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
Every year, a nation's labor produces the resources that supply everything its people need and use that year. Those supplies come either directly from what its people produce or from goods bought from other nations with that produce.
The more of these goods a nation has compared with the number of people who will use them, the better supplied its people will be with the things they need and find useful. The smaller that amount, the worse supplied they will be.
In every nation, two things determine this relationship. The first is the skill, dexterity, and judgment generally used in its labor. The second is the proportion of people doing useful work compared with people who do not. Whatever a nation's soil, climate, or size, these two things determine whether its annual supply is plentiful or scarce under those conditions.
The first of these two things seems to matter more than the second. In nations of hunters and fishers, everyone able to work does some useful labor. Each tries as well as possible to provide necessities and comforts for themselves and for family or tribe members too old, too young, or too ill to hunt or fish. Yet these nations are so poor that shortages often force them, or make them think they are forced, to kill or abandon infants, old people, and those with long-lasting illnesses. Those people then die of hunger or are eaten by wild animals. In prosperous, civilized nations, by contrast, many people do no labor at all. Many of them consume the product of ten times, often a hundred times, more labor than most working people do. Even so, society's total labor produces so much that everyone is often well supplied. Even a worker in the poorest and lowest position, if thrifty and hardworking, may have more of life's necessities and comforts than any person in a hunting or fishing society can obtain.
The first book of this Inquiry deals with the causes of this increase in labor's productive power. It also deals with the way its products naturally come to be shared among people in different ranks and circumstances in society.
Whatever the current level of skill, dexterity, and judgment with which a nation works, while that level remains unchanged its annual supply depends on the ratio of those doing useful labor each year to those who are not. As we shall see later, the number of useful and productive workers everywhere depends on how much capital stock is used to put them to work, and exactly how that stock is used. The second book therefore covers the nature of capital stock, how it gradually builds up, and how many workers it sets to work when used in different ways.
Nations that have made fairly good progress in applying labor skillfully and thoughtfully have followed very different plans for directing it. Those plans have not produced equally large results. Some nations' policies have especially encouraged work in the countryside; others have encouraged work in towns. Almost no nation has treated every kind of work fairly and equally. Since the fall of the Roman empire, European policy has favored the arts, manufacturing, and trade—the work of towns—more than farming, the work of the countryside. The third book explains how this policy seems to have begun and become established.
Different plans may first have come from the private interests and prejudices of particular groups of people, without any thought about their effects on society as a whole. Yet those plans have led to very different theories of political economy. Some theories exaggerate the importance of work in towns, while others exaggerate the importance of work in the countryside. These theories have strongly influenced both scholars' opinions and the public actions of rulers and independent states. In the fourth book, I have tried to explain these theories as fully and clearly as I can, along with the main effects they have had in different times and nations.
These first four books aim to explain what has made up the revenue of most people, or what resources have supplied their yearly consumption in different times and nations. The fifth and last book deals with the revenue of the ruler or the commonwealth. In it I have tried to show, first, what expenses the ruler or commonwealth must meet; which should be paid by contributions from all of society, and which should be paid only by particular groups or members. Second, I explain the different ways the whole society can contribute to expenses that fall on it as a whole, and the main advantages and disadvantages of each. Third and finally, I explain why almost all modern governments have mortgaged part of this revenue or taken on debts, and what those debts have done to real wealth—the annual output 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
On the Causes of Improvement in Labor's Productive Power, and How Its Products Are Naturally Distributed Among the Different Ranks of the People.
On the Division of Labor.
The greatest gains in how much labor can produce seem to come from the division of labor. So does most of the skill, dexterity, and judgment used to direct labor anywhere. To understand its effects across society, it helps to see how it works in particular kinds of manufacturing. People often think the division of labor goes furthest in manufacturing very minor goods. This may not actually be true compared with more important goods. But a small industry serving the limited needs of a small group employs relatively few workers. People doing its different tasks can often gather in one workshop, where an observer can see them all at once.
Large industries, by contrast, serve the major needs of most people. Each separate task employs so many workers that they cannot all gather in one workshop. We can rarely see more than one branch at a time. So even if their labor is divided into many more tasks than labor in smaller industries, that division is less visible and has attracted less attention.
Consider a small industry in which people have often noticed the division of labor: making pins. A worker not trained in this trade, which the division of labor has made a trade of its own, and not familiar with its machinery, which the same division probably led people to invent, could hardly make one pin in a day despite working as hard as possible. Certainly he could not make twenty. But in the way the industry operates now, not only is making pins a specialized trade, it also has many branches. Most of those branches are specialized trades too. One person draws out the wire; another straightens it; a third cuts it; a fourth sharpens it; a fifth grinds its upper end so a head can be attached. Making the head takes two or three separate steps. Attaching it is a task of its own, as is whitening the pins. Even putting them into paper is a separate trade. The important work of making a pin is thus divided into about eighteen separate operations. In some workshops each is done by a different person; in others, one person may do two or three. I have seen a small pin workshop employing only ten men, so some did two or three operations. They were very poor and had only inadequate machinery. Yet when they made an effort they could produce about twelve pounds of pins together in one day. A pound contains upwards of four thousand medium-sized pins. So the ten people could make upwards of forty-eight thousand pins in a day, or four thousand eight hundred pins per person if each is credited with a tenth of the output. Had they all worked alone, without training in this particular trade, each certainly could not have made twenty pins, and perhaps could not have made even one in a day. That is certainly less than the two hundred and fortieth part, and perhaps less than the four thousand eight hundredth part, of what they can now produce by properly dividing and combining their tasks.
The division of labor has similar effects in every other craft and industry, though in many the work cannot be split into so many simple tasks. Wherever it can be used, the division of labor increases labor's productive power in proportion to its extent. This advantage seems to explain why separate trades and jobs have developed. They are usually most separate in countries where industry is most advanced. Work done by one person in an undeveloped society is generally done by several in a developed one. In every developed society the farmer generally does only farm work and the manufacturer only manufacturing. The labor needed to finish one manufactured product is almost always shared among many people. Think of all the trades involved in making linen and woolen goods: people grow flax and raise sheep for wool, while others bleach and smooth linen, or dye and finish cloth, with many jobs in between. Farming, however, cannot divide labor into as many parts or separate jobs as completely as manufacturing can. A livestock farmer's work cannot be separated from a grain farmer's as thoroughly as a carpenter's is usually separated from a smith's. A spinner and a weaver are almost always different people, but the same person often plows, harrows, sows seed, and harvests grain. Those jobs come around in different seasons, so one person cannot work at any one of them constantly. Perhaps this inability to separate farming tasks completely is why gains in farming productivity do not always keep pace with those in manufacturing. The richest nations generally do better than their neighbors in both farming and manufacturing, but usually stand out more in manufacturing. Their land is generally cultivated better. With more labor and expense devoted to it, it produces more relative to its area and natural fertility. But its greater output is seldom much greater than the additional labor and expense would explain. In farming, labor in a rich country is not always much more productive than labor in a poor one, or at least the difference is never as large as it usually is in manufacturing. Grain from a rich country, then, will not always reach the market more cheaply than equally good grain from a poor one. Grain from Poland is as cheap as equally good grain from France, despite France's greater wealth and development. In France's grain-producing provinces, grain is just as good as grain in England and costs nearly the same in most years, though France may be poorer and less developed than England. England's grain fields, however, are better cultivated than France's, and France's are said to be much better cultivated than Poland's. So although a poor country can partly compete with a rich one on the price and quality of grain despite less advanced cultivation, it cannot compete in the same way in manufacturing. That is, it cannot if the rich country's industries suit its soil, climate, and location. French silks are better and cheaper than English silks because silk production, at least with the current high duties on imported raw silk, does not suit England's climate as well as France's. But English hardware and coarse woolens are incomparably better than French goods of those kinds, and much cheaper at the same quality. Poland is said to have almost no manufacturing of any sort beyond a few coarse household industries that every country needs in order to survive.
The division of labor lets the same number of people produce so much more for three reasons. First, each worker becomes more skillful at a particular job. Second, workers save time they would otherwise lose changing from one kind of work to another. Third, many machines are invented that make work easier and quicker, allowing one person to do the work of many.
First, becoming more skillful necessarily increases how much a worker can produce. The division of labor gives each person one simple operation to do throughout working life and therefore greatly increases that skill. I am told that an ordinary smith, familiar with a hammer but not with making nails, can hardly make more than two or three hundred nails in a day if required to try, and those will be very poor nails. A smith familiar with making nails, but who does not make them as his main or only job, can rarely make more than eight hundred or a thousand nails a day even with his greatest effort. I have seen several boys under twenty years old who had never worked at anything but making nails. When they worked hard, each could make upwards of two thousand three hundred nails in a day. Yet making a nail is by no means one of the simplest jobs. One person works the bellows, tends the fire as needed, heats the iron, and forges each part of the nail. To forge its head, he even has to change tools. The separate operations in making a pin or a metal button are much simpler. A person who spends his life doing one of them usually acquires far greater skill. Someone who has never seen these operations would not believe the speed the human hand can reach in some of them.
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, we gain more than we might first imagine by saving the time usually lost when moving from one kind of work to another. No one can quickly switch between jobs done in different places with completely different tools. A country weaver who also farms a small plot loses considerable time moving from loom to field and back. The loss is smaller if both jobs can be done in one workshop, but even then it matters a great deal. People tend to linger a little when switching tasks. On starting a new task, a worker rarely attacks it with much enthusiasm. His mind is not on the job, as people say, and for a while he does little of real use. A country worker who must change jobs and tools every half hour, and do twenty kinds of work almost every day of his life, naturally—or rather inevitably—gets into a habit of lingering and working slowly and carelessly. He is nearly always made sluggish and unable to work vigorously, even when a need is urgent. So even apart from any lack of skill, this alone greatly reduces the amount he can do.
Third and finally, everyone knows that suitable machines can make work much easier and quicker. No example is needed. I will only note that the division of labor seems originally to have led to the invention of all these labor-saving machines. People are more likely to find easier, faster ways of reaching a goal when they concentrate entirely on that one goal than when their attention is spread across many things. Because of the division of labor, each person's attention naturally settles on one simple task. We should therefore expect that a worker in each branch will soon find an easier and faster way to do that particular job, whenever improvement is possible. Ordinary workers originally invented many machines used in industries with the greatest division of labor. Each worked on a simple operation and naturally thought about ways to make it easier and faster. Anyone who often visits such workshops will have seen many ingenious machines made by these workers to speed up their own tasks. In the first fire engines [this was the current designation for steam engines], a boy had to keep opening and closing the connection between the boiler and cylinder as the piston rose and fell. One boy preferred playing with his friends. He noticed that tying a string from the valve's handle to another part of the machine would make the valve open and close without him. That freed him to play. One of the greatest improvements to this machine since its invention was thus discovered by a boy trying to save himself work.
Not all improvements to machines, however, came from people who used them. Skilled machine makers produced many once making machines became a separate trade. Others came from philosophers, or people whose job was to study things rather than make them. They can often see ways to combine the powers of very different, seemingly unrelated things. As society develops, philosophy or theoretical study becomes, like any other job, the main or only occupation of a particular group of people. Like other jobs, it splits into many branches, each with its own group of philosophers. Dividing up philosophical work increases skill and saves time, just as it does elsewhere. Each person gets better at a particular field. More work is done overall, and knowledge grows considerably.
The division of labor greatly multiplies the products of all the different trades. In a well-run society, this creates widespread wealth reaching even the lowest ranks. Every worker has much more of his own product than he needs, and every other worker is in the same position. So he can exchange much of his own product for much of theirs—or, equivalently, for the price of much of theirs. He gives them plenty of what they need and gets plenty of what he needs in return. Abundance spreads through every rank of society.
Look at what even an ordinary craft worker or day laborer has in a thriving, civilized country. You will see that countless people have contributed some portion of their work, however small, to providing it. The woolen coat worn by a day laborer, for example, may look coarse and rough. Yet it is the joint product of a great many workers. The shepherd, the wool sorter, the wool comber or carder, the dyer, the scribbler, the spinner, the weaver, the fuller, the cloth finisher, and many others must combine their skills to make even this plain garment. Merchants and carriers must also move materials between these workers, who often live far apart. The dyes themselves often come from remote corners of the world. Bringing them together calls for trade and shipping, along with shipbuilders, sailors, sailmakers, and ropemakers. Even the tools used by the least important of these workers take many kinds of labor to produce. Leave aside complicated machines such as a sailor's ship, a fuller's mill, or even a weaver's loom. Consider only the apparently simple shears the shepherd uses to clip wool. The miner, the builder of the ore-smelting furnace, the woodcutter, the person who burns charcoal for the smelter, the brickmaker, the bricklayer, the furnace workers, the millwright, the forger, and the smith must all contribute their different skills to make them. We could inspect every other part of this worker's clothing and furniture in the same way: the rough linen shirt against his skin; his shoes; his bed and each of its parts; the kitchen grate where he cooks; the coal used in it, dug from underground and perhaps carried a long way by sea and land; his other kitchen utensils; his tableware, including knives, forks, and dishes of earthenware or pewter for serving and dividing food; all the people who prepare his bread and beer; the glass window that lets in heat and light while keeping out wind and rain; all the knowledge and skill needed to produce this excellent and useful invention, without which these northern regions could hardly offer a comfortable home; and the tools of all the workers who make these useful things. If we look at everything on this list and all the kinds of work involved in each item, we will see that even the poorest person in a civilized country could not have what we wrongly consider an easy, simple standard of living without the help and cooperation of many thousands of people. Compared with the extravagant luxury of the great, that person's living conditions do seem extremely simple. Even so, an industrious, thrifty peasant in Europe may enjoy so much more than many an African king, an absolute ruler over the lives and freedom of ten thousand naked people, that even a European prince's living conditions do not always exceed the peasant's by as much.
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
On the Principle That Gives Rise to the Division of Labor.
The division of labor brings many benefits. It did not originally arise because people wisely foresaw and planned the widespread wealth it would bring. Rather, it is the necessary result, reached very slowly and gradually, of a human tendency that is not aimed at any such broad benefit. People tend to trade, barter, and exchange one thing for another.
We need not decide here whether this tendency is an inborn feature of human nature that cannot be explained further, or, as seems more likely, a necessary result of our ability to reason and speak. All people have it, but no other kind of animal seems to understand this or any other kind of agreement. Two grayhounds chasing one hare sometimes appear to work together. Each turns the hare toward the other or tries to catch it as the other turns it back. But they have not made an agreement. They simply happen to want the same thing at that moment. Nobody has ever seen one dog consciously make a fair trade of one bone for another with a second dog. Nobody has ever seen an animal convey to another by gesture or natural cry: this is mine, that is yours; I will give you this for that. If an animal wants something from a person or another animal, its only way of persuading them is to win favor from the one whose help it needs. A puppy fawns on its mother. A spaniel seeking food tries in a thousand ways to catch the attention of its owner at dinner. People sometimes act this way toward other people. If they have no other way to get what they want, they try to gain goodwill by being submissive and flattering. But they cannot do this every time they need something. In civilized society a person constantly needs the cooperation and help of large numbers of people. A whole lifetime is barely enough to become friends with a few. In almost every other animal species, a mature individual is completely independent and naturally needs no help from another living creature. A person, however, almost always needs help from other people. It is no use relying only on their kindness. A person has a better chance if he appeals to their self-interest and shows that helping him would benefit them. Everyone who proposes a deal does this. The meaning of every such offer is: give me what I want and you will get what you want. This is how we obtain by far most of the help we need from each other. We expect dinner from the butcher, the brewer, and the baker not because they are kind but because they care about their own interests. We appeal to their self-interest, not to their concern for others, and speak about what they stand to gain, not what we need. Only a beggar chooses to depend mainly on fellow citizens' kindness. Even a beggar does not depend on it entirely. Gifts from generous people provide all the means by which he lives, but they cannot supply each necessity exactly when it arises. He meets most of his day-to-day needs the same way other people do: by making deals, bartering, and buying things. He buys food with money someone gives him. He exchanges someone else's gift of old clothes for more suitable clothes, or for housing, food, or money. With that money he buys food, clothes, or housing when he needs them.
Deals, barter, and purchases provide most of the help people give each other. The same tendency to trade first gives rise to the division of labor. Suppose someone in a tribe of hunters or shepherds can make bows and arrows faster and more skillfully than anyone else. He often trades them with other members for cattle or venison. Eventually he finds that this brings him more cattle and venison than hunting or tending herds himself would. So it is in his interest to make bows and arrows as his main occupation, and he becomes a kind of armorer. Another person is especially good at making the frames and covers of their small huts or movable homes. His neighbors regularly use his help and pay him with cattle and venison. He eventually sees that it pays to devote himself entirely to this work and becomes a kind of house carpenter. In the same way, a third person becomes a smith or a worker in brass, and a fourth prepares or tans hides and skins, which supply most of the clothing worn by people in such societies. Because each person knows he can exchange everything he makes beyond what he uses for the things other workers make that he needs, he is encouraged to specialize. He develops whatever talent he has for that job as far as he can.
People's natural talents actually differ much less than we think. The very different abilities we see in adults of different occupations are often results of the division of labor rather than its causes. Consider two people who seem very different, a philosopher and an ordinary street porter. Habit, custom, and education seem to account for more of that difference than nature does. At birth and for their first six or eight years, they may have been very much alike. Neither parents nor playmates could notice any striking difference. At about that age, or shortly after, they begin different kinds of work. Their different talents then become visible and gradually grow further apart. At last the philosopher's vanity makes him reluctant to admit that they resemble each other at all. Without the tendency to trade and exchange, though, each person would have to supply all the necessities and comforts he wanted for himself. Everyone would have the same jobs to do. There could be no division of work to create large differences in talent.
The tendency to trade both creates the striking differences in talent among people in different professions and makes those differences useful. Among the groups of animals recognized as belonging to a single species, nature produces much greater differences in abilities than those seen among people before custom and education take effect. A philosopher's natural intelligence and disposition differ less from a street porter's than a mastiff's differ from a greyhound's, or a greyhound's from a spaniel's, or a spaniel's from a shepherd's dog's. Yet these different groups of animals, though members of the same species, can do almost nothing for each other. The mastiff's strength gains nothing from the greyhound's speed, the spaniel's keen senses, or the shepherd's dog's readiness to learn. Because they cannot or will not trade, their different talents cannot be pooled. They do nothing to improve the comfort and living conditions of their species. Each animal must support and protect itself independently and gets no benefit from the different abilities of its fellows. Among people, on the other hand, even the most different talents are useful to one another. The general tendency to trade and exchange brings the various products of people's skills into a common stock. Each person can then buy whatever he needs of the products of other people's talents.
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
How the Size of the Market Limits the Division of Labor.
The ability to exchange gives rise to the division of labor. So the division can only grow as far as that ability extends—in other words, as far as the market extends. If the market is very small, no one has a reason to devote themselves entirely to one occupation. They could not exchange all the products of their work beyond what they use themselves for the products of other people's work that they need.
Some jobs, even very ordinary ones, can be carried on only in a large town. A porter, for example, cannot find steady work and a living anywhere else. A village provides far too little business; even an ordinary market town can barely keep him busy. Among the isolated houses and tiny villages scattered through the sparsely settled highlands of Scotland, every farmer must be his own family's butcher, baker, and brewer. In such places we can hardly expect to find a smith, carpenter, or mason within less than twenty miles of another worker in the same trade. Families living eight or ten miles from the nearest such worker have to learn to do many small jobs themselves. In more populated places, they would ask those tradespeople for help. Country workers nearly everywhere must handle many different branches of work involving the same kinds of materials. A country carpenter does every kind of wooden work, and a country smith every kind of ironwork. The carpenter works not only as a carpenter but also as a joiner, a cabinetmaker, a woodcarver, a wheelwright, a plow maker, and a maker of carts and wagons. The smith has an even wider variety of jobs. Even a nail maker could not earn a living as a specialist in remote inland parts of the highlands of Scotland. A worker making a thousand nails a day over three hundred working days would make three hundred thousand nails in a year. But there he could not sell even one thousand nails in a year, the output of one day. Transport by water opens a larger market to every kind of work than transport by land alone. So industries of every kind naturally first become more specialized and productive on coasts and along navigable rivers. Often those advances reach inland areas only much later. In about six weeks, a wide-wheeled wagon with two men and eight horses can carry goods from London to Edinburgh and return with a load, moving near 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 can often take goods out and return with two hundred ton weight of goods. Six or eight men using water transport can thus move as many goods between London and Edinburgh in that time as fifty wide-wheeled wagons with a hundred men and four hundred horses. For two hundred tons of goods carried from London to Edinburgh by the cheapest land route, the price must cover a hundred men's upkeep for three weeks. It must also cover four hundred horses' upkeep and wear and tear, which costs almost as much as their upkeep, along with wear and tear on fifty large wagons. For the same goods moved by water, it need cover only six or eight men's upkeep, wear and tear on a ship of two hundred tons capacity, and the additional risk—or the difference between the cost of insurance for land and water transport. If land transport were the only link between these places, only goods of great value relative to their weight could travel between them. They could do only a small part of the trade they now do and give each other's industries only a small part of the support they now give. There could be little or no trade between distant parts of the world. What goods could bear the cost of land transport from London to Calcutta? And if goods were valuable enough to bear that cost, could they be moved safely through the lands of so many peoples regarded as barbarous? Yet those cities now do a great deal of trade with each other. By providing markets for each other, they substantially support each other's industries.
Given these advantages of water transport, we should expect the first advances in skills and industries to occur where it opens the entire world as a market for every kind of product. We should expect those advances to reach inland areas much later. For a long time, inland areas can sell most of their goods only in the surrounding country between them and the coast or major navigable rivers. Their market's size therefore depends for a long time on the wealth and population of that surrounding country, and they can only develop after it does. In our North American colonies, settlements have consistently spread along the coast or navigable riverbanks. They have hardly ever reached any great distance from both.
According to the most reliable histories, the first civilized nations seem to have lived around the Mediterranean sea. It is by far the largest known inlet. It has no tides, and therefore no waves except those caused by wind. Its relatively smooth waters, its many islands, and the closeness of its shores made it exceptionally well suited to navigation in its early days. Without compasses, sailors feared losing sight of land. With imperfect shipbuilding skills, they feared venturing into the ocean's rough waves. For a long time in the ancient world, passing beyond the pillars of Hercules—that is, sailing out through the straits of Gibraltar—was considered an extraordinary and dangerous feat. Even the Phoenicians and Carthaginians, the most skilled sailors and shipbuilders of those times, were late to try it. For a long time they were the only peoples who did.
Of all the countries along the Mediterranean sea, Egypt seems to have been the first where farming or manufacturing developed substantially. No place in Upper Egypt is more than a few miles from the Nile. In Lower Egypt the river splits into many channels. With a little human work, these seem to have enabled water transport between all the large towns, all the substantial villages, and even many farmhouses. The Rhine and the Maese serve Holland in much the same way today. The reach and ease of travel on these inland waterways probably helped Egypt develop early.
Farming and manufacturing also seem to have developed very long ago in Bengal in the East Indies and in some eastern provinces of China. But no historical accounts whose reliability is well established for us in this part of the world confirm just how long ago. In Bengal the Ganges and several other large rivers form many navigable channels, as the Nile does in Egypt. In China's eastern provinces, several large rivers branch into many channels. These channels connect with each other and provide inland waterways far more extensive than those of either the Nile or the Ganges, and perhaps more extensive than both together. Notably, the ancient Egyptians, Indians, and Chinese did not encourage foreign trade. They all seem to have gained their great wealth from these inland waterways instead.
Africa's inland regions, and the part of Asia a considerable distance north of the Euxine and Caspian seas—ancient Scythia and modern Tartary and Siberia—seem to have remained in every age in the same undeveloped and uncivilized condition in which we now find them. The sea of Tartary is the frozen ocean and cannot be sailed. Some of the world's largest rivers do cross that country, but they are too far apart to carry trade and communication through most of it. Africa has no great inlets like Europe's Baltic and Adriatic seas, the Mediterranean and Euxine seas shared by Europe and Asia, or Asia's gulfs of Arabia, Persia, India, Bengal, and Siam. Such inlets could carry sea trade far into the continent. Africa's major rivers are also too far apart to permit much inland travel by water. Furthermore, a nation cannot conduct much trade along a river that neither branches into many channels nor reaches the sea without passing through another nation's land. The nation controlling the land downstream can always block access between upstream regions and the sea. Navigation on the Danube is therefore of little use to Bavaria, Austria, and Hungary compared with what it would offer if any one of them controlled its entire course to 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 is fully established, a person's own work supplies only a small part of what that person needs. People meet most of their needs by exchanging what they produce beyond their own consumption for products of other people's work. Everyone thus lives by exchange and becomes, to some extent, a merchant. Society itself becomes what we can properly call a commercial society.
But when the division of labor first began, people often found it hard to exchange things. Suppose one person has more of a product than he needs and another has too little. The first would gladly sell some of his surplus, and the second would gladly buy it. But if the second person has nothing the first needs, they cannot make an exchange. A butcher has more meat in his shop than he can eat. A brewer and a baker would each like to buy some of it. But they can offer only beer and bread, and the butcher already has all the beer and bread he needs right now. So they cannot trade. The butcher cannot sell to them, and they cannot buy from him. They are consequently less useful to one another. To avoid this difficulty, every sensible person, in every period after the division of labor was first established, must naturally have tried to keep something on hand besides the product of his own work. He would keep a quantity of some product that he thought few people would refuse in exchange for their products. People probably considered and used many different products for this purpose over time. Cattle are said to have served as the usual means of trade in the early ages of society. They must have been very inconvenient, yet things in ancient times were often valued by the number of cattle given in exchange. Homer says Diomede's armor cost only nine oxen, while Glaucus's cost a hundred oxen. Salt is said to serve as the usual means of trade and exchange in Abyssinia; a kind of shell in parts of the Indian coast; dried cod in Newfoundland; tobacco in Virginia; sugar in some of our West India colonies; and hides or prepared leather in some other countries. I am told that even today, in one Scottish village, a worker quite often takes nails rather than money to the baker's shop or the alehouse.
In every country, though, people seem eventually to have had compelling reasons to choose metals over all other products for this purpose. Metals can be stored with as little loss as any product, since hardly anything lasts longer. They can also be divided into any number of pieces without loss, because the pieces can easily be fused back together. No other equally durable product has this quality. More than any other quality, it makes metals suitable for trade and circulation. Suppose a man wanted salt but had only cattle to trade. He would have to buy enough salt to be worth a whole ox or a whole sheep at once. He could seldom buy less, because he could seldom divide what he offered without losing value. If he wanted more, he would similarly have to buy twice or three times as much: salt worth two or three oxen, or two or three sheep. But if he had metal to trade instead of sheep or oxen, he could easily give just enough metal to match the precise amount of salt he needed immediately.
Different nations have used different metals in this way. The ancient Spartans commonly traded with iron, the ancient Romans with copper, and all rich, trading nations with gold and silver.
At first, people seem to have used these metals as rough bars without stamps or coinage. Pliny tells us (Plin. Hist Nat. lib. 33, cap. 3), citing the ancient historian Timaeus, that until the time of Servius Tullius the Romans had no coins. They used unstamped copper bars to buy whatever they needed. These rough bars therefore served as money at that time.
Using metals in that rough form brought two serious problems. First, people had to weigh them; second, they had to test their purity. With precious metals, even a small difference in quantity makes a large difference in value. Weighing them accurately requires very precise weights and scales. Weighing gold, especially, calls for care. With cheaper metals, a small error matters less, so less precision would be needed. Even so, we would find it extremely tiresome if every time a poor person bought or sold a farthing's worth of goods, he had to weigh the farthing. Testing purity is harder and takes still longer. Unless part of the metal is actually melted in a crucible with the right dissolving agents, any finding is very uncertain. Before coins were introduced, people who did not perform this long and difficult test were always exposed to serious fraud. In return for their goods, they might receive what appeared to be a pound of pure silver or copper but was really a mixture of the cheapest, poorest materials made to look like those metals. To prevent such abuses, make exchange easier, and encourage every kind of industry and commerce, every country that has made substantial progress has found it necessary to put an official stamp on fixed quantities of the metals it commonly uses to buy goods. This is how coins and the public offices called mints began. They are much like the officials who measure and stamp wool and linen cloth. Each institution uses an official stamp to certify the quantity and consistent quality of a product brought to market.
In many cases, the first official stamps on metals used as money seem to have certified what was hardest and most important to determine: the purity or fineness of the metal. They may have resembled the sterling mark now put on silver plate and bars, or the Spanish mark sometimes put on gold ingots. These marks, stamped on only one side rather than over the entire surface, certify purity but not weight. Abraham weighs out to Ephron the four hundred shekels of silver he agreed to pay for the field of Machpelah. Though called the merchant's current money, the shekels are accepted by weight, not by counting, just as gold ingots and silver bars are today. The revenues of England's ancient Saxon kings are said to have been paid not in money but in kind, with food and provisions of all sorts. William the Conqueror introduced payment in money. For a long time, however, the exchequer accepted this money by weight, not by counting pieces.
Because weighing metals exactly was difficult and inconvenient, coins were introduced. Their stamps covered both sides completely, and sometimes the edges as well. They were meant to certify the metal's weight as well as its purity. People could then accept the coins by counting them, as they do now, without weighing them.
The original names of these coins seem to have stated the weight or quantity of metal they contained. Under 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 a real ounce of good copper. In the time of Edward I., the English pound sterling contained a Tower pound in weight of silver of known purity. The Tower pound seems to have been a little heavier than the Roman pound and a little lighter than the Troyes pound. The Troyes pound was not introduced into the English mint until the 18th of Henry the VIII. Under Charlemagne, the French livre contained a Troyes pound in weight of silver of known purity. People from all over Europe attended the fair at Troyes in Champaign at that time, and the measures and weights of that famous market were widely known and respected. From Alexander the First to Robert Bruce, the Scots money pound contained a pound of silver with the same weight and purity as the English pound sterling. English, French, and Scots pennies each originally contained 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 named a weight. An old statute of Henry III. says, “When wheat is at twelve shillings the quarter, then wastel bread of a farthing shall weigh eleven shillings and fourpence.” Yet the relation of the shilling to either the penny or the pound seems to have varied more than the relation of the penny to the pound. Under the earliest line of French kings, a French sou or shilling appears on different occasions to have contained five, twelve, twenty, or forty pennies. Among the ancient Saxons, a shilling at one time seems to have contained only five pennies. Its value may well have varied among them as it did among their neighbors, the ancient Franks. Since Charlemagne's time in France and William the Conqueror's time in England, the relationship between pound, shilling, and penny seems to have remained what it is now. But each coin's value has changed greatly. In every country, I believe, rulers and sovereign states have abused their subjects' trust through greed and injustice, gradually reducing the actual metal in their coins. In the later Roman republic, the as fell to the twenty-fourth part of its original value: it weighed only half an ounce instead of a pound. 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. By doing this, rulers and sovereign states appeared able to pay their debts and meet their obligations with less silver than would otherwise have been needed. But it was only an appearance: they cheated their creditors of part of what they owed. All other debtors in the state got the same advantage. They could repay what they had borrowed in the old coin with the same stated sum in the new, debased coin. These measures have therefore always helped debtors and harmed creditors. Sometimes they have changed private fortunes more widely and severely than a major public disaster could have done.
That is how money has become the universal means of trade in all civilized nations. Through it, goods of every kind are bought, sold, or exchanged for other goods.
I will now examine the rules people naturally follow when exchanging goods for money or for other goods. These rules determine what we may call the relative or exchangeable value of goods.
The word value has two meanings. It sometimes means how useful a particular thing is, and sometimes means how much other goods its owner can buy with it. We can call the first “value in use” and 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 almost nothing; almost nothing can be obtained in exchange for it. A diamond, by contrast, has almost no value in use, but it can often be exchanged for a great quantity of other goods.
To study the principles that determine the exchangeable value of products, I will try to show:
First, what actually measures this exchangeable value, or what the real price of all products consists of.
Second, what different parts make up this real price.
And finally, what circumstances sometimes raise some or all of these parts of price above their natural or usual level, and sometimes bring them below it. In other words, what sometimes keeps the market price—the price actually paid for products—from matching exactly what we may call their natural price.
I will try to explain these three subjects as fully and clearly as I can in the next three chapters. I earnestly ask readers for both patience and attention. They will need patience to work through details that may sometimes seem needlessly long, and attention to understand a subject that may remain somewhat unclear even after the fullest explanation I can give. I am always willing to risk being long-winded to make sure I am clear. Yet even after doing everything I can to be clear, something may still seem obscure 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.
A person is rich or poor according to how much of life's necessities, comforts, and pleasures he can afford. But once the division of labor is fully established, his own work supplies only a small part of these things. He must get most of them from other people's work. His wealth or poverty therefore depends on how much of their labor he can pay for or command. For someone who owns a product but intends to trade it instead of using it, its value is the quantity of labor it lets him buy or command. Labor is therefore the real measure of every product's exchangeable value.
The real price of anything, what it actually costs the person who wants to get it, is the effort and trouble of obtaining it. To someone who has it and wants to sell or exchange it, its real worth is the effort and trouble it saves him and transfers to others. Things bought with money or goods are bought through labor just as much as things obtained by our own physical effort. The money or goods spare us that effort. They represent the value of a certain amount of labor, which we trade for something thought at the time to represent an equal amount. Labor was the first price, the original payment for everything. All the world's wealth was originally purchased not with gold or silver but with labor. For people who own wealth and want to exchange it for new products, its value is exactly the amount of labor it allows them to buy or command.
As Mr Hobbes says, wealth is power. But someone who earns or inherits a large fortune does not necessarily gain political power, civilian or military. His fortune might give him the means to obtain either kind, but simply owning it does not give him either. What ownership directly gives him is the power to buy command over some of the labor, or products of labor, now on the market. His fortune is large or small in exact proportion to that power: the amount of other people's labor, or equivalently the products of their labor, that it lets him buy or command. The exchangeable value of anything must equal precisely the extent of the power it gives its owner.
Although labor is the real measure of the exchangeable value of all products, people do not usually measure value by it. It is often hard to compare two quantities of labor. The time spent on different kinds of work does not by itself tell us their relative amounts. We must also allow for how hard the work is and how much skill it requires. One hour of strenuous work may involve more labor than two hours of easy work. An hour spent at a trade that took ten years labor to learn may involve more than a month's work at an ordinary job anyone can do. But there is no easy, precise measure of either hardship or skill. When people trade the products of different kinds of labor, they usually make some allowance for both. They settle the matter not through precise measurement but through bargaining in the market. They reach a rough equivalence, imperfect but good enough for ordinary business.
Moreover, products are exchanged for other products, and thus compared with them, more often than they are exchanged for labor. So it is more natural to measure a product's exchangeable value by the quantity of some other product than by the labor it can obtain. Most people also understand a quantity of a particular product more easily than a quantity of labor. The first is something tangible; the second is an abstract idea. It can be explained clearly enough, but it is less obvious.
But once barter gives way to money as the usual means of trade, each product is traded for money more often than for any other product. The butcher seldom takes beef or mutton to the baker or brewer to trade for bread or beer. He takes it to market, trades it for money, and then trades the money for bread and beer. The amount of money he receives also determines how much bread and beer he can buy. It is therefore more natural for him to measure his meat's value in money, which he receives directly, than in bread and beer, which he can get only through an intermediate exchange. He is more likely to say his meat is worth three-pence or fourpence a-pound than to say it is worth three or four pounds of bread or three or four quarts of small beer. That is why a product's exchangeable value is more often measured by money than by the labor or other products that it can buy.
Gold and silver, however, change in value like every other product. Sometimes they are cheap and easy to obtain; sometimes they are expensive and hard to obtain. How much labor a given quantity of them can buy or command, or how many other goods it can buy, always depends on how rich or poor the known mines are at the time of exchange. In the sixteenth century, the discovery of America's rich mines reduced the value of gold and silver in Europe to about a third of its previous level. Less labor was needed to bring these metals from mine to market, and at market they could buy or command less labor. This may have been the largest change in their value, but history records others. A measure of length such as a natural foot, fathom, or handful changes in size and so cannot measure the length of other things accurately. Likewise, a product whose value changes cannot accurately measure the value of other products. Equal amounts of labor can be said to have equal value to the worker at any time or place. Given his usual health, strength, energy, skill, and ability, he must always give up the same share of his comfort, freedom, and happiness. He pays the same price regardless of how many goods he receives in return. His work may buy more goods sometimes and fewer at other times, but it is the value of the goods that changes, not that of the labor buying them. Everywhere and always, what is hard to get or requires much labor is expensive; what is easy to get or requires little labor is cheap. Only labor, then, never changing in its own value, is the final, real standard by which we can measure and compare the value of all products at any time and place. Labor is their real price; money is only their nominal price.
Although equal amounts of labor are always equally valuable to the worker, their value sometimes appears greater or smaller to an employer. Sometimes he buys them with more goods and sometimes with fewer. To him the price of labor seems to change like any other price. Labor seems expensive in one case and cheap in the other. In reality, the goods are cheap in the first case and expensive in the second.
In this everyday sense, labor, like other products, can be said to have a real and a nominal price. Its real price is the amount of necessities and comforts given for it; its nominal price is the amount of money given for it. A worker is rich or poor, and well or poorly paid, according to the real price of his labor, not its nominal price.
Distinguishing the real from the nominal price of products and labor is not just theoretical. It can be useful in practice. The same real price always has the same value, but because the value of gold and silver changes, the same nominal price can represent very different values. Suppose a landed estate is sold with a permanent rent reserved for a family. If the rent is meant to keep the same value, that family should not set it at a fixed sum of money. Its value could then change for two different reasons. First, coins with the same name can contain different amounts of gold and silver at different times. Second, the same amount of gold and silver can have different values at different times.
Princes and sovereign states have often believed it served their short-term interests to reduce the pure metal in their coins. They have seldom thought it useful to increase it. Consequently, I believe the amount of metal in the coins of all nations has almost continually fallen and has hardly ever risen. Changes of this kind almost always reduce the value of a money rent.
The discovery of the American mines reduced the value of gold and silver in Europe. People commonly suppose, though I think there is no definite proof, that this decline is still going on gradually and will continue for a long time. On that assumption, such changes are more likely to reduce than to increase the value of a money rent. That holds even if the rent is specified not as a number of coins of a named denomination, such as so many pounds sterling, but as so many ounces of pure silver or silver meeting a fixed standard.
Rents reserved in corn have held their value much better than rents reserved in money, even where coin denominations have not changed. The 18th of Elizabeth required that one-third of the rent under all college leases be reserved in corn. The rent could be paid in corn or according to current prices at the nearest public market. According to Dr Blackstone, the money now received from that corn rent, originally just a third of the total, is commonly nearly twice the money received from the other two-thirds. By this account, the colleges' old money rents must have fallen to nearly a fourth of their former value. They buy little more than a fourth of the corn they once bought. Yet since the reign of Philip and Mary, English coin denominations have changed little if at all. The same number of pounds, shillings, and pence have contained almost the same amount of pure silver. So the decline in the value of colleges' money rents comes entirely from the decline in the value of silver.
When silver loses value and coins of the same denomination also contain less of it, the loss is often still greater. Coin denominations have changed much more in Scotland than in England, and still more in France than in Scotland. As a result, some old rents that were once substantial have fallen 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
At widely separated times, the same amount of corn, which feeds workers, will buy more nearly the same amount of labor than the same amount of gold and silver, or perhaps any other product. Equal amounts of corn at such times will therefore have more nearly the same real value. They will allow their owner to buy or command more nearly the same quantity of other people's labor. I say more nearly, because even equal amounts of corn do not do this exactly. As I will show later, workers' subsistence, or the real price of labor, differs greatly in different circumstances. It is more generous in a society becoming wealthy than in one that is standing still, and more generous in a society standing still than in one that is declining. Yet at any given time, any other product will buy more or less labor according to the amount of food it will buy then. A rent fixed in corn is therefore exposed only to changes in how much labor a given amount of corn will buy. A rent fixed in any other product is exposed both to those changes and to changes in how much corn that product will buy.
Still, the real value of a corn rent, though it changes much less than a money rent from century to century, changes much more from year to year. As I will show later, the money price of labor does not rise and fall from year to year with the money price of corn. Everywhere it seems to follow the average or usual price of this necessity, rather than its temporary price. As I will also show later, the average money price of corn depends in turn on the value of silver. It depends on how rich or poor the mines supplying silver to the market are, or on how much labor, and therefore how much corn consumed by workers, is needed to bring a given amount of silver from mine to market. Although silver's value sometimes changes greatly from century to century, it seldom changes much from year to year. It often remains the same or nearly the same for half a century or a whole century. Over such a period, therefore, corn's usual or average money price may also stay the same or nearly the same, along with the money price of labor, provided the society otherwise remains in roughly the same condition. Meanwhile, corn's temporary price may often be twice as high one year as it was the year before. It might move, for example, from five-and-twenty to fifty shillings the quarter. When it reaches the higher price, a corn rent's real as well as nominal value will be twice what it was at the lower price. It will command twice as much labor or twice as much of most other products, while the money price of labor and of most other things stays the same through these fluctuations.
Labor is thus clearly the only universal and accurate measure of value. It is the only standard for comparing the value of different products at every time and place. We cannot, admittedly, measure their real values across centuries by the amounts of silver paid for them. Nor can we measure those values across years by amounts of corn. But we can measure them most accurately, across both centuries and years, by amounts of labor. Corn is a better measure than silver across centuries, since equal amounts of corn will more nearly command the same labor than equal amounts of silver will. Across years, by contrast, silver is a better measure than corn, because equal amounts of silver will more nearly command the same labor.
Distinguishing real from nominal price may be useful when setting permanent rents or even very long leases. It is not useful when buying and selling in the ordinary transactions of life.
At the same time and place, the real and nominal prices of all products are in exact proportion. For example, the more money a product brings in the London market, the more labor that money lets you buy or command there and then. So at one time and place, money measures the real exchangeable value of all products exactly. But it does so only at that one time and place.
Across distant places, real prices and money prices do not follow any regular proportion. Yet a merchant transporting goods from one place to another need consider only their money prices: the difference between the silver he pays for them and the silver he expects to receive. Half an ounce of silver at Canton in China may command more labor and more necessities and comforts than an ounce at London. A product selling for half an ounce of silver at Canton may therefore be more expensive there in real terms, and matter more to its owner, than a product selling for an ounce at London matters to its owner there. But if a London merchant buys that product at Canton for half an ounce of silver and later sells it in London for an ounce, he gains a hundred per cent. on the deal. His gain is the same as it would be if silver had exactly the same value in both cities. It does not matter to him that half an ounce at Canton could have commanded more labor, necessities, and comforts than an ounce at London. An ounce at London will always give him command of twice as much of these things as half an ounce would have given him there, and that is exactly what he wants.
The nominal or money price of goods thus determines whether buying and selling them is sensible. It governs almost all the ordinary business of life that involves prices. No wonder people pay much more attention to it than to the real price.
Still, in a work like this it can sometimes help to compare a particular product's real values at different times and places. We may want to compare how much command over other people's labor it gave its owners on different occasions. Then we should compare not so much the different amounts of silver for which it usually sold, but the different amounts of labor those amounts of silver could buy. Yet we can almost never know wage rates at distant times and places precisely. Corn prices, though regularly recorded in few places, are generally better known. Historians and other writers have noted them more often. We must therefore usually make do with corn prices, not because they always follow wage rates exactly but because they are usually the closest available estimate. I will make several such comparisons later.
As industry developed, trading nations found it useful to coin several metals: gold for large payments, silver for purchases of moderate value, and copper or another less valuable metal for smaller ones. Yet they have always treated one metal in particular as the measure of value. Generally they seem to have chosen the metal they first used in trade. They had to make it their standard when they had no other money, and they usually kept it as their standard even after that necessity passed.
The Romans are said to have had only copper money until five years before the first Punic war (Pliny, lib. xxxiii. cap. 3), when they began to mint silver coins. Copper thus seems always to have remained the measure of value in the republic. At Rome, accounts were kept and estates valued in asses or sestertii. The as was always a copper coin. The word sestertius means two asses and a half. Though originally a silver coin, the sestertius was thus valued in copper. In Rome a person who owed a great deal was said to owe a great deal of other people's copper.
The northern peoples who settled on the ruins of the Roman empire seem to have used silver money from the start. For several centuries afterward they apparently knew neither gold nor copper coins. England had silver coins in Saxon times, but little gold was minted until the time of Edward III, and no copper until that of James I. of Great Britain. So in England, and I believe for the same reason in all other modern European nations, people keep accounts and generally value goods and estates in silver. When speaking of a person's fortune, we seldom give a number of guineas; we give the number of pounds sterling we suppose it would fetch.
Originally, I believe, every country allowed debts to be legally paid only in coins of the metal it treated as its standard of value. In England, gold was not legal tender for a long time after gold coins were introduced. No law or proclamation fixed the relative values of gold and silver coins; the market settled them. A creditor could reject a debtor's offer to pay in gold or accept it at a value they agreed on. Copper is not now legal tender except when giving change for smaller silver coins.
Under these conditions, the difference between the standard metal and the other metals was more than a difference in name.
As time passed, people grew used to coins made from different metals and learned their relative values. In most countries, I believe, it became convenient to fix that relationship by law. A law might declare, for example, that a guinea of a specified weight and purity could be exchanged for one-and-twenty shillings, or used to pay a debt of that amount. While such a fixed relationship remains in effect, the difference between the standard metal and the others becomes little more than a difference in name.
But when that legally fixed relationship changes, the distinction becomes, or at least seems to become, more than a matter of names again. Suppose the legal value of a guinea were lowered to twenty shillings or raised to two-and-twenty shillings. Since accounts and nearly all debts are stated in silver money, most debts could still be paid with the same amount of silver as before. Paying them in gold would require very different amounts: more gold in the first case and less in the second. Silver would appear more stable in value than gold. Silver would seem to measure gold's value, but gold would not seem to measure silver's. Gold's value would appear to depend on how much silver it bought, while silver's value would not appear to depend on how much gold it bought. Yet this difference would be due entirely to the custom of keeping accounts and stating both large and small amounts in silver rather than gold. One of Mr Drummond's notes for five-and-twenty or fifty guineas would still be payable in five-and-twenty or fifty guineas after such a change. The same amount of gold would pay the note, but a very different amount of silver would. For this payment, gold would appear more stable in value than silver. Gold would seem to measure silver's value, but silver would not seem to measure gold's. If it ever became common to keep accounts and state promissory notes and other debts this way, gold rather than silver would be considered the particular 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 practice, as long as a fixed ratio holds between the values of different metals in coins, the most precious metal sets the value of all the coins. Twelve copper pence contain half a pound avoirdupois of copper, and not the best kind. Before being made into coins, that copper is seldom worth seven pence in silver. But the rules say that twelve of these pence can be exchanged for a shilling. So the market treats them as worth a shilling, and anyone can get a shilling for them at any time. Even before the recent reform of Great Britain's gold coin, the gold circulating in London and nearby was generally closer to its standard weight than most of the silver was. Still, people treated twenty-one worn, defaced shillings as equal to a guinea. The guinea might also have been worn and defaced, but rarely as much. The recent rules have probably brought gold coin as close to its standard weight as circulating coin in any country can get. The order that public offices accept gold only by weight should keep it that way as long as it is enforced. Silver coin remains as worn and underweight as it was before the reform of gold coin. Yet the market still treats twenty-one of these underweight silver shillings as worth a guinea of this excellent gold coin.
Reforming gold coin has clearly raised the value of the silver coin that can be exchanged for it.
The English mint turns a pound weight of gold into forty-four guineas and a half. At twenty-one shillings per guinea, this equals forty-six pounds fourteen shillings and sixpence. An ounce of gold coin is therefore worth £ 3:17:10½ in silver. England charges no duty or seignorage for making coins. A person who brings a pound weight or an ounce weight of standard gold bullion to the mint gets that same weight back in gold coin, without any deduction. Three pounds seventeen shillings and tenpence halfpenny an ounce is therefore called the mint price of gold in England. It is the amount of gold coin the mint gives for standard gold bullion.
Before the reform of gold coin, the market price of standard gold bullion had been above £3:18s. an ounce for many years. It was sometimes £ 3:19s and very often £4. The worn, underweight gold coins making up 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, the market price was always somewhat above the mint price. Since then, it has consistently been below the mint price. This market price is the same whether payment is made in gold or silver coin. So the recent reform raised the value not only of gold coin but also of silver coin compared with gold bullion. It probably raised their values compared with all other goods too. But the prices of most other goods depend on so many other causes that the rise in the value of either kind of coin relative to those goods may be less clear or noticeable.
The English mint turns a pound weight of standard silver bullion into sixty-two shillings containing a pound weight of standard silver. Five shillings and twopence an ounce is therefore called England's mint price of silver: the amount of silver coin the mint gives for standard silver bullion. Before the gold coin reform, the market price of standard silver bullion had at different times been 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 seems to have been the most common price. Since the reform, the market price has sometimes fallen to five shillings and threepence, five shillings and fourpence, or five shillings and fivepence an ounce. It has hardly ever gone above that last price. Though the market price has fallen considerably since the reform, it has not fallen as low as the mint price.
Under the ratios set between metals in English coin, copper is valued far above its actual value, while silver is valued somewhat below its actual value. In European markets, and in French and Dutch coins, an ounce of fine gold exchanges for about fourteen ounces of fine silver. In English coins, it exchanges for about fifteen ounces. That is more silver than the gold is worth by the usual European valuation. But even in England, the high valuation of copper coins does not raise the price of copper bars. In the same way, the low valuation of silver coins does not lower the price of silver bullion. Silver bullion keeps its proper ratio to gold for the same reason copper bars keep their proper ratio to silver.
When silver coin was reformed in the reign of William III., the price of silver bullion remained somewhat above the mint price. Mr Locke attributed this high price to the permission to export silver bullion and the ban on exporting silver coin. He said the permission made demand for silver bullion greater than demand for silver coin. But surely far more people need silver coin for ordinary buying and selling at home than need silver bullion for export or any other purpose. Today there is likewise permission to export gold bullion and a ban on exporting gold coin, yet gold bullion's price has fallen below the mint price. The English coin system valued silver too low compared with gold then, just as it does now. Gold coin, which people did not think needed reform at the time, determined the real value of all coin then, just as it does now. Reforming silver coin did not bring the price of silver bullion down to the mint price then. A similar reform is therefore unlikely to do it now.
Suppose silver coin were brought as close to its standard weight as gold coin now is. At the present ratio, a guinea would probably exchange for more silver in coins than it could buy as bullion. If silver coins contained their full standard weight, a person could profit by melting them down, selling the bullion for gold coin, then exchanging that gold coin for silver coin and melting it down in turn. Changing the present ratio seems the only way to prevent this problem.
The problem might be smaller if coins valued silver as much above its proper ratio to gold as they now value it below that ratio. But at the same time, the law would have to limit silver as legal tender to the change of a guinea, just as copper is legal tender only for the change of a shilling. Then no creditor could be cheated by the high valuation of silver coins, any more than creditors can now be cheated by the high valuation of copper coins. Only bankers would suffer under this rule. When people rush to withdraw their money, bankers sometimes try to gain time by paying in sixpences. The rule would stop them from using this discreditable way of putting off immediate payment. They would have to keep more cash in their strongboxes at all times. This would certainly be a considerable inconvenience for them, but 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 gold coin today. It might therefore seem that this sum should not buy more than an ounce of standard bullion. But gold coin is handier than gold bullion. And although England makes coins without a charge, an owner who takes gold bullion to the mint seldom gets it back in coins before several weeks have passed. With the mint as busy as it is now, the delay would be several months. This delay works like a small duty and makes gold coin somewhat more valuable than the same amount of gold bullion. If English coins valued silver at its proper ratio to gold, the price of silver bullion would probably fall below the mint price even without reforming silver coin. Even the value of today's worn and defaced silver coin is determined by the value of the excellent gold coin for which it can be exchanged.
A small seignorage or duty on minting both gold and silver would probably make the coins worth even more, compared with equal amounts of bullion. Minting would add value to the metal in proportion to the size of the duty. In the same way, workmanship adds value to silverware in proportion to its cost. Coins being worth more than bullion would prevent people from melting them down and discourage exports of them. If some public emergency made it necessary to export coins, most would soon come home on their own. Abroad, they could be sold only for the value of their weight in bullion. At home, they would buy more than that. Bringing them home would therefore be profitable. France charges a seignorage of about eight per cent. for minting coins, and people say French coins that are exported come home again on their own.
The market prices of gold and silver bullion fluctuate from time to time for the same reasons as the prices of other goods. Accidents on land and at sea often cause losses of these metals. Gilding, plating, lace, and embroidery steadily use them up, as does wear and tear on coins and silverware. Countries without mines of their own must keep importing the metals to make up for these losses and uses. Like other merchants, importers presumably try to match each shipment to what they think immediate demand will be. Despite their care, sometimes they import too much and sometimes too little. If they bring in more bullion than is needed, they may prefer to sell some of it for less than the usual or average price rather than face the risk and trouble of exporting it again. If they bring in less than is needed, they get more than that price. But suppose the market price of gold or silver bullion stays steadily above or below the mint price for several years despite these short-term fluctuations. We can then be sure the persistent difference comes from the condition of the coin. Something about the coins at that time makes a given amount of coin worth more or less than the exact amount of bullion it is supposed to contain. A persistent, steady effect points to an equally persistent, steady cause.
At any time and place, a country's money measures value more or less accurately depending on how closely its circulating coins match their standard. That is, accuracy depends on how nearly they contain the exact amount of pure gold or pure silver they are supposed to contain. Suppose, for example, that in England forty-four guineas and a half contained exactly a pound weight of standard gold: eleven ounces of fine gold and one ounce of alloy. English gold coin would then be as accurate a measure of the actual value of goods at a particular time and place as such a measure can be. But suppose wear and rubbing make forty-four guineas and a half generally contain less than a pound weight of standard gold, and some coins lose more than others. The measure of value then becomes uncertain, much like other weights and measures. Those rarely match their standards exactly. A merchant therefore sets prices as best he can, not according to what the weights and measures should be, but according to what experience shows them to be on average. When coins have a similar defect, goods are priced not according to how much pure gold or silver the coins should contain, but according to how much they contain on average in actual experience.
When I speak of the money price of goods, I always mean the amount of pure gold or silver for which they are sold, whatever the coin is called. For example, I count six shillings and eight pence in the time of Edward I. as the same money price as a pound sterling today, because, as far as we can tell, it contained the same amount 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 Parts That Make Up the Price of Goods
In the early, undeveloped state of society, before stock has built up and before anyone owns land, the amount of labor usually needed to get different things seems to be the only guide for exchanging them. Suppose, for example, that hunters usually need twice as much labor to kill a beaver as to kill a deer. One beaver should naturally exchange for two deer, or be worth two deer. Something that normally takes two days or two hours of labor to produce is naturally worth twice as much as something that takes one day or one hour.
If one kind of labor is harder than another, people will naturally allow for the extra hardship. One hour's work at the harder task may often exchange for two hours' work at the other.
Or one kind of work may require unusual skill and cleverness. People value those abilities, so they naturally value the resulting product more highly than the time spent making it alone would justify. Such abilities can rarely be learned without long practice. The higher value of the product may often be no more than fair payment for the time and labor spent learning them. In a more developed society, wages commonly allow for unusual hardship and special skill. Something similar probably happened even in the earliest, least developed period.
Under those conditions, everything produced by labor belongs to the worker. The amount of labor normally needed to get or produce an item is the only thing that determines how much labor that item should normally buy, command, or exchange for.
Once stock builds up in certain people's hands, some will naturally use it to employ hard-working people. They will supply these workers with materials and food, hoping to profit by selling what the workers make, or by selling the extra value their labor adds to the materials. When the finished product is exchanged for money, labor, or other goods, its price must cover more than the materials and workers' wages. It must also provide a profit for the person running the enterprise, who risks his stock on it. The value workers add to the materials thus has two parts: one pays their wages; the other pays their employer's profit on all the stock he advanced for materials and wages. He would have no reason to employ them unless he expected to get back more from selling their work than the stock he had put in. Nor would he have a reason to put a large amount of stock to work instead of a small one unless his profit increased with the amount of stock.
It might seem that profits on stock are just another name for the wages paid for a particular kind of work: supervision and management. But they are quite different. They follow entirely different rules and bear no relation to how much supervisory work is done, how hard it is, or how much skill it takes. Profit depends entirely on the value of the stock employed and rises or falls with its size. Suppose, for example, that the usual yearly profit on stock used in manufacturing is ten per cent. in some place. Consider two manufacturers, each employing twenty workers at fifteen pounds a year apiece, for a yearly wage bill of three hundred pounds each. Suppose the rough materials used each year by one cost only seven hundred pounds, while the finer materials used by the other cost seven thousand. The stock employed each year is then one thousand pounds for the first manufacturer and seven thousand three hundred pounds for the second. At ten per cent., the first owner expects a yearly profit of only about one hundred pounds; the second expects about seven hundred and thirty pounds. Yet the work of supervising and managing each enterprise may be exactly, or almost exactly, the same. In many large operations, a head clerk does nearly all that work. His wages are the proper measure of the value of supervision and management. His pay usually reflects not just his work and skill but also the trust placed in him. Still, it is never regularly proportional to the stock whose management he oversees. The owner of that stock does almost none of the work, but still expects a profit proportional to his stock. In the price of goods, therefore, profit on stock is a part entirely separate from wages, and it follows entirely different rules.
Under these conditions, the worker does not always keep everything his labor produces. In most cases he must share it with the owner of the stock used to employ him. And the amount of labor normally needed to get or produce an item is no longer the only thing that determines how much labor the item should normally buy, command, or exchange for. Another amount must clearly go toward profit on the stock that paid the wages and supplied the materials.
Once all the land in a country becomes private property, landowners, like everyone else, like to reap what they never sowed. They demand rent even for what the land produces naturally. When land was shared, workers needed only the effort of gathering forest wood, field grass, and all the other natural products of the earth. Now even they face an extra price for those things. They must pay for permission to gather them and hand over part of what their labor gathers or produces to the landowner. That part, or its price, is rent on the land. It makes up a third part of the price of most goods.
Note that the real value of each of these parts of the price is measured by how much labor it can buy or command. Labor measures the value of the part that pays for labor, but also the parts that pay rent and profit.
The price of any item in any society ultimately consists of one, two, or all three of these parts. In every developed society, all three contribute to the price of by far the most goods, to a greater or lesser extent.
Consider the price of grain. One part pays the landowner's rent. Another pays the wages or upkeep of the workers and working animals that produce it. The third pays the farmer's profit. These three parts seem to make up the entire price, whether directly or after tracing costs back to their sources. Someone might think a fourth part is needed to replace the farmer's stock or cover wear and tear on his working animals and other farm equipment. But consider the price of any piece of farm equipment, such as a working horse. Its own price also has those same three parts: rent on the land where it was raised, labor spent tending and raising it, and the profit of the farmer who advanced both the rent and the wages. Thus, although the price of grain may pay both for the horse and for its upkeep, the entire price still ultimately consists of 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
The price of flour or meal includes the price of grain, plus the miller's profit and the wages of his workers. The price of bread also includes the baker's profit and the wages of his workers. Both prices include the labor of moving grain from the farmer's home to the miller's and from the miller's to the baker's, along with the profits of the people who advance the wages for that labor.
The price of flax has the same three parts as the price of grain. Linen's price also includes the wages of the people who dress the flax, spin it, weave it, and bleach it, and so on, along with the profits of each of their employers.
The more processing a product undergoes, the larger the share of its price that goes to wages and profit, compared with the share that goes to rent. As manufacturing progresses, there are not only more profits to pay, but each successive profit is larger than the last. That is because the stock on which it is earned must always be larger. For example, the stock that employs weavers must be greater than the stock that employs spinners. It must repay that earlier stock and its profits and must also pay the weavers' wages. Profits must always be in some proportion to the stock employed.
Even in the most developed societies, though, a few goods have prices with only two parts: wages and profits on stock. An even smaller number have prices made up entirely of wages. Consider the price of fish caught at sea. One part pays for the fisherman's labor, and the other pays profit on the stock used in fishing. Rent is very seldom part of the price, though it sometimes is, as I will show later. River fishing is different, at least in most of Europe. A salmon fishery pays rent. Though this can hardly be called rent on land, rent is part of a salmon's price, along with wages and profit. In some parts of Scotland, a few poor people earn their living by gathering the small, multicolored stones along the seashore called Scotch pebbles. The price a stonecutter pays them consists entirely of their wages. Neither rent nor profit contributes to it.
Still, the whole price of any product must ultimately consist of one, two, or all three parts. Whatever is left after paying the rent on the land and the full cost of the labor used to produce, process, and bring it to market must be somebody's profit.
The price, or exchange value, of any single item consists of one, two, or all three of these parts. The same must therefore be true of the price of all the goods produced by a country's labor in a year, taken together. That price is distributed among the country's people as wages for their labor, profits on their stock, or rent on their land. Everything a society gathers or produces by its labor each year—or, equivalently, its total price—is first distributed among some of its members in this way. Wages, profit, and rent are the three original sources of all revenue and all exchange value. Every other kind of revenue ultimately comes from one of them.
A person who gets revenue from resources of his own must get it from his labor, his stock, or his land. Revenue from labor is called wages. Revenue from stock is called profit when it goes to the person who manages or uses that stock. When it goes instead to someone who lends out the stock rather than using it himself, it is called interest, or the use of money. The borrower pays the lender this amount in exchange for the chance to make a profit using the money. Part of that profit naturally goes to the borrower, who takes the risk and trouble of putting the money to work. Part goes to the lender, who gives the borrower the chance to make it. Interest is always revenue derived from another source. If it is not paid out of profits made by using the money, it must come from some other source of revenue. The exception may be a wasteful borrower who takes out a second loan to pay interest on the first. Revenue that comes entirely from land is called rent and goes to the landowner. A farmer's revenue comes partly from his labor and partly from his stock. For him, land is only a tool that lets him earn wages for his labor and profits on his stock. Taxes and all revenue based on them, along with all salaries, pensions, and annuities of every kind, ultimately come from one of these three original sources. They are paid directly or indirectly out of wages, profits on stock, or rent on land.
When these three kinds of revenue go to different people, it is easy to tell them apart. When one person gets more than one kind, people sometimes mix them up, at least in ordinary speech.
A gentleman who farms some of his own estate should, after paying the costs of cultivation, receive both a landowner's rent and a farmer's profit. But he is likely to call everything he earns profit. In ordinary speech, at least, he thus mixes up rent and profit. Most North American and West Indian planters are in this position. Most farm their own estates, so we rarely hear about a plantation's rent but often hear about its profit.
Ordinary farmers seldom employ a supervisor to manage the farm as a whole. They also usually do a good deal of work themselves, plowing, harrowing, and so on. What remains of the crop after paying rent should therefore repay the stock they put into cultivation and provide the usual profit on it. It should also pay them wages for their own work, both as laborers and as supervisors. But whatever remains after paying rent and replacing the stock is called profit. It clearly includes wages too. Farmers earn those wages by saving what they would have had to pay someone else. So in this case wages are mixed up with profit.
An independent manufacturer with enough stock to buy materials and support himself until he can take his product to market should earn both the wages a hired worker would receive under a master and the profit the master would make by selling that worker's product. But people commonly call all his earnings profit. Again, wages are mixed up with profit.
A gardener who works his own garden is at once a landowner, a farmer, and a laborer. What he produces should therefore pay him rent as the first, profit as the second, and wages as the third. Yet people usually count all of it as earnings from his labor. Here both rent and profit are mixed up with wages.
In a developed country, very few goods get their exchange value from labor alone. Rent and profit make a large contribution to the value of most goods. The goods produced by a country's labor each year will therefore always be enough to buy or command much more labor than was used to produce, prepare, and bring them to market. If society used all the labor those goods could buy each year, the amount of labor employed would grow greatly year after year. The value of each year's output would then be far greater than that of the year before. But no country uses everything it produces in a year to support hard-working people. Idle people everywhere consume a large share. Depending on the shares distributed each year to these two groups, the usual or average value of the annual output must rise, fall, or stay the same 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 Goods
In every society or neighborhood, each kind of work and each use of stock has a usual or average rate of wages and profit. As I will show later, this rate depends partly on the society's general condition: whether it is rich or poor, and whether it is growing, stable, or declining. It also depends partly on the particular kind of work or use of stock.
Every society or neighborhood also has a usual or average rate of rent. As I will show later, this depends partly on the general conditions in the society or neighborhood where the land lies, and partly on how fertile the land is, either naturally or after improvement.
The usual or average rates at a given time and place may be called the natural rates of wages, profit, and rent there.
A product sells at what may be called its natural price when its price is just enough to pay for the land's rent, the workers' wages, and the profits on the stock used to produce, prepare, and bring it to market, all at their natural rates.
It then sells for exactly what it is worth, or what it really costs the person bringing it to market. People do not normally include the seller's profit in what they call a product's original cost. But if he sells at a price that does not give him the usual rate of profit in his neighborhood, he clearly loses out on the deal. He could have earned that profit by putting his stock to a different use. Moreover, his profit is his revenue, the source of his living. While preparing the goods and bringing them to market, he advances wages or living expenses to his workers. In the same way, he advances his own living expenses, which generally match the profit he can reasonably expect when he sells the goods. If the goods do not yield that profit, they do not repay what can properly be called their real cost to him.
A price that allows this profit is not always the very lowest at which a dealer might occasionally sell his goods. But it is the lowest at which he is likely to sell them for any substantial length of time, at least where he is free to switch businesses as often as he likes.
The actual price for which a product is usually sold is called its market price. It can be above, below, or equal to its natural price.
The market price of a particular product depends on how much of it is actually brought to market compared with the demand from people willing to pay its natural price. That price covers all the rent, labor, and profit that must be paid to bring the product there. These people can be called effective buyers, and their demand effective demand, because it can bring the product to market. This differs from demand in the broad sense. A very poor man may in some sense want a coach and six horses. He might like to have them. But his demand is not effective demand, because nobody could bring them to market to satisfy it.
When less of a product is brought to market than effective demand calls for, not all the people willing to pay the full cost of rent, wages, and profit can get as much as they want. Some will pay more rather than go without it. They will immediately compete with each other, and the market price will rise above the natural price. How far it rises depends on how large the shortage is and how strongly the buyers' wealth and taste for luxury drive their competition. Among buyers equally rich and equally fond of luxury, the same shortage leads to stronger or weaker competition depending on how much it matters to them to get the product. That is why life's necessities become extraordinarily expensive when a town is blockaded or during a famine.
When more of a product is brought to market than effective demand calls for, it cannot all be sold to people willing to pay the full cost of rent, wages, and profit. Some must go to people willing to pay less, and their lower offers pull down the price of the whole supply. The market price falls below the natural price. How far it falls depends on how much the excess supply increases competition among sellers and how urgently they need to get rid of the product. The same excess supply causes much more competition when goods spoil easily than when they last: oranges, for example, rather than old iron.
When the amount brought to market exactly meets effective demand, and does not exceed it, the market price naturally equals the natural price, or comes as close as we can judge. Sellers can dispose of the entire supply at that price but not at a higher one. Competition among dealers forces them all to accept it, but does not force them to accept less.
The amount of any product brought to market naturally adjusts to effective demand. Everyone using land, labor, or stock to bring it to market has an interest in keeping the amount from exceeding that demand. Everyone else has an interest in keeping it from falling short.
If the amount exceeds effective demand at any time, at least one part of the price must be paid at less than its natural rate. If that part is rent, landowners' interests will immediately lead them to take some of their land out of that use. If it is wages or profit, workers or their employers will have an interest in moving some of their labor or stock into other uses. Soon the amount brought to market will be only enough to meet effective demand. Every part of the price will rise to its natural rate, and the whole price will rise to its natural price.
If instead the amount brought to market falls short of effective demand at any time, at least one part of the price must rise above its natural rate. If that part is rent, other landowners will naturally have an interest in preparing more land to produce the item. If it is wages or profit, other workers and dealers will soon have an interest in using more labor and stock to prepare and bring it to market. Soon the supply there will be enough to meet effective demand. Each part of the price will fall to its natural rate, and the whole price will fall to its natural price.
Natural price is therefore a kind of central price toward which the prices of all goods are always moving. Chance events may sometimes hold prices far above it or push them somewhat below it. But whatever keeps them from settling at that stable level, they are always moving toward it.
The total amount of labor and business activity devoted each year to bringing a product to market adjusts in this way to effective demand. It naturally aims to bring in exactly enough to satisfy that demand and no more.
But the same amount of work produces very different amounts of goods from year to year in some occupations, while in others it produces the same amount, or nearly so. The same number of farmworkers produce very different amounts of grain, wine, oil, hops, and so on in different years. But the same number of spinners or weavers produce the same amount of linen and woolen cloth each year, or nearly so. In farming, only average output can be matched to effective demand to any extent. Actual output is often much higher or lower than average. So the amount brought to market will sometimes greatly exceed demand and sometimes fall far short of it. Even if demand stays the same, the market price will swing widely, sometimes dropping well below natural price and sometimes rising well above it. In the other kind of work, equal amounts of labor produce the same output, or nearly so. Output can therefore be matched much more closely to effective demand. As long as that demand stays the same, the market price is likely to stay the same too, equal to the natural price or as close as can be judged. Everyone knows from experience that the price of linen and woolen cloth varies less often and less sharply than the price of grain. Prices of the first kind of goods change only when demand changes. Prices of the second kind change both when demand changes and when the amount brought to market changes, which happens much more often and on a much larger scale.
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
Short-term changes in a commodity’s market price mainly affect the parts of its price that pay wages and profit. They have less effect on the part that pays rent. A rent fixed in money does not change in either amount or value because of them. Rent paid as a fixed share or quantity of raw produce does change in yearly value when the market price of that produce changes for a short time. But its yearly rate seldom changes. When a landlord and farmer agree on a lease, they try to set that rate according to their best judgment of the produce’s usual average price, not its short-term price.
These changes affect both the amount and value of wages or profit. The effect depends on whether the market has too many or too few goods or workers, too much finished work or too much work waiting to be done. Public mourning raises the price of black cloth, which is almost always in short supply at such times. It raises the profits of merchants who have a substantial quantity of it. It does not affect weavers’ wages. There is a shortage of goods, not labor; of finished work, not work to be done. It raises the wages of journeymen tailors. Here there is a shortage of labor: paying demand for more work than the available workers can do. Public mourning lowers the price of colored silks and cloths. It thus cuts the profits of merchants holding substantial stocks of them. It also lowers the wages of workers making these goods, since demand for them stops for six months, perhaps for a whole year. Here there are too many goods and too many workers for the market.
The market price of each commodity is constantly drawn toward its natural price in this way. Yet particular events, natural causes, or specific government rules can keep the market price of many goods well above their natural price for a long time.
When increased demand from buyers able to pay drives a commodity’s market price far above its natural price, those who use their stock to supply the market usually try to hide the change. If it became common knowledge, the high profit would draw so many new competitors and their stock into the same business that paying demand would soon be fully met. The market price would then fall to its natural price, perhaps even below it for a while. If suppliers live far from the market, they may manage to keep the secret for several years and earn unusually high profits without new competitors. But secrets of this sort rarely stay hidden long. The extra profit usually lasts little longer than the secret itself.
Manufacturing secrets can be kept longer than trading secrets. Suppose a dyer finds a way to make a particular color with materials costing only half as much as the usual ones. With careful management, the dyer may benefit from the discovery for life and even pass it on to descendants. The extra earnings come from the high price paid for this specialized work. Strictly speaking, they are high wages for that work. But the earnings recur on every part of the dyer’s stock and thus bear a regular relation to the whole stock. People therefore commonly count them as unusually high profits on stock.
These increases in market price plainly result from particular events, though their effects may sometimes last many years.
Some natural products need such unusual soil and location that even all the suitable land in a large country may not produce enough to meet demand from buyers able to pay. The entire supply can therefore be sold to people willing to pay more than enough to cover rent on the producing land, wages for the labor, and profits on the stock used to prepare the goods and bring them to market, all at their natural rates. Such goods can sell at that high price for centuries. In this case, it is generally the portion of the price paid as land rent that exceeds its natural rate. Consider the rent of certain vineyards in France with especially favorable soil and locations. It has no regular relation to the rent of neighboring land that is just as fertile and just as well cultivated. By contrast, the wages and profits involved in bringing these goods to market seldom differ from the natural relation to wages and profits in other local uses of labor and stock.
These market-price increases clearly arise from natural causes. Those causes may prevent paying demand from ever being fully met, so their effects may last forever.
A monopoly granted to a person or a trading company has the same effect as a secret in trade or manufacturing. Monopolists never fully meet paying demand and so keep the market in short supply. They sell far above the natural price and push their earnings, whether wages or profit, far above the natural rate.
A monopoly price is always the highest price sellers can get. The natural price, or the price under free competition, is instead the lowest they can accept over a considerable period, though not necessarily on every occasion. One is the highest price that can be extracted from buyers, or that sellers think buyers will agree to pay. The other is the lowest sellers can ordinarily accept while staying in business.
Corporations’ exclusive privileges, apprenticeship statutes, and all laws that restrict competition in particular occupations to fewer people than would otherwise enter them have the same effect, though to a lesser degree. They are broad kinds of monopoly. For centuries at a time, across whole groups of occupations, they can keep the market prices of certain goods above their natural prices. They can also keep both wages and profits on the stock used in those occupations somewhat above their natural rates.
Such increases in market price may last as long as the government rules that cause them.
A commodity’s market price can stay above its natural price for a long time, but it can seldom stay below it for long. If any part of the price paid less than its natural rate, the people affected would immediately feel the loss. They would withdraw enough land, labor, or stock from making the commodity that the market supply would soon be no more than enough to meet paying demand. Its market price would soon rise to the natural price. This would at least happen where people were completely free to change occupations and investments.
The same apprenticeship statutes and other corporation laws that let workers raise their wages well above the natural rate when a trade prospers can sometimes force their wages well below it when the trade declines. When business is good, these rules keep many people out of a worker’s occupation. When it is bad, they keep that worker out of many other occupations. But these rules cannot keep wages below the natural rate nearly as long as they can keep wages above it. The upward effect may last for centuries. The downward effect can last only through the lives of some workers trained for the trade in its prosperous period. After those workers are gone, the number of people newly trained for it will naturally adjust to paying demand. To keep wages or profits in a particular occupation below their natural rates for several generations, a policy would have to be as severe as those of Indostan or ancient Egypt. There, religion bound each person to a father’s occupation, and changing occupations was supposed to be a terrible sacrilege.
That is all I think needs to be said here about the temporary or lasting ways market prices of goods differ from their natural prices.
The natural price itself changes as the natural rates of its components—wages, profit, and rent—change. In every society, these rates depend on its circumstances: whether it is rich or poor, growing, holding steady, or declining. In the next four chapters, I will explain the causes of these different changes as fully and clearly as I can.
First, I will explain what naturally sets the rate of wages, and how a society’s wealth or poverty and its growth, stability, or decline affect those circumstances.
Second, I will show what naturally sets the rate of profit, and how those same changes in society affect it.
Money wages differ greatly among uses of labor, as do money profits among uses of stock. Even so, there seems usually to be a fairly stable relation among the money wages of different kinds of work and among the money profits of different uses of stock. As we will see, that relation depends partly on the nature of the occupations and partly on the laws and policies of the society where they operate. Though laws and policies affect it in many ways, the relation seems little affected by whether the society is rich or poor, growing, stable, or declining. It stays the same, or nearly so, in all those conditions. Third, I will explain all the different circumstances that govern this relation.
Fourth and finally, I will show what determines land rent and what raises or lowers the real price of the various things 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.
What labor produces is naturally the worker’s reward, or wages. In the original state of society, before land became private property and before stock accumulated, workers kept everything their labor produced. There was no landlord or employer to take a share.
If that state had continued, wages would have risen with every increase in the productivity of labor brought about by the division of labor. Everything would gradually have become cheaper. Each item would take less labor to produce. Goods made with equal amounts of labor would naturally be exchanged for one another in that state, so each could also be bought with the product of less labor than before.
Even though everything would really have become cheaper, many things might have appeared to become more expensive. They might have exchanged for larger quantities of other goods. Suppose, for example, that labor in most occupations became ten times as productive, so a day’s work produced ten times its former output. But in one particular occupation, productivity only doubled, so a day’s work produced twice its former output. When the product of a day’s work in most occupations was traded for the product of a day’s work in that one, ten times the original output of the first group would buy only twice the original output of the second. A given quantity of the second product, a pound weight for example, would therefore appear five times as expensive. In reality, it would be twice as cheap. It would take five times as much of other goods to buy, but only half as much labor to buy or make. Obtaining it would be twice as easy as before.
But the original situation, in which workers kept everything they produced, could not continue after land became private property and stock began to accumulate. It ended long before the most important improvements in labor productivity. There is therefore no point in examining further what it might have meant for workers’ pay.
Once land becomes private property, the landlord demands a share of nearly everything a worker grows or gathers from it. Rent is the first deduction from what labor on the land produces.
The person who tills the ground seldom has enough to live on until the harvest. A farmer who employs that person usually provides support in advance from the farmer’s stock. The farmer would have no reason to employ the worker without either a share of the product or repayment of that stock with a profit. This profit is a second deduction from the product of work on the land.
Profit is similarly deducted from what almost every other kind of labor produces. In crafts and manufacturing, most workers need an employer to provide materials, wages, and support until the work is finished. That employer takes a share of what they produce, or of the value their work adds to the materials. This share is the employer’s profit.
Sometimes an independent worker has enough stock to buy materials and to live on until the work is finished. That person is both employer and worker, and keeps the entire product of the work, or all the value the work adds to the materials. The proceeds include what are normally two separate forms of income belonging to two separate people: profit on stock and wages for labor.
Such cases are not common. Everywhere in Europe there are twenty workers employed by someone else for every independent worker. Wages are therefore understood everywhere as the payment made when a worker and the owner of the stock employing that worker are different people.
The usual wage everywhere depends on the agreement ordinarily reached between those two parties. Their interests are not at all the same. Workers want to receive as much as possible, and employers want to pay as little as possible. Workers tend to join together to raise wages; employers join together to lower them.
It is easy to see which side generally has the advantage in such a dispute and can force the other to accept its terms. Employers are fewer, so they can join together more easily. The law also authorizes, or at least does not forbid, their combinations, while forbidding workers’ combinations. We have no acts of parliament against joining together to lower pay for work, but many against joining together to raise it. In any such dispute, employers can hold out much longer. A landlord, farmer, manufacturer, or merchant can generally live for a year or two on accumulated stock without employing a single worker. Many workers cannot survive a week without work; few can survive a month, and hardly any can survive a year. In the long run, workers may be as necessary to their employers as employers are to them. But their need is not as immediate.
It has been said that we often hear of workers joining forces but rarely hear of employers doing so. Anyone who takes this to mean employers rarely combine understands neither the world nor the subject. Employers everywhere have a quiet, steady, shared understanding that they will not raise wages above the current rate. An employer who breaks with this practice is unpopular and earns the disapproval of neighboring employers and peers. We rarely hear of the practice because it is the usual, almost natural condition, which attracts no notice. Employers sometimes form special agreements to push wages even below the current rate. They keep these arrangements completely secret until they act. When workers give in, as they sometimes do without resistance, outsiders never hear of it, though the workers suffer badly. Workers often respond with their own defensive combinations. Sometimes, without any such provocation, they also combine on their own initiative to raise their pay. They generally cite either expensive food or the large profits their employers make from their work. But whether workers join forces to attack or defend, everyone hears about it. To get a quick decision, they resort to the loudest protests and sometimes to appalling violence and outrage. In desperation they act recklessly and extravagantly: they must either starve or scare their employers into immediately meeting their demands. On the other side, employers are just as loud. They constantly call for help from civil authorities and for strict enforcement of the severe laws against combinations of servants, laborers, and journeymen. Workers thus very rarely gain from the violence of these disorderly combinations. Intervention by the authorities, the greater ability of employers to hold firm, and most workers’ need to submit so they can live now generally mean that the leaders are punished or ruined, with no other result.
Even though employers generally win disputes with workers, there is a certain level below which the usual wages of even the lowest kind of labor cannot, it seems, be reduced for long.
People must be able to live by their work, so their wages must at least support them. In most cases wages must be somewhat higher. Otherwise workers could not raise families, and that group of workers could not last beyond its first generation. For this reason Mr Cantillon seems to think that the lowest-paid ordinary workers everywhere must earn at least twice what they need for their own support. On average, this would allow them to raise two children. He assumes that a wife’s labor only covers her own support because she must care for the children. It is estimated, however, that 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 adulthood. The support needed by four children is thought to be nearly equal to that needed by one man. The same author adds that the labor of an able-bodied slave is reckoned to be worth twice the cost of supporting that slave. He thinks even the lowest-paid worker’s labor cannot be worth less than the slave’s. At least this much seems clear: to raise a family, a husband and wife together must earn somewhat more than exactly what they need to support themselves, even in the lowest-paid ordinary work. I will not try to decide whether the necessary increase is the amount just mentioned or some other amount.
Certain circumstances do sometimes give workers an advantage and let them raise wages considerably above this level, which is clearly the lowest that ordinary human decency allows.
When demand for people who earn wages—laborers, journeymen, and servants of every kind—is constantly growing in a country, more people find work each year than in the last. Workers then need not join forces to raise wages. A shortage of workers makes employers compete and bid against one another to hire them. Employers thus voluntarily break their usual shared practice of keeping wages down. Demand for wage earners can grow only as the funds set aside to pay them grow. There are two kinds of these funds: first, revenue beyond what employers need for their own support; second, stock beyond what they need for their own work.
When a landlord, someone receiving an annuity, or a wealthy person has more income than seems necessary to support the family, that person uses some or all of the surplus to support one or more household servants. A larger surplus naturally means hiring more servants.
When an independent worker, such as a weaver or shoemaker, has more stock than is needed to buy materials and live until the work can be sold, that worker naturally uses the surplus to hire one or more journeymen and profit from their work. A larger surplus naturally means hiring more journeymen.
Demand for wage earners therefore necessarily grows as a country’s revenue and stock grow, and cannot grow without that growth. Growing revenue and stock mean growing national wealth. Demand for wage earners thus naturally grows with national wealth, and cannot grow without it.
It is not how wealthy a country already is that raises wages, but how steadily its wealth is increasing. Wages are therefore highest not in the richest countries but in the most prosperous, those growing rich most quickly. England today is certainly much richer than any part of North America. Yet wages in North America are much higher than anywhere in England. In the province of New York, before the recent disturbances began, ordinary laborers in 1773 earned three shillings and sixpence currency a day, equal to two shillings sterling. Ship-carpenters earned ten shillings and sixpence currency plus a pint of rum worth sixpence sterling, together equal to six shillings and sixpence sterling. House-carpenters and bricklayers earned eight shillings currency, equal to four shillings and sixpence sterling. Journeymen tailors earned five shillings currency, equal to about two shillings and tenpence sterling. These rates are all higher than London’s, and wages are said to be as high in the other colonies as in New York. Food costs much less everywhere in North America than in England. No food shortage has ever been known there. Even in the worst seasons, people have always had enough for themselves, though less to export. Since the money price of labor is higher there than anywhere in the mother country, its real price—the quantity of life’s necessities and comforts that workers can buy—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
North America is not yet as rich as England, but it is growing much faster and becoming richer at a much greater rate. The clearest sign 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 doubles in twenty or five-and-twenty years. Today that growth comes mainly not from the steady arrival of newcomers but from people having many children. People who reach old age there often live to see fifty to a hundred direct descendants, and sometimes many more. Labor is so well paid that many children bring their parents wealth and prosperity rather than becoming a burden. Before leaving home, each child’s work is reckoned to bring the parents a clear gain of a hundred pounds. In Europe, a young widow of the middle or lower ranks with four or five small children would have little chance of finding another husband. There she is often courted as if she brought a fortune. Children’s economic value provides the strongest encouragement to marry. So it is no surprise that North Americans generally marry very young. Despite the great population growth caused by these early marriages, people constantly complain that workers are scarce. Demand for workers, and the funds set aside to support them, apparently grow faster still than the supply of people available to work.
Even if a country is very rich, wages are unlikely to be very high if its wealth has long stopped growing. The revenue and stock of its inhabitants, the funds used to pay wages, may be enormous. But if those funds have stayed the same, or nearly the same, for centuries, the number of people working each year could readily meet or exceed the next year’s demand for workers. Workers would rarely be scarce, and employers would not have to compete to hire them. Instead, the number of workers would naturally grow beyond the available jobs. Jobs would always be scarce, and workers would have to compete for them. If wages in such a country had ever exceeded what a worker needed to live and raise a family, competition among workers and employers’ interest would soon push them down to the lowest level compatible with ordinary human decency. China has long been one of the world’s richest countries: among the most fertile, best cultivated, most industrious, and most populous. Yet it seems to have long stopped growing. Marco Polo visited it more than five hundred years ago. His descriptions of its farming, industry, and population are much like descriptions by travelers today. Perhaps even before his visit, China had reached the maximum wealth that its laws and institutions allowed. Travelers’ accounts disagree on many other points, but all agree that Chinese wages are low and that workers struggle to raise families. A worker is content if a whole day digging the ground earns enough to buy a little rice that evening. The condition of craftspeople is worse, if that is possible. Instead of waiting idly in their workshops for customers, as in Europe, they constantly run through the streets carrying the tools of their trades, offering their services and practically begging for work. Poverty among China’s lower ranks far exceeds poverty among the poorest peoples of Europe. Near Canton, it is commonly said that many hundred, indeed many thousand, families have no home on land. They live all the time in small fishing boats on rivers and canals. They find so little to eat there that they eagerly fish the filthiest garbage thrown overboard by European ships out of the water. A dead animal, such as the half-rotten, foul-smelling body of a dog or cat, is as welcome to them as healthy food is to people in other countries. In China, marriage is encouraged not because children bring income, but because parents are free to destroy them. In every large town, several children are left in the streets each night or drowned in the water like puppies. Some people are even said to earn a living openly by doing this horrifying work.
China may be standing still, but it does not seem to be going backward. Its towns have not lost their inhabitants, and land once farmed is not left untended. So the country must still perform the same amount, or nearly the same amount, of labor each year. The funds that support that labor therefore cannot have fallen substantially. Despite their scant food and other necessities, the lowest-paid workers must somehow have enough surviving children to keep their numbers steady.
Things would be different in a country where the funds for supporting workers were clearly shrinking. Every year there would be less demand for servants and laborers in every type of work. Many people trained for better-paid kinds of work would fail to find jobs in their own occupations and would gladly look for work in the lowest-paid jobs. Those occupations would have too many of their own workers as well as people coming from all the others. Competition for jobs would be so intense that wages would fall to the most miserable, meager level of survival. Many would find no jobs even on these harsh terms. They would starve or be driven to survive by begging, or perhaps by committing terrible crimes. Poverty, famine, and death would quickly spread through the lowest class and then through the higher ones. The country’s population would shrink until the revenue and stock left there could easily support it. That remaining wealth would be what had escaped the tyranny or disaster that destroyed the rest. This may be close to the present condition of Bengal and some other English settlements in the East Indies. Consider a fertile country that has already lost much of its population, so food should not be very hard to obtain. If three or four hundred thousand people nevertheless die of hunger in a single year, we can be sure that the funds for supporting poor workers are rapidly shrinking. The contrast between the British constitution, which protects and governs North America, and the mercantile company, which oppresses and dominates the East Indies, may be seen most clearly in the different conditions of those places.
Generous pay for labor is therefore both a necessary effect and a natural sign of growing national wealth. Meager support for poor workers is a natural sign of a country standing still. Workers starving is a sign that it is rapidly declining.
In Great Britain today, wages appear clearly to exceed the bare amount workers need to raise families. We need not make a long or uncertain calculation of that minimum to see it. Several clear signs show that wages nowhere in the country are set by the lowest level compatible with ordinary human decency.
First, in almost every part of Great Britain, even the lowest-paid work has different summer and winter wages. Summer wages are always higher. Yet supporting a family costs more in winter because fuel is unusually expensive then. Since wages are highest when these costs are lowest, they plainly depend on how much work is done and what that work is thought to be worth, rather than the cost of support. One might say that workers should save part of their summer wages to pay winter costs, so their pay over the whole year is no greater than what their families need for the year. But we would not treat a slave, or anyone completely dependent on us for immediate support, that way. We would provide daily support in line with daily needs.
Second, British wages do not rise and fall with food prices. Those prices change everywhere from year to year and often from month to month. But in many places the money wage stays the same, sometimes for half a century. If poor workers in those places can support their families when food is expensive, they must live comfortably when supplies are moderately abundant and be well-off when food is unusually cheap. High food prices over these ten years past have not brought any noticeable rise in money wages in many parts of the kingdom. In some places wages have risen, probably more because demand for labor increased than because food prices did.
Third, food prices vary more between years than wages do, but wages vary more between places than food prices do. Bread and butcher’s meat generally cost the same, or nearly the same, across most of the united kingdom. These and most other goods sold at retail—the way poor workers buy everything—are generally at least as cheap in large towns as in remote rural areas, for reasons I will explain later. But wages in a large town and its surrounding area are often a fourth or a fifth part, twenty or five-and–twenty per cent. higher than wages a few miles away. Eighteen pence a day may be taken as the usual wage in London and nearby. A few miles away it falls to fourteen and fifteen pence. Tenpence may be taken as the wage in Edinburgh and nearby. A few miles away it falls to eightpence, the usual wage for ordinary work throughout most of lowland Scotland, where wages vary considerably less than in England. This wage difference is apparently not always enough to make a person move from one parish to another. But the same difference in the price of bulky goods would inevitably cause them to be shipped in large quantities from parish to parish, and even from one end of the kingdom—almost one end of the world—to the other. That trade would soon bring prices closer together. Whatever has been said about human fickleness, experience clearly shows that people are the hardest cargo of all to move. So if poor workers can support their families where wages are lowest in the kingdom, they must be well-off where wages are highest.
Fourth, changes in wages not only fail to match changes in food prices across places or over time. They often go in opposite directions.
Grain, the ordinary people’s food, is more expensive in Scotland than in England, which sends Scotland very large supplies almost every year. English grain must sell for more in Scotland, where it is delivered, than in England, where it comes from. Given its quality, it also cannot sell for more in Scotland than Scottish grain competing with it in the same market. Grain quality depends mainly on how much flour or meal it yields when milled. English grain is so much better than Scottish grain in this respect that, although it often appears more expensive by volume, it generally costs less for its actual quality or even by weight. By contrast, labor costs more in England than in Scotland. If poor workers can support their families in one part of the united kingdom, they must be well-off in the other. Oatmeal does provide the largest and best part of the ordinary Scottish diet, which is generally much worse than the diet of people of the same rank in England. But this difference in diet results from the difference in wages; it does not cause it, although I have often heard people mistakenly claim that it does. One man is not rich because he rides in a coach while his neighbor walks. The rich man rides because he is rich, and the poor man walks 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, grain was more expensive on average in both parts of the united kingdom than it has been during this century. There is no reasonable doubt about this fact. The evidence is even stronger for Scotland than for England. In Scotland, the public fiars provide evidence. These were annual valuations of each kind of grain in every county, sworn to reflect actual market conditions. If such direct evidence needed support, I would note that grain prices followed the same pattern in France, and probably in most of Europe. The evidence for France is very clear. Yet while grain was somewhat more expensive in both parts of the united kingdom last century, labor was certainly much cheaper. If working people could raise families then, they must be much better off now. Last century, ordinary daily wages for common labor across most of Scotland were sixpence in summer and fivepence in winter. About the same pay, three shillings a week, is still paid in some parts of the Highlands and Western islands. Across most of the Low country, the usual wage for common labor is now eight pence a day. It is tenpence, sometimes a shilling, around Edinburgh; in counties bordering England, probably because they are close to England; and in a few other places where demand for labor has recently risen considerably, around Glasgow, Carron, Ayrshire, etc. Agriculture, manufacturing, and commerce began improving much earlier in England than in Scotland. As they improved, demand for labor and its price must have risen. So wages were higher in England than Scotland both last century and this century. They have also risen considerably since last century. But wages vary more from place to place in England, making it harder to tell how much they have risen. In 1614, a foot soldier received eightpence a day, the same as now. When this pay was first set, it would naturally have followed the usual wages of common laborers, the group from which foot soldiers commonly came. Lord-chief-justice Hales, writing under Charles II, estimated that a laborer's family of six needed ten shillings a week, or twenty-six pounds a year. He counted a father, a mother, two children old enough to do some work, and two too young to do any. If their work could not earn that sum, he supposed they would have to make up the difference by begging or stealing. He appears to have researched 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 Dr Davenant praised so highly, estimated the ordinary income of laborers and out-servants at fifteen pounds a year per family. He assumed that a family averaged three and a half people. Despite looking different, his estimate is very close to Judge Hales's. Both put these families' weekly expenses at about twenty-pence per person. Across most of the kingdom, both their money income and their expenses have risen considerably since then. They have risen more in some places than in others, though perhaps nowhere as much as some recent exaggerated reports of current wages have suggested. We should note that the price of labor cannot be measured very precisely anywhere. Even in one place, the same kind of work often commands different rates. These depend both on workers' abilities and on whether employers are easy or hard to deal with. Where law does not set wages, we can only identify the most usual rate. Experience seems to show that law cannot set wages properly, though it has often claimed to do so.
The real reward for labor—the amount of life's necessities and comforts it can buy—may have risen by even more this century than wages measured in money. Grain has become somewhat cheaper. Many other foods that give industrious poor people a pleasant, healthy variety have become much cheaper. In most of the kingdom, for example, potatoes now cost less than half what they cost thirty or forty years ago. The same is true of turnips, carrots, and cabbages. Farmers once grew these only with spades, but now commonly grow them with plows. All kinds of garden produce have become cheaper too. In the last century, most of the apples, and even the onions, eaten in Great Britain were imported from Flanders. Major improvements in making coarse linen and woolen cloth give workers better, cheaper clothes. Improvements in working common metals give them better, cheaper tools and many useful and pleasant household items. Soap, salt, candles, leather, and fermented drinks have indeed become considerably more expensive, mainly because of taxes on them. But working people need so little of these goods that their higher prices do not offset the lower prices of so many other things. People often complain that luxury has reached even the lowest ranks. They say working people now refuse to settle for the food, clothing, and housing that once satisfied them. That complaint may convince us that not only money wages but the real reward for work has risen.
Should we see the better circumstances of people in the lower ranks as a benefit to society or a disadvantage? At first the answer seems perfectly clear. Servants, laborers, and other workers make up by far the largest part of any large society. What improves life for most people cannot be a disadvantage to society as a whole. Surely no society can prosper and be happy if the great majority of its members are poor and miserable. It is also only fair that those who feed, clothe, and house everyone should receive enough of what their own work produces to be reasonably well fed, clothed, and housed themselves.
Poverty certainly discourages marriage, but it does not always prevent it. It even seems to encourage childbearing. A half-starved Highland woman often bears more than twenty children, while a pampered fashionable lady often cannot bear any, and is usually exhausted after two or three. Infertility is common among fashionable women but very rare among women of lower status. Luxury among women may increase the desire for pleasure, but it seems always to weaken their ability to have children, and often to destroy it entirely.
But although poverty does not prevent children from being born, it makes raising them extremely difficult. A tender plant grows, but quickly withers and dies in such poor soil and harsh weather. I have often been told that in the Scottish Highlands a mother may bear twenty children and not have two survive. Several experienced officers have assured me that the children born to soldiers in their regiment could not even supply enough boys to serve as its drummers and fifers, let alone provide recruits. Yet one seldom sees more fine children than around a soldiers' barracks. Apparently very few reach thirteen or fourteen. In some places half of all children die before age four; in many places, before seven; and in almost all places, before nine or ten. Most of these deaths occur among ordinary people's children. Their families cannot afford to care for them as well as better-off families can. Though ordinary people's marriages generally produce more children than fashionable people's, a smaller share reach adulthood. Death rates are even higher in foundling hospitals and among children raised with parish charity than among ordinary people's children.
Every animal species naturally multiplies according to the food available to it. No species can grow beyond that supply. But in civilized society, only among people of the lower ranks can a lack of subsistence limit human population growth. It can do this only by killing many of the children born to their large families.
Generous wages allow workers to care better for their children and raise more of them. This naturally pushes those limits outward. It is also worth noting that it does so almost exactly in proportion to the demand for labor. If demand keeps growing, wages must encourage workers to marry and have enough children to supply a growing population for that growing demand. If wages ever fell below what was needed, a shortage of workers would soon raise them. If wages rose above it, the resulting excess population would soon bring them back down to the necessary level. Too few workers in the market in one case, or too many in the other, would soon force wages back to the level society's circumstances required. In this way, demand for people, like demand for any other commodity, regulates how many are produced. It speeds up population growth when it is too slow and stops it when it is too fast. That demand determines population growth in every country: rapid growth in North America, slow and gradual growth in Europe, and no growth at all in China.
People have said that an owner pays the cost of a slave's wear and tear, while a free servant pays for his own. In reality, an employer pays for the free servant's wear and tear just as much as an owner pays for a slave's. Wages paid to hired skilled workers and servants of every kind must, on average, let them maintain a new generation of such workers and servants. The number must meet society's demand, whether that demand is growing, shrinking, or steady. But although an employer pays for both, maintaining a free servant generally costs much less than maintaining a slave. The resources set aside to replace or repair a slave's wear and tear, so to speak, are usually managed by a negligent owner or careless overseer. The free worker manages the resources for his own upkeep. The wasteful habits common in rich households naturally affect the first kind of management. The strict thrift and careful saving of poor people naturally govern the second. Under such different management, the same result requires very different spending. Experience across ages and nations seems to show that work done by free people ultimately costs less than work done by slaves. This holds even in Boston, New-York, and Philadelphia, where wages for common labor are very high.
Generous wages are therefore an effect of growing wealth and a cause of growing population. To complain about them is to regret both a necessary cause and a necessary effect of the greatest public prosperity.
Perhaps it is worth noting that working people—the great majority—seem happiest and most comfortable while society is growing richer, not after it has reached its full wealth. Their condition is difficult when growth stops and miserable when wealth declines. Growth is the cheerful, vigorous condition for every rank of society; a standstill is dull, and decline is gloomy.
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
Generous wages encourage ordinary people to have children, and they also encourage them to work harder. Wages motivate industry. Like any other human quality, industry grows when it is encouraged. Plenty to eat makes a worker physically stronger. The hopeful prospect of improving his life, and perhaps spending his last years in comfort and plenty, drives him to use that strength fully. Where wages are high, workers are therefore more active, diligent, and quick than where wages are low. This is true in England compared with Scotland, for example, and near large towns compared with remote rural areas. Some workers do indeed take the other three days off if four days' earnings can support them all week. But most do not. On the contrary, workers paid generously by the piece often work so hard that they ruin their health and physical condition in a few years. A carpenter in London, and in some other places, is not expected to retain his full strength for more than eight years. Much the same happens in many other trades that pay by the piece. This is common in manufacturing and even in farm work where wages are unusually high. Almost every group of skilled workers suffers from some illness caused by working too hard at its particular trade. Ramuzzini, a distinguished Italian doctor, has written a book specifically about these diseases. We do not think of our soldiers as especially hardworking people. Yet when soldiers have been hired for certain kinds of work and paid well by the piece, their officers have often had to make the contractor agree to limit what they could earn each day at the agreed rate. Before that agreement, competition among the soldiers and the wish to earn more often made them overwork and harm their health. Overworking for four days is often the real reason for the other three days of idleness that people complain of so loudly. After several days of sustained hard mental or physical work, most people naturally have a strong urge to relax. Unless force or great need holds them back, they can hardly resist it. Their bodies demand a break, sometimes merely rest and sometimes amusement and diversion too. If they ignore this need, the effects are often dangerous and sometimes fatal. Sooner or later, such overwork almost always brings on an illness peculiar to their trade. If employers always listened to reason and humanity, they would often need to restrain many of their workers rather than urge them on. In every trade, I believe, the person who works at a moderate pace that he can keep up not only stays healthy longest but also gets the most work done over a year.
People claim that workers are usually lazier in years when food is cheap, and more industrious than usual when food is expensive. They conclude that abundant food weakens industry, while scarce food strengthens it. A little extra abundance may certainly make some workers idle. But it seems unlikely to have that effect on most workers. Nor does it seem likely that people generally work better when they are poorly fed rather than well fed, discouraged rather than hopeful, or often ill rather than generally healthy. Years when food is scarce are usually years of illness and death among ordinary people. That must reduce the amount of work they do.
In years of abundance, servants often leave their employers and try to live on what they earn working independently. But cheap food also increases the resources employers have to support servants. This encourages them, especially farmers, to hire more. On these occasions farmers expect to profit more by using their grain to support a few more hired farmworkers than by selling it cheaply at market. Demand for servants rises while the number willing to serve falls. Wages therefore often rise when food is cheap.
In years of scarcity, the difficulty and uncertainty of making a living make those people eager to go back into service. But expensive food reduces the resources employers have to maintain servants. They are therefore inclined to employ fewer, not more. In such years, poor independent workers also often use up the little stock they had used to buy materials for their work. To survive, they must become hired workers. More people seek jobs than can readily get them. Many will accept lower pay than usual, and the wages of both servants and hired workers often fall when food is expensive.
Employers of every kind therefore often get better terms from their servants in expensive years than in cheap years. They find servants more submissive and dependent, and naturally praise expensive years as better for industry. Landlords and farmers, two of the largest groups of employers, have another reason to welcome those years. The landlords' rents and farmers' profits depend heavily on food prices. Yet nothing is more absurd than to suppose people generally work less hard for themselves than for someone else. A poor independent worker will usually work harder even than a hired worker paid by the piece. The independent worker keeps everything his work produces; the hired worker shares it with his employer. Working separately and independently also makes the first less vulnerable to bad company, which so often corrupts workers' behavior in large factories. His advantage is likely even greater over servants hired by the month or year, who receive the same wages and upkeep whether they work much or little. Cheap years tend to increase the share of independent workers relative to hired workers and servants of every kind. Expensive years tend to reduce it.
A knowledgeable and resourceful French writer, Mr Messance, receiver of the tallies in the election of St Etienne, tries to show that poor people work more in cheap years than in expensive ones. He compares the quantity and value of goods made in three industries in those years. One makes coarse woolens at Elbeuf. The other two make linen and silk throughout the whole generality of Rouen. His figures, copied from public-office registers, show that all three industries generally produced more goods, both in quantity and value, when food was cheap than when it was expensive. Their output was always greatest in the cheapest years and smallest in the most expensive. All three industries seem to be steady overall: output changes somewhat from year to year, but they are neither growing nor shrinking.
Linen making in Scotland and coarse woolen making in the West Riding of Yorkshire are growing industries. Despite fluctuations, their output generally rises in both quantity and value. I have looked at published accounts of their annual output, however, and cannot see any clear relationship between its changes and cheap or expensive food. Both industries did decline considerably in 1740, a year of severe scarcity. But in 1756, another year of severe scarcity, Scottish manufacturing grew faster than usual. Yorkshire manufacturing did decline. Its output did not return to its 1755 level until 1766, after the American stamp act was repealed. In 1766 and the following year it rose far beyond any previous level, and it has continued growing ever since.
The output of large industries that sell to distant markets depends less on whether food is cheap or expensive where the goods are made than on conditions affecting demand where they are used. Those conditions include peace or war, the success or decline of competing industries, and whether their main customers are willing to buy. Besides, much of the extra work probably done in cheap years never appears in public manufacturing registers. Male servants who leave their employers become independent workers. Women return to their parents and commonly spin to make clothes for themselves and their families. Even independent workers do not always make things for public sale. Some make household goods for their neighbors. Their output often does not appear in public registers. Those records are sometimes published with great fanfare, and merchants and manufacturers often claim, without good reason, that they can use them to announce the prosperity or decline of great empires.
Changes in wages often do not match changes in food prices. They are often in the opposite direction. But that does not mean food prices have no effect on wages. Money wages necessarily depend on two things: demand for labor and the prices of life's necessities and comforts. Demand for labor determines how much of these goods workers must receive. It does so according to whether demand, and the population needed to meet it, is growing, steady, or declining. Money wages then depend on what it costs to buy that amount. So when food is cheap, money wages may be high. But with the same demand for labor, they would be even higher if food were expensive.
When an unexpectedly abundant harvest raises demand for labor, and an unexpectedly scarce one lowers it, money wages sometimes rise in the abundant year and fall in the scarce one.
In a year of sudden, unusual abundance, many employers have enough resources to support and hire more workers than they hired the year before. But they cannot always find all those extra workers. Employers who need more workers then bid against each other for them. This sometimes raises both the real and money wages paid for labor.
The reverse happens in a year of sudden, unusual scarcity. Employers have fewer resources for hiring workers than in the previous year. Many people lose their jobs and compete with one another for work. This sometimes lowers both real and money wages. In 1740, a year of unusual scarcity, many people were willing to work for food alone. In the plentiful years that followed, finding laborers and servants was harder. Scarcity in an expensive year reduces demand for labor and tends to lower wages, while high food prices tend to raise them. Abundance in a cheap year raises demand and tends to raise wages, while cheap food tends to lower them. With ordinary changes in food prices, these opposite forces seem to offset each other. This is probably part of the reason wages everywhere are much steadier than food prices.
Higher wages necessarily raise the prices of many goods by increasing the share of their price that pays wages. To that extent, higher wages tend to reduce purchases of these goods both at home and abroad. Yet the same thing that raises wages—an increase in stock—also tends to make labor more productive. It allows a smaller amount of labor to do more work. Someone whose stock employs many workers has an interest in dividing up and assigning their tasks so they produce as much as possible. For the same reason, the owner tries to give them the best machines that either the owner or the workers can devise. What happens among the workers in one workshop also happens throughout a large society. As their numbers increase, they naturally divide into more specialized occupations and subgroups. More minds work on inventing the best machinery for each task, so such machinery is more likely to be invented. These improvements mean that many goods take so much less labor to produce than before that the smaller amount of labor more than offsets its higher 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
Profits on stock rise and fall for the same reasons that wages rise and fall: society's wealth grows or declines. But these changes affect profits and wages very differently.
An increase in stock raises wages but tends to lower profit. When many wealthy merchants put their stock into the same trade, they compete and naturally drive down its profit. When stock increases similarly in every trade in a society, competition has the same effect on profits in all of them.
As already noted, even in one place at one time, average wages are hard to determine. Usually we can say no more than what wages are most common. It is rarely possible to say even that much about profits on stock. Profit changes so much that someone running a business cannot always tell you its average annual profit. Profit depends not only on every price change in the goods he trades, but also on the luck of his competitors and customers. It is affected by countless mishaps that can befall goods at sea, on land, or even in a warehouse. So profit changes not only from year to year but from day to day, and almost hour to hour. Finding the average profit for every trade across a large kingdom must be much harder. Accurately estimating profits long ago, or in distant periods, must be impossible.
Still, although we cannot precisely measure average profits on stock now or in the past, interest rates can give us some idea. We can take this as a rule: where people can earn a lot by using money, they will generally pay a lot to borrow it. Where they can earn little, they will generally pay less. So when the usual market interest rate changes in a country, ordinary profits on stock must change with it. Profits must fall when interest falls and rise when it rises. The course of interest rates can therefore tell us something about the course of profits.
By the 37th of Henry VIII, interest above ten per cent. was made illegal. Apparently lenders had sometimes charged more before then. Under Edward VI, religious zeal banned all interest. But like other such bans, this one reportedly had no effect, and probably increased rather than reduced the evil of usury. The law of Henry VIII was restored by the 13th of Elizabeth, cap. 8. Ten per cent. remained the legal rate until the 21st of James I, when the limit fell to eight per cent. It dropped to six per cent. soon after the Restoration, and to five per cent. by the 12th of Queen Anne. All these legal changes seem to have been sensible. They appear to have followed, not preceded, the market interest rate at which trustworthy people normally borrowed. Since Queen Anne's time, five per cent. seems to have been a little above the market rate, not below it. Before the late war, the government borrowed at three per cent. In the capital and many other places, trustworthy private borrowers paid three and a-half, four, or four and a-half per cent.
Since Henry VIII's time, the country's wealth and revenue have steadily grown. Growth seems gradually to have sped up rather than slowed down. Wealth and revenue have not merely kept growing; they have grown faster and faster. Wages have steadily risen over the same period, while profits on stock have fallen in most branches of trade and manufacturing.
Running almost any trade in a large town generally requires more stock than running it in a rural village. Large amounts of stock invested in each trade, and many wealthy competitors, generally keep town profits below village profits. But wages are generally higher in a large town than a rural village. In a thriving town, people with large amounts of stock to put to work often cannot find enough workers. They bid against each other to hire as many as they can. This raises wages and lowers profits on stock. In remote rural areas, there is often too little stock to employ everyone. People then compete for jobs, which lowers wages and raises profits on stock.
In Scotland, the legal interest rate is the same as in England, but the market rate is somewhat higher. Even the most trustworthy borrowers there rarely pay less than five per cent. Private bankers in Edinburgh even pay four per cent. on their promissory notes, which can be redeemed, in whole or in part, whenever the holder wishes. Private bankers in London pay no interest on deposits. Few trades require as much stock to operate in Scotland as in England. The usual profit rate must therefore be somewhat higher. As already noted, wages are lower in Scotland than in England. Scotland is also much poorer. Though it is plainly improving, its progress seems much slower. In France, the legal rate of interest has not always followed the market rate during this century [See Denisart, Article Taux des Interests, tom. iii, p.13]. In 1720, it fell from the twentieth to the fiftieth penny, or from five to two per cent. In 1724, it rose 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 Mr Laverdy, it fell to the twenty-fifth penny, or to four per cent. The Abbé Terray later raised it to the old five per cent. rate. Many of these sharp interest-rate cuts were supposedly intended to prepare for cuts to the interest on public debts. Sometimes that aim was achieved. France may not now be as rich as England. Though its legal interest rate has often been lower than England's, its market rate has generally been higher. In France, as elsewhere, there are several safe and easy ways around the law. British merchants who have traded in both countries have told me that trading profits are higher in France than in England. That must be why many British people choose to employ their capitals in a country where trade is looked down on rather than one where it is highly respected. Wages are lower in France than in England. When you travel from Scotland to England, the difference in ordinary people's clothes and appearance makes their different circumstances clear. Returning from France, you see a still greater contrast. France is no doubt richer than Scotland, but seems to be improving less quickly. Many people in France even believe it is declining. I think that belief is mistaken, even for France. No one who has seen Scotland both now and twenty or thirty years ago could possibly believe it of Scotland.
The province of Holland, by contrast, is richer than England relative to its area and population. Its government borrows at two per cent., and trustworthy private borrowers at three. Wages are said to be higher in Holland than England. As everyone knows, the Dutch trade at lower profits than anyone else in Europe. Some say Dutch trade is declining. Some branches may indeed be declining, but these signs strongly suggest that trade is not declining overall. When profits fall, merchants often complain that trade is shrinking. Yet lower profits are a natural effect of flourishing trade, when more stock than before has been invested in it. During the late war, the Dutch took over all France's carrying trade and still retain a very large share. They own large holdings in both French and English funds. Their holdings in the latter are said to be about forty millions, though I suspect this figure is considerably exaggerated. They also lend large sums to private people in countries with higher interest rates than their own. All this certainly shows they have more stock than they can invest at an acceptable profit in their own country's normal business. It does not show that this business has shrunk. A person's capital may grow beyond what can be used in the trade that created it, even while that trade keeps growing. The same can happen to a great nation's capital.
In our North American and West Indian colonies, wages, interest rates, and therefore profits on stock are all higher than in England. In the different colonies, both legal and market interest rates range from six to eight percent. High wages and high profits, however, perhaps almost never occur together except under the special conditions of new colonies. For a while a new colony must have too little stock for its land area, and too few people for its stock, compared with most other countries. Colonists have more land than they have stock to cultivate it. They therefore use that stock only on the most fertile, best-placed land, near the seashore and along navigable rivers. Such land is also often bought for less than even its natural produce is worth. Stock invested in buying and improving this land must earn a very high profit. It can therefore pay very high interest. In such a profitable use, stock grows quickly. A planter can then increase his need for workers faster than he can find them in a new settlement. He therefore pays the workers he does find very well. As the colony grows, profits on stock gradually fall. Once all the best-placed and most fertile land is taken, cultivating poorer and less conveniently located land brings smaller profits. Less interest can then be paid on stock invested in it. In most of our colonies, both the legal and market interest rates have accordingly fallen considerably over this century. As wealth, improvement, and population have grown, interest has declined. Wages do not fall along with profits on stock. Demand for labor grows as stock grows, whatever profit it brings. Even after profits fall, stock may continue to grow, and may grow much faster than before. The same is true of hardworking people and hardworking nations that are becoming richer. A large stock earning small profits generally grows faster than a small stock earning large profits. Money makes money, as the saying goes. Once you have a little, it is often easy to get more. Getting that first little bit is the hard part. I have already explained part of the connection between growing stock and growing industry, or demand for useful labor. I will explain it more fully later when discussing 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
Gaining new territory or new kinds of trade can sometimes raise the profits on stock and the interest paid on loans, even in a country that is rapidly growing richer. The country's stock is not enough to cover all the new business these gains offer its owners. So they put it into the activities that pay best. They have to take some stock out of older trades and move it into newer, more profitable ones. Competition in those older trades then decreases. The market receives fewer goods of many kinds. Their prices rise to some extent, increasing the dealers' profits and allowing them to pay higher interest on loans. For some time after the recent war ended, even private borrowers with the best credit and some of London's largest companies commonly borrowed at five per cent. Before the war, they had usually paid no more than four, or four and a half per cent. The large additions of territory and trade gained in North America and the West Indies explain this without assuming that society's capital stock had fallen. Carrying on so much new business with the old stock must have reduced the amount used in many existing trades. Less competition there meant higher profits. Later I will explain why I believe that even the enormous expense of the recent war did not reduce Great Britain's capital stock.
A fall in society's capital stock, or the funds available to support industry, does, however, lower wages while raising profits on stock and therefore interest rates. Lower wages let the owners of the remaining stock bring goods to market more cheaply. With less stock used to supply the market, they can also sell those goods for more. Their costs fall and their selling prices rise. With profits growing on both sides, they can afford to pay high interest. The large fortunes made so quickly and easily in Bengal and the other British settlements in the East Indies show that wages are very low and profits on stock very high in those ruined countries. Interest is correspondingly high. In Bengal, farmers often borrow at forty, fifty, and sixty per cent. and pledge the next crop to repay the loan. Profits large enough to pay such interest must consume nearly all the landlord's rent. Such enormous interest, in turn, must consume most of those profits. Before the Roman republic fell, similar lending at high interest seems to have been common in its provinces under the destructive rule of their proconsuls. As Cicero's letters tell us, the virtuous Brutus lent money in Cyprus at eight-and-forty per cent.
Suppose a country had become as rich as its soil, climate, and position relative to other countries allowed. It could grow no richer but was not becoming poorer. Both wages and profits on stock would probably be very low. Its population would already be as large as its land could support or its stock could employ. Competition for jobs would then drive wages down to the bare amount needed to maintain the number of workers, and the population could not grow further. The country would also have as much stock as all its business could use. Each activity would employ as much stock as its size and nature allowed. Competition would therefore be as intense as possible everywhere, and normal profits as low as possible.
Perhaps no country has ever reached that degree of wealth. China seems to have stopped growing long ago. It probably reached, long ago, the maximum wealth possible under its laws and institutions. But different laws and institutions might allow its soil, climate, and location to support much more wealth. A country that neglects or looks down on foreign commerce and admits foreign ships to only one or two ports cannot do as much business as it could under different rules. Moreover, in a country where the rich and those with large amounts of capital enjoy considerable security, while poor people and owners of small amounts of capital enjoy almost none, less stock is put to use than the available business could support. Lower-ranking mandarins can rob the poor at any time under the pretense of enforcing justice. In each kind of business, this oppression gives rich people a monopoly. They take over the entire trade and can make very large profits. Accordingly, the usual interest rate in China is said to be twelve per cent. Normal profits on stock must be high enough to pay that rate.
A flaw in the law can sometimes push interest rates far above the level that the country's wealth or poverty would otherwise produce. If the law does not enforce contracts, it makes nearly every borrower as risky as a bankrupt or a borrower with doubtful credit in a country with better laws. Uncertain of getting his money back, a lender demands the same very high interest usually charged to bankrupts. For many centuries among the peoples who overran the western provinces of the Roman empire, keeping a contract depended on the promises of the parties who made it. The kings' courts rarely got involved. This may partly explain the high interest rates of those times.
When the law bans interest entirely, people still charge it. Many people need to borrow, and no one will lend without payment for the use of the money. That payment must cover both what the lender could earn with the money and the trouble and danger of evading the law. M. Montesquieu explains the high interest rates among all Mahometan nations partly by this ban and partly by the difficulty of recovering loans, rather than by poverty.
The lowest normal profit rate must exceed the amount needed to cover the occasional losses faced in every use of stock. Only the excess is net, or clear, profit. What people call gross profit often includes both that excess and money set aside to cover such losses. A borrower can afford to pay interest only out of clear profit. Likewise, the lowest normal interest rate must exceed the amount needed to cover the occasional losses that even reasonably careful lenders face. Otherwise, people would lend only from charity or friendship.
In a country that had reached its maximum wealth, every activity would already use as much stock as it could. Normal clear profit would be very small. The market interest rate that could be paid from it would be so low that only the very wealthiest could live on interest from their money. People with small or middling fortunes would have to manage the use of their own stock themselves. Almost everyone would have to do business or engage in some trade. The province of Holland seems close to this state. There it is unfashionable not to be in business. Necessity makes nearly everyone engage in it, and custom sets fashion everywhere. Not dressing like other people looks ridiculous; to some extent, so does not working like them. A person in a civilian profession looks out of place in a camp or garrison and may even be looked down on there. An idle person looks equally out of place among businesspeople.
The highest normal profit rate might, in the price of most goods, consume everything that ought to go toward land rent. It would leave only enough to pay the workers who prepare the goods and bring them to market, at the lowest possible wage: their bare subsistence. A worker must somehow be fed while doing the work, but the landlord need not always be paid. The profits from the trade carried on in Bengal by servants of the East India Company may be close to this level.
The relationship between the usual market interest rate and the normal rate of clear profit must change as profits rise or fall. In Great Britain, merchants consider profit at twice the interest rate to be good, moderate, and reasonable. I take those words to mean simply ordinary profit. Where normal clear profit is eight or ten per cent., it may be reasonable to pay half of it as interest when business is financed by borrowing. The borrower bears the risk to the stock, effectively insuring it for the lender. In most trades, the remaining four or five per cent. may adequately reward both that risk and the work of putting the stock to use. But the relationship between interest and clear profit might differ where normal profits were much lower or much higher. If they were much lower, perhaps a borrower could not afford to pay half in interest. If they were much higher, a borrower might afford to pay more than half.
In countries growing rich quickly, low profits may offset high wages in the price of many goods. Those countries can then sell as cheaply as less successful neighbors where wages are lower.
In fact, high profits tend to raise the price of manufactured goods much more than high wages do. Take linen making. Suppose the wages of the flax-dressers, spinners, weavers, etc. all rose by twopence a-day. The price of a piece of linen would need to rise only by twopence for each worker involved, multiplied by the number of days each worked. Through every stage of production, the wage portion of the price would grow in arithmetical proportion to the wage increase. But suppose every employer of these workers raised profits by five per cent. Through each stage, the profit portion of the price would grow in geometrical proportion to the profit increase. When selling his flax, the employer of the flax dressers would require another five per cent. on the full cost of materials and wages he had advanced. The spinners' employer would require another five per cent. on both the increased price of the flax and the spinners' wages. The weavers' employer would likewise require five per cent. on both the increased price of the linen-yarn and the weavers' wages. A wage increase affects goods prices as simple interest affects a growing debt. A profit increase acts like compound interest. Our merchants and master manufacturers often complain that high wages raise prices and reduce sales at home and abroad. They say nothing about the harmful effects of high profits. They stay silent about the harm caused by their own gains and complain only about other people's gains.
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 USES OF LABOR AND STOCK.
Within the same area, the overall advantages and disadvantages of different kinds of work and different uses of stock must either be equal or always move toward equality. If one occupation in that area were clearly better than the others, people would flock to it. If it were clearly worse, people would leave it. Either way, its advantages would soon move back toward those of other occupations. At least this would happen in a society where things followed their natural course, everyone had complete freedom, and each person could choose and change occupations whenever he wished. Each person's own interest would lead him toward the more rewarding work and away from the less rewarding work.
Money wages and profits do differ greatly across occupations throughout Europe. Part of the difference comes from features of the work itself. These features, in reality or in people's minds, make up for lower money earnings in some occupations or offset higher earnings in others. Another part comes from European policy, which nowhere allows complete freedom.
I will examine those features and that policy in the two parts of this Chapter.
PART I. Differences arising from the nature of the work itself.
As far as I can tell, five main features make up for low money earnings in some occupations and offset high earnings in others. First is whether the work is pleasant or unpleasant. Second is how easy and cheap, or difficult and expensive, it is to learn. Third is whether employment is steady or irregular. Fourth is how much trust the workers must be given. Fifth is how likely they are to succeed.
First, wages vary according to whether work is easy or hard, clean or dirty, respected or disrespected. In most places, over a whole year, a journeyman tailor earns less than a journeyman weaver because tailoring is much easier. A journeyman weaver earns less than a journeyman smith. Weaving is not always easier, but it is much cleaner. A journeyman blacksmith is a skilled craft worker, yet in twelve hours he seldom earns as much as a coal miner, an ordinary laborer, earns in eight. Smithing is not quite as dirty or as dangerous, and it takes place above ground in daylight. The respect attached to respected professions forms a large part of their reward. Measured in money, and considering everything, they are generally underpaid, as I will show shortly. Disgrace has the opposite effect. Butchering is rough and widely disliked, but in most places it pays better than most ordinary trades. Public execution, the most hated occupation of all, pays better for the amount of work done than any ordinary trade.
In early societies, hunting and fishing are among humanity's most important occupations. In advanced societies, they become some of its most pleasant pastimes. People then do for pleasure what they once did out of necessity. So those who do for a living what others do for fun are all very poor in an advanced society. Fishermen have been poor since the time of Theocritus. [See Idyllium xxi.]. A poacher is a very poor man everywhere in Great Britain. Where the law strictly prevents poaching, a licensed hunter is not much better off. So many people enjoy these occupations that more pursue them than can live comfortably by them. As a result, the products they bring to market sell too cheaply, relative to the quantity produced, to give the workers more than a very meager living.
Unpleasant work and social disgrace affect profits on stock as they affect wages. An innkeeper or tavern keeper is never free to enjoy his own house and must put up with the abuse of every drunkard. His business is neither pleasant nor respected. Yet there are hardly any ordinary trades in which a small stock produces such a large profit.
Second, wages vary according to how easy and cheap, or difficult and expensive, it is to learn the work.
Anyone who builds an expensive machine expects it to do enough extra work before wearing out to repay its cost and produce at least normal profits. Someone who spends much time and effort learning an occupation that takes special skill can be compared to that machine. The work he learns must pay him enough beyond ordinary wages to recover his entire training cost and earn at least normal profits on an equally valuable amount of capital. He must recover it in a reasonable time, too, because a human life has a less predictable length than a machine's working life.
This is the reason skilled workers receive different wages from ordinary workers.
European policy regards the work of all mechanics, craft workers, and manufacturing workers as skilled, and the work of all farm laborers as ordinary. It seems to assume that the first group's work calls for more delicate skill. Sometimes it does, but usually the opposite is true, as I will show shortly. European laws and customs nevertheless require an apprenticeship to qualify someone for the first kind of work. Requirements are stricter in some places than in others. They leave farm work open to everyone. During an apprenticeship, all the apprentice's work belongs to his master. In many cases his parents or relatives must support him, and in almost all cases they must supply his clothing. They also commonly pay the master to teach him the trade. Those who cannot pay money pay with time by committing to more than the usual number of years. The extra time does not always benefit the master because apprentices are often idle, but it always harms the apprentice. A farm laborer, by contrast, learns the difficult parts of his work while doing the easier parts. His own labor supports him at every stage of his training. It is therefore reasonable for mechanics, craft workers, and manufacturing workers in Europe to earn somewhat more than ordinary laborers. They do, and their higher earnings make people in most places see them as a higher rank. But the advantage is usually very small. In common kinds of manufacturing, including plain linen and woolen cloth, the average daily or weekly earnings of journeymen in most places are only slightly above an ordinary laborer's daily wage. Their work is steadier, though, so over a whole year the gap may be somewhat larger. Even so, it seems no larger than needed to repay their greater training costs. Training in the fine arts and the liberal professions takes still longer and costs more. Painters, sculptors, lawyers, and physicians should therefore receive much higher money rewards, and they do.
The difficulty of learning a trade seems to have little effect on the profits earned from stock invested in it. In large towns, the various common uses of stock are, in practice, nearly equally easy or difficult to learn. One kind of foreign or domestic trade can hardly be much more complicated than another.
Third, wages vary according to whether work is steady or irregular.
Some trades offer much steadier work than others. A journeyman in most kinds of manufacturing can be fairly sure of working nearly every day he is able to work. A mason or bricklayer, by contrast, cannot work during a hard frost or bad weather. Even in good weather, he depends on whether customers need him. He is therefore often out of work. His earnings while working must support him through periods without work. They must also make up for the anxiety and despair that such uncertainty sometimes brings. So where most manufacturing workers earn about as much as ordinary laborers per day, masons and bricklayers generally earn from one-half more to double that wage. Where ordinary laborers earn four or five shillings a-week, masons and bricklayers often earn seven and eight. Where the first earn six, the others often earn nine and ten. And where the first earn nine and ten, as in London, the others commonly earn fifteen and eighteen. Yet no skilled trade seems easier to learn than masonry or bricklaying. In London, chairmen are said sometimes to work as bricklayers in summer. These workers' higher wages pay less for skill than for uncertain employment.
House carpentry seems to require somewhat more skill and care than masonry. In most places, though not everywhere, a carpenter earns a somewhat lower daily wage. His work depends heavily on customers' occasional demands, but not as completely as a mason's does, and the weather does not interrupt it.
When a usually steady trade offers irregular employment in a particular place, its workers' wages rise well above their usual level relative to ordinary laborers' wages. In London, masters hire and dismiss almost all journeyman craft workers from one day or week to the next, much like day laborers elsewhere. Even journeyman tailors, the lowest-paid group of craft workers, therefore earn half-a-crown a-day, while eighteen pence can be taken as the wage of ordinary labor. In small towns and country villages, journeyman tailors often earn barely as much as ordinary laborers. In London, however, they often go many weeks without work, especially in summer.
When irregular work is also hard, unpleasant, and dirty, wages for the most ordinary labor sometimes rise above those of the most skilled craft workers. At Newcastle, a coal miner paid by the piece is thought normally to earn about twice the ordinary laborer's wage. In many parts of Scotland, he earns about three times as much. His higher wages arise entirely from how hard, unpleasant, and dirty his work is. He can usually work as regularly as he likes. London's coal unloaders do work almost as hard, dirty, and unpleasant as coal miners' work. Because coal ships arrive irregularly, most coal unloaders have highly irregular employment. If miners normally earn double or triple ordinary wages, it should not seem unreasonable that coal unloaders sometimes earn four or five times as much. An investigation of their circumstances a few years ago found that at their pay rates then, they could earn from six to ten shillings a-day. Six shillings is about four times the ordinary laborer's wage in London. In any trade, the lowest usual earnings can be taken as the earnings of most workers. These amounts may seem excessive. But if they more than made up for all the unpleasant features of the work, many more people would soon seek it. With no exclusive right to enter the trade, that competition would quickly lower wages.
Steady or irregular work cannot affect the normal profit on stock in a given trade. Whether stock is put to use steadily depends on the trader, not on the trade.
Fourth, wages vary according to the degree of trust workers must be given.
Goldsmiths and jewelers everywhere earn more than many workers who are equally skilled or much more skilled, because they handle valuable materials entrusted to them. We trust physicians with our health, and lawyers and attorneys with our fortunes and sometimes our lives and reputations. It would be unsafe to give such trust to people in a very low social position. Their pay must therefore be enough to give them the standing in society that this trust requires. Their long and costly training raises their pay still further.
When a trader uses only his own stock, no one entrusts stock to him. The credit others give him depends on what they think of his wealth, honesty, and good judgment, not on his type of trade. Differences in profit rates between trades therefore cannot come from differences in the trust placed in traders.
Fifth, wages vary according to how likely workers are to succeed in their chosen occupations.
The chance that a person will become qualified for the occupation he trains for differs greatly by occupation. In most crafts, success is almost certain. In the liberal professions, it is very uncertain. Apprentice your son to a shoemaker, and there is little doubt he will learn to make shoes. Send him to study law, and the odds are at least twenty to one against his learning enough to make a living from it. In a perfectly fair lottery, winners should receive everything lost by those who draw losing tickets. In a profession where twenty fail for each person who succeeds, that successful person should earn everything the other twenty would have earned. A lawyer who only begins earning money from his profession near the age of forty should receive a return on his own long and costly education and on that of more than twenty others who will probably never earn anything from it. However high lawyers' fees sometimes look, their actual reward never reaches that level. In a given place, compare the likely yearly income and expenses of all the workers in an ordinary trade, such as shoemaking or weaving. You will generally find that income exceeds expenses. Make the same comparison for all the lawyers and law students in all the Inns of Court. Their annual earnings are only a small fraction of their annual expenses, even if you estimate the earnings as high and the expenses as low as reasonably possible. The lottery of law is therefore far from fair. In money terms, law and many other respected liberal professions are plainly 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
Even so, these professions remain on a level with other occupations. Despite the disadvantages, the most ambitious and broad-minded people eagerly enter them. Two things make them appealing. First is the desire for the reputation that comes from outstanding achievement in them. Second is people's natural confidence, to a greater or lesser degree, in both their own abilities and their good luck.
To excel in a profession where few people even become competent is strong evidence of what people call genius, or exceptional talent. Public admiration of such ability is always part of its reward. The greater the admiration, the greater that reward. Admiration provides a considerable part of a physician's reward, perhaps a still greater part of a lawyer's, and almost the whole reward of a poet or philosopher.
Some talents are very pleasing and beautiful. People admire those who have them but consider using them for money, rightly or wrongly, a kind of public prostitution. People who earn a living from these talents must therefore receive enough money to pay not only for the time, work, and expense of developing them but also for the loss of respect that comes from using them to earn a living. The exceptionally high pay of actors, opera-singers, opera-dancers, etc. rests on two things: their talents are rare and beautiful, and using those talents for a living is disrespected. At first it seems absurd that we look down on these people yet pay so lavishly for their talents. But as long as we do the first, we must do the second. If public opinion or prejudice about these jobs ever changed, their pay would quickly fall. More people would enter the occupations, and competition would quickly bring down the price of their work. Such talents are uncommon but nowhere near as rare as people imagine. Many people possess them to a high degree but refuse to use them for money. Many more could develop them if doing so could bring them a respectable living.
Most people have an exaggerated opinion of their own abilities. Philosophers and moralists in every age have noted this old failing. They have paid less attention to people's unreasonable confidence in their own good luck, though it is even more widespread, if that is possible. Everyone in reasonably good health and spirits has some of it. Everyone overestimates the chance of gain to some degree. Most people underestimate the chance of loss, and almost no one in reasonably good health and spirits overestimates it.
The widespread success of lotteries shows that people naturally overestimate their chances of winning. There has never been, and never will be, a perfectly fair lottery in which total winnings equal total losses, because its operator would make no money. In state lotteries, tickets are worth less than their original buyers pay for them. Yet the tickets commonly resell for twenty, thirty, and sometimes forty per cent. more. This demand comes solely from the empty hope of winning a large prize. Even very sensible people hardly think it foolish to spend a little money for the chance of winning ten or twenty thousand pounds. They know that this small payment may still be twenty or thirty per cent. more than the chance is worth. If no prize in a lottery exceeded twenty pounds, people would want far fewer tickets, even if the lottery were much closer to fair than ordinary state lotteries. Some people buy several tickets to improve their chance of winning a large prize. Others buy small shares in an even larger number. Yet few mathematical truths are more certain than this: the more tickets you risk money on, the more likely you are to lose money. Buy every ticket and you are certain to lose; the more tickets you buy, the closer you get to that certainty.
The modest profits of insurers show that people often underestimate the chance of loss and almost never overestimate it. For insurance against fire or danger at sea to be a viable trade, its usual premium must cover ordinary losses and management costs. It must also provide the profit that an equal amount of capital could earn in an ordinary trade. Someone paying only that much pays just the real value of the risk: the lowest price at which he can reasonably expect to insure against it. Many people have made a little money from insurance, but very few have made a great fortune. That fact alone strongly suggests that the usual balance of profit and loss in insurance is no better than in other ordinary trades, where so many people do make fortunes. Yet even though premiums are usually moderate, many people dismiss the danger and refuse to pay them. Across the whole kingdom, nineteen houses in twenty, or perhaps ninety-nine in a hundred, lack fire insurance. Most people worry more about danger at sea, and a much larger proportion of ships are insured. Still, many ships sail uninsured in every season and even during war. Sometimes this may be sensible. A large company or even a large merchant with twenty or thirty ships at sea can, in effect, have the ships insure one another. The premiums saved on all of them may more than cover the losses likely to arise over time. In most cases, however, failing to insure ships, like failing to insure houses, is not the result of any such careful calculation. It comes from thoughtless recklessness and an overconfident disregard for danger.
People's disregard for danger and overconfident hopes of success are especially strong at the age when young people choose their occupations. Ordinary people's willingness to enlist in the army or go to sea shows even more clearly than wealthier people's eagerness to enter the liberal professions how little fear of misfortune can offset their hopes of good luck at that age.
It is easy to see what an ordinary soldier stands to lose. Even without considering the danger, though, young volunteers are never so willing to enlist as when a new war begins. They have almost no chance of promotion, yet their youthful imaginations picture countless opportunities for honor and distinction that never arise. Those unrealistic hopes are the full payment for risking their lives. Soldiers' pay is lower than ordinary laborers' pay, while active service involves much harder work.
Going to sea is not quite as bad a gamble as joining the army. A respectable laborer's or craft worker's son may often go to sea with his father's permission. If he becomes a soldier, he always does so without it. Others can see some chance that he will gain something as a sailor; only he sees any such chance as a soldier. The public admires a great admiral less than a great general, and the greatest success at sea brings less wealth and reputation than equal success on land. The same holds for every lower rank of promotion in the two services. Officially, a navy captain has the same rank as an army colonel, but people do not see him as his equal. Since the large prizes at sea are smaller, the smaller prizes must be more numerous. Ordinary sailors therefore gain some wealth and promotion more often than ordinary soldiers do. The hope of those rewards is what mainly draws them to the job. Their skill and ability greatly exceed those of almost any craft workers, and their entire lives are filled with hardship and danger. Yet while they remain ordinary sailors, they receive almost no reward for their skill and for those hardships and dangers beyond the pleasure of using their abilities and overcoming difficulties. Their wages are no higher than those of ordinary laborers in the port that sets the wage rate for sailors. Because sailors constantly travel between ports, the monthly pay of sailors leaving different ports in Great Britain varies less than the wages of any other workers across those places. The rate in the port used by the most sailors—London—sets the rate for the others. In London, most kinds of workers earn about twice what workers of the same kinds earn in Edinburgh. Sailors departing from London, however, seldom earn more than three or four shillings a month above sailors departing from Leith, and the gap is often smaller. In peacetime, in merchant shipping, the London rate runs from a guinea to about seven-and-twenty shillings the calendar month. At nine or ten shillings a week, an ordinary London laborer may earn from forty to five-and-forty shillings in a calendar month. Sailors do receive food in addition to their pay. But its value may not always exceed the gap between their pay and the laborer's pay. Even if it sometimes does, the excess is not a clear gain to a sailor: he cannot share the food with his wife and family, whom he must support at home out of his wages.
Danger and narrow escapes during an adventurous life often attract young people rather than put them off. A caring mother in the poorer ranks is often afraid to send her son to school in a seaport town. She fears that seeing ships and hearing sailors' stories of their adventures will tempt him to go to sea. The prospect of a distant danger from which we hope to escape through courage and skill does not repel us, so it does not raise wages in any occupation. The case is different when courage and skill cannot help. Wages are always especially high in trades known to be very unhealthy. Unhealthy work is one kind of unpleasant work, and its effect on wages belongs under that heading.
Across the different uses of stock, normal profit rates vary to some extent with how certain or uncertain the returns are. Returns are usually more certain in domestic than in foreign trade, and more certain in some foreign trades than in others. Trade with North America, for example, is more certain than trade with Jamaica. Normal profit tends to rise as risk rises, but it does not seem to rise enough to cover all the risk. Bankruptcies are most common in the riskiest trades. Smuggling is the riskiest trade of all. Though it can be the most profitable when an operation succeeds, it is a sure path to bankruptcy. Overconfident hopes of success attract so many people into these risky trades that their competition reduces profits below what is needed to make up for the risk. To cover the risk fully, normal returns would have to pay for all occasional losses and also give the traders an extra profit like the profit an insurer earns, in addition to normal profits on stock. If normal returns covered all that, bankruptcies would be no more common in these trades than in others.
So of the five factors that change wages, only two affect profits on stock: whether the business is pleasant or unpleasant and whether it is risky or secure. Most uses of stock differ little or not at all in how pleasant they are, while kinds of labor differ greatly. And although normal profits on stock rise with risk, they do not always rise enough to match it. It follows that, within the same society or area, average normal profits across different uses of stock should be more nearly equal than money wages across different kinds of labor.
That is what we find. The difference between an ordinary laborer's earnings and those of a busy lawyer or physician is clearly much greater than the difference in normal profits between any two kinds of trade. Besides, the apparent differences between trades' profits often result from confusing pay for work with profit on stock.
An apothecary's profit has become a common expression for an extraordinarily large profit. But what looks like a huge profit is often only fair pay for work. An apothecary needs more exact and delicate skills than any other craft worker, and people place far greater trust in him. He acts as a physician for poor people in every case, and for rich people when their illness or danger is not very serious. His reward should match his skill and the trust placed in him. He normally receives it through the price of the medicines he sells. But even the busiest apothecary in a large market town may pay no more than thirty or forty pounds for all the medicines he sells in a year. If he sells them for three or four hundred pounds, or at a thousand per cent. profit, that may often be only fair pay for his work, added to the price of his medicines because he has no other way to charge for it. Most of his apparent profit is really wages in disguise.
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 small grocer may make forty or fifty per cent. on stock worth a single hundred pounds. A substantial wholesale merchant in the same town may barely make eight or ten per cent. on stock worth ten thousand. Residents may need the grocer’s business, while the small market may not support a larger capital invested in it. But the grocer must earn a living suited to the skills his business demands. Besides owning a little capital, he must be able to read, write, and keep accounts. He must also know perhaps fifty or sixty kinds of goods reasonably well, including their prices, qualities, and where he can buy them most cheaply. In short, he needs all the knowledge of a major merchant. Only a lack of sufficient capital keeps him from becoming one. Thirty or forty pounds a year would not be too much to pay someone with all these skills for his labor. Subtract that amount from the apparently high profit on his capital, and perhaps little more than the ordinary profit on stock remains. Here too, most of the apparent profit is really wages.
The difference between the apparent profit of retail trade and that of wholesale trade is much smaller in the capital than in small towns and country villages. Where a grocer can use ten thousand pounds in the business, the grocer’s wages add very little to the real profit on such a large stock. So the wealthy retailer’s apparent profit is much closer to the wholesale merchant’s profit there. That is why retail goods are generally as cheap in the capital as in small towns and villages, and often much cheaper. Grocery goods, for example, are generally much cheaper; bread and butchers’ meat are often just as cheap. Bringing grocery goods to the big city costs no more than bringing them to a country village. Bringing in corn and cattle costs much more, though, since most must come from much farther away. The original cost of grocery goods is therefore the same in both places. They are cheapest where sellers charge the least profit. The original cost of bread and butchers’ meat is higher in the big city than in the village. Though the profit is smaller there, these foods are not always cheaper, but often cost the same. With goods such as bread and butchers’ meat, the same cause that reduces apparent profit raises the original cost. A larger market allows businesses to use greater stocks, which reduces apparent profit. But the market needs supplies from farther away, which raises the original cost. In most cases these two changes seem to nearly cancel each other out. That is probably why corn and cattle prices commonly vary greatly across the kingdom, while bread and butchers’ meat prices are generally much the same in most of it.
Profits on stock in both wholesale and retail trade are generally lower in the capital than in small towns and country villages. Yet people often build large fortunes from small beginnings in the capital and almost never do so in the smaller places. In a small town or village, the narrow market does not always allow a business to grow as its stock grows. A person there may earn a very high rate of profit, but the total profit can never be very large, and neither can the amount saved each year. In a big town, by contrast, a business can expand as its stock increases. A careful, successful person’s credit grows much faster than his stock. His business expands in proportion to both his stock and his credit. His total profit grows with his business, and his yearly savings grow with his profit. Even in big towns, though, a single regular, established, well-known line of business rarely produces a great fortune except after a long life of hard work, thrift, and close attention. What people call speculative trade does sometimes produce sudden fortunes there. A speculative merchant has no single regular, established, well-known line of business. One year he trades in corn, the next in wine, and the following year in sugar, tobacco, or tea. He enters a trade when he expects it to be unusually profitable and leaves when he expects its profits to return to the usual level. So his gains and losses have no fixed relation to those in any established line of business. A daring trader may make a substantial fortune from two or three successful speculations. He is just as likely to lose one through two or three failures. This trade can take place only in big towns. Only places with the widest commerce and business connections can provide the information it requires.
The five circumstances mentioned above cause considerable differences in wages of labor and profits of stock. But they do not cause differences in the total advantages and disadvantages, real or imagined, of the various ways of using either labor or stock. These circumstances make up for small financial gains in some occupations and offset large ones in others.
Even with complete freedom, three conditions must hold for these total advantages and disadvantages to be equal. First, the occupations must be well known and long established in the neighborhood. Second, they must be in their usual, or what we might call their natural, state. Third, they must be the sole or main occupations of the people doing them.
First, equality can exist only among occupations that are well known and have been established in the neighborhood for a long time.
Other things being equal, wages are generally higher in new trades than in old ones. Someone starting a new manufacture must first attract workers away from other jobs. He must offer higher wages than they can earn in their own trades, or than his work would otherwise call for. It takes a considerable time before he can risk lowering wages to the usual level. Manufactures demanded entirely because of fashion and taste keep changing. They rarely last long enough to count as long-established businesses. By contrast, manufactures demanded chiefly for their usefulness or necessity change less often. The same style or kind of fabric may remain in demand for whole centuries. Wages are therefore likely to be higher in the first kind than in the second. Birmingham deals chiefly in the first kind of manufacture, and Sheffield in the second. Wages in the two places are said to reflect this difference.
Starting a new manufacture, a new branch of commerce, or a new farming practice is always a speculation. Its founder expects unusually high profits. Sometimes those profits are very high; perhaps more often, they are nothing of the kind. In general, they have no consistent relation to profits in the neighborhood’s older trades. If the venture succeeds, its profits are usually very high at first. Once the trade or practice becomes well established and familiar, competition brings its profits down to the level of other trades.
Second, equality in the total advantages and disadvantages of different uses of labor and stock can exist only when those occupations are in their usual, or natural, state.
Demand for almost every kind of labor is sometimes higher and sometimes lower than usual. In the first case, the advantages of the job rise above the usual level; in the second, they fall below it. Demand for country labor is higher at haymaking and harvest than during most of the year, so wages rise. In wartime, when forty or fifty thousand sailors are forced from merchant ships into the king’s service, merchant ships must compete for the sailors left. Their wages commonly rise on such occasions from a guinea and seven-and-twenty shillings to forty shillings and three pounds a month. In a declining manufacture, on the other hand, many workers will accept lower wages than their work would otherwise justify rather than leave their trade.
Profits on stock change with the price of the goods in which that stock is invested. When a good’s price rises above its usual or average level, at least some of the stock used to bring it to market earns more than the usual profit. When its price falls, that profit falls below the usual level. All goods undergo some changes in price, but some change much more than others. For all goods made through human work, the amount of work used each year is necessarily adjusted to yearly demand. Producers aim to make the average yearly output as close as possible to average yearly consumption. As already noted, in some occupations the same amount of work always produces the same, or nearly the same, amount of goods. In linen or woolen manufacturing, for instance, the same number of workers can make nearly the same amount of linen and woolen cloth each year. Changes in the market price of these goods can therefore arise only from unexpected changes in demand. A period of public mourning raises the price of black cloth. But demand for most kinds of plain linen and woolen cloth is fairly steady, and so are their prices. In other occupations the same amount of work does not always yield the same amount of goods. The same amount of work produces very different quantities of corn, wine, hops, sugar, tobacco, etc., in different years. Their prices therefore change not only with demand but also with much larger and more frequent changes in the quantity produced. Their prices fluctuate greatly, and some dealers’ profits must fluctuate with them. The speculative merchant deals chiefly in such goods. He tries to buy them when he expects their price to rise and sell them when he expects it to fall.
Third, equality in the total advantages and disadvantages of different uses of labor and stock can exist only when they are the sole or main occupations of the people engaged in them.
When a person earns a living from one occupation that does not take up most of his time, he will often work at another during his free hours for less than its wages would normally have to be.
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 part-time servant to landlords and farmers. Their usual payment from their master is a house, a small garden for cooking herbs, enough grass to feed a cow, and perhaps an acre or two of poor land to cultivate. When he needs their labor, he also gives them two pecks of oatmeal a week, worth about sixteen pence sterling. For much of the year he needs little or none of their labor. Working their own small holding does not use up the rest of their time. When these people were more numerous, they were said to offer their spare time to anyone for very little pay and to work for lower wages than other laborers. They seem to have been common throughout Europe in ancient times. In countries with poorly cultivated land and still fewer people, most landlords and farmers could not otherwise get the extra workers needed for country labor at certain times of year. The daily or weekly payment these workers sometimes received from their masters was plainly not their entire pay. Their small holding was a substantial part of it. Yet many writers who gathered ancient figures for the prices of labor and provisions seem to have treated that daily or weekly payment as the whole. They then took pleasure in portraying both prices as remarkably low.
Goods made by such workers often reach the market more cheaply than their kind of work would normally allow. In many parts of Scotland, stockings are knitted much more cheaply than they can be made on a loom anywhere. The knitters are servants and laborers who earn most of their living at another job. More than a thousand pair of Shetland stockings are brought into Leith each year, at prices from fivepence to seven-pence a pair. At Lerwick, the small capital of the Shetland islands, I have been told that tenpence a day is a common wage for ordinary labor. In the same islands, people knit worsted stockings worth a guinea a pair and upwards.
Linen yarn is spun in Scotland in much the same way stockings are knitted: by servants hired chiefly for other tasks. People who try to make their living from either trade earn very little. 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, a market is usually large enough for a single trade to use all the labor and stock of those engaged in it. People who live by one job while earning a little extra from another are found mainly in poor countries. Yet there is a similar example in the capital of a very rich country. I believe no city in Europe has higher house-rent than London. But I know no capital where a furnished room can be rented more cheaply. Lodgings in London cost much less than in Paris. They also cost much less than equally good lodgings in Edinburgh. Oddly enough, high house-rent is what makes lodgings cheap. Rents in London are high partly for the reasons they are high in all great capitals: labor is expensive, building materials must generally be brought from far away and are expensive, and, above all, ground-rent is expensive. Every landlord acts like a monopolist and often charges more rent for a single acre of poor town land than can be had for a hundred acres of the best country land. But rents are also high partly because of the local custom requiring every head of a family to rent an entire house, from top to bottom. In England, a dwelling-house means everything under one roof. In France, Scotland, and many other parts of Europe, it often means only one floor. A London shopkeeper must rent a whole house in the area where his customers live. His shop is on the ground floor, and his family sleeps in the attic. He tries to cover part of the rent by letting the two middle floors to lodgers. He expects to support his family through his trade, not his lodgers. In Paris and Edinburgh, however, people who let lodgings commonly have no other way to support themselves. The lodging price must therefore pay not just their rent but all their family expenses.
PART II.—Inequalities Caused by European Policy.
These are the inequalities in the overall advantages and disadvantages of different ways of using labor and stock caused by the absence of any of the three conditions mentioned above. They arise even where there is complete freedom. But European policy does not allow complete freedom and causes other, much more important inequalities.
It does so chiefly in three ways. First, it limits competition in some occupations to fewer people than would otherwise wish to enter them. Second, it increases competition in others beyond its natural level. Third, it obstructs the free movement of labor and stock between occupations and between places.
First, European policy creates a very important inequality in the overall advantages and disadvantages of different uses of labor and stock by restricting competition in some occupations to fewer people than would otherwise wish to enter them.
Exclusive privileges granted to trade corporations are its main tool for doing so.
In a town, the exclusive privilege of an incorporated trade necessarily limits competition to those admitted as members of that trade. To gain admission, a person usually must have served an apprenticeship in the town under a properly qualified master. The corporation’s rules sometimes control how many apprentices a master may have, and almost always how many years each apprentice must serve. Both rules aim to keep the number of potential competitors much smaller than it would otherwise be. A limit on apprentices directly restricts competition. A long apprenticeship restricts it less directly, but just as effectively, by making training more costly.
In Sheffield, a corporation rule allows no master cutler more than one apprentice at a time. In Norfolk and Norwich, a master weaver may have no more than two apprentices, or he forfeits five pounds a month to the king. Nowhere in England or the English plantations may a master hatter have more than two apprentices. The penalty is five pounds a month, half for the king and half for anyone who sues in a court of record. Both these rules have been confirmed by a public law of the kingdom. Yet they clearly come from the same corporation mentality that produced the Sheffield rule. The silk-weavers in London had been incorporated for barely a year when they passed a rule limiting each master to two apprentices at a time. Parliament had to pass a special act to repeal it.
In earlier times, seven years seems to have been the usual apprenticeship for most incorporated trades throughout Europe. All such corporations were once called universities, the proper Latin term for any corporation at all. Old charters of ancient towns commonly speak of the university of smiths, the university of tailors, etc. When the institutions now specifically called universities first arose, they apparently copied from older trade apprenticeships the number of years required to study for a master of arts degree. To become a master in an ordinary trade and take apprentices himself, a person had to work seven years under a qualified master. Likewise, to become a master, teacher, or doctor in the liberal arts—terms that once meant the same thing—he had to study seven years under a qualified master. He could then have scholars or apprentices study under him; those terms, too, originally meant the same thing.
The 5th of Elizabeth, commonly called the Statute of Apprenticeship, declared that no one could thereafter practice any trade, craft, or skilled occupation then practiced in England unless he had served at least seven years as an apprentice in it. What had previously been a rule of many individual corporations thus became the general public law for trades in English market towns. The statute’s wording is very broad and plainly seems to cover the whole kingdom. In practice, however, its effect has been limited to market towns. Courts have held that in country villages a person may practice several trades without serving seven years in each one. Such trades are needed by the residents, and villages often do not have enough people to provide separate workers for every trade. A strict reading of the wording has also limited the law to trades established in England before the 5th of Elizabeth. It has never applied to trades introduced since then. This limitation has produced several distinctions that seem as foolish as any imaginable rules of public order. For example, a coachmaker has been ruled unable to make his own coach-wheels or employ journeymen to make them. He must buy them from a master wheelwright, since wheelwrights worked in England before the 5th of Elizabeth. Yet a wheelwright who has never apprenticed as a coachmaker may make coaches himself or hire journeymen to make them. Coachmaking is outside the statute because it was not practiced in England when the statute was made. Many manufactures in Manchester, Birmingham, and Wolverhampton are outside it for the same reason: they did not exist in England before the 5th of Elizabeth.
In France, apprenticeships vary in length by town and by trade. In Paris, many trades require five years. But in many of them a person must then work five more years as a journeyman before he can practice as a master. During this second period he is called his master’s companion, and the period is called his companionship.
Scotland has no general law setting the length of all apprenticeships. The period varies between corporations. Where it is long, a person can usually pay a small fine to avoid part of it. In most towns, too, a very small fine buys membership in any corporation. Weavers of linen and hempen cloth, the country’s main manufactures, and craftspeople who support them, such as wheel-makers and reel-makers, may practice in any incorporated town without paying a fine. In all incorporated towns, anyone may sell butchers’ meat on any lawful day of the week. In Scotland, three years is a common apprenticeship even for some very delicate trades. In general, I know of no European country where corporation laws impose so little hardship.
A person’s property in his own labor is the original basis of all other property and so is the most sacred and secure kind. A poor man’s inheritance is the strength and skill of his hands. Preventing him from using them as he sees fit, when he does not harm his neighbor, plainly violates this sacred property. It clearly intrudes on the rightful freedom of both the worker and those who might wish to hire him. It stops him from doing the work he chooses and stops them from hiring the person they choose. Employers can surely judge for themselves whether a person is fit for the work; they have a strong interest in getting it right. The lawmaker’s show of concern that they might hire the wrong person is plainly both meddlesome and oppressive.
Long apprenticeships cannot ensure that shoddy workmanship will not often be offered for sale. When that happens, it is generally due to fraud, not a lack of skill. Even the longest apprenticeship cannot prevent fraud. Different rules are needed to prevent this abuse. The sterling mark on silverware and the stamps on linen and woolen cloth give buyers much better protection than any apprenticeship law. A buyer usually checks those marks but never thinks it worth asking whether the worker served a seven-year apprenticeship.
Long apprenticeships do nothing to teach young people to work hard. A journeyman paid by the piece has reason to work hard because every extra effort benefits him. An apprentice has no immediate reason to do so and is therefore likely to be idle, as he almost always is. In the lower occupations, the satisfaction of work lies entirely in being paid for it. Those who can enjoy that reward sooner are more likely to come to like work sooner and develop a habit of working hard at an early age. A young man naturally comes to dislike work if he gets no benefit from it for a long time. Boys apprenticed through public charities are generally bound for more than the usual number of years. They generally turn out very idle and unreliable.
The ancients did not have apprenticeships at all. Every modern legal code devotes substantial space to the mutual duties of master and apprentice. Roman law says nothing about them. I know of no Greek or Latin word—and I believe I could safely say there is none—that expresses what we now mean by apprentice: a servant bound to work in a particular trade for a master’s benefit for a number of years, on condition that the master teaches him the trade.
Long apprenticeships are entirely unnecessary. Skills far more advanced than ordinary trades, such as making clocks and watches, have no secrets that demand years of instruction. Inventing such fine machines in the first place, and even inventing some of the tools used to make them, certainly required deep thought and a great deal of time. These inventions rightly rank among the finest achievements of human ingenuity. But once the machines and tools have been invented and are well understood, fully teaching a young man how to use the tools and build the machines cannot take more than a few weeks of lessons. Perhaps a few days would be enough. A few days of lessons would certainly be enough for ordinary mechanical trades. Of course, gaining manual skill even in ordinary trades takes a great deal of practice and experience. But a young man would practice much more carefully and diligently if he worked from the beginning as a journeyman. He would receive pay according to the small amount of work he could do and, in turn, pay for materials he sometimes ruined through clumsiness or inexperience. His training would generally be more effective and always less tedious and costly. The master, however, would lose out. He would lose the apprentice’s wages, which he now keeps for seven years. In the end, the apprentice himself might also lose out. In a trade so easy to learn, he would face more competitors. Once fully trained, he would earn much less than he does now. The same increased competition would lower masters’ profits as well as workers’ wages. All the trades and crafts would lose. But the public would gain, since all craftspeople’s work would reach the market at a much lower price.
Corporations and most corporation laws have been created to prevent this drop in prices, and therefore in wages and profits, by limiting the free competition that would certainly cause it. In ancient times, in many parts of Europe, establishing a corporation required only the authority of the incorporated town where it was formed. In England it also required a royal charter. But the crown seems to have kept this power mainly to collect money from its subjects, rather than to protect everyone’s freedom from oppressive monopolies. The charter was generally granted readily when a fine was paid to the king. Sometimes a group of craftspeople or traders acted as a corporation without a charter. These groups were called adulterine guilds. They were not always stripped of their privileges for that reason, but instead had to pay the king a fine each year for permission to use the privileges they had taken [See Madox Firma Burgi p. 26 etc.]. The incorporated town directly supervised all its corporations and the internal rules they chose to adopt. Any discipline imposed on them usually came not from the king but from the larger town corporation of which these smaller ones were parts.
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
Traders and craftspeople had complete control of incorporated town governments. Each group plainly had an interest in keeping the market from being “overstocked,” as they put it, with the particular kind of work it did. In fact, they wanted to keep it short of supply. Each group was eager to make rules to achieve this and, if allowed to do so, was willing to let every other group make similar rules. Because of these rules, each group had to pay somewhat more than it otherwise would for the goods it needed from the other town groups. But it could charge just as much more for its own goods. In this respect, the extra cost and extra revenue balanced out. None of the groups lost when dealing with one another inside the town. They all gained greatly when dealing with the country, though. It is this latter trade that supports and enriches every town.
A town gets all its food and all the materials for its work from the country. It pays for them mainly in two ways. First, it sends some of those materials back to the country as finished goods. The workers’ wages and the profits of their masters or direct employers are then added to the materials’ price. Second, it sends the country some raw and manufactured goods brought into the town from other countries or distant parts of the same country. The wages of carriers or sailors and the profits of the merchants who hire them are then added to those goods’ original price. The town’s gain from manufacturing comes from the first kind of trade. Its gain from domestic and foreign trade comes from the second. Workers’ wages and their various employers’ profits make up the entire gain from both. So any rules that raise those wages and profits above what they otherwise would be let the town buy the product of more country labor with the product of less of its own labor. They give town traders and craftspeople an advantage over country landlords, farmers, and laborers. They destroy the natural equality that would otherwise exist in trade between the two groups. Each year the entire product of society’s labor is divided between them. Because of these rules, town residents receive a larger share than they otherwise would, and country residents receive a smaller one.
The real price the town pays for the food and materials it brings in each year is the quantity of manufactured and other goods it sends out each year. The more dearly it sells what it sends out, the more cheaply it buys what it brings in. Town work becomes more profitable, and country work less so.
We can see that work in towns is more profitable than work in the country throughout Europe without making any detailed calculations. In every European country, for at least a hundred people who have built large fortunes from small beginnings in trade and manufacturing—the work characteristic of towns—there is only one who has done so by producing raw goods through the improvement and cultivation of land, the work characteristic of the country. Work must therefore bring higher rewards in towns. The wages of labor and the profits of stock must clearly be higher there than in the country. But labor and stock naturally seek the most profitable use. They therefore move toward towns and away from the country as much as they can.
Town residents live close together and can easily make agreements with one another. Accordingly, even the least important town trades have been incorporated somewhere. And even where they have never been incorporated, the corporation mentality usually prevails. Traders distrust outsiders, dislike taking apprentices, and dislike sharing the secrets of their trades. Through voluntary associations and agreements, they often prevent competition that they cannot prohibit by formal rules. Trades employing few people form such agreements most easily. Perhaps half-a-dozen wool-combers are needed to keep a thousand spinners and weavers busy. If they agree not to take apprentices, they can monopolize the work. They can also bring the whole manufacture into a kind of dependence on themselves and raise their own wages far above what the nature of their work would justify.
Country residents are scattered across distant places and cannot easily make such agreements. They have never been incorporated, and the corporation mentality has never taken hold among them. No one has ever thought an apprenticeship necessary for farming, the country’s great trade. Yet apart from what are called the fine arts and the learned professions, perhaps no trade needs such a wide range of knowledge and experience. Countless books on farming have been written in every language. That alone shows that even the wisest and most educated nations have never considered it easy to understand. Yet those books cannot give us all the knowledge of its varied and complicated tasks that an ordinary farmer generally has, however much the contemptible authors of some books may pretend to look down on him. By contrast, the complete operations of almost any ordinary mechanical trade can be clearly explained in a pamphlet only a few pages long, as far as words and illustrations can explain anything. Several trades are actually explained this way in the history of the arts now being published by the French Academy of Sciences. Farm work must also be directed differently whenever the weather or many other circumstances change. Directing it requires much more judgment and care than directing work that is always, or nearly always, the same.
It is not just the farmer’s skill in directing the work of a farm that demands this knowledge. Many simpler kinds of country work require much more skill and experience than most mechanical trades. Someone working with brass and iron uses tools and materials whose condition is always the same, or nearly so. But someone plowing with a team of horses or oxen uses tools whose health, strength, and temperament change from one occasion to another. The condition of the ground he works on varies as much as that of his animals. Both require good judgment and careful handling. Though people commonly treat an ordinary plowman as a model of stupidity and ignorance, he seldom lacks that judgment or care. He has less experience of social conversation than a town craftsperson. His voice and speech are rougher and harder for people unused to them to understand. But he is used to thinking about a wider variety of things. His understanding is generally much better than that of the town worker, whose whole attention is usually spent on one or two very simple tasks from morning until night. Anyone who has talked extensively with both groups, whether for work or out of curiosity, knows how much more capable the lower ranks of country people really are than those of the town. Accordingly, in China and Indostan, both the social standing and wages of country laborers are said to be higher than those of most craftspeople and manufacturing workers. This would probably be true everywhere if corporation laws and the corporation mentality did not prevent it.
Corporations and their laws are not the only reasons that town work has an advantage over country work throughout Europe. Many other rules support that advantage. High duties on foreign manufactures and on all goods imported by foreign merchants have the same effect. Corporation laws allow townspeople to raise their prices without fear that fellow countrymen will compete freely and sell for less. The other rules give them the same protection against foreign competitors. Country landlords, farmers, and laborers ultimately pay the higher prices caused by both sets of rules. They have rarely opposed the creation of these monopolies. They usually have neither the desire nor the ability to form groups of their own. Merchants and manufacturers can easily convince them, with loud complaints and misleading arguments, that the private interest of one part of society—and a subordinate part at that—is the interest of society as a whole.
In Great Britain, town work seems to have had a greater advantage over country work in the past than it has now. Country wages are closer to manufacturing wages, and profits on stock invested in agriculture are closer to profits on 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 can be seen as an inevitable, though very delayed, result of the extraordinary encouragement given to town work. In time, the stock accumulated in towns grows too large to earn its former profits in the work particular to them. Like every other kind of work, it has its limits. Increasing stock increases competition and necessarily lowers profit. Lower town profits drive stock out into the country. There it creates new demand for country labor and necessarily raises wages. Stock then spreads, so to speak, across the land. When invested in agriculture, part of it returns to the country, at whose expense much of it was originally accumulated in the town. I will try to show later that throughout Europe the greatest improvements in the countryside have resulted from these flows of stock first accumulated in towns. I will also show that, although some countries have become fairly wealthy by this route, it is necessarily slow and uncertain. Countless events can disrupt or interrupt it, and it goes against the natural and reasonable order in every respect. In the third and fourth books of this Inquiry, I will try to explain as fully and clearly as I can the interests, prejudices, laws, and customs that have brought it about.
People in the same trade rarely meet, even to have fun, without their conversation ending in a scheme against the public or a plan to raise prices. No law that could be enforced, or that would respect freedom and justice, could prevent such meetings. But though the law cannot stop people in the same trade from meeting sometimes, it should do nothing to make such meetings easier, much less make them necessary.
A rule requiring everyone in a particular town trade to enter their names and addresses in a public register makes such meetings easier. It connects people who might never otherwise know each other and tells each member of the trade where to find all the others.
A rule allowing people in the same trade to tax themselves to support their poor, sick, widows, and orphans gives them a shared interest to manage. It makes such meetings necessary.
Incorporation not only makes meetings necessary but also makes the majority’s decision binding on everyone. In a trade open to all, an effective agreement to restrict competition needs the consent of every single trader. It lasts only as long as every one of them continues to agree. A corporation’s majority can pass a rule with penalties that restricts competition more effectively and for longer than any voluntary agreement could.
There is no basis for the claim that corporations are needed to manage a trade better. The real, effective control over a worker comes from his customers, not his corporation. Fear of losing their business prevents him from cheating and makes him correct careless work. An exclusive corporation necessarily weakens that control. Customers must employ a certain group of workers whether they do good work or bad. That is why in many large incorporated towns, it is impossible to find even tolerable workers in some of the most necessary trades. To get adequate work, you must have it done in the suburbs. Workers there have no exclusive privileges and depend entirely on their reputations. You must then get the finished work into town secretly as best you can.
In this way, European policy creates a very important inequality in the overall advantages and disadvantages of different uses of labor and stock. It does so by limiting competition in some occupations to fewer people than would otherwise wish to enter them.
Second, European policy creates another inequality of the opposite kind in the overall advantages and disadvantages of different uses of labor and stock. It does so by increasing competition in some occupations beyond its natural level.
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
People have considered it so important to educate enough young people for certain professions that public bodies and private donors have set up many pensions, scholarships, grants, bursaries, and similar forms of support. These bring many more people into those professions than could otherwise hope to enter them. In every Christian country, I believe, most clergy are educated this way. Very few pay the whole cost themselves. Those who do pay for their own long, demanding, and expensive education will not always earn a suitable return. The church is crowded with people willing to accept much less pay to get a position than such an education would otherwise command. In this way, competition from the poor reduces the reward of the rich. It would certainly be improper to compare a curate or chaplain with a journeyman in an ordinary trade. But the pay of a curate or chaplain can quite reasonably be treated as the same kind of payment as a journeyman's wages. All three are paid for their work under whatever agreement they make with the people who employ them. Until after the middle of the fourteenth century, the usual pay of a curate or a salaried parish priest in England was five merks, containing about as much silver as ten pounds of our present money. Several national church councils set this rate in their decrees. At the same time, the stated pay of a master mason was fourpence a-day, containing as much silver as a shilling of our present money. A journeyman mason earned threepence a-day, equal to ninepence of our present money. [See the Statute of Laborers, 25, Ed. III.] If both masons had steady work, their wages were much higher than the curate's pay. Even if the master mason lacked work for one-third of the year, his wages would have fully equaled it. The 12th of Queen Anne, c. 12. declares: “Because curates have not received enough pay or encouragement, parish duties have been poorly performed in several places. The bishop may therefore set, in a document bearing his signature and seal, a definite and adequate stipend or allowance of at least twenty and no more than fifty pounds a-year.” Forty pounds a-year is now considered very good pay for a curate. Yet despite this act of parliament, many curacies pay under twenty pounds a-year. Journeymen shoemakers in London earn forty pounds a-year, and hardly any hardworking worker of any kind there earns less than twenty. Even ordinary laborers in many rural parishes often earn as much as that last amount. Whenever the law has tried to set workers' wages, its aim has been to lower them rather than raise them. But it has often tried to raise curates' pay, requiring parish rectors, for the dignity of the church, to pay them more than the miserable amount the curates themselves might accept. In both cases the law seems equally ineffective. It has neither raised curates' wages nor lowered laborers' wages as intended. It cannot prevent curates from accepting less than the legal allowance because they are poor and face many competitors. Nor can it prevent laborers from receiving more, because employers compete for their work in hopes of earning a profit or gaining pleasure from it.
Large benefices and other high church positions preserve the church's standing despite the poverty of some lower-ranking clergy. The respect given to the profession also makes up, to some degree, for their low pay. In England and every Roman Catholic country, the chance of winning a valuable church position is actually better than it needs to be. The churches of Scotland, Geneva, and several other Protestant places show that this respected profession can attract enough educated, decent, respectable men to the clergy with the prospect of much smaller benefices, especially when education is so easy to obtain.
In professions without benefices, such as law and medicine, publicly educating the same proportion of people would soon produce so much competition that earnings would fall sharply. It might then no longer be worthwhile for anyone to pay to educate a son for either profession. Only people educated through public charities would enter them. Their numbers and their need for work would generally force them to accept miserable pay, bringing the now respected professions of law and medicine into complete disrepute.
The unfortunate group usually called men of letters are already in much the position that lawyers and physicians would probably occupy in that case. Across Europe, most were educated for the church but were prevented for various reasons from becoming clergy. They were therefore generally educated at public expense. There are so many of them everywhere that the price paid for their work is usually very low.
Before printing was invented, a man of letters could earn money from his talents only by teaching publicly or privately. He passed on the interesting and useful knowledge he had acquired. Teaching is surely still more honorable, more useful, and generally even more profitable than writing for a bookseller, an occupation made possible by printing. The time and study, talent, knowledge, and effort needed to become an outstanding teacher of the sciences are at least as great as those needed to become a leading lawyer or physician. But an outstanding teacher's usual pay is nowhere near theirs. Teaching is crowded with poor people educated for it at public expense, while very few lawyers or physicians have not paid for their own education. The usual pay of public and private teachers may seem small, but it would certainly be smaller still if the competition of even poorer men of letters, who write to earn a living, did not draw them out of teaching. Before printing, the words scholar and beggar seem to have meant almost the same thing. University officials of that time appear often to have given their scholars permission to beg.
In ancient times, before charities began educating poor people for the learned professions, outstanding teachers seem to have received much higher pay. In his discourse against the sophists, Isocrates accuses the teachers of his day of contradicting themselves. “They make enormous promises to their students,” he says, “and undertake to teach them to be wise, happy, and just. In exchange for such an important service, they ask for the tiny payment of four or five minae.” He continues: “Those who teach wisdom should surely be wise themselves. But anyone selling such a bargain at such a price would clearly be shown to be a fool.” He certainly is not exaggerating their pay, and we can be sure it was at least as high as he says. Four minae equaled thirteen pounds six shillings and eightpence; five minae equaled sixteen pounds thirteen shillings and fourpence. At that time, therefore, the most distinguished teachers at Athens must normally have been paid at least the higher of these sums. Isocrates himself charged each student ten minae, or £ 33:6:8. He is said to have had a hundred students when he taught at Athens. I take this to mean the number he taught at one time, or in what we would call a single course of lectures. That number is not surprising in a city so large, for a teacher so famous, teaching rhetoric, the most fashionable subject of the day. He must therefore have made a thousand minae, or £ 3335:6:8, from each course. Accordingly, Plutarch elsewhere says that a thousand minae was his didactron, or normal teaching fee. Many other celebrated teachers of that time seem to have made great fortunes. Georgias gave the temple at Delphi a solid-gold statue of himself. I assume it was not life-sized. Plato describes Georgias, Hippias, and Protagoras, two other leading teachers, as living splendidly, even showily. Plato himself is said to have lived in considerable splendor. Aristotle tutored Alexander and, as everyone agrees, was rewarded very generously by both Alexander and his father, Philip. Yet he still thought it worthwhile to return to Athens and resume teaching at his school. Teachers of the sciences were probably less common then than a century or two later, when competition probably reduced both their pay and the admiration they received. Still, the most distinguished teachers seem always to have enjoyed much higher standing than teachers of the same kind today. The Athenians sent Carneades the academic and Diogenes the stoic as official ambassadors to Rome. Athens had lost its former greatness by then, but was still a significant independent republic.
Carneades was also born in Babylonia. No people were more reluctant than the Athenians to let foreigners hold public office, so they must have held him in very high regard.
On balance, this inequality may benefit the public more than it harms it. It may lower the standing of public teaching somewhat. But inexpensive literary education is surely an advantage that far outweighs that small drawback. The public could gain even more if the schools and colleges providing that education were organized more sensibly than most now are across Europe.
Thirdly, European policy prevents labor and stock from moving freely both between kinds of work and between places. In some cases, this produces very troublesome differences in the overall advantages and disadvantages of different kinds of work.
Apprenticeship laws keep labor from moving freely between kinds of work, even in the same place. The exclusive privileges of corporations keep it from moving between places, even within the same trade.
Workers in one industry often earn high wages while those in another must get by on barely enough to live. One industry is growing and constantly needs more workers. The other is declining, with a growing excess of workers. These industries may operate in the same town, or even the same neighborhood, without being able to help each other at all. Apprenticeship laws can block workers in one case; those laws together with exclusive corporate privileges can block them in the other. Yet many industries have such similar tasks that workers could easily change trades if these absurd laws did not stop them. Weaving plain linen and plain silk, for example, involve almost exactly the same work. Weaving plain woolen cloth is a little different, but the difference is so slight that a linen or silk weaver could become competent at it in just a few days. If any of these three major industries declined, its workers could find an alternative in one of the other two, if that industry was doing better. Wages would then neither climb too high in the growing industry nor sink too low in the declining one. A particular statute does let anyone make linen in England. But linen production is uncommon across most of the country, so it provides no general alternative for workers in other declining industries. Where apprenticeship laws apply, such workers have only two choices: depend on parish relief, or become ordinary laborers. Their previous habits leave them much less suited to ordinary labor than to manufacturing work resembling their own. They therefore usually choose parish relief.
Anything that prevents labor from moving freely between occupations also prevents stock from moving. How much stock can be used in a business largely depends on how much labor can be used there. Corporation laws, however, do less to stop stock from moving between places than labor. Everywhere it is much easier for a wealthy merchant to gain permission to trade in a chartered town than for a poor craftsman to gain permission to work there.
I believe corporation laws restrict the free movement of labor throughout Europe. The restriction imposed by the poor laws, as far as I know, is peculiar to England. It comes from the difficulty a poor man faces in gaining a legal settlement in any parish except his own, or even in being allowed to work there. Corporation laws restrict only the movement of craftspeople and manufacturing workers. The difficulty of getting a settlement restricts even ordinary labor. It is worth describing the beginnings, development, and present state of this problem, perhaps the worst in England's laws governing society.
When the monasteries were destroyed, the poor lost the charity those religious houses had provided. After other attempts to help them failed, the 43d of Elizabeth, c. 2. required every parish to provide for its own poor. Each year it was to appoint overseers of the poor, who, together with the churchwardens, would raise enough money for this purpose through a parish tax.
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 made every parish responsible for supporting its own poor. That made it important to decide who counted as belonging to each parish. After the rule changed several times, the 13th and 14th of Charles II. finally settled the question. It said that forty days of uninterrupted residence gave anyone a legal settlement in a parish. But during those forty days, two justices of the peace could, after a complaint from the churchwardens or overseers of the poor, send a newcomer back to the parish where he last had a legal settlement. He could stay if he rented a place for ten pounds a-year or gave whatever security the justices considered enough to protect the parish where he now lived from having to support him.
People say this statute led to fraud. Parish officers sometimes bribed poor residents to sneak into another parish and hide there for forty days. The residents would then gain a settlement in the new parish, freeing their original parish from responsibility for them. So the 1st of James II. required that the forty-day period of uninterrupted residence begin only when a person gave a churchwarden or overseer of his new parish written notice of his address and the number of people in his family.
But parish officers were apparently no more honest in looking after their own parish than they had been toward other parishes. Sometimes they knowingly let newcomers settle, accepting their notices without taking the proper steps afterward. Since everyone in the parish was assumed to want to keep these newcomers from becoming a financial burden, the 3rd of William III. went further. It said the forty-day period would begin only when the written notice was read out in church on Sunday, immediately after the service.
“Even so,” says Doctor Burn, “a person very rarely gains a settlement by remaining for forty days after the written notice is published. The point of the acts is not so much to allow settlements as to prevent people from secretly entering a parish and acquiring them. Giving notice simply forces the parish to remove the newcomer. But if it is unclear whether a person can legally be removed, he can give notice and force the parish to choose: either let him stay forty days and gain an uncontested settlement, or remove him and put his legal right to the test.”
This statute made it nearly impossible for a poor man to gain a new settlement by the old method of living in a parish for forty days. But to avoid appearing to prevent ordinary people from one parish from ever making a secure home in another, it established four more ways to gain a settlement without giving or publishing notice. First, a person could be assessed for parish taxes and pay them. Second, he could be elected to an annual parish office and serve for a year. Third, he could serve an apprenticeship in the parish. Fourth, he could be hired there for a year's service and remain in the same job for that whole year. No one can gain a settlement by either of the first two methods without an official action by the parish as a whole. Its members understand the consequences too well to accept a newcomer who has only his labor to live on by taxing him for parish relief or electing him to a parish office.
A married man can hardly gain a settlement by either of the last two methods. Apprentices are almost never married, and the law expressly says that a married servant cannot gain a settlement by being hired for a year. Allowing settlements through service has largely ended the old custom of hiring servants for a year. That custom used to be so common in England that even today, if an agreement specifies no period, the law assumes a servant was hired for a year. But employers do not always want to give servants a settlement by hiring them this way. Servants do not always want to accept such a contract either. Each new settlement cancels every earlier one, so they might lose their original settlement in their birthplace, where their parents and relatives live.
Clearly, an independent worker, whether an ordinary laborer or a craftsperson, is unlikely to gain a new settlement through apprenticeship or service. When such a worker took his skills to a new parish, any churchwarden or overseer could choose to have him removed, however healthy and hardworking he was. To avoid this, he had to rent a place for ten pounds a-year, impossible for someone living solely on his labor, or provide security that two justices of the peace considered enough to keep the parish from having to support him.
The justices have complete discretion over what security to require. But they can hardly require less than thirty pounds. The law says that even buying freehold property worth less than thirty pounds does not grant a settlement, because it does not sufficiently protect the parish. Hardly anyone living by labor can provide that much security, and the amount demanded is often much greater.
To restore some of the free movement of labor that these statutes had almost entirely removed, lawmakers devised certificates. The 8th and 9th of William III. said that another parish had to accept anyone who brought a certificate from his last parish of legal settlement. The certificate had to be signed by its churchwardens and overseers of the poor and approved by two justices of the peace. The receiving parish could not remove him simply because he was likely to need assistance, but only if he actually did need it. The parish that issued the certificate would then have to pay both for his support and for his removal. To give the receiving parish complete protection, the same statute said that a person with a certificate could gain a settlement there only by renting a place for ten pounds a-year or serving on his own account in an annual parish office for a full year. He could not gain one by notice, service, apprenticeship, or payment of parish taxes. The 12th of Queen Anne, stat. 1, c.18, also said that neither the servants nor the apprentices of a person with a certificate could gain a settlement in the parish where he lived under it.
Doctor Burn makes an insightful observation that shows how far certificates restored the free movement of labor taken away by the earlier laws. “Clearly,” he says, “there are several good reasons for requiring people moving into a place to bring certificates. Those who live under certificates cannot gain a settlement by apprenticeship, service, notice, or paying parish taxes. They cannot give their apprentices or servants a settlement. If they become a burden, the parish knows where to send them, and it will be paid both for removing them and for supporting them until then. If they fall ill and cannot be moved, the parish that issued the certificate must support them. None of these protections applies without a certificate. The same reasons also give parishes good reason not to issue certificates in ordinary cases: it is much more likely than not that those people will return, and in worse condition.” The lesson of this observation seems to be that a parish should always require a certificate from a poor man moving in, while a parish he wants to leave should hardly ever issue one. The same well-informed author says in his History of the Poor Laws: “There is real hardship in the certificate system. It effectively lets a parish officer keep a man imprisoned for life in the place where he had the misfortune to acquire a so-called settlement, however inconvenient it is for him to stay there and whatever advantages he might hope to gain by living elsewhere.”
A certificate says nothing about a person's good behavior. It only confirms that he belongs to the parish to which he actually belongs. Even so, parish officers are entirely free to issue one or refuse. Doctor Burn says that someone once asked a court for a mandamus, an order forcing churchwardens and overseers to sign a certificate. The Court of King's Bench rejected the request as a very strange proposal.
The sharp differences in wages that we often find between nearby places in England probably result from settlement laws. They prevent a poor man from moving his labor from one parish to another without a certificate. A single, healthy, hardworking man can sometimes stay without one because the parish lets him. But in most parishes a man with a wife and family attempting that would certainly be removed. If a single man married later, he would generally be removed too. So a shortage of workers in one parish cannot always be relieved by an excess in another. This happens routinely in Scotland and, I believe, every other country where legal settlement is not difficult. In those countries, wages can rise a little near a big town or another place with unusually high demand for labor, then gradually fall with distance until they reach the country's ordinary rate. But we never find the sudden, inexplicable wage differences between neighboring places that sometimes occur in England. There, it is often harder for a poor man to cross the artificial boundary of a parish than to cross an arm of the sea or a range of high mountains, natural barriers that sometimes separate very different wage rates in other countries.
Removing a man who has done nothing wrong from the parish where he chooses to live plainly violates natural liberty and justice. Yet the ordinary people of England, though very protective of their liberty, have endured this oppression without a remedy for over a century. Like ordinary people in most other countries, they do not properly understand what liberty means. Thoughtful people have sometimes complained that settlement law harms the public. But it has never caused widespread public outrage like the outrage against general warrants. General warrants are certainly an abusive practice, but they are unlikely to oppress people on a broad scale. I would venture to say that hardly any poor man in England aged forty has gone through life without suffering cruel oppression from this badly designed settlement law.
I will close this long chapter by noting that authorities used to set wage rates, first through general laws applying across the kingdom and then through specific orders from justices of the peace in each county. Both practices have now completely fallen out of use. “After more than four hundred years of experience,” says Doctor Burn, “it seems time to stop trying to regulate in precise detail something that by its nature cannot be precisely limited. If everyone doing the same kind of work received equal wages, there would be no competition to excel and no reward for hard work or skill.”
Even so, particular acts of parliament still sometimes try to regulate wages in specific trades and places. For example, the 8th of George III. imposes heavy penalties on master tailors in London and within five miles of it for paying, and on their workers for accepting, more than two shillings and sevenpence halfpenny a-day, except during a period of general mourning. Whenever legislators try to regulate relations between employers and workers, the employers always advise them. So when a regulation favors workers, it is always just and fair, but this is not always true when it favors employers. For example, the law requiring employers in several trades to pay workers in money rather than goods is entirely just and fair. It causes employers no real hardship. It simply requires them to pay in money the value they claimed to pay in goods, but did not always actually pay. That law favors workers; the 8th of George III. favors employers. When employers join together to cut workers' wages, they commonly make a private agreement not to pay more than a set rate, with a penalty for breaking the agreement. If workers made the opposite kind of agreement not to accept a particular wage, again with a penalty, the law would punish them very severely. If it were impartial, it would treat employers the same way. But the 8th of George III. makes law the very rule employers sometimes try to establish through such agreements. Workers' complaint that it treats the most able and hardworking exactly like ordinary workers seems completely justified.
In earlier times, people also tried to regulate the profits of merchants and other sellers by fixing the prices of food and other goods. As far as I know, official regulation of bread prices is the only remaining example. If a corporation has exclusive trading privileges, it may be appropriate to set the price of this basic necessity. But if there is no such corporation, competition will set the price much better than any official rule. Scotland could not apply the method for setting bread prices established by the 31st of George II. because of a flaw in the law: enforcement depended on the office of clerk of the market, which Scotland did not have. The flaw was not corrected until the third of George III. The absence of official bread-price regulation caused no noticeable harm; introducing it in the few places where this has happened has brought no noticeable benefit. Most Scottish towns, however, have a bakers' corporation claiming exclusive privileges, though those privileges are not very strictly protected. As already noted, the relative rates of wages and profit in different uses of labor and stock do not seem greatly affected by whether society is rich or poor, growing, stationary, or declining. Such changes in public well-being affect general wage and profit rates, but must eventually affect all occupations equally. Their proportions therefore remain the same and cannot readily be changed for any significant length of time by such changes.
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
ON THE RENT OF LAND.
Rent, as the price paid to use land, is normally the highest amount the tenant can afford in the land's actual condition. When agreeing on a lease, the landlord tries to leave the tenant only enough of the produce to replace the stock used to supply seed, pay workers, and buy and keep livestock and other farming equipment, plus the ordinary profit on farming stock in the area. This is plainly the smallest share the tenant can accept without losing money. The landlord seldom intends to leave him more. The landlord normally tries to take as rent everything above that share, whether it is produce or the money earned by selling the produce. In the land's actual condition, this is clearly the most the tenant can afford to pay. Sometimes a landlord accepts a little less, through generosity but more often through ignorance. Less often, a tenant's ignorance leads him to promise a little more, accepting less than the ordinary profit on farming stock nearby. Even so, this amount can be considered the natural rent of land: the rent at which land will normally be leased.
One might think that land rent is often just a reasonable profit or interest on the stock a landlord spent improving the land. That may sometimes explain part of the rent, but can hardly explain all of it. A landlord charges rent even for unimproved land. The supposed interest or profit on improvement costs is generally added to this original rent. Moreover, improvements are not always paid for with the landlord's stock; sometimes the tenant pays for them. Yet when the lease is renewed, the landlord usually raises the rent just as much as if he had paid for every improvement himself.
A landlord sometimes charges rent for land that people cannot improve at all. Kelp is a kind of seaweed that produces an alkaline salt when burned. The salt is useful for making glass, soap, and other things. In several parts of Great Britain, especially Scotland, kelp grows only on rocks below the high-water mark. The sea covers them twice every day, so human effort has never increased their output. Yet a landlord whose property includes such a kelp-covered shore charges rent for it just as he does for his cornfields.
The sea around the Shetland islands has an unusually plentiful supply of fish, which provide much of the inhabitants' food. But to benefit from what the water produces, they need homes on the nearby land. The landlord's rent therefore reflects not just what a farmer can earn from the land but what he can earn from the land and the water together. Some of the rent is paid in sea fish. This is one of the very few cases in which rent forms part of that product's price.
Land rent, then, when understood as the price for using land, is naturally a monopoly price. It bears no relation to what the landlord may have spent improving the land or to the amount he can afford to accept. It depends on what the farmer can afford to pay.
Usually, only produce whose ordinary selling price can replace the stock needed to bring it to market, along with the ordinary profit on that stock, can be brought to market. If the ordinary price exceeds that amount, the excess will naturally become land rent. If it does not exceed it, the product may still be brought to market but will provide no rent to the landlord. Demand determines whether the price exceeds that amount.
Demand for some kinds of land produce must always bring a price higher than the cost of bringing them to market. Demand for other kinds may or may not bring such a price. The first group must always bring landlords rent. The second may or may not, depending on circumstances.
Notice, then, that rent contributes to the price of goods in a different way from wages and profit. High or low wages and profit cause high or low prices. High or low rent results from high or low prices. A product's price is high or low because the wages and profit needed to bring it to market are high or low. But the product provides high rent, low rent, or none because its price exceeds those wages and profit by a lot, by a little, or not at all.
This chapter will have three parts. First I will examine types of land produce that always bring some rent. Then I will examine those that sometimes do and sometimes do not. Finally I will examine how, at different stages of improvement, the relative values of these two kinds of raw produce naturally change, both against each other and against manufactured goods.
PART I.—On Land Produce That Always Brings Rent.
People, like all other animals, naturally increase in number according to the food available to support them. Food is therefore always in some demand. It can always buy the work of some number of people, and someone can always be found willing to work to get it. Because wages can be high, the amount of labor food can buy is not always as great as the amount it could support if used as economically as possible. But it can always buy as much labor as it can support at the usual local cost of supporting that kind of worker.
In almost any place, however, land produces more food than is needed to support, even generously, all the labor required to bring that food to market. The extra food is also always more than enough to replace the stock that employed the workers and pay a profit on it. Something is therefore always left over as rent for the landlord.
Even the bleakest moors of Norway and Scotland provide some grazing for cattle. Their milk and the new animals born are worth more than enough to support everyone needed to look after them and to pay the farmer or herd owner the ordinary profit. They also provide a small rent to the landlord. Rent rises as the quality of the grazing improves. The same area supports more cattle, and because they graze closer together, fewer workers are needed to care for them and gather what they produce. The landlord gains both from increased output and from needing to support less labor out of it.
Land rent varies not only with the fertility of the land, whatever it produces, but also with its location, however fertile it is. Land near a town brings more rent than equally fertile land far away. The two may take the same amount of labor to cultivate, but bringing the distant land's produce to market always costs more. More labor must therefore be supported out of that produce, leaving less extra revenue for both the farmer's profit and the landlord's rent. As already shown, the rate of profit in remote areas is generally higher than near a large town. So the landlord must receive a smaller share of that already reduced extra revenue.
Good roads, canals, and navigable rivers reduce transport costs and put remote areas on a footing more nearly equal to areas close to town. They are therefore the greatest improvements of all. They encourage cultivation in the more distant areas, which must always make up the largest part of a country. Towns benefit because better transport breaks the nearby countryside's monopoly over supplying them. Even that nearby countryside benefits. Though competing products enter its old market, many new markets open for its own products. Moreover, monopoly is a major obstacle to good management. Good management cannot spread everywhere except through free and widespread competition, which forces everyone to adopt it for self-defense. No more than fifty years ago, some counties near London petitioned parliament to oppose extending toll roads to more remote counties. They claimed that cheap labor would allow those counties to sell grass and corn more cheaply than they could in the London market, reducing their rents and ruining their farming. Since then, however, their rents have risen and their farming has improved.
A cornfield of moderate fertility produces far more food for people than an equally large area of even the best pasture. Corn takes much more work to grow, but after replacing the seed and supporting all that labor, far more is left over. If a pound of butcher's meat were never considered worth more than a pound of bread, this greater surplus would everywhere be more valuable and provide more for both the farmer's profit and the landlord's rent. That seems to have happened everywhere in the early stages of farming.
But the relative values of bread and butcher's meat change greatly as farming develops. At its earliest stage, the unimproved open land covering most of the country is given over to cattle. There is more meat than bread. Bread therefore faces more competition among buyers and commands a higher price. Ulloa tells us that at Buenos Ayres, forty or fifty years ago, the usual price of an ox chosen from a herd of two or three hundred was four reals, one-and-twenty pence halfpenny sterling. He says nothing about the price of bread, probably because he found nothing unusual about it. He says an ox there costs little more than the work of catching it. Corn, however, takes considerable labor to grow anywhere. And money wages could be very low in a country along the river Plate, then the direct route from Europe to the silver mines of Potosi. The situation changes when farming spreads across most of the country. There is then more bread than meat. Buyers compete more for meat, which becomes more expensive than bread.
As cultivation spreads, moreover, the remaining unimproved open land cannot meet the demand for meat. Much cultivated land must be used to raise and fatten cattle. Their price must therefore pay not just for the work of tending them but also the rent the landlord and the profit the farmer could have earned by growing crops on that land. Cattle raised on the least cultivated moors sell in the same market at the same price as cattle raised on the best-improved land, allowing for differences in weight or quality. The owners of the moors benefit and raise their rents as the price of their cattle rises. No more than a century ago, in many parts of the Highlands of Scotland, meat cost no more than bread made from oatmeal, and sometimes cost less. The Union opened England's market to Highland cattle. Their usual price is now about three times what it was at the beginning of the century. Rents on many Highland estates have tripled or quadrupled over the same period. Today, in almost every part of Great Britain, a pound of the best meat is generally worth more than two pounds of the best white bread. In plentiful years it is sometimes worth three or four pounds.
As land is improved, the rent and profit of unimproved pasture thus come to depend to some extent on the rent and profit of improved pasture. These in turn depend on the rent and profit of land growing corn. Corn produces a crop each year, while meat takes four or five years to produce. Since an acre produces much less of the latter food, its higher price must make up for the smaller amount. If the higher price more than made up for it, more corn-growing land would become pasture. If it did not, some pasture would be converted back to corn-growing land.
This balance between rent and profit from pasture and from corn-growing land—between land directly producing cattle feed and land directly producing human food—holds only across most of the improved land in a large country. In certain places the situation is very different: pasture brings much higher rent and profit than corn can.
Near a large town, for example, demand for milk and horse feed often combines with the high price of meat to raise the value of pasture above its normal relation to the value of corn-growing land. Clearly, land far away cannot share this local advantage.
Special conditions have sometimes made entire countries so crowded that their land, like land near a large town, cannot grow both enough grass and enough corn for the people who live there. Most of their land is therefore devoted to grass. Grass is bulkier and harder to bring from far away. Corn, the main food of most people, is chiefly imported from other countries. Holland is in this position now. A substantial part of ancient Italy seems to have been in the same position during Rome's prosperous period. According to Cicero, old Cato said the first and most profitable use of a private estate was to feed livestock well; the second was to feed them reasonably well; the third was to feed them poorly. He put plowing only in fourth place for profit and advantage. Growing crops near Rome in ancient Italy must indeed have been strongly discouraged by frequent distributions of corn to the people, either free or very cheaply. The corn came from conquered provinces. Several of these provinces had to supply the republic, in place of taxes, one-tenth of their produce at a fixed price of about sixpence a-peck. Selling this corn to the people at a low price must have lowered the price of corn brought to Rome from Latium, the city's old territory. That would have discouraged crop 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 area where corn is the main crop, an enclosed piece of grassland often brings in more rent than any nearby cornfield. It provides a convenient place to keep the cattle used to grow the corn. In this case, its high rent comes less from its own produce than from the cornfields that the cattle help cultivate. That rent is likely to fall if the neighboring fields are ever all enclosed. Enclosed land in Scotland now seems to bring in high rent because enclosed land is scarce. That high rent will probably last only as long as the scarcity does. Enclosure benefits pasture more than cornfields. It saves the work of watching the cattle. The animals also feed better when a keeper or his dog does not disturb them.
But where pasture has no such local advantage, rent and profit from corn, or from whatever plant provides people's usual food, must normally set the rent and profit of pasture on land suitable for growing that food.
Farmers now grow special grasses, turnips, carrots, and cabbages, and use other methods to feed more cattle on a given area than natural grass could support. One might expect this to reduce the usual gap, in a developed country, between the price of meat and the price of bread. It appears to have done so. There is some reason to believe that in the London market, at least, meat costs much less relative to bread now than it did at the beginning of the last century.
In the appendix to his life of Prince Henry, Doctor Birch gives the prices the prince usually paid for meat. He says that the four quarters of an ox weighing six hundred pounds usually cost him about nine pounds ten shillings. 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, Parliament investigated why food was so expensive at the time. Among the evidence, a Virginia merchant said that in March 1763 he had bought beef to provision his ships for twentyfour or twenty-five shillings per hundred weight. He considered that the normal price. But in the expensive year, he had paid twenty-seven shillings for the same weight and kind. Even this high 1764 price was four shillings and eight-pence below the ordinary price Prince Henry paid. And it should be noted that only the best beef is suitable for salting for such long voyages.
Prince Henry paid 3d. ⅘ths per pound weight for the whole carcass, counting both cheaper and better cuts. At that rate, the better cuts could not have retailed for less than 4½d. or 5d. the pound.
In the parliamentary investigation of 1764, witnesses said consumers paid 4d. and 4½d. the pound for the better cuts of the best beef. The cheaper cuts generally cost from seven farthings to 2½d. and 2¾d. They said these prices were generally one halfpenny higher than the usual prices for the same cuts in March. Yet even these high prices are considerably below what we can reasonably suppose ordinary retail prices were in Prince Henry's time.
During the first twelve years of the last century, the best wheat at Windsor market averaged £ 1:18:3½d. per quarter of nine Winchester bushels.
But in the twelve years preceding 1764 including that year, the same measure of the best wheat at the same market averaged £ 2:1:9½d.
So in the first twelve years of the last century, wheat appears to have been considerably cheaper, and meat considerably more expensive, than in the twelve years preceding 1764, including that year.
In every large country, most cultivated land produces food either for people or for cattle. The rent and profit from that land set the rent and profit from all other cultivated land. If a particular crop paid less, its land would soon be used for corn or pasture. If it paid more, some cornfields or pasture would soon be used for that crop.
Some crops require a higher initial cost to prepare the land, or a higher annual cost to cultivate it. They usually seem to bring in, respectively, higher rent or higher profit than corn or pasture. But the extra return seldom exceeds reasonable interest on, or compensation for, the extra expense.
A hop garden, an orchard, and a vegetable garden generally give the landlord more rent and the farmer more profit than a cornfield or pasture. But preparing the land for them costs more, which justifies higher rent. They also need more careful and skilled management, which justifies higher profit. The harvest, particularly in hop gardens and orchards, is less certain. The price must therefore cover occasional losses and provide something like an insurance profit. Gardeners are generally of modest means and never especially wealthy. That suggests their great skill is not usually overpaid. So many rich people practice gardening for pleasure that those who garden for profit gain little from it. The people who would naturally be their best customers grow their own finest produce.
The landlord's gain from such improvements seems never to have been greater than enough to cover their initial cost. In ancient farming, a well-watered vegetable garden was thought to produce the most valuable crop on a farm after a vineyard. But Democritus, who wrote on farming about two thousand years ago and was regarded by the ancients as a founder of the art, thought it unwise to enclose a vegetable garden. He said its profit would not cover a stone wall. Bricks (by which I suppose he meant sun-dried bricks) crumbled in rain and winter storms and needed constant repairs. Columella reports this judgment without arguing against it. Instead he suggests a very cheap enclosure: a hedge of brambles and briars. He says experience showed it made a durable, impenetrable fence. Apparently this was not widely known in Democritus's day. Palladius accepts Columella's view, which Varro had recommended earlier. To these ancient agricultural improvers, a vegetable garden's yield apparently barely covered the extra cultivation and watering. In countries so close to the sun, people then, as now, thought it necessary to have access to a stream that could water every garden bed. In most of Europe today, a vegetable garden is not considered worth a better fence than Columella's. In Great Britain and some other northern countries, the finer fruits cannot ripen properly without a wall. Their price must therefore pay for building and maintaining that wall. The fruit wall often encloses the vegetable garden too. The garden thus benefits from an enclosure that its own produce could seldom pay for.
In both ancient and modern wine-producing countries, a properly planted, fully productive vineyard has apparently always been considered the most valuable part of a farm. But ancient Italian farmers disputed whether planting a new vineyard was worthwhile, as Columella tells us. A true enthusiast for careful cultivation, he argues for the vineyard. He tries to show, by comparing profits and expenses, that planting one is highly profitable. But calculations of the likely profits and costs of new ventures are often misleading, especially in farming. If such vineyards had usually made as much money as he imagined they could, there would have been nothing to dispute. The issue is still often debated in wine-producing countries today. Agricultural writers who favor intensive cultivation generally side with Columella and support vineyards. In France, owners of established vineyards are eager to stop new ones being planted. This seems to support those writers' view: the owners, who have direct experience, evidently believe vineyards are now more profitable there than any other cultivation. At the same time, their behavior suggests they believe this extra profit will last only while laws restrict people from freely growing vines. In 1731 they obtained an order of council. It banned new vineyards and the renewal of old ones left uncultivated for two years, unless the king gave special permission. That permission could be granted only after the province's intendant reported that he had examined the land and found it unsuitable for any other crop. The stated reason for the order was a shortage of corn and pasture and too much wine. But if there really had been too much wine, no order would have been needed. The surplus would have driven vineyard profits below their normal relation to profits from corn and pasture, stopping people from planting new vineyards. As for the supposed shortage of corn caused by the spread of vineyards, nowhere in France is corn grown more carefully than on suitable land in the wine provinces, including Burgundy, Guienne, and the Upper Languedoc. The many people working in vineyards create a ready market for corn and thus encourage its cultivation. Reducing the number of people able to buy corn is surely a poor way to encourage corn growing. It is like trying to promote farming by discouraging manufacturing.
So crops that cost more to establish or cultivate each year can bring in much more rent and profit than corn and pasture. But if that difference merely covers the extra expense, their rent and profit are in fact governed by those of the ordinary crops.
Sometimes, though, too little land is suitable for a particular crop to meet the demand from buyers able to pay its normal cost. The whole crop can then be sold to people willing to pay more than the rent, wages, and profit needed to grow it and take it to market at the rates normally paid on most other cultivated land. In this case, and usually only in this case, the portion of its price left after all development and cultivation costs are paid need not bear any regular relation to the comparable portion from corn or pasture. It may be greater by almost any amount. Most of this extra return naturally becomes the landlord's rent.
For example, the usual relation between the rent and profit from wine and those from corn and pasture applies only to vineyards producing ordinary good wine. Such wine can grow almost anywhere on light, gravelly, or sandy soil. Its only special qualities are its strength and wholesomeness. Ordinary land can compete with those vineyards. It clearly cannot compete with vineyards producing wine of a distinctive quality.
Differences in soil affect vines more than any other fruit tree. Some soils are thought to give wine a flavor that no methods of growing or making it can reproduce elsewhere. Whether real or imagined, this flavor sometimes belongs to just a few vineyards, sometimes to most of a small district, and sometimes to a substantial part of a large province. The amount of such wine brought to market is less than buyers would take at a price that covered the ordinary rent, profit, and wages needed to make and deliver it, as those costs are paid in ordinary vineyards. All of it can therefore be sold to buyers willing to pay more, raising its price above that of ordinary wine. How much more depends on how fashionable and scarce the wine is, and therefore how fiercely buyers compete for it. Most of the difference, whatever its size, goes to the landlord as rent. It is true that these vineyards generally receive more careful cultivation than most others. But their high wine price appears to cause that care, rather than result from it. Neglecting such valuable grapes would be so costly that even the most careless grower must pay attention. Only a small part of the higher price is needed to pay for the extra labor and the profit on the extra stock used to employ that labor.
The European nations' sugar colonies in the West Indies are comparable to these valuable vineyards. Their total output falls short of the demand in Europe from buyers able to pay the ordinary rent, profit, and wages needed to produce sugar and take it to market. It can therefore be sold to people willing to pay more. In Cochin China, the finest white sugar generally sells for three piastres the quintal, about thirteen shillings and sixpence of our money. This is reported by Mr Poivre [Voyages d’un Philosophe.], a very careful observer of farming there. The local quintal weighs from a hundred and fifty to two hundred Paris pounds, averaging a hundred and seventy-five Paris pounds. That puts the price per English hundred weight at about eight shillings sterling. This is less than a fourth of the usual price of brown or muscovada sugar imported from our colonies, and less than a sixth of the price of the finest white sugar. Most cultivated land in Cochin China grows corn and rice, the food of most people. The prices of corn, rice, and sugar there are probably in their natural relation: the relation usually found among crops grown on most cultivated land. It pays the landlord and farmer roughly in line with the usual initial cost of preparing land and annual cost of cultivation. But in our sugar colonies the price of sugar has no such relation to the crop from a rice field or cornfield in Europe or America. People commonly say a sugar planter expects rum and molasses to cover every cultivation expense, leaving the sugar as pure profit. I do not claim this is true. But if it is, it would be like a corn farmer expecting the chaff and straw to cover all growing costs and the grain to be pure profit. Groups of merchants in London and other trading towns often buy unused land in our sugar colonies. They expect to improve and farm it profitably through factors and agents despite the great distance and the uncertainty of returns caused by poor administration of justice there. Nobody tries to improve and farm even the most fertile land in Scotland, Ireland, or the corn provinces of North America in this way. The better administration of justice there would make returns more reliable.
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, growers favor tobacco over corn because it is more profitable. Tobacco could be grown profitably in most of Europe. But nearly every European country taxes it heavily. Governments have apparently thought it harder to collect a tax from each farm that might grow tobacco than to tax imports at the customs house. For this reason, tobacco growing has been quite absurdly banned in most of Europe. The ban gives a kind of monopoly to places where growing it is allowed. Virginia and Maryland, as the largest producers, enjoy a large share of this monopoly's benefits, though they have some competitors. Growing tobacco, however, does not seem as profitable as growing sugar. I have never even heard of a tobacco plantation developed and farmed with capital belonging to merchants living in Great Britain. Nor do our tobacco colonies send home wealthy planters like those who often arrive from our sugar islands. Tobacco's preference over corn in those colonies suggests that European demand from buyers able to pay its ordinary costs is not fully met. But that demand is probably closer to being met than the demand for sugar. Today's tobacco price is probably more than enough to pay the rent, wages, and profit needed to prepare it and bring it to market at the rates usually paid on corn land. Yet it cannot be as far above those costs as the current price of sugar is. Our tobacco planters have accordingly shown the same fear of too much tobacco that established French vineyard owners have of too much wine. By an act of assembly, they have limited cultivation to six thousand plants, expected to yield a thousand weight of tobacco, for every negro between sixteen and sixty years of age. They calculate that, in addition to this tobacco, such a person can tend four acres of Indian corn. To prevent an oversupply in good years, we are told by Dr Douglas [Douglas’s Summary, vol. ii. p. 379, 373.] that they have sometimes burned a fixed quantity of tobacco for every negro, as the Dutch are said to do with spices. I suspect his information is wrong. If such drastic measures are needed to maintain tobacco's present price, whatever extra advantage its cultivation still has over corn will probably not last long.
This is how rent from cultivated land producing food for people sets the rent of most other cultivated land. No particular crop can pay less for long, because its land would immediately be put to another use. If a crop regularly pays more, it is because too little land can be made suitable for it to meet demand from buyers able to pay its ordinary costs.
In Europe, corn is the main crop that feeds people directly. Except in special locations, rent from cornfields therefore sets rent for all other cultivated land in Europe. Britain need not envy France's vineyards or Italy's olive groves. Except in special locations, their value is set by the value of corn, and Britain's land is not much less fertile for corn than land in either country.
Suppose a country's usual and favorite plant food came from a crop that ordinary land could grow in much greater quantities than even the best corn land, using the same or almost the same methods. Landlords would necessarily receive much higher rent, measured as the extra food remaining after paying workers and replacing the farmer's stock along with its ordinary profits. Whatever it usually cost to support workers in that country, this larger surplus could support more of them. The landlord could therefore buy or command more labor. His rent would have much greater real value. He would have more power and authority, and greater access to the necessities and comforts that other people's labor could supply.
A rice field produces much more food than even the most fertile cornfield. An acre is said to produce two harvests a year, each of thirty to sixty bushels. Growing rice takes more labor, but after supporting the workers, a much larger surplus remains. Where rice is people's usual and favorite plant food and is the main food of those growing it, landlords should therefore receive a larger share of this larger surplus than landlords in corn-growing countries. In Carolina, planters, as in other British colonies, are generally both farmers and landlords, so rent and profit are combined. There, rice growing is found to be more profitable than corn growing. This is so even though their fields produce only one harvest a year and European customs mean rice is not the people's usual and favorite plant food.
A good rice field is swampy throughout the year and covered with water during one season. It is unsuitable for corn, pasture, vineyards, or indeed any other plant crop of much use to people. Land suitable for those other purposes is unsuitable for rice. Even in rice-growing countries, then, rent from rice fields cannot set rent for other cultivated land, which can never be used to grow 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 greater a harvest than two thousand weight of wheat. Potatoes contain much water, so the amount of solid food each crop yields is not exactly proportional to its weight. But even if we count half the weight of the potatoes as water—a very generous allowance—an acre still yields six thousand weight of solid nourishment. That is three times the wheat yield. An acre of potatoes costs less to cultivate than an acre of wheat. The fallow period that usually comes before wheat sowing more than makes up for the hoeing and other extra care potatoes always need. If potatoes ever became people's usual and favorite plant food anywhere in Europe, as rice is in some countries, they might occupy the share of cultivated land now used for wheat and other food grains. The same area of farmland would then support many more people. Because workers would generally eat potatoes, a larger surplus would remain after replacing all the stock and supporting everyone employed in cultivation. Landlords would also receive a larger share of that surplus. Population would grow and rents would rise far above their present levels.
Land suitable for potatoes is also suitable for nearly every other useful plant crop. If potatoes occupied the same share of farmland that corn does now, they would likewise set the rent of most other cultivated land.
I have been told that some people in Lancashire claim oatmeal bread gives workers more strength than wheat bread. I have often heard the same claim in Scotland. But I somewhat doubt it. Ordinary people in Scotland who eat oatmeal are generally neither as strong nor as good-looking as people of the same class in England, who eat wheat bread. They do not work as well or look as well. There is no comparable difference among fashionable people in the two countries. Experience thus seems to show that the ordinary Scottish diet suits human bodies less well than the diet of their English counterparts. Potatoes appear to be different. London's chairmen, porters, and coal-heavers, and the unfortunate women there who live by prostitution, are said to come mostly from the poorest people of Ireland, who generally eat potatoes. They may be the strongest men and most beautiful women in the British dominions. No food could give clearer evidence that it is nutritious and especially well suited to human health.
Potatoes are hard to keep through the year and impossible to store for two or three years as corn can be stored. Farmers worry that they will rot before they can be sold. This discourages potato growing and may be the main reason potatoes have not become, like bread, the chief plant food of all social classes in any large country.
Part II.—On Produce of Land That Sometimes Provides Rent and Sometimes Does Not.
Food for people 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, depending on circumstances.
After food, people's two main needs are clothing and shelter.
Land in its original, undeveloped condition can provide clothing and building materials for far more people than it can feed. Once developed, it can sometimes feed more people than it can supply with those materials, at least in the forms people want and will pay for. In the first condition there is always an excess of materials, which often have little or no value. In the second, there is often a shortage, which raises their value. In the first condition much is thrown away as useless. What is used is worth no more than the work and expense of making it usable, so it provides the landlord no rent. In the second, people use all of it and often want more than is available. Someone is always willing to pay more for each portion than the cost of bringing it to market. Its price can therefore provide the landlord some rent.
The skins of large animals were the first clothing materials. Among hunting and herding peoples, who chiefly eat the meat of these animals, each person securing food also secures materials for more clothing than he can wear. Without foreign trade, most of the skins would be thrown away as worthless. That was probably true of North America's hunting peoples before Europeans discovered their country. They now exchange their surplus animal skins for blankets, firearms, and brandy, giving the skins some value. In the world's present state of trade, I believe that even the peoples regarded as most uncivilized, where landownership exists, trade abroad in this way. Wealthier neighbors demand the clothing materials their land produces that cannot be made into goods or used at home. This demand raises their price above the cost of sending them to those neighbors and thus gives the landlord some rent. When most Highland cattle were eaten in their own hills, exported hides were the region's chief item of trade. What the hides brought in added something to rent from Highland estates. In earlier times, England could not use or process all its wool at home. It found a market in Flanders, then a richer and more industrious country, and its price added something to the rent of the land that produced it. But imagine countries no better cultivated than England was then, or the Scottish Highlands are now, without foreign trade. Clothing materials there would plainly be so abundant that much would be thrown away as useless, and none could bring the landlord rent.
Building materials cannot always be carried as far as clothing materials and are less readily traded abroad. When they are abundant where they are produced, they often have no value to the landlord, even in today's trading world. A good stone quarry near London would bring in substantial rent. In many parts of Scotland and Wales it brings in none. Wood for building is very valuable in a densely settled, well-cultivated country, and land producing it brings in substantial rent. But in many parts of North America, landowners would thank anyone willing to carry off most of their large trees. In some parts of the Scottish Highlands, a lack of roads and water transport means only the bark can reach a market. The timber is left to rot on the ground. When building materials are so abundant, the amount used is worth only the work and expense of preparing it. It brings the landlord no rent. He generally lets anyone use it who takes the trouble to ask. Demand from richer countries, though, sometimes lets him collect rent. Paving London's streets has allowed the owners of some barren Scottish coastal rocks to collect rent from them for the first time. Woods in Norway and along the Baltic coast supply markets in many parts of Great Britain that they could not find at home, and thereby give their owners some rent.
A country's population depends not on how many people its land can clothe and house but on how many it can feed. Where food is available, necessary clothing and shelter are easy to find. But even when clothing and shelter are readily available, food can be hard to find. In some parts of the British dominions, one man can build what is called a house in a day's work. The simplest clothing, animal skins, takes a little more work to prepare for wearing, but still not much. Among peoples considered savage or barbarous, a hundredth, or little more than a hundredth, of all the year's labor is enough to provide clothing and shelter that satisfy most people. The other ninety-nine parts of that labor are often barely enough to feed them.
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 better farming allows one family's labor to feed two families, half the society can grow enough food for everyone. The other half, or at least most of them, can provide other things and satisfy people's other needs and desires. Clothing, housing, household furniture, and what is called equipage are the main objects of these needs and desires. A rich person does not eat more food than a poor neighbor. The quality can differ greatly, and choosing and preparing it may take more work and skill. But the quantity is nearly the same. Compare the rich person's spacious palace and large wardrobe with the poor person's hut and few rags. The difference in the quantities of their clothes, housing, and furniture is almost as great as the difference in quality. A person's appetite for food is limited by the small size of the human stomach. But the desire for comfortable and decorative buildings, clothes, equipage, and furniture seems to have no fixed limit. People who control more food than they can eat are therefore always willing to exchange the extra food, or the money they receive for it, for such things. Once their limited appetite is satisfied, they spend the remainder to satisfy wants that seem endless. To obtain food, poor people work to satisfy the rich people's desires. To obtain it more reliably, they compete to make their work both cheaper and better. As land is improved and farmed more thoroughly, more food is produced and the number of workers grows. Their work allows labor to be divided into very small tasks. As a result, the quantity of materials they can process grows much faster than their number. This creates demand for every kind of material people can find useful or decorative in buildings, clothing, equipage, or furniture. It includes fossils and minerals from underground, precious metals, and precious stones.
Thus food is not only the original source of rent. Every other product of land that later brings in rent owes that part of its value to improved labor productivity in growing food, made possible by better use and cultivation of land.
But those other products of land do not always bring in rent. Even in developed, cultivated countries, demand for them does not always make their price high enough to pay labor costs, replace the stock used to bring them to market, and provide the ordinary profit on that stock, with something left over. Whether it does depends on several circumstances.
Whether a coal mine can bring in rent, for instance, depends partly on how productive it is and partly on its location.
A mine of any kind can be called productive or unproductive depending on whether a given amount of labor extracts more or less mineral from it than the same labor extracts from most other mines of that kind.
Some coal mines are well located but so unproductive that they cannot be worked. Their output does not cover their costs. They can provide neither profit nor rent.
The output of other mines just covers labor costs and replaces the stock used to work them, along with its ordinary profit. The operator earns some profit, but the landlord gets no rent. Only a landlord can work such a mine profitably: as its operator, he earns the normal profit on the capital he puts into it. Many Scottish coal mines operate this way and could not operate any other way. The landlord will not let someone else work the mine without paying rent, and no one can afford to pay it.
Other Scottish coal mines are productive enough but cannot be worked because of their location. An ordinary amount of labor, or even less, could extract enough coal to cover the cost of mining. But in a sparsely populated inland area without good roads or water transport, that coal could not be sold.
Coal is less pleasant to burn than wood, and people also say it is less healthy. Coal must therefore usually cost somewhat less than wood where it is burned.
The price of wood, in turn, changes as farming develops, much as the price of cattle does, and for exactly the same reason. When agriculture is just beginning, woods cover most land. They are merely an obstacle, worth nothing to the landlord, who would gladly give them away to anyone willing to cut them down. As agriculture advances, cultivation clears some woods and growing cattle herds cause others to decline. Cattle do not multiply as fast as corn, which is entirely produced through human work. Still, people help cattle multiply. They store food from abundant seasons to feed them during shortages. Throughout the year they give them more food than wild land supplies. They also destroy the animals that prey on them, allowing them to use freely all that nature provides. When large herds wander through woods, they may not destroy old trees, but they prevent new ones from growing. In a century or two, the whole forest dies out. Wood then becomes scarce and its price rises. It brings in good rent. The landlord sometimes finds that even his best land can scarcely be used more profitably than to grow building timber. The large profit often makes up for the long wait before any return. This seems to describe several parts of Great Britain today, where planting trees is found to be as profitable as growing corn or keeping pasture. A landlord's advantage from planting trees can nowhere exceed the rent he could get from those uses for any long period. In a well-cultivated inland region it is often nearly as much. But on the coast of a well-developed country, if coal is readily available for fuel, it may be cheaper to import building timber from less cultivated countries than to grow it locally. In Edinburgh's new town, built in the last few years, there may not be a single piece of Scottish timber.
Whatever wood costs, if a coal fire costs nearly as much as a wood fire, we can be sure coal is as expensive as it can be in that place and situation. That seems true in some inland parts of England, particularly Oxfordshire. Even ordinary people there commonly mix coal and wood in their fires, so the cost difference between the two fuels cannot be large. In coal-producing areas, coal is everywhere far below this maximum price. Otherwise it could not be transported any distance, by land or water, at a price buyers would pay. Only a small amount could be sold. Coal operators and owners find it more profitable to sell a large amount at a little above the lowest possible price than a small amount at the highest price. The most productive coal mine also sets the coal price at neighboring mines. Its owner can get more rent, and its operator more profit, by selling for somewhat less than all their neighbors. The neighbors must soon charge the same price, though they can less easily afford it. Doing so always cuts their rent and profit and sometimes eliminates both. Some mines close entirely. Others can bring in no rent and can be worked only by their owners.
As with every other product, the lowest price at which coal can be sold for a substantial time just covers replacing the stock used to bring it to market and earning ordinary profit on that stock. At a mine that yields the landlord no rent, which he must work himself or leave idle, coal will usually cost about that much.
Even where coal brings in rent, rent generally accounts for less of its price than it does for most other raw products of land. Rent from land above ground commonly amounts to what is considered a third of total output. It is generally a fixed amount regardless of temporary changes in the harvest. For a coal mine, a fifth of total output is very high rent, while a tenth is normal. The amount is seldom fixed and changes with the mine's output. These changes are so large that in a country where paying thirty years' rent is considered a moderate price for ownership of landed property, paying ten years' rent is considered a good price for a coal mine.
A coal mine's value to its owner often depends as much on its location as on its productivity. A metal mine's value depends more on its productivity and less on its location. Once separated from the ore, both ordinary metals and, especially, precious metals are valuable enough to bear the cost of very long transport over land and even the longest sea journeys. Their market extends far beyond the countries near the mine, across the whole world. Japanese copper is traded in Europe, and Spanish iron in Chili and Peru. Silver from Peru goes not only to Europe but also from Europe to China.
The coal price in Westmoreland or Shropshire has little effect on the coal price at Newcastle, and the price in the Lionnois has none. Coal from mines so far apart cannot compete in the same market. Metal from distant mines often can, and usually does.
So the price of ordinary metals, and still more of precious metals, at the world's most productive mines must affect their price to some extent at every other mine. The price of Japanese copper must influence its price at European copper mines. The price of silver in Peru—how much labor or other goods it buys there—must influence its price at silver mines in Europe and even China. After the Peruvian mines were discovered, most European silver mines were abandoned. Silver's value had fallen so far that their output could no longer pay the cost of mining or replace, with a profit, the food, clothes, shelter, and other necessities used in that work. The same happened to the mines of Cuba and St. Domingo, and even to Peru's old mines, after the discovery of those at Potosi. Because the price of each metal at every mine is influenced by its price at the most productive operating mine in the world, the price at most mines can do little more than cover mining costs. It seldom gives the landlord very high rent. Accordingly, rent seems to account for only a small part of the price of ordinary metals at most mines, and an even smaller part of the price of precious metals. Labor and profit account for most of both prices.
The Rev. Mr Borlace, vice-warden of the stannaries, says the average rent at Cornwall's tin mines, the most productive known, may be reckoned as a sixth of total output. Some mines pay more, he says, and some less. Several very productive lead mines in Scotland also pay a sixth of total output in rent.
Frezier and Ulloa tell us that the owner of a silver mine in Peru often requires nothing from the mine's operator except that he grind the ore at the owner's mill and pay the usual multure, or grinding charge. Until 1736, however, the king of Spain taxed standard silver at one fifth. That tax could then be considered the actual rent from most Peruvian silver mines, the richest ever known. Without the tax, that fifth would naturally have gone to the landowner, and many mines that could not pay 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 part of its value. Whatever its amount, it too would naturally go to the mine owner if tin were untaxed. Add one twentieth to one sixth and you find that the ratio of the whole average rent from Cornwall's tin mines to the whole average rent from Peru's silver mines was thirteen to twelve. But Peru's silver mines cannot now pay even that low rent. In 1736 the silver tax was reduced from one fifth to one tenth. Even that tax gives more incentive to smuggle than a one-twentieth tax on tin. Smuggling precious silver must also be much easier than smuggling bulky tin. Accordingly, the Spanish king's tax is said to be paid very poorly, while the duke of Cornwall's is paid very well. It is therefore likely that rent makes up a larger part of the price of tin from the most productive tin mines than of silver from the most productive silver mines in the world. After the stock used to work the mines has been replaced with its ordinary profit, the amount left for the owner appears larger for the ordinary metal than for the precious one.
Operators of silver mines in Peru do not usually earn great profits either. The same highly respected and well-informed authors tell us that anyone who undertakes to work a new mine there is universally viewed as headed for bankruptcy and ruin. People avoid him for that reason. Mining there, as here, seems to be regarded as a lottery in which the prizes do not make up for the losing tickets. Yet the size of some prizes tempts many people to waste their fortunes on these unlikely ventures.
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
The sovereign gets a considerable share of revenue from silver mines. So the law in Peru strongly encourages people to find and work new ones. Anyone who finds a new mine may mark out a stretch two hundred and forty-six feet long, following what they think is the direction of the vein, and half that distance wide. That person owns this part of the mine and can work it without paying the landowner anything. The duke of Cornwall's interest led to a similar rule in that old duchy. On waste and unenclosed land, anyone who finds a tin mine can mark out an area of a specified size. This is called bounding a mine. The person who marks it out becomes its actual owner. They can work it or lease it to someone else without the landowner's consent, though they must pay that owner a very small amount when they work it. Both rules sacrifice the sacred rights of private property for what are supposed to be the interests of public revenue.
Peru offers the same encouragement to find and work new gold mines. On gold, the king's tax is only a twentieth part of the standard rental. It used to be a fifth, then a tenth, as with silver. But it turned out that the work could not support even the lower of those two taxes. Frezier and Ulloa, the same authors, say that few people make their fortunes from silver mines, and still fewer from gold mines. This twentieth part seems to be all the rent paid by most gold mines in Chili and Peru. Gold is also much easier to smuggle than silver. It is worth more for its size, and the way it occurs in nature makes it easier to hide. Silver is rarely found in a pure state. Like most metals, it is usually combined with another substance. Separating it in amounts that cover the cost takes a long, laborious process. This generally requires special workhouses where the king's officers can inspect it. Gold, by contrast, is almost always found pure. Sometimes it comes in sizable pieces. Even when tiny, barely visible particles are mixed with sand, earth, and other materials, they can be separated quickly and simply. Anyone with a little mercury can do this in a private house. If people pay the king's tax poorly on silver, they probably pay it even less on gold. Rent must therefore make up a much smaller part of gold's price than of silver's.
The same principles that set the lowest normal price of other goods also set the lowest price at which precious metals can be sold for a substantial period. That is the smallest amount of other goods they can be exchanged for over that time. The stock normally needed to get them from mine to market, along with the food, clothes, and lodging normally consumed in doing so, determines that price. It must at least replace the stock and yield ordinary profits.
Their highest price, however, seems to depend only on how scarce or plentiful the metals themselves are. No other good limits it in the way that the price of wood limits the price of coal: no shortage can push coal beyond that limit. Make gold scarce enough, and even its smallest piece might become more precious than a diamond and buy more other goods.
People want these metals partly because they are useful and partly because they are beautiful. Apart from iron, they may be more useful than any other metals. They resist rust and dirt, so they are easier to keep clean. For this reason, table and kitchen utensils made from them are often more pleasant. A silver boiler is cleaner than one of lead, copper, or tin; a gold boiler would be cleaner still. But their main attraction is their beauty, which makes them especially suitable for decorating clothing and furniture. No paint or dye shines as brilliantly as gilding. Scarcity adds greatly to the appeal of their beauty. For most rich people, the chief pleasure of wealth lies in displaying it. They feel that the display is most complete when they show unmistakable signs of wealth that only they can afford. In their eyes, scarcity or the great labor needed to gather a large quantity makes any useful or beautiful thing much more desirable. Only people like them can pay for that labor. They will pay more for such objects than for things that are much more beautiful and useful but more common. Usefulness, beauty, and scarcity originally gave these metals their high price: they could be exchanged everywhere for a great quantity of other goods. Their value existed before they were used as coins and did not depend on that use. Indeed, that value made them suitable for coins. Using them as coins may later have sustained or raised their value by creating new demand and leaving less for other uses.
People want precious stones entirely for their beauty. They have no use except decoration. Their scarcity, and the difficulty and expense of extracting them, add greatly to the appeal of that beauty. Wages and profit therefore make up almost all of their high price in most cases. Rent accounts for very little, often nothing. Only the most productive mines yield any substantial 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 those yielding the largest and finest stones closed. Apparently the others were not worth working for their owner.
The prices of precious metals and stones throughout the world are governed by their prices at the most productive mines. So the rent a mine can pay its owner depends not on its absolute productivity but on its relative productivity: how much better it is than other mines of its kind. If mines were found that surpassed those of Potosi as much as Potosi's surpassed Europe's, silver could lose so much value that even the mines of Potosi would not be worth working. Before the discovery of the Spanish West Indies, Europe's most productive mines may have paid their owners as much rent as Peru's richest mines do now. The quantity of silver was much smaller, but it might have bought just as many other goods. The owner's share might have commanded just as much labor or as many goods.
The value of both the output and the rent—the real revenue they gave to the public and the owner—might have been the same.
Even the most plentiful mines of precious metals or stones could add little to the world's wealth. When something gets most of its value from scarcity, abundance reduces that value. People could buy a set of silver plate and other frivolous decorations for clothing and furniture with fewer goods. That would be the only advantage the world would gain from such abundance.
Land above ground is different. The value of its output and rent depends on its absolute productivity, not how productive it is compared with other land. Land that produces a given amount of food, clothing, and lodging can always support a given number of people. Whatever share goes to the landlord gives the landlord a corresponding claim on those people's labor and on the goods their labor can provide. The poorest land does not lose value because highly productive land is nearby. Usually it gains value. The many people supported by the good land provide a market for some of the poor land's produce that the people supported by the poor land could never provide on their own.
Anything that makes land more productive of food raises not just the value of the improved land, but also the value of many other plots by creating demand for their produce. When land is improved, many people have more food available than they need for themselves. That surplus is the main reason people want precious metals, precious stones, and every other useful or decorative item for clothing, homes, furniture, and carriages. Food makes up the principal part of the world's wealth. An abundance of food also gives much other wealth most of its value. When the Spaniards first encountered the poor inhabitants of Cuba and St. Domingo, the inhabitants wore small pieces of gold in their hair and on their clothing. They seemed to value the pieces as we would value slightly prettier-than-usual pebbles: worth picking up, but not worth refusing to anyone who asked for them. They handed them to their new guests as soon as they asked, apparently without thinking the gift was valuable. They were astonished at the Spaniards' eagerness for gold. They did not imagine that anywhere many people had so much surplus food—food was always scarce among them—that they would gladly give enough to feed a whole family for many years in exchange for a very small quantity of glittering trinkets. If they could have understood this, the Spaniards' eagerness would not have surprised them.
PART III—How the Relative Values Change between Produce That Always Pays Rent and Produce That Sometimes Pays Rent and Sometimes Does Not
As improvements and cultivation increase the food supply, demand must rise for every other useful or decorative product of the land. Throughout this process, we might therefore expect just one change in the relative values of these two kinds of produce. The value of produce that sometimes pays rent and sometimes does not should steadily rise compared with the value of produce that always pays rent. As skills and industry develop, materials for clothing and housing, useful minerals and materials from the earth, precious metals, and precious stones should all be increasingly wanted. They should buy more and more food; in other words, they should grow more expensive. That has usually happened with most of them. It would always have happened with all of them if particular events had not sometimes increased the supply of some even faster than demand.
For example, as the surrounding country develops and its population grows, a freestone quarry must gain value, especially if it is the only one nearby. A silver mine need not gain value as the country around it develops, even if there is no other silver mine within a thousand miles. A freestone quarry's market rarely stretches more than a few miles. Demand for its stone generally follows the development and population of that small area. A silver mine's market, however, may cover the whole known world. Unless the world as a whole grows in population and development, even great advances in a large country near the mine might not increase demand for silver at all. And even if the world does develop, new mines much richer than any previously known may be found during that development. Demand for silver would rise, but supply might rise so much faster that silver's real price would gradually fall. A given quantity—say, a pound weight—would then buy less and less labor, or less and less corn, the main part of a laborer's food.
Silver's great market is the commercial and civilized part of the world.
Suppose general development raises demand in this market, but supply does not rise as fast. Silver's value would gradually rise relative to corn. A given quantity of silver would buy increasing amounts of corn. Put another way, the average money price of corn would steadily fall.
Suppose instead that, by some chance, supply rises faster than demand for many years. Silver would steadily grow cheaper. In other words, the average money price of corn would steadily rise despite improvements.
But if silver's supply rises at roughly the same rate as demand, it will keep buying roughly the same amount of corn. The average money price of corn will stay almost unchanged despite improvements.
These three possibilities appear to cover everything that can happen as development proceeds. Judging by events in France and Great Britain, each appears to have occurred in the European market during the four centuries before the present, and in roughly the order I have just given.
A Digression on Changes in the Value of Silver over the Last Four Centuries
First Period—In 1350 and for some time earlier, the average price of a quarter of wheat in England seems to have been no less than four ounces of silver, Tower weight, equal to about twenty shillings in our present money. It seems gradually to have fallen to two ounces of silver, equal to about ten shillings in our present money. That was its estimated price at the start of the sixteenth century, and it seems to have remained so 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 law called the Statute of Laborers was passed. Its opening complained strongly about servants who tried to raise their wages at their masters' expense. It therefore ordered all servants and laborers to accept the same wages and liveries they had received in the king's 20th year and the four years before that. At the time, liveries meant food as well as clothes. Their allowance of wheat was to be valued nowhere above tenpence a bushel, and the master could choose whether to give them wheat or money. So in the 25th year of Edward III, tenpence a bushel was considered a very moderate wheat price. A special law was needed to make servants accept it in place of their customary food allowance. It had also counted as a reasonable price ten years before, in the king's 16th year, which the law refers to. But in the 16th year of Edward III, tenpence contained about half an ounce of silver, Tower weight, and was worth nearly half-a-crown in our present money. Four ounces of silver, Tower weight, equaled six shillings and eightpence in the money of that time, or nearly twenty shillings in today's money. That must have counted as a moderate price for a quarter of eight bushels.
This law is surely better evidence of what people then regarded as a moderate grain price than prices recorded for particular years. Historians and other writers usually recorded those years because they were unusually expensive or cheap. We cannot easily judge an ordinary price from them. Other evidence also suggests that at the start of the fourteenth century, and for some time earlier, wheat normally cost no less than four ounces of silver per quarter, with other grains priced in proportion.
In 1309, Ralph de Born, prior of St Augustine's, Canterbury, held a feast on the day he took office. William Thorn preserved both the menu and prices of many items. The feast used, 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, it used fifty-eight quarters of malt costing seventeen pounds ten shillings, or six shillings a quarter, equal to about eighteen shillings in our present money. Third, it used 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 appear more expensive relative to wheat than usual.
These prices were not recorded because they were unusually high or low. They appear incidentally as the prices actually paid for large quantities of grain at a feast famous for its splendor.
In 1262, the 51st year of Henry III, an old law called the assize of bread and ale was revived. Its opening says it had been made under the king's ancestors, former kings of England. It was probably at least as old as his grandfather Henry II and may date back to the Conquest. It sets the price of bread for wheat prices from one shilling to twenty shillings a quarter in the money of that time. Laws like this are usually assumed to provide equally for departures above and below the middle price. 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 for a quarter of wheat when the law was first passed. It must still have been so in the 51st year of Henry III. It is therefore reasonable to assume that the middle price was at least one-third of the highest wheat price covered by this law's bread-price rules. That is six shillings and eightpence in the money of that time, containing four ounces of silver, Tower weight.
Taken together, these facts give us reason to conclude that around the middle of the fourteenth century, and for a considerable time earlier, the usual or average price of a quarter of wheat was thought to be no less than four ounces of silver, Tower weight.
From about the middle of the fourteenth century to the beginning of the sixteenth, what was regarded as the reasonable and moderate price of wheat—its usual or average price—seems gradually to have fallen by half. Eventually it was about two ounces of silver, Tower weight, equal to about ten shillings in our present money. It was still estimated at that price until about 1570.
The household book of Henry, the fifth earl of Northumberland, prepared in 1512, gives two different valuations of wheat. One puts it at six shillings and eightpence a quarter; the other puts it at only five shillings and eightpence. In 1512, six shillings and eightpence contained only two ounces of silver, Tower weight, and equaled about ten shillings in our present money.
Several laws show that from the 25th year of Edward III to the start of Elizabeth's reign, a period of more than two hundred years, six shillings and eightpence remained what people called the moderate and reasonable price of wheat. That meant its usual or average price. Yet during this period changes to the coinage continually reduced the silver contained in that stated sum of money. The rise in silver's value seems to have made up enough for this loss that lawmakers did not think it necessary to account for it.
For example, in 1436 a law allowed wheat exports without a license when the price was as low as six shillings and eightpence. In 1463 another law banned wheat imports unless the price exceeded six shillings and eightpence a quarter. Lawmakers thought exports would do no harm when the price was that low, but that imports should be allowed when it rose higher. So at that time six shillings and eightpence was considered a moderate and reasonable wheat price. It contained about as much silver as thirteen shillings and fourpence in our present money, one-third less than the same stated sum had contained under Edward III.
In 1554, under the 1st and 2nd of Philip and Mary, and in 1558, under the 1st of Elizabeth, exports of wheat were likewise banned whenever a quarter cost more than six shillings and eightpence. That sum then contained no more than two penny worth more silver than the same stated sum contains now. But lawmakers soon found that restricting exports until wheat was so cheap effectively banned exports altogether. So in 1562, under the 5th of Elizabeth, exports from certain ports were allowed whenever a quarter cost no more than ten shillings. That sum contained nearly as much silver as the same stated sum does now. Thus ten shillings was then regarded as the moderate and reasonable wheat price. It is close to the valuation in the Northumberland book of 1512.
Mr Dupré de St Maur and the accomplished author of the Essay on the Policy of Grain have both noted that France's average grain price was much lower at the end of the fifteenth century and the beginning of the sixteenth than during the two centuries before. Grain prices probably fell similarly across most of Europe during that period.
Silver's rise in value relative to corn could have come entirely from growing demand for the metal as land was developed and cultivated, while supply remained unchanged. Or it could have come entirely from falling supply while demand remained unchanged. Most known mines might have become badly depleted, making them much more expensive to work. Or both causes might have played a part. By the end of the fifteenth century and the beginning of the sixteenth, most of Europe was approaching a more stable form of government than it had known for several centuries. Greater security would naturally encourage industry and improvement. Growing wealth would naturally raise demand for precious metals and for every other luxury and ornament. Greater annual output would need more coins to circulate it. More rich people would want more silver plate and other decorations. It is also natural to suppose that most mines then supplying silver to the European market had become somewhat depleted and more costly to work. Many had been worked since Roman times.
Nevertheless, most writers on the prices of goods in ancient times have believed that silver steadily lost value from the Conquest, perhaps even from Julius Caesar's invasion, until the discovery of the American mines. They seem to have reached this view partly from their observations of corn prices and prices of other raw land products. Another influence was the common assumption that as wealth grows, the amount of silver in a country naturally grows, and its value falls as its amount grows.
Three things seem often to have led these writers astray when they examined corn prices.
First, in ancient times almost all rent was paid in goods: a specified quantity of corn, cattle, poultry, and so forth. Sometimes, however, the landlord reserved the right to demand either the annual payment in goods or a fixed sum of money instead. In Scotland, the price at which that payment in goods is replaced by money is called the conversion price. Since the landlord may choose between the goods and the money, the tenant needs protection. The conversion price should therefore be below, not above, the average market price. In many places it is little more than half that price. This practice still applies to poultry across most of Scotland, and to cattle in some places. It might also have survived for corn if the public fiars had not put an end to it. These are yearly assessments, made by an assize, of the average price of each kind and quality of grain based on actual market prices in each county. They made it safe enough for tenants, and much more convenient for landlords, to convert the corn rent at each year's fiars price rather than at a fixed price. But collectors of ancient corn prices seem often to have mistaken what the Scots call the conversion price for the actual market price. Fleetwood admits that he once made this mistake. Since he wrote his book for a particular purpose, however, he does not admit it until after copying the conversion price fifteen times. It was eight shillings a quarter of wheat. In 1423, the first year for which he uses it, that sum contained as much silver as sixteen shillings in our present money. But by 1562, the last year for which he uses it, it contained no more than the same stated sum does now.
Second, they have been misled by the careless way some old price-regulation laws were copied by lazy scribes, and sometimes perhaps even written by lawmakers.
The old assize laws appear always to have started by setting bread and ale prices when wheat and barley were at their cheapest. They then set the prices as those grains became progressively more expensive. But scribes often seem to have thought it enough to copy only the rules for the first three or four lowest prices. This saved them work; they presumably thought it showed the proper relationship for all higher prices.
For instance, in the assize of bread and ale from the 51st year of Henry III, the bread price was set for wheat prices ranging from one shilling to twenty shillings a quarter in the money of that time. But in the manuscripts used to print every edition of the laws before Mr Ruffhead's, the scribes stopped copying the rule at twelve shillings. Misled by that incomplete copy, several writers naturally concluded that the middle price, six shillings a quarter—equal to about eighteen shillings in our present money—was then the usual or average wheat price.
The statute of Tumbrel and Pillory, passed at about the same time, sets ale prices for each sixpence rise in barley prices from two shillings to four shillings a quarter. But four shillings was not considered the highest price barley would commonly reach. The stated prices merely show the relationship to apply at other prices, higher or lower. We can tell this from the law's last words: “Et sic deinceps crescetur vel diminuetur per sex denarios.” The wording is very careless, but its meaning is clear enough: “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.” The lawmakers seem to have drafted this statute as carelessly as the scribes copied the other one.
An old manuscript of the Regiam Majestatem, an old Scottish law book, contains an assize law setting bread prices for wheat prices from tenpence to three shillings per Scotch boll, about half an English quarter. When this assize is thought to have been passed, three shillings Scotch 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 wheat price of the time, while tenpence, a shilling, or at most two shillings were the usual prices. But the manuscript clearly shows that all these prices are just examples of the relationship between wheat and bread prices. The law ends: “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.”
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, very low prices at which wheat was sometimes sold in very early times also seem to have misled them. They assumed that because its lowest price was much lower then than later, its ordinary price must have been much lower too. But they could have found that its highest price in those early times was just as far above later prices as its lowest price was below them. Fleetwood, for example, records two prices for a quarter of wheat in 1270. One was four pounds sixteen shillings in the money of that time, equal to fourteen pounds eight shillings in our present money. The other was six pounds eight shillings, equal to nineteen pounds four shillings in our present money. No price near these extraordinary levels can be found at the end of the fifteenth or the beginning of the sixteenth century. Corn prices can always change, but they change most in unsettled, disorderly societies. When trade and travel are interrupted, plentiful supplies in one district cannot make up for shortages in another. The Plantagenets ruled England from about the middle of the twelfth century until near the end of the fifteenth. In those disorderly times, one district might have plenty while another close by suffered all the horrors of famine after a crop failed because of the weather or an attack by a neighboring baron. If a hostile lord's land lay between them, the first district might be unable to help the second at all. Under the firm rule of the Tudors, who governed England in the latter part of the fifteenth century and all through the sixteenth, no baron was powerful enough to dare threaten public safety.
At the end of this chapter readers will find all the wheat prices Fleetwood gathered from 1202 through 1597, inclusive. I have converted them into the money of our time and arranged them in chronological order in seven groups of twelve years each. Each group also gives the average price for its twelve years. Across that long period Fleetwood could find prices for only eighty years, leaving four years missing from the last group of twelve. So I added prices for 1598, 1599, 1600, and 1601 from the accounts of Eton college. Those are my only additions. Readers will see that the average for each twelve-year group falls steadily from the start of the thirteenth century until after the middle of the sixteenth, then begins to rise again toward the end of the sixteenth. Admittedly, Fleetwood seems mostly to have found prices worth recording because they were unusually high or low. I do not claim we can draw a very certain conclusion from them. Still, to the extent that they show anything, they support the account I have been giving. Fleetwood himself, like most other writers, seems to have thought silver's value fell continuously throughout this period as it became more abundant. The corn prices he collected certainly do not support that view. They fully support Mr Dupré de St Maur's view and the one I have been explaining. Bishop Fleetwood and Mr Dupré de St Maur seem to have been the most careful and reliable collectors of ancient prices. It is striking that their facts agree so closely, at least on corn prices, while their opinions differ so much.
Yet the most thoughtful writers have based their inference that silver was very valuable in those early times less on low corn prices than on the low prices of some other raw land products. People have said corn was a sort of manufactured product and therefore much more expensive than most other goods in those rough times. I assume they mean most other unmanufactured goods, such as cattle, poultry, game, and so forth. Those goods certainly were much cheaper relative to corn in times of poverty and little development. But they were cheap because they themselves had little value, not because silver had great value. Silver did not buy or represent more labor then; those goods bought or represented far less labor than in richer, more developed times. Silver must surely be cheaper in Spanish America, where it is produced, than in Europe, where it is brought after costly transport over land and sea, freight charges, and insurance. Nevertheless, Ulloa tells us that not many years ago an ox chosen from a herd of three or four hundred cost one-and-twenty pence halfpenny sterling at Buenos Ayres. Mr Byron says a good horse cost sixteen shillings sterling in the capital of Chili. Where land is naturally productive but most of it remains uncultivated, cattle, poultry, game, and the like take little labor to obtain and so command little labor in exchange. Their low money prices do not show that silver's real value is very high there. They show that the real value of those goods is very low.
We must always remember that labor, not any particular good or group of goods, is the real measure of the value of silver and everything else.
In countries that are mostly undeveloped or thinly populated, cattle, poultry, game, and the like arise naturally. Nature often produces far more of them than the inhabitants can consume. Supply therefore commonly exceeds demand. In different kinds of society and at different stages of development, these goods will consequently be worth very different amounts of labor.
At every stage of society and development, people must work to grow corn. The average output of any industry, however, more or less matches average consumption: average supply matches average demand. Also, growing the same amount of corn in the same soil and climate takes about the same amount of labor on average at different stages of development, or costs about the same price for that labor. Better farming continually raises labor's productive power, but the price of cattle, the main tools of agriculture, continually rises too and more or less offsets that gain. For all these reasons, the same amount of corn represents about the same amount of labor at every stage of society and development more closely than the same amount of any other raw land product does. As noted already, corn is therefore a more accurate measure of value than any other good or group of goods at every stage of wealth and development. We can judge silver's real value better by comparing it with corn than by comparing it with any other goods.
Corn, or whatever plant food people commonly favor, also makes up the main part of a laborer's food in every civilized country. As farming spreads, land everywhere produces far more plant food than animal food. Laborers mainly eat the wholesome food that is cheapest and most plentiful. Except in the richest countries or where labor is paid best, butcher's meat forms only a tiny part of their diet. Poultry forms an even smaller part, and game forms none. Working poor people in France, and even in Scotland where labor pays somewhat better than in France, rarely eat butcher's meat except on holidays and other special occasions. Money wages therefore depend much more on the average money price of corn, the laborer's chief food, than on the price of butcher's meat or any other raw land product. The real value of gold and silver—the amount of labor they can buy or command—thus depends far more on how much corn they can buy than on how much butcher's meat or any other raw land product they can buy.
Still, these limited observations of corn and other prices probably would not have misled so many intelligent writers without the popular belief that as a country grows wealthier, its silver supply naturally grows, and the silver loses value as its supply grows. But this belief seems completely unfounded.
A country's supply of precious metals can grow for two reasons. First, the mines supplying it may become more productive. Second, its people may become wealthier because their annual labor produces more. The first cause certainly reduces the metals' value. The second does not.
When more productive mines are found, more precious metal reaches the market. If the supply of life's necessities and comforts for which the metal can be exchanged remains unchanged, a given quantity of metal must buy fewer goods. Thus, insofar as a country's supply of precious metals grows because mines become more productive, their value must fall to some extent.
But when a country becomes wealthier and its workers produce more each year, it needs more coins to circulate more goods. People can also afford, and have more goods to exchange for, a steadily growing quantity of silver plate. Their coin holdings grow out of necessity. Their plate holdings grow out of vanity and display, or for the same reason that wealthy people acquire more fine statues, paintings, luxuries, and curiosities. Yet sculptors and painters are unlikely to be paid less in prosperous times than in poor times. Gold and silver are equally unlikely to fetch less.
Unless the chance discovery of more productive mines holds it down, the price of gold and silver naturally rises as a country grows richer. Whatever the condition of the mines, it is naturally higher at any given time in a rich country than in a poor one. Like all goods, gold and silver go where buyers pay the best price, usually the country best able to pay it. Remember that labor is the ultimate price paid for everything. Where workers are paid equally well in real terms, their money wages vary with the price of the food they live on. But gold and silver naturally buy more food in a rich country than in a poor one, because the rich country has plenty of food while the poor country has less. If the two countries are far apart, the difference can be very large. Even though the metals tend to move from the worse market to the better one, it may be difficult to move enough to bring their prices close together. If the countries are near each other, the difference will be smaller and may barely be noticed, because transport is easy. China is much richer than any part of Europe, and food prices differ greatly between China and Europe. Rice is much cheaper in China than wheat is anywhere in Europe. England is much richer than Scotland, but the difference in their money prices for corn is much smaller and only just noticeable. Measured by volume, Scotch corn generally appears quite a bit cheaper than English corn. Measured by quality, it is certainly somewhat dearer. Scotland receives very large supplies from England almost every year, and goods generally cost somewhat more where they are brought than where they come from. English corn must therefore cost more in Scotland than in England. Yet when allowance is made for quality—the quantity and goodness of the flour or meal it produces—it cannot generally sell in Scotland for more than the Scotch corn competing with it there.
Money wages differ even more between China and Europe than food prices do, because workers receive more in real terms in Europe than in China. Most of Europe is developing, while China appears to be standing still. Money wages are lower in Scotland than in England because real pay is much lower there. Scotland is growing wealthier, but much more slowly than England. The frequency with which people leave Scotland, and the rarity of their leaving England, clearly show that the demand for labor differs greatly between the countries. Remember that differences in real pay between countries are naturally determined not by how wealthy or poor they are now, but by whether they are advancing, standing still, or declining.
Gold and silver are naturally worth most among the richest nations and least among the poorest. Among peoples living outside developed society, the poorest of all nations, they are worth almost nothing.
Corn always costs more in large towns than in remote rural areas. This does not mean silver is really cheaper in towns. It means corn is really more expensive there. It takes no less labor to bring silver to a large town than to remote parts of the country, but it takes much more labor 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 some very rich trading countries, such as Holland and the territory of Genoa, corn is expensive for the same reason it is expensive in large towns. They do not grow enough to feed their people. They have wealth in the skills of their artisans and manufacturers, in machines that make work easier and faster, in ships, and in other means of transport and trade. But they lack corn. They must bring it from distant countries, so its price must also cover the cost of transport. Bringing silver to Amsterdam takes no less labor than bringing it to Dantzic, but bringing corn there takes much more. The real cost of silver must be nearly the same in both places, while the real cost of corn must differ greatly. Suppose Holland or the territory of Genoa became poorer without losing any people, and became less able to obtain supplies from distant countries. Its corn price would not fall along with its supply of silver, which would necessarily shrink either as a cause or a result of its decline. Instead, corn would rise to a famine price. When people lack necessities, they must give up luxuries. Luxuries gain value during prosperity and lose it during hardship. Necessities behave differently. Their real price—the amount of labor they can buy—rises during hardship and falls during prosperity. Prosperous times always bring plenty; without plenty, they could not be prosperous. Corn is a necessity; silver is only a luxury.
So any increase in precious metals caused by growing wealth and development between the middle of the fourteenth century and the middle of the sixteenth century could not have reduced their value in Great Britain or elsewhere in Europe. People who collected old prices had no reason, during this period, to conclude from corn prices or the prices of other goods that silver had lost value. They had even less reason to conclude it merely from an assumed increase in wealth and development.
Second Period.—Scholars have held many different views about changes in silver's value during the first period. But they agree about the second.
From about 1570 to about 1640, a period of about seventy years, the relationship between the values of silver and corn moved in the opposite direction. Silver fell in real value: it bought less labor than before. Corn rose in money price. Instead of commonly selling for about two ounces of silver a quarter, or about ten shillings of our present money, it came to sell for six and eight ounces a quarter, or about thirty and forty shillings of our present money.
The discovery of America's rich mines seems to have been the only cause of this fall in silver's value relative to corn. Everyone explains it this way, and neither the change nor its cause has been disputed. Most of Europe was developing its industry, so demand for silver must have been increasing. But supply apparently grew so much faster that silver lost considerable value. It is worth noting that the American mines do not seem to have noticeably affected prices in England until after 1570, even though the mines of Potosi had been discovered more than twenty years earlier.
According to the accounts of Eton college, from 1595 to 1620, both inclusive, the average Windsor market price for a quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat was £ 2:1:6 ⁹⁄₁₃. Ignore the fraction and subtract a ninth, or 4s. 7 ⅓d., and the price for a quarter of eight bushels becomes £ 1:16:10 ⅔. Then ignore that fraction too and subtract a ninth, or 4s. 1 ⅑d., to allow for the difference between the best and middle wheat. The resulting price for middle wheat is 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 for the same amount of the best wheat at the same market was £ 2:10s., according to those same accounts. Making the same deductions as before gives an average price for a quarter of eight bushels of middle wheat of £ 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 American mines seem to have completed their effect of reducing silver's value. Silver's value relative to corn appears never to have fallen lower than it was around then. It seems to have risen somewhat during the present century, and probably began rising before the end of the last.
From 1637 to 1700, both inclusive—the last sixty-four years of the last century—the average Windsor market price of a quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat was £ 2:11:0 ⅓, according to the same accounts. This was only 1s. 0 ⅓d. higher than during the previous sixteen years. But two events during those sixty-four years must have caused much greater corn shortages than the seasons alone would have caused. They more than explain this very small increase in price, without any further fall in silver's value.
The first was the civil war. By discouraging cultivation and disrupting trade, it must have raised corn prices far beyond what the seasons would have caused. It must have affected markets across the kingdom, especially those near London, which needed supplies brought from the greatest distances. According to the same accounts, the best wheat at Windsor market cost £ 4:5s. for a quarter of nine bushels in 1648, and £ 4 in 1649. Together those two prices exceeded £ 2:10s., the average for the sixteen years before 1637, by £ 3:5s. Spread that excess over the last sixty four years of the last century and it alone almost explains the small increase in the average price. Though these were the highest prices, the civil wars seem to have caused other high prices too.
The second event was the bounty introduced in 1688 for exporting corn. Many people have thought that, by encouraging cultivation over many years, the bounty could make corn more plentiful and therefore cheaper at home than it otherwise would have been. I will examine later whether it could ever do this. For now, I will only note that between 1688 and 1700 it had no time to do so. During that short period, its only possible effect was to encourage exports of each year's surplus. That prevented a plentiful year's crop from making up for a scarce one and raised the price at home. The shortage in England from 1693 to 1699, both inclusive, was mainly due to bad seasons and affected much of Europe. But the bounty must have made it somewhat worse. Accordingly, in 1699 further corn exports were prohibited for nine months.
A third event in the same period could not have caused a corn shortage, or perhaps even increased the actual amount of silver usually paid for corn. But it must have increased the nominal sum paid. This was the severe debasement of silver coins through clipping and wear. The problem began under Charles II. and kept growing until 1695. At that point, according to Mr Lowndes, silver coins in circulation were on average nearly five-and-twenty per cent. below their standard value. The nominal sum that makes up a good's market price depends less on the amount of silver a coin should contain under the standard than on the amount experience shows it actually contains. Thus nominal prices must be higher when coins are badly clipped and worn than when they are close to standard value.
During the present century, silver coins have never been further below their standard weight than they are now. Yet although they are badly worn, gold coins that can be exchanged for them have supported their value. Before the recent recoinage, gold coins were also fairly worn, but less so than silver coins. In 1695, by contrast, gold coins did not support the value of silver coins. 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, just fivepence above the mint price. But in 1695 its usual price was six shillings and fivepence an ounce, [Lowndes’s Essay on the Silver Coin, 68.] fifteen pence above the mint price. So before the recent gold recoinage, gold and silver coins together were considered no more than eight per cent. below standard value when compared with silver bullion. In 1695 they were considered nearly five-and-twenty per cent. below it. But at the beginning of the present century, just 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 any great public disaster, such as a civil war, discouraged cultivation or disrupted domestic trade during the present century. The bounty in force for most of this century must always raise corn prices somewhat above what they would otherwise be at the current level of cultivation. But it has also had enough time to produce all the benefits often credited to it: encouraging cultivation and increasing the domestic supply of corn. Under the principles of a system I will explain and examine later, we might suppose it has lowered prices in one way while raising them in another. Many people think its lowering effect has been greater. According to Eton college's accounts, in the sixty-four years of the present century, the average Windsor market price for a quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat was £ 2:0:6 ¹⁰⁄₃₂. That was about ten shillings and sixpence, or more than five-and-twenty percent., lower than in the last sixty-four years of the last century. It was about nine shillings and sixpence lower than in the sixteen years before 1636, when the rich American mines can be assumed to have had their full effect. And it was about one shilling lower than in the twenty-six years before 1620, when those mines can hardly be assumed to have had their full effect. On these figures, the average price of a quarter of eight bushels of middle wheat during the first sixty-four years of the present century was about thirty-two shillings.
Silver therefore seems to have gained some value relative to corn during the present century. It probably began doing so before the last century ended.
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, known for his expertise in such matters, estimated that in years of moderate abundance the grower received an average of 3s. 6d. a bushel for wheat, or eight-and-twenty shillings a quarter. By the grower's price, I mean what is sometimes called the contract price. This is the price at which a farmer agrees to deliver a given amount of corn to a dealer over a set number of years. Because such a contract saves the farmer the expense and trouble of going to market, its price is generally below the estimated average market price. Mr King judged eight-and-twenty shillings a quarter to be the normal contract price in moderately abundant years at that time. I have been told it remained the normal contract price in ordinary years before the shortages caused by the recent exceptionally bad seasons.
Parliament introduced the bounty on corn exports in 1688. Landowning gentlemen then held an even larger share of seats in the legislature than they do now. They had noticed that the money price of corn was falling. The bounty was a way of artificially raising it to the high levels often reached under Charles I. and II. It would therefore continue until wheat reached fortyeight shillings a quarter. That was twenty shillings, or 5-7ths, above the grower's price Mr King had estimated that very year for moderately abundant times. If his widely respected calculations have any merit, eight-and-forty shillings a quarter was a price that could not then be expected without a measure like the bounty, except in unusually scarce years. But King William's government was not yet firmly established. It could not refuse the landowning gentlemen anything while asking them to establish the first 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 century. The bounty's inevitable effect must have made that rise less noticeable than it would otherwise have been at the current level of cultivation.
In plentiful years, the bounty encourages unusually large exports and necessarily raises corn prices above what they otherwise would be in those years. Its stated purpose was to encourage cultivation by keeping corn prices up 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 shortage, the bounty has usually been suspended. Even so, it must have affected prices in many of those years. By causing unusually large exports in abundant years, it must often prevent one year's abundance from making up for the next year's shortage.
So the bounty raises corn prices above what they would naturally be at the current level of cultivation, both in plentiful years and in scarce ones. If the average price during the first sixty-four years of the present century was lower than during the last sixty-four years of the previous century, it would have been much lower still, at the same level of cultivation, without the bounty.
One might argue that cultivation would not have reached the same level without the bounty. I will discuss its possible effects on the country's agriculture later, when I examine bounties specifically. For now, I will only note that this increase in silver's value relative to corn was not limited to England. Three careful and hardworking 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 happened in France over the same period, and at almost the same rate. But French law prohibited grain exports until 1764. It is hard to believe that the nearly identical fall in price in one country occurred despite a ban on exports, while in the other it was caused by exceptionally strong encouragement to export.
It may be better to attribute this change in corn's average money price to a gradual increase in silver's real value on the European market, rather than to a fall in corn's average real value. As already noted, across long periods corn is a more reliable measure of value than silver or perhaps any other good. After the discovery of America's rich mines, corn rose to three or four times its former money price. Everyone attributed that change not to a rise in corn's real value but to a fall in silver's. If corn's average money price in the first sixty-four years of the present century was somewhat lower than it had been for most of the last century, we should likewise attribute it not to a fall in corn's real value but to a rise in silver's real value on the European market.
Corn's high price over the past ten or twelve years has admittedly led some to suspect that silver is still losing real value on the European market. But the high price of corn clearly seems to result from exceptionally bad seasons. It should be treated as a temporary, occasional event, not a lasting change. The seasons have been bad across most of Europe for these ten or twelve years. Unrest in Poland has made shortages much worse in the countries that usually buy supplies from its market in expensive years. Such a long run of bad seasons is unusual but far from unique. Anyone familiar with the history of corn prices can recall several similar examples. Besides, ten unusually scarce years are no more remarkable than ten unusually plentiful ones. The low corn prices from 1741 to 1750, both inclusive, can be set against the high prices of the last eight or ten years. Eton college's accounts show that from 1741 to 1750, the average Windsor market price for a quarter of nine bushels of the best wheat was only £ 1:13:9 ⅘. That was nearly 6s.3d. below the average for the first sixty-four years of the present century. On those figures, the average price of a quarter of eight bushels of middle wheat during those ten years was only £ 1:6:8.
Between 1741 and 1750, however, the bounty must have kept domestic corn prices from falling as low as they otherwise would. Customs records show exports of all kinds of grain totaling no less than 8,029,156 quarters, one bushel, over those ten years. The bounty paid on these exports amounted to £ 1,514,962:17:4 ½. In 1749, Mr Pelham, then prime minister, told the house of commons that an unusually large sum had been paid in export bounties on corn during the previous three years. He had good reason to say so, and the next year gave him even more reason: the bounty paid in that year alone was no less than £ 324,176:10:6. [See Tracts on the Corn Trade, Tract 3,] Clearly these artificially encouraged exports must have raised domestic corn prices substantially above what they otherwise would have been.
At the end of the accounts attached to this chapter, readers will find the figures for those ten years listed separately. They will also find separate figures for the preceding ten years. Their average was also below the general average for the century's first sixty-four years, though by less. Yet 1740 was a year of unusual shortage. The twenty years before 1750 can fairly be compared with the twenty before 1770. The earlier twenty years were well below the century's general average despite one or two expensive years. The later twenty were well above it despite one or two cheap years, such as 1759. If the earlier period was not as far below the average as the later period was above it, the bounty is probably the reason. The change happened too suddenly to be explained by a change in silver's value, which is always slow and gradual. Only a cause that works suddenly—the chance variation in the seasons—can explain such a rapid effect.
The money price of labor in Great Britain has indeed risen during the present century. But this seems to result less from any fall in silver's value in the European market than from increased demand for labor in Great Britain, due to the country's great and nearly universal prosperity. In France, which is not quite so prosperous, observers have found that the money price of labor has gradually fallen since the middle of the last century along with the average money price of corn. Throughout both the last century and this one, ordinary daily wages there are said to have remained fairly steady at around one twentieth of the average price of a septier of wheat, a measure holding a little more than four Winchester bushels. In Great Britain, as already shown, workers' real compensation—the actual amounts of life's necessities and comforts they receive—has risen considerably during the present century. Its higher money price seems to reflect not a fall in silver's value across Europe but an increase in labor's real price in Great Britain, due to this country's especially favorable circumstances.
For some time after America was first discovered, silver would still have sold at its former price or not much below it. Mining profits would initially have been very high, far above their natural rate. But importers bringing silver into Europe would soon discover that they could not sell the entire annual import at this high price. Silver would gradually buy fewer and fewer goods. Its price would fall until it reached its natural price: just enough to pay, at normal rates, the wages of labor, the profits on stock, and the rent on land required to bring it from mine to market. As noted earlier, in most of Peru's silver mines the king of Spain's tax, amounting to a tenth of gross output, consumes the entire land rent. This tax began at a half. It soon fell to a third, then a fifth, and finally a tenth, the rate at which it still remains. In most Peruvian silver mines, it seems, that is all that is left after restoring the mining operator's stock and paying its normal profits. Everyone seems to agree that these profits, once very high, are now about as low as they can be while keeping the mines operating.
The king of Spain's tax was reduced to a fifth of registered silver in 1504 [Solorzano, vol, ii.], one-and-forty years before 1545, when the mines of Potosi were discovered. Over the next ninety years, or by 1636, those mines—the richest in all America—had enough time to exert their full effect. They could reduce silver's value in the European market as far as it could fall while still paying the Spanish king's tax. Ninety years is enough to bring any nonmonopolized good down to its natural price: the lowest price at which it can keep selling for a considerable period while paying a particular tax.
Silver's price on the European market might perhaps have fallen further. In that case, either its tax would have had to be cut not merely to one-tenth, as in 1736, but to one twentieth, as the tax on gold was, or most of the American mines now operating would have had to close. What probably prevented this was the gradually growing demand for silver, or the expansion of the market for silver from America's mines. This growth has not only maintained silver's value in Europe but perhaps raised it somewhat above its level around the middle of the last century.
Since America was first discovered, the market for its mines' silver has steadily grown.
First, the European market has steadily expanded. Since America's discovery, most of Europe has developed considerably. England, Holland, France, and Germany, and even Sweden, Denmark, and Russia, have all made substantial advances in agriculture and manufacturing. Italy does not appear to have regressed. Its decline came before the conquest of Peru, and since then it appears to have recovered a little. Spain and Portugal, admittedly, are thought to have regressed. But Portugal is a very small part of Europe, and Spain's decline may not be as great as people usually think. At the beginning of the sixteenth century, Spain was very poor even compared with France, which has developed so much since then. The emperor Charles V., who often traveled through both countries, famously remarked that France had plenty of everything while Spain lacked everything. Europe's growing agricultural and manufactured output must have required a steadily growing supply of silver coin for circulation. Its growing number of wealthy people must likewise have needed more silver plate and other ornaments.
Second, America itself is a new market for the silver produced by its mines. Its agriculture, industry, and population are growing much faster than those of even Europe's most prosperous countries, so its demand must rise much faster too. The English colonies are an entirely new market. Across a vast continent where there was once no such demand, they need a continually increasing silver supply for both coins and plate. Most of the Spanish and Portuguese colonies are also entirely new markets. Before Europeans discovered New Granada, the Yucatan, Paraguay, and the Brazils, these places were inhabited by peoples whom Europeans called savage, with neither crafts nor agriculture. Both have now been introduced to a considerable extent in all of them. Even Mexico and Peru, though not entirely new markets, are certainly much bigger markets than ever before. Many remarkable stories have been published about their splendor in ancient times. But anyone who reads the history of their first discovery and conquest with a cool head will see that their people knew much less about crafts, agriculture, and trade than the Tartars of the Ukraine do today. Even the Peruvians, the more developed of the two peoples, used gold and silver for ornaments but had no coins of any kind. All their trade was barter, and there was therefore hardly any division of labor. Farmers had to build their own houses and make their own household furniture, clothing, shoes, and farming tools. The few artisans among them are said to have been supported entirely by the ruler, nobles, and priests, and were probably their servants or slaves. Not one manufactured product from the ancient crafts of Mexico or Peru has reached Europe. Spanish armies, though they hardly ever numbered more than five hundred men and often had fewer than half that number, had great difficulty finding food almost everywhere. They are said to have caused famines nearly everywhere they went, even in places described as densely populated and well cultivated. This strongly suggests that the stories of their large populations and advanced cultivation are mostly fictional. In many respects the Spanish colonies have governments less favorable to agriculture, development, and population growth than the English colonies have. Even so, they seem to be advancing in all three far more quickly than any European country. Where the soil is fertile and the climate favorable, the plentiful and cheap land common to all new colonies seems such a major advantage that it offsets many faults of government. Frezier, who visited Peru in 1713, estimated Lima's population at between twenty-five and twenty-eight thousand. Ulloa, who lived there between 1740 and 1746, put it above fifty thousand. Their population estimates for several other major towns in Chili and Peru differ by nearly the same amount. Since both seem well informed, the differences indicate growth hardly slower than that of the English colonies. America, then, is a new market for its own silver mines, and its demand must grow much faster than demand in even Europe's most prosperous 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
Third, the East Indies provide another market for silver from America's mines. Since those mines were first discovered, this market has taken ever more silver. Direct trade between America and the East Indies, carried by the Acapulco ships, has steadily grown since then. Indirect trade through Europe has grown even faster. In the sixteenth century, the Portuguese were the only Europeans who traded regularly with the East Indies. Near that century's end, the Dutch began challenging their monopoly and within a few years drove them out of their main settlements in India. For most of the last century, those two nations divided most of the East India trade between them. Dutch trade grew even faster than Portuguese trade declined. The English and French conducted some Indian trade in the last century, but it has grown greatly in the present one. Swedish and Danish East India trade began in the present century. Even the Muscovites now trade regularly with China by caravans crossing Siberia and Tartary overland to Pekin. The East India trade of all these nations has grown almost continuously, apart from the French trade, which the last war nearly destroyed. Growing European demand for East India goods seems large enough to provide steadily more business for all of them. For example, Europeans used very little tea before the middle of the last century. Now the English East India company brings in more than a million and a half a year in tea for its countrymen, and that is still not enough. Much more is continually smuggled in from Dutch ports, from Gottenburgh in Sweden, and also from the French coast while the French East India company prospered. Consumption of Chinese porcelain, Moluccan spices, Bengal piece goods, and countless other products has grown at nearly the same rate. In fact, all the European ships working in the East India trade at any one time in the last century perhaps had little more combined tonnage than the English East India company alone had before its recent reduction in shipping.
But when Europeans first began trading with the East Indies, precious metals had a much higher value there, especially in China and Indostan, than in Europe. They still do. Rice-growing countries usually produce two crops a year, and sometimes three. Each crop is larger than an ordinary corn crop, so a given area can provide far more food than the same area in a corn-growing country. Such countries consequently have much larger populations. Their rich people also have much more surplus food than they can eat and can therefore buy much more of other people's labor. According to every account, a grandee in China or Indostan has a larger and more impressive household staff than Europe's richest subjects. The rich can also offer more of their surplus food for rare things that nature provides only in small amounts, including precious metals and gems, which wealthy people compete to acquire. Even if mines supplying India were as rich as those supplying Europe, these rare goods would naturally buy more food in India. But the mines supplying India's precious metals seem much less rich, while those supplying its gems seem much richer, than Europe's suppliers. So precious metals would naturally buy somewhat more gems and much more food in India than in Europe. Diamonds, the greatest luxury of all, would cost somewhat less money in India, and food, the most essential necessity, would cost much less. Yet as noted earlier, workers in China and Indostan, India's two great markets, receive less food and other necessities as their real wages than workers in most of Europe. Their wages buy less food. Since food also costs much less money in India than in Europe, labor's money price is lower for two reasons: workers buy less food, and that food is cheaper. In countries with equal manufacturing skill and industry, the money price of most manufactured goods will be proportional to the money price of labor. China and Indostan seem somewhat less advanced than Europe in manufacturing skill and industry, but not much less. Thus most manufactured goods naturally cost much less money in those great empires than anywhere in Europe. In most of Europe, overland transport also greatly increases both the real and money prices of manufactured goods. Bringing materials to a workshop, and then bringing finished products to market, takes more labor and therefore costs more money. China and Indostan have extensive and varied inland waterways that save most of this labor and cost. That makes both the real and money prices of most manufactured goods even lower. For all these reasons, shipping precious metals from Europe to India has always been, and remains, extremely profitable. Hardly any other good fetches a better price there, or buys more labor and goods in India relative to the labor and goods it costs in Europe. Shipping silver there is more profitable than shipping gold. In China and most other Indian markets, the ratio of pure silver to pure gold is only ten to one, or at most twelve to one. 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 an ounce of gold; in Europe it takes fourteen to fifteen ounces. Silver has therefore generally been among the most valuable cargo on most European ships bound for India. It is the most valuable cargo on the Acapulco ships bound for Manilla. Thus silver from the new continent seems to be one of the principal goods enabling trade between the two far ends of the old continent. It helps connect those distant regions to one another.
To supply such a widespread market, the annual output of silver mines must do more than provide the continual growth in coins and plate needed in all prosperous countries. It must also replace silver that is continually lost or used up wherever the metal is used.
Coins wear down, and plate wears down and loses metal in cleaning. This ongoing loss of precious metals is noticeable and, because they are so widely used, requires a very large annual supply on its own. Particular manufacturing processes also consume these metals. This consumption may not be greater overall than gradual wear, but it is much more noticeable because it happens faster. In Birmingham's factories alone, the gold and silver used each year in gilding and plating, and thus made unable ever to reappear as those metals, is said to be worth more than fifty thousand pounds sterling. This gives us some idea of the annual consumption worldwide in similar manufacturing, as well as in lace, embroidery, gold and silver fabrics, the gilding of books and furniture, etc. Considerable amounts must also be lost each year while the metals are transported by sea and land. In most Asian states, people also commonly hide treasure underground. When the person who hid it dies without telling anyone where it is, still more of the metal must be lost.
The best accounts put the gold and silver imported annually through Cadiz and Lisbon at about six millions sterling a-year. That includes both registered imports and estimated smuggled imports.
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.], 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 pound troy, the silver was worth £ 3,413,431:10s. sterling. At forty-four guineas and a half per pound troy, the gold was worth £ 2,333,446:14s. sterling. Together they were worth £ 5,746,878:4s. sterling. He assures us that his figures for registered imports are exact. He specifies the places the metals came from and how much of each metal each place supplied according to the registers. He also estimates the quantities of each metal smuggled in. As an experienced and sensible merchant, his opinion carries 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, Spain's registered gold and silver imports averaged 13,984,185 ⅗ piastres of ten reals annually over eleven years, from 1754 to 1764, both inclusive. Allowing for smuggling, he estimates total annual imports at seventeen millions of piastres. At 4s. 6d. a piastre, that equals £ 3,825,000 sterling. He too gives the places the metals came from and the registered amount of each metal supplied by each place. He also says we could estimate annual gold imports from the Brazils into Lisbon from the tax paid to the king of Portugal, apparently one-fifth of the standard metal. On that basis the imports would be worth eighteen millions of cruzadoes, or forty-five millions of French livres, equal to about twenty millions sterling. But to account for smuggling, he says we can safely add an eighth to that sum, or £ 250,000 sterling, bringing the total to £ 2,250,000 sterling. On this account, annual precious-metal imports into Spain and Portugal together come to about £ 6,075,000 sterling.
I have been told that several other reliable, though unpublished, accounts agree that these annual imports average about six millions sterling, sometimes a little more and sometimes a little less.
The gold and silver imported annually into Cadiz and Lisbon do not, of course, make up the entire annual output of America's mines. Some goes each year to Manilla on the Acapulco ships; some goes into illegal trade between Spanish colonies and colonies belonging to other European nations; and some doubtless stays in America. Nor are America's mines the world's only gold and silver mines. But they are by far its most productive. Everyone agrees that the output of all other known mines is insignificant by comparison, and that by far the greatest part of America's output is imported into Cadiz and Lisbon each year. Yet Birmingham's consumption alone, at fifty thousand pounds a-year, equals one hundred-and-twentieth of annual imports of six millions a-year. Annual gold and silver consumption in all countries where these metals are used may therefore nearly equal total annual output. What is left over may only just meet growing demand in prosperous countries. It may even fall short enough to raise the metals' price somewhat in the European market.
The amounts of brass and iron brought from mines to market each year are vastly greater than the amounts of gold and silver. Yet we do not assume these common metals will grow more abundant than demand requires, or keep getting cheaper. Why assume that of precious metals? Though the common metals are harder, they undergo much harder use. They are also worth less, so people take less care to preserve them. But precious metals do not last forever either. They too can be lost, wasted, and used up in many ways.
All metal prices can change slowly and gradually, but they change less from year to year than the prices of almost any other raw product of the land. Precious-metal prices are even less likely to change suddenly than common-metal prices. Metals' durability is the reason their prices are unusually steady. All or nearly all the corn brought to market last year will be consumed long 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 is too. The amount of corn available to feed the world in any year will closely reflect that year's harvest. In contrast, the amounts of iron in use in two different years will differ very little because of any chance difference in iron-mine output between those years. The amounts of gold in circulation will differ even less because of any such difference in gold-mine output. So although the output of most metal mines may vary even more from year to year than that of most cornfields, those variations do not affect metal prices in the way harvest changes affect corn prices.
Changes in the Ratio between the 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 American mines were discovered, European mines set the value of fine gold relative to fine silver at ratios between one to ten and one to twelve. In other words, an ounce of fine gold was considered worth ten to twelve ounces of fine silver. Around the middle of the last century, the ratio became between one to fourteen and one to fifteen. An ounce of fine gold was then considered worth fourteen to fifteen ounces of fine silver. Gold rose in its nominal value, meaning the amount of silver paid for it. Both metals fell in their real value, meaning the amount of labor they could buy. But silver fell more than gold. The American gold and silver mines were richer than any previously known mines. It seems, however, that the silver mines were even richer relative to the gold mines.
The large amounts of silver sent each year from Europe to India have gradually lowered its value relative to gold in some English settlements. At the Calcutta mint, an ounce of fine gold is valued at fifteen ounces of fine silver, as it is in Europe. The mint may value it too highly compared with its market value in Bengal. In China, the gold-to-silver ratio remains one to ten or one to twelve. In Japan, it is said to be one to eight.
According to Mr Meggens’ account, the amounts of gold and silver imported into Europe each year stand at nearly one to twenty-two. That means a little more than twenty-two ounces of silver arrive for every ounce of gold. He thinks the large amount of silver shipped each year to the East Indies brings the amounts remaining in Europe to a ratio of one to fourteen or fifteen, matching their values. He seems to think that the ratio of their values must equal the ratio of their quantities. Without this larger export of silver, he believes, the value ratio would be one to twenty-two.
But the usual ratio of the values of two goods does not have to match the ratio of their available quantities. If an ox costs ten guineas and a lamb 3s. 6d., the ox costs about sixty times as much. Yet it would be absurd to conclude that markets usually have sixty lambs for every ox. It is just as absurd to conclude that markets usually have only fourteen or fifteen ounces of silver per ounce of gold because one ounce of gold usually buys fourteen or fifteen ounces of silver.
The amount of silver on the market is probably far larger relative to the amount of gold than the value of a given amount of gold is relative to the same amount of silver. The total supply of a cheap good brought to market is usually greater in both quantity and total value than the supply of an expensive good. The bread brought to market each year exceeds butcher’s meat in both quantity and value. Butcher’s meat similarly exceeds poultry, and poultry exceeds wild fowl. Cheap goods have so many more buyers than expensive ones that sellers can usually sell more of them in both quantity and total value. So the ratio of the total amount of the cheap good to that of the expensive good is usually greater than the ratio of the value of a given amount of the expensive good to an equal amount of the cheap one. Among precious metals, silver is cheap and gold expensive. We should therefore expect the silver on the market to exceed the gold in both quantity and total value. Anyone who owns a little of each can compare his silver and gold tableware. He will probably find that his silver exceeds his gold in both quantity and value. Many people also have plenty of silver but no gold tableware. Even among those who own gold, it is generally limited to watch cases, snuffboxes, and similar small objects, whose total value is rarely large. Gold does greatly exceed silver in value among British coins, but not in every country’s coins. In some countries the values of the two metals in coin are nearly equal. Before the union with England, gold in Scottish coin exceeded silver only slightly, though it did exceed it [See Ruddiman’s Preface to Anderson’s Diplomata, etc. Scotiae.], as mint accounts show. In many countries silver exceeds gold in coin. In France, people usually pay large sums in silver, and it is hard to obtain more gold than one needs to carry in a pocket. Yet in every country, the greater value of silver tableware over gold tableware more than makes up for the greater value of gold coin over silver coin found in only some countries.
In one sense silver always has been, and probably always will be, much cheaper than gold. But in another sense gold may now be somewhat cheaper than silver in the Spanish market. A good can be expensive or cheap not only according to how high its usual price is, but also according to how far that price exceeds the lowest price at which it can be brought to market for any substantial length of time. That lowest price just replaces the stock used to bring it there, with a moderate profit. It pays nothing to the landlord: rent is no part of it, and the entire price consists of wages and profit. In today’s Spanish market gold is certainly somewhat closer to this lowest price than silver is. The king of Spain taxes gold at only one-twentieth of the standard metal, or five per cent.; his silver tax is one-tenth, or ten per cent. As already noted, those taxes make up the entire rent from most of Spanish America’s gold and silver mines. The gold tax is also paid even less reliably than the silver tax. Gold-mine operators less often make fortunes, so their profits must generally be smaller than those of silver-mine operators. Since Spanish gold pays both less rent and less profit, its price in the Spanish market must be somewhat nearer the lowest price at which it can be brought there than the price of Spanish silver. Taking all expenses into account, it seems the entire supply of gold cannot be sold as profitably in the Spanish market as the entire supply of silver. The king of Portugal, however, taxes gold from the Brazils at the old rate the king of Spain charged on silver from Mexico and Peru: one-fifth of the standard metal. It may therefore be uncertain whether the entire supply of American gold reaches the general European market at a price closer to its minimum than the entire supply of American silver does.
The price of diamonds and other precious stones may be even closer than gold’s price to the lowest price at which they can be brought to market.
The silver tax falls on a luxury and an unnecessary good, one of the most suitable things to tax. It also provides very important revenue. It is therefore very unlikely that any of it will be given up while people can still pay it. But an inability to pay forced a reduction in 1736. from one-fifth to one-tenth, and might eventually force another reduction, just as it forced the gold tax down to one-twentieth. Everyone who has investigated Spanish America’s silver mines acknowledges that, like other mines, they gradually become more expensive to work. Operations must move deeper underground, where removing water and supplying fresh air cost more.
These causes amount to a growing scarcity of silver: a good grows scarcer when gathering a given amount of it becomes harder and more expensive. Eventually one of three things must happen. First, a corresponding rise in the metal’s price might cover all the increased costs. Second, a corresponding cut in the silver tax might cover them all. Third, both measures might cover part of the increase. The third outcome is quite possible. Gold rose in price relative to silver despite a large cut in the gold tax. In the same way, silver could rise in price relative to labor and other goods despite an equal cut in the silver tax.
Successive tax cuts, though, would certainly slow any rise in silver’s value on the European market, even if they did not stop it entirely. A lower tax allows mines to operate that could not afford the old tax. The annual supply of silver would therefore be somewhat larger, and the value of any given amount somewhat smaller, than otherwise. Because of the reduction in 1736, silver’s value in the European market is probably at least ten per cent. lower today than it would have been if the Spanish court had kept the old tax. This may be true even if its value is not now below its value before the reduction. The facts and arguments given above lead me to believe—or, more accurately, to suspect and guess—that silver’s European value has begun to rise somewhat in the present century despite the tax cut. My best opinion on this subject perhaps hardly deserves to be called a belief. If there has been any rise, it has been so small that, despite everything I have said, many people may still question whether it happened at all. They may even wonder whether the opposite happened and silver’s value continues to fall in Europe.
We should observe, however, that whatever the estimated annual imports of gold and silver, a time must come when annual consumption equals those imports. Consumption must grow as the stock of the metals grows, and indeed must grow even faster. As the stock grows, its value falls. People use the metals more freely and take less care of them. Consumption therefore rises faster than the stock. After some time, annual consumption must thus equal annual imports, provided imports do not keep rising. They are not thought to be doing so today.
If annual imports then gradually decline after annual consumption has caught up with them, consumption may exceed imports for a while. The stock of the metals may slowly and almost imperceptibly shrink, and their value may slowly and almost imperceptibly rise. Once annual imports stabilize again, annual consumption will slowly adjust to what those imports can sustain.
Reasons to Suspect That Silver’s Value Is Still Falling.
Europe is growing wealthier. People commonly believe that as wealth grows, the supply of precious metals naturally grows too, and that a larger supply lowers their value. This may persuade many that the metals are still losing value on the European market. The gradually rising prices of many kinds of raw products from the land may strengthen that belief.
I have already tried to show that the increase in precious metals which accompanies a country’s growing wealth does not tend to lower their value. Gold and silver flow naturally to a rich country for the same reason as all kinds of luxuries and unusual goods. They go there not because they are cheaper than in poor countries, but because they are more expensive and fetch a better price. That higher price draws them in. As soon as the price advantage ends, they stop coming.
I have also tried to show that, apart from corn and other plants grown entirely through human effort, all other kinds of raw products naturally become more expensive as society grows richer and improves. These include cattle, poultry, all kinds of game, and useful fossils and minerals from the ground. Even if these goods exchange for more silver than before, it does not follow that silver has really become cheaper or buys less labor. Instead, these goods have really become more expensive and buy more labor. As a country improves, their real prices rise along with their nominal prices. Their nominal prices rise because their real prices rise, not because silver loses value.
Different Effects of Improvement on Three Kinds of Raw Products.
These raw products can be divided into three groups. The first contains goods that human effort can hardly increase at all. The second contains goods that it can increase to meet demand. The third contains goods whose supply human effort can increase only within limits, or with uncertain results. As wealth and improvement advance, the real price of the first group can rise to any extravagant level, with no clear limit. The real price of the second can rise considerably but has a limit it cannot remain above for long. The real price of the third naturally tends to rise as improvement advances. Yet even at the same stage of improvement, it might fall, stay unchanged, or rise by different amounts, depending on whether various events make efforts to increase its supply more or less successful.
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 product whose price rises as a country improves is one that human effort can hardly increase at all. Nature supplies these things only in limited amounts. They spoil so quickly that people cannot save up the supplies from several seasons. They include most rare and unusual birds and fish, many kinds of game, almost all wild fowl, especially migratory birds, and many other things. As wealth and the luxury that comes with it grow, demand for these things is likely to grow too. Yet human effort may be unable to increase their supply much beyond its former level. Their supply stays the same, or nearly so, while competition among buyers keeps growing. Their price can therefore rise to an extravagant level, apparently without any fixed limit. Even if woodcocks became fashionable enough to sell for twenty guineas apiece, human effort could not bring many more of them to market than it does now. This explains the high prices that the Romans paid for rare birds and fish at the height of their power. Those prices did not result from a low value of silver then, but from the high value of rarities that people could not produce at will. Silver’s real value in Rome, for some time before and after the republic fell, was higher than it is in most of Europe today. The republic paid three sestertii, equal to about sixpence sterling, for a modius, or peck, of Sicily’s tithe wheat. This was probably below the average market price, since the duty to deliver wheat at that rate was regarded as a tax on Sicilian farmers. When the Romans needed more corn than the wheat tithe supplied, their agreement required them to pay four sestertii, or eightpence sterling, per peck for the extra amount. This was probably considered the moderate, reasonable, or ordinary average contract price of the time. It equals about one-and-twenty shillings per quarter. Before the recent years of scarcity, the ordinary contract price of English wheat was eight-and-twenty shillings per quarter. English wheat is inferior in quality to Sicilian wheat and generally sells for less in the European market. So silver’s value then compared with its value now was the inverse of three to four: three ounces of silver then would buy as much labor and as many goods as four ounces do now. Pliny tells us that Seius [Lib. X, c. 29.] bought a white nightingale for the empress Agrippina for six thousand sestertii, equal to about fifty pounds in our present money. He also tells us that Asinius Celer [Lib. IX, c. 17.] paid eight thousand sestertii for a surmullet, equal to about sixty-six pounds thirteen shillings and fourpence in our present money. Those prices seem astonishing, but in fact their extravagance was about one third greater than those money comparisons suggest to us. Their real price, measured in the labor and means of subsistence exchanged for them, was about one-third more than their nominal price suggests today. Seius paid for the nightingale the power to buy as much labor and subsistence as £ 66:13: 4d. would buy today. Asinius Celer paid for the surmullet the equivalent of what £ 88:17: 9d. would buy. These extravagant prices resulted less from an abundance of silver than from the large amount of labor and subsistence those Romans controlled beyond what they needed for themselves. They controlled much less silver than that same command over labor and subsistence would bring them today.
Second Kind.—The second kind of raw product whose price rises as a country improves is one that human effort can increase to meet demand. It includes useful plants and animals that nature produces in such abundance in uncultivated countries that they have little or no value. As cultivation spreads, they give way to more profitable products. For a long period during improvement, their supply steadily shrinks while demand for them steadily grows. Their real value—the amount of labor they can buy or command—therefore rises gradually. Eventually they become as profitable as anything else people can raise on the most fertile and best-cultivated land. Once they reach that point, their value cannot rise much further. If it did, people would soon put more land and effort into increasing the supply.
Take cattle, for example. Once their price makes it as profitable to cultivate land for their feed as for human food, the price cannot rise much further. If it did, more cornfields would soon become pasture. Expanding crop cultivation reduces wild pasture and thus the amount of butcher’s meat the country produces naturally, without labor or cultivation. At the same time, it increases the number of people who have corn, or its price in money, to offer in exchange for meat. Demand therefore rises. The prices of butcher’s meat and cattle must gradually rise until raising cattle feed on the most fertile and best-cultivated land becomes as profitable as raising corn there. But crop cultivation must advance a long way before cattle can reach this price. Until they do, their price must keep rising if the country is improving at all. There may be parts of Europe where cattle have not reached it yet. They had not reached it anywhere in Scotland before the Union. Scotland has so much land that can only be used to feed cattle compared with land suited to other purposes that, if Scottish cattle had always been restricted to the Scottish market, their price might never have risen enough to make it profitable to cultivate land for their feed. As already noted, cattle prices near London seem to have reached that point around the beginning of the last century. They probably did so much later across most distant English counties, and perhaps have barely done so in some of them. Still, among all the products in this second group, cattle are perhaps the first whose price rises to that level as a country improves.
Indeed, until cattle reach that price, it seems nearly impossible to cultivate fully even most land capable of the best cultivation. On farms too far from towns to bring in manure—the great majority of farms in any large country—the amount of well-cultivated land depends on how much manure the farm itself produces. That, in turn, depends on how many cattle it keeps. Cattle manure the land either while grazing on it or when their dung is carried out from the stable where they are fed. But farmers cannot afford to graze cattle on cultivated land unless the cattle’s price covers both the rent and profit from that land. Feeding them in a stable is even less affordable. Only the produce of improved, cultivated land can feed cattle in a stable: collecting the sparse, scattered growth on unimproved waste land would take too much labor and cost too much. So if the cattle’s price does not cover cultivated land’s produce when they graze directly on it, it is even less able to cover that produce when workers must also gather and bring it to the stable. Under these conditions, it is profitable to stable only the cattle needed for plowing. They can never supply enough manure to keep in good condition all the land they can cultivate. Since the manure is insufficient for the whole farm, it goes to the fields where it is most useful or easiest to apply: the most fertile land, perhaps, or the fields near the farmyard. Those fields remain in good condition and fit for crops. Most of the rest lie unused, producing almost nothing but poor pasture that barely keeps a few scattered, half-starved cattle alive. A farm is often heavily stocked relative to its actual output, though it has far fewer cattle than it would need to cultivate all its land fully. After six or seven years of this poor grazing, one part of the unused land may be plowed. It may yield a poor crop or two of bad oats or another coarse grain. Once exhausted, it must rest under pasture again while another part is plowed, exhausted, and rested in turn. This was the general farming system across lowland Scotland before the Union. Land kept constantly well manured and in good condition seldom made up more than a third or a fourth of a farm, and sometimes less than a fifth or a sixth. The rest was never manured, though portions of it were regularly cultivated and exhausted in rotation. Clearly, under this system, even Scotland’s land fit for good cultivation yielded little compared with what it could yield. However harmful this system looks, low cattle prices seem to have made it nearly unavoidable before the Union. It still survives across a considerable part of the country despite a large rise in prices. In many places this is no doubt because of ignorance and attachment to old habits. In most places, though, natural obstacles prevent the quick introduction of a better system. First, tenants are poor. They have not yet had time to acquire enough cattle to cultivate their land more fully. The same rise in price that makes it profitable to keep more cattle makes it harder to buy them. Second, even if they could buy more cattle, they have not yet had time to prepare their land to support them properly. The growth of cattle stock and the improvement of land must go together. Neither can get far ahead of the other. Land can hardly improve without more cattle, but the number of cattle cannot grow much without substantial land improvement, because the land could not support them otherwise. Only a long period of thrift and work can remove these natural obstacles. Perhaps another half-century or century must pass before the old system, which is gradually fading, disappears from every part of the country. Of all the commercial benefits Scotland has gained from union with England, the rise in cattle prices is perhaps the greatest. It has increased the value of all Highland estates and may have been the main cause of improvements in the Lowlands.
In every new colony, there is a great deal of uncultivated land that can serve no other purpose for many years than feeding cattle. Cattle quickly become extremely plentiful, and plentiful goods necessarily become very cheap. All the cattle in America’s European colonies originally came from Europe. Yet they multiplied so quickly and became worth so little that even horses were left to roam wild in the woods, with no owner finding it worthwhile to claim them. Many years must pass after colonies like these are established before feeding cattle on cultivated land becomes profitable. The lack of manure and the mismatch between the stock used in farming and the land it is meant to farm are therefore likely to produce methods similar to those still found in many parts of Scotland. Mr Kalm, the Swedish traveler, described farming in some English North American colonies as he saw it in 1749. He said he could hardly recognize the English people there as a nation so skilled in every branch of agriculture. They make hardly any manure for their cornfields, he said. When repeated crops exhaust one field, they clear and farm another piece of fresh land, then move to a third when the second is exhausted. They let cattle wander in the woods and on other uncultivated land, where they are half-starved. The animals had long since wiped out almost all the annual grasses by eating them too early in spring, before they could flower or shed seeds. [Kalm’s Travels, vol 1, pp. 343, 344.] Those annual grasses seem to have been the best native grasses in that part of North America. When Europeans first settled there, they grew thickly and reached three or four feet high. Kalm was told that land which could not support one cow when he wrote had once supported four, each producing four times as much milk as that one cow. He believed poor pasture had damaged the cattle, whose condition visibly worsened from one generation to the next. They were probably much like the stunted cattle common throughout Scotland thirty or forty years ago. Cattle in most of the Lowlands have now improved greatly, less because farmers changed breeds, though some have done that, than because they feed them more plentifully.
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
It takes a long time for improvement to bring cattle prices high enough to make cultivating land for their feed profitable. Yet cattle may be the first product in this second group to reach that price. Until they do, improvement seems unable to approach even the level it has reached in many parts of Europe.
Cattle may be among the first in this group to reach that price, while venison may be among the last. Venison may seem extravagantly expensive in Great Britain, but its price does not come close to covering the cost of a deer park. Anyone experienced in raising deer knows this. If the price did cover the cost, raising deer would soon become an ordinary branch of farming, just as raising small birds called turdi was among the ancient Romans. Varro and Columella tell us that raising those birds was very profitable. In some parts of France, fattening ortolans, migratory birds that arrive there lean, is said to be profitable too. If venison stays fashionable and Britain’s wealth and luxury keep growing as they have lately, its price may well rise further.
There is a very long interval between the point when improvement brings an essential product like cattle to its highest price and the point when it does the same for an unnecessary luxury like venison. During that interval, many other raw products gradually reach their highest prices, some earlier and some later, depending on circumstances.
For example, scraps from the barn and stable on any farm can feed some poultry. Since they eat what would otherwise be wasted, they turn waste into value. They cost the farmer almost nothing, so he can sell them cheaply. Nearly everything he receives is profit, and the price can hardly fall so low that he stops raising this number of birds. In poorly cultivated and sparsely populated countries, poultry raised at no cost often meet all demand. They are then often as cheap as butcher’s meat or any other animal food. But a farm can never raise as much free poultry as butcher’s meat. When people grow rich and enjoy luxuries, they always prefer a rarer product to a common one if the two are almost equally good. So as cultivation and improvement bring greater wealth and luxury, poultry prices gradually rise above meat prices. Eventually they rise enough to make cultivating land to feed poultry profitable. They cannot go much higher after that. If they did, more land would soon be put to this use. In several French provinces, raising poultry is considered an important part of farming and profitable enough for farmers to grow considerable amounts of Indian corn and buckwheat to feed them. A farmer of moderate means there sometimes keeps four hundred fowls in his yard. Raising poultry does not yet seem to be generally regarded as so important in England. Poultry is certainly more expensive there than in France, since England imports significant amounts from France. During improvement, each kind of animal food must naturally reach its highest price just before it becomes common practice to cultivate land to raise it. Before that practice is widespread, a shortage must drive up its price. After it becomes common, farmers usually discover new feeding methods and raise much more of that food on the same area of land. Abundance forces the farmer to sell for less, and those improvements also make cheaper sales affordable. If they did not, the abundance would not last long. This is probably how the introduction of clover, turnips, carrots, cabbages, etc. has helped bring the usual price of butcher’s meat in London somewhat below its price around the beginning of the last century.
A hog eats filth and eagerly consumes many things that every other useful animal rejects. Like poultry, it is first kept to make use of waste. As long as pigs raised at little or no cost can meet all demand, pork reaches the market much more cheaply than any other butcher’s meat. But once demand outgrows this supply, farmers must deliberately grow food to feed and fatten hogs, as they do for other cattle. Pork prices then necessarily rise. Whether they end up higher or lower than other meat prices depends on whether the country and its farming methods make hogs more or less expensive to feed than other cattle. According to Mr Buffon, pork costs nearly as much as beef in France. In most parts of Great Britain it now costs somewhat more.
People in Great Britain have often blamed the large rise in prices of both pigs and poultry on the declining number of cottagers and other small landholders. Across Europe, this decline has directly preceded better farming and improvement. At the same time, it may have helped raise these prices earlier and faster than they would otherwise have risen. Even the poorest family can often keep a cat or dog at no cost. Likewise, the poorest landholders can usually keep a few poultry or a sow and a few piglets at very little cost. Leftovers from their meals, whey, skimmed milk, and buttermilk provide some of the animals’ food. They find the rest in neighboring fields without causing noticeable harm to anyone. A decline in the number of small landholders must therefore have substantially reduced the food produced this way at little or no cost. Its price must have risen earlier and faster as a result. Eventually, however, as improvement advances, it must in any case rise as high as it can: high enough to pay for the labor and expense of cultivating land to feed these animals, just as that labor and expense are paid on most other cultivated land.
Dairying, like raising pigs and poultry, begins as a way of making use of what might be wasted. The cattle a farm must keep produce more milk than their young and the farmer’s family need. Most of it comes in one season. Of all the products of the land, milk may spoil fastest. In the warm season, when it is most plentiful, it hardly lasts four-and-twenty hours. By making fresh butter, the farmer can keep a small part of it for a week. Salt butter keeps for a year, and cheese lets him keep a much larger part for several years. He keeps some of these products for his family and sends the rest to market for the best available price. That price can hardly be low enough to stop him sending what his family does not use. If it is very low, though, he will probably run his dairy carelessly and dirtily. He may not even think a separate room or building for it is worthwhile and may work amid the smoke and filth of his own kitchen. Almost all Scottish farmers’ dairies were like that thirty or forty years ago, and many still are. The same causes that gradually raise butcher’s meat prices also raise dairy prices. Demand grows, while improvement reduces the number of cattle that can be fed at little or no cost. Dairy prices naturally reflect meat prices, or the cost of feeding cattle. Higher prices pay for more labor, care, and cleanliness. The dairy becomes more worthy of the farmer’s attention, and its products gradually improve. Eventually the price reaches a point where using some of the most fertile and best-cultivated land to feed cattle solely for milk becomes worthwhile. It cannot go much higher. If it did, more land would soon be put to this use. In most of England it seems to have reached that level, since much good land there is commonly used this way. Outside the areas around a few large towns, it seems not to have reached this level anywhere in Scotland. Ordinary Scottish farmers seldom use much good land to feed cattle solely for the dairy. Despite a substantial price rise in recent years, dairy products probably remain too cheap to support that use. Their quality is indeed as much below that of English dairy products as their price is lower. Yet the lower quality may result from the lower price rather than cause it. Even if the quality were much better, I believe that under present conditions in Scotland most products brought to market could not sell for much more. The current price probably would not cover the land and labor needed to produce much higher quality. Across most of England, dairy farming is not considered a more profitable use of land than growing corn or fattening cattle, the two main branches of agriculture, despite the higher dairy prices there. In most of Scotland it cannot yet be even as profitable.
Clearly, no country’s land can be fully cultivated and improved until every product that people must raise on it sells for enough to pay the cost of full improvement and cultivation. Each product’s price must first cover the rent of good corn land, which sets the rent for most other cultivated land. Second, it must pay for the farmer’s labor and expenses as well as these are usually paid on good corn land. In other words, it must replace the stock he uses and give him the ordinary profit. Each product’s price clearly must rise before the land intended to grow it can be improved and cultivated. Profit is the aim of every improvement. No change that necessarily causes a loss deserves that name. Yet improving land to produce something whose price could never repay the expense must cause a loss. The full improvement and cultivation of a country is surely the greatest public benefit. So rising prices for these various raw products should not be regarded as a public disaster. They are a necessary precursor and companion to that greatest public benefit.
The rise in the nominal, or money, prices of all these raw products has not resulted from silver losing value. Their real prices have risen. They are worth more not only in silver but also in labor and means of subsistence. Bringing them to market now costs more labor and subsistence. Once there, they therefore represent, or are worth, a greater amount of both.
Third Kind.—The third and last kind of raw product whose price naturally rises with improvement is one whose supply people can increase only within limits or with uncertain results. Its real price therefore naturally tends to rise as improvement advances. But various events can make efforts to increase its supply more or less successful. Its price can sometimes fall, sometimes stay the same at very different stages of improvement, and sometimes rise by different amounts during the same stage.
Nature has made some raw products dependent on other products. The amount a country can supply of the first is necessarily limited by its supply of the second. For example, the wool and raw hides a country can supply depend on the number of large and small cattle it keeps. That number, in turn, depends on how far the country has improved its land and on its farming methods.
It might seem that the same causes that gradually raise the price of butcher’s meat as a country improves should also raise wool and raw-hide prices by almost the same proportion. This would probably happen if, in the early stages of improvement, the markets for wool and hides were as limited as the market for meat. But their markets usually differ greatly in size.
Almost everywhere, the market for butcher’s meat is limited to the country that produces it. Ireland and some parts of British America do conduct a significant trade in salted meat. But I believe these are the only countries in the commercial world that export any substantial share of their butcher’s meat.
By contrast, even in the early stages of improvement, the market for wool and raw hides is rarely limited to the country producing them. They can easily be shipped to distant countries: wool needs no preparation and raw hides need very little. Since they supply material for many manufactured goods, industry in other countries can create a demand for them even when industry in the producing country 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 little land is cultivated and few people live, the wool and hide account for a much larger share of an animal's price than they do in countries with more development and people, where there is more demand for meat. Mr Hume notes that in Saxon times a sheep's fleece was valued at two-fifths of the whole sheep. That is far more than its share today. I have been told that in some Spanish provinces people often kill sheep just for their fleeces and fat. They leave the carcass to rot on the ground or to be eaten by predators and scavenging birds. If that sometimes happens even in Spain, it happens almost all the time in Chili, at Buenos Ayres, and in many other parts of Spanish America. There cattle are killed almost entirely for their hides and fat. The same thing used to happen almost all the time in Hispaniola when buccaneers plagued it. That was before the French plantations were settled, developed, and populated. Those plantations now stretch along almost the entire western half of the island's coast. Their development has given some value to the Spanish colonists' cattle. The Spaniards still hold the eastern part of the coast and all the mountainous interior.
As a country develops and its population grows, the price of the whole animal necessarily rises. But the price of its carcass is likely to rise much more than that of its wool and hide. In a society at an early stage, the carcass can only be sold in the country where it is produced. Its market must therefore expand as that country develops and gains population. Wool and hides, however, can often be sold throughout the trading world even when they come from a country at an early stage of development. Their market can rarely expand in the same proportion. The development of any single country seldom has much effect on the trading world as a whole. The market for these goods may remain nearly or exactly the same as before. In the ordinary course of things, however, development should expand it somewhat overall. In particular, if industries using these materials begin to thrive in that country, their market will at least move much closer to where they are produced, even if it does not grow much. The price of the materials could then rise by at least the amount previously spent shipping them abroad. So their price should naturally rise somewhat, even if it does not rise as fast as the price of meat. It certainly should not fall.
Yet the price of English wool has fallen considerably since Edward III's time, despite the success of England's woolen industry. Many reliable records show that during his reign, around the middle of the fourteenth century, or about 1339, a moderate, reasonable price for a tod of English wool, weighing twenty-eight pounds, was at least ten shillings in the money of the time [See Smith’s Memoirs of Wool, vol. i c. 5, 6, 7. also vol. ii.]. At twenty-pence per ounce, that money contained six ounces of silver, Tower weight, equivalent to about thirty shillings today. Today one-and-twenty shillings per tod can be called a good price for very good English wool. Thus the money price of wool in Edward III's time stood to its money price today as ten to seven. The difference in its real price was greater still. At six shillings and eightpence per quarter of wheat, ten shillings then bought twelve bushels. At twenty-eight shillings per quarter today, one-and-twenty shillings buys only six bushels. So the ratio of the old real price to today's is twelve to six, or two to one. A tod of wool then bought twice as much food as it does now. It also bought twice as much labor, if workers' real pay was the same in both periods.
This fall in wool's real and money value could not have come about naturally. It resulted instead from force and deliberate policy. First, England banned wool exports outright. Second, it allowed wool from Spain to enter duty-free. Third, it barred Ireland from exporting wool anywhere except England. These rules confined English wool to the domestic market, rather than letting its market expand as England developed. Wool from several other countries could compete with it there, and Irish wool was forced to compete with it. Irish woolen manufacturing has also been discouraged as much as justice and fair dealing allow. The Irish can therefore process only a small share of their own wool at home. They must send a greater share to Great Britain, the only market open to them.
I have not found equally reliable records for the price of raw hides in earlier times. Wool was commonly paid to the king as a subsidy, and the value assigned to it for this purpose tells us something about its ordinary price. That seems not to have been true of raw hides. Fleetwood does, however, give their prices from an account made in 1425 between the prior of Burcester Oxford and one of his canons. At least on that occasion, five ox hides were priced at twelve shillings; five cow hides at seven shillings and threepence; thirtysix skins of two-year-old sheep at nine shillings; and sixteen calf skins at two shillings. In 1425, twelve shillings held about as much silver as four-and-twenty shillings of today's money. So this account valued one ox hide at the amount of silver in 4s. ⅘ths today. Its money price was considerably lower than today's. But when wheat cost six shillings and eightpence a quarter, twelve shillings bought fourteen bushels and four-fifths of a bushel. At today's price of three and sixpence per bushel, that wheat would cost 51s. 4d. An ox hide then bought as much grain as ten shillings and threepence buys today. Its real value equaled ten shillings and threepence of today's money. In those days cattle nearly starved through much of the winter, so we cannot suppose they were very large. A hide weighing four stone of sixteen pounds avoirdupois each is not considered a bad one today, and would probably have been considered very good then. But at half-a-crown per stone, which I understand to be the usual price now (February 1773), it would cost only ten shillings today. Although its money price is higher now than it was then, its real price—the actual amount of food it buys—is somewhat lower. The account's price for cow hides is close to the usual proportion of the price for ox hides. Sheep skins are priced considerably higher in proportion; they were probably sold with their wool. Calf skins, on the other hand, are priced much lower. When cattle are cheap, calves not intended to maintain the stock are usually slaughtered very young, as they were in Scotland twenty or thirty years ago. This saves the milk, which the calves' price would not cover. Their skins are therefore usually worth little.
Raw hides cost considerably less now than they did a few years ago. The reason is probably the removal of the duty on seal skins and the temporary permission to import raw hides duty-free from Ireland and the plantations, granted in 1769. Averaged over the present century, their real price has probably been somewhat higher than it was in those earlier times. Hides are less suited than wool to being shipped to distant markets. They deteriorate 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 countries that cannot process them and must export them. By comparison, it tends to raise their price in countries that process them. It tends to lower their price in a country at an early stage of development and raise it in a developed manufacturing country. It should therefore have tended to lower their price in earlier times and raise it in modern times. Also, our tanners have been less successful than our cloth makers at convincing the nation's leaders that public safety depends on their industry's success. They have therefore received less favorable treatment. Exporting raw hides has indeed been prohibited and declared a nuisance, but imported hides from foreign countries have been taxed. The duty on hides from Ireland and the plantations was removed for five years only. Even so, Ireland has not been forced to sell its surplus hides, or those it does not process at home, only in Great Britain. Only in the past few years have ordinary cattle hides been added to the list of goods the plantations may send nowhere but to the mother country. And in this case, Irish trade has not yet been restricted to support British manufacturing.
Any rules that push the price of wool or raw hides below its natural level must tend to raise the price of meat in a developed farming country. The price of cattle and sheep raised on cultivated land must cover the rent landlords expect and the profit farmers expect from such land. Otherwise, farmers will soon stop raising them. If wool and hides pay less of that price, the carcass must pay more of it. The less one part brings in, the more the other must bring in. Landlords and farmers do not care how the total price is split between an animal's parts, provided they receive the whole amount. In a developed farming country, these rules will therefore have little effect on their interests as landlords and farmers. They may hurt them as consumers, however, by raising food prices. It is very different in an undeveloped country, where most land has no use other than grazing and wool and hides account for most of an animal's value. There, such rules greatly affect landlords' and farmers' interests as producers, but hardly affect them as consumers. A fall in wool and hide prices would not raise the carcass price. Most land could only be used for grazing, so the same number of animals would still be raised. The same amount of meat would reach the market, demand for it would not grow, and its price would stay the same. The total price of cattle would fall, along with the rent and profit on land whose chief product was cattle—that is, most of the country's land. The permanent ban on wool exports, commonly but wrongly credited to Edward III, would have been about the most destructive policy imaginable in the country's circumstances then. It would not only have reduced the actual value of most of the kingdom's land. By lowering the price of its most important kind of small livestock, it would also have greatly slowed later development.
Scottish wool fell considerably in price after the union with England. Scotland was shut out of the large European market and confined to the small British one. This would have badly hurt the value of most land in Scotland's southern counties, where sheep were the main livestock, if the rising price of meat had not fully made up for the falling price of wool.
People's ability to produce more wool or raw hides is limited when it depends on what their own country produces. It is uncertain when it depends on what other countries produce. In the latter case, the decisive issue is not so much how much those countries produce as how much they leave unprocessed and whether they restrict exports of these raw materials. These conditions are entirely outside the control of domestic industry. They make the results of its efforts uncertain. Human industry's ability to increase these raw materials is therefore both limited and uncertain.
The same is true of its ability to bring more fish to market, another important raw product. That ability is limited by a country's location, by how near its regions are to the sea, by its number of lakes and rivers, and by how rich in fish those waters are. As population rises and the yearly product of a country's land and labor grows, there are more buyers for fish. Those buyers also have a greater amount and variety of other goods—or the money those goods are worth—to spend. But usually it is impossible to serve this larger market without increasing labor by a greater proportion than the market grows. A market that once needed one thousand ton of fish a year and now needs ten thousand ton can rarely be served with only ten times as much labor. Fish generally have to be caught farther away, in larger boats, with more expensive equipment of every kind. So the real price of fish naturally rises as a country develops. I believe this has happened to some extent 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
The catch on any given fishing day is very uncertain. But given a country's location, one might think that people's ability to bring a certain amount of fish to market over a year or several years is predictable enough. And it is. Yet this ability depends more on location than on the country's wealth and industry. It can be the same in different countries at very different stages of development, or different when those countries are at the same stage. Its relationship to development is therefore uncertain. That is the kind of uncertainty I mean here.
People's ability to increase the amounts of minerals and metals taken from the earth, especially precious metals, does not seem limited, but is entirely uncertain.
The amount of precious metal in a country is not limited by local conditions such as whether its own mines are rich or poor. Countries without mines often have plenty of these metals. The amount in any particular country seems to depend on two things. First is its ability to buy them, which depends on the state of its industry and the annual product of its land and labor. That determines how much labor and food it can spare to obtain luxuries such as gold and silver, either from its own mines or by buying them from other countries. Second is how rich or poor the mines supplying the trading world happen to be at any given time. Even countries far from those mines are affected by their richness or poverty, since metals of great value and small bulk are cheap and easy to transport. The rich American mines must have affected the amounts in China and Indostan.
To the extent that a country's supply depends on the first factor, its buying power, the real price of precious metals is likely to rise as the country becomes richer and more developed and to fall as it becomes poorer and declines. That is true of other luxuries too. Countries with plenty of spare labor and food can afford to give up more of both to buy a given amount of metal than countries with less to spare.
To the extent that the supply depends on the second factor, the richness of the mines supplying the trading world, its real price—the actual amount of labor and food it can buy or be exchanged for—will fall as those mines become richer and rise as they become poorer.
But the richness of the mines supplying the trading world at any time plainly need not be related to the state of any particular country's industry. It does not even seem necessarily related to the state of industry worldwide. As crafts and trade spread across more of the earth, people search a wider area for mines and may be somewhat more likely to succeed. But finding new mines as old ones are gradually used up is highly uncertain. No amount of human skill or effort can guarantee it. Everyone recognizes that signs of a mine's presence are unreliable. Only finding and successfully working a new mine can establish whether it exists and whether it has real value. There seems to be no definite limit on either the possible success or the possible disappointment of this search. In a century or two, people may discover mines richer than any yet known. Equally, the richest mine known then may be poorer than any worked before the discovery of the American mines. Which of these things happens matters very little to the world's real wealth and prosperity, or to the real value of what humanity's land and labor produce each year. The nominal value of that product, measured in gold and silver, would certainly be very different. But its real value, measured by the labor it can buy, would be exactly the same. In the first case a shilling might represent no more labor than a penny does today; in the second, a penny might represent as much as a shilling does today. But a person carrying a shilling in the first case would be no richer than someone carrying a penny now. And a person carrying a penny in the second would be just as rich as someone carrying a shilling now. The world's only gain from the first case would be cheap and plentiful gold and silver plates and utensils. Its only loss from the second would be the high price and scarcity of these minor luxuries.
Conclusion of the Discussion of Changes in the Value of Silver.
Most writers who have collected historical money prices seem to treat low prices for grain and goods in general—in other words, a high value for gold and silver—as evidence not only that these metals were scarce, but also that the country was poor and little developed. This idea goes with the economic system that equates national wealth with plentiful gold and silver and national poverty with a shortage of them. I will explain and examine that system at length in the fourth book of this Inquiry. For now I will only note that a high value for precious metals does not prove that a country was poor or little developed. It proves only that the mines then supplying the trading world were poor. A poor country can buy less gold and silver than a rich country and can afford to pay no more for them. The metals are therefore no more likely to be worth more in the poor country than in the rich one. China is much richer than any part of Europe, yet precious metals are worth much more there than anywhere in Europe. Europe's wealth has increased greatly since the American mines were discovered, while the value of gold and silver has gradually fallen. But the fall was not caused by an increase in Europe's real wealth, the yearly product of its land and labor. It resulted from the chance discovery of mines richer than any previously known. The greater supply of gold and silver in Europe and the growth of its farming and manufacturing took place at nearly the same time. Yet they came from very different causes and have almost no natural connection. The first happened by chance; neither wise judgment nor policy had or could have had a role in it. The second resulted from the decline of the feudal system and the establishment of a government that gave industry the only encouragement it needs: reasonable assurance that people could enjoy what their own work produced. Poland still has the feudal system and is as poor today as it was before America was discovered. Yet its money price of grain has risen and the real value of precious metals has fallen, just as elsewhere in Europe. Poland's supply of those metals must therefore have grown as elsewhere, in nearly the same proportion to the yearly product of its land and labor. But more precious metal has apparently not raised that yearly product, improved its farming or manufacturing, or improved the lives of its people. Spain and Portugal own the mines but, after Poland, are perhaps Europe's two poorest countries. Precious metals must be worth less there than anywhere else in Europe. They leave those countries for the rest of Europe, carrying the costs of freight and insurance and also of smuggling, since exports are banned or taxed. Relative to what their land and labor produce each year, Spain and Portugal must therefore have more precious metals than any other European countries. Yet they are poorer than most of Europe. The feudal system has been abolished in Spain and Portugal, but what replaced it is not much better.
A low value for gold and silver, then, does not prove that a country is wealthy and thriving. Nor does a high value for them—or low money prices for goods generally or grain in particular—prove that a country is poor and little developed.
Low money prices for goods or grain in general do not show that an earlier period was poor or little developed. But when cattle, poultry, game of all kinds, etc. have low money prices compared with grain, that is strong evidence of it. First, it shows that these products were plentiful compared with grain, so far more land was devoted to producing them than to growing grain. Second, it shows that land was worth little compared with grain-growing land, and that most of the country's land was uncultivated and undeveloped. It shows that the country's stock and population were small relative to its area compared with those of developed countries. Society in that place and time was still in its early stages. General prices or grain prices alone tell us whether the mines then supplying the trading world with gold and silver were rich or poor, not whether a country was rich or poor. But the price of some goods compared with others tells us, with near certainty, whether the country was rich or poor, whether most of its land was developed, and how far its society had developed.
If goods rose in money price solely because silver lost value, every kind of good would be affected equally. Prices across the board would rise by a third, a fourth, or a fifth, according to whether silver had lost a third, a fourth, or a fifth of its former value. But the much-discussed rise in food prices has not affected all foods equally. Even those who blame silver's loss of value acknowledge that, on average over the present century, grain prices have risen much less than prices for some other foods. Those other price increases therefore cannot be due entirely to silver's falling value. Other causes must be considered. The causes given above may be enough to explain why these particular foods have become more expensive relative to grain, without assuming silver has lost value.
Indeed, during the first sixty-four years of the present century, before the recent exceptionally poor run of harvests, grain was somewhat cheaper than during the last sixty-four years of the previous century. The records of Windsor market confirm this. So do the official grain-price assessments in the counties of Scotland, and the records Mr Messance and Mr Dupré de St Maur diligently and faithfully collected from several French markets. The evidence is more complete than one could reasonably expect for something so difficult to establish.
The poor harvests alone sufficiently explain the high price of grain over the past ten or twelve years. There is no need to suppose silver lost value.
The claim that silver is continually losing value thus does not seem supported by sound observations of either grain prices or other food prices.
Someone might say that, even on the account I have given, the same amount of silver today buys much less of several foods than it did during part of the last century. Such a person might say that deciding whether those foods became more valuable or silver became less valuable is an empty distinction. It is no help to a person going to market with a fixed amount of silver or living on a fixed money income. I certainly do not claim that understanding the distinction lets that person buy food more cheaply. Yet that does not make the distinction entirely useless.
It can help the public by providing clear evidence that the country is prospering. If some foods have risen in price solely because silver has lost value, the only conclusion is that the American mines are rich. The country's real wealth—the yearly product of its land and labor—might still be declining, as in Portugal and Poland, or increasing, as in most other parts of Europe. But suppose these foods have risen in price because the land producing them has become more valuable. Its fertility may have improved, or wider development and better cultivation may have made it suitable for growing grain. In that case the rising prices clearly show that the country is growing more prosperous. Land makes up by far the largest, most important, and most lasting part of the wealth of any large country. Clear evidence that this part of its wealth is rising in value must be of some use to the public, or at least give it some satisfaction.
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
The distinction can also help the public decide how much money to pay some lower-ranking public servants. If some foods cost more because silver has lost value, their pay should certainly rise in the same proportion, assuming it was not too high to begin with. Otherwise their real pay will fall by that amount. But if prices have risen because the land producing those foods has become more valuable through improved fertility, it is much harder to judge how much, or even whether, their pay should rise. Expanding and improving cultivation necessarily raises the price of animal foods to some extent relative to grain. I believe it just as necessarily lowers the price of every kind of plant food. Animal foods cost more because much of the land that produces them becomes suitable for grain. It must then earn the landlord and farmer the rent and profit they could earn by growing grain. Plant foods cost less because more fertile land produces more of them. Agricultural improvements also introduce many plant foods that need less land and no more labor than grain, and can therefore be sold much more cheaply. Potatoes and maize, or Indian corn, are examples. These may be the two most important improvements that the expansion of trade and navigation has given European agriculture, or even Europe itself. Also, many plant foods once grown only with a spade in kitchen gardens can, with improved farming, be grown with a plow in ordinary fields. These include turnips, carrots, cabbages, etc. Thus, as a country develops, the real price of one kind of food necessarily rises while that of another falls. It is hard to judge how much one change offsets the other. Once the real price of meat has reached its highest point—as seems to have happened over much of England more than a century ago for all kinds except perhaps pork—later increases in the price of any other animal food cannot greatly affect poorer people's circumstances. Across much of England, an increase in the price of poultry, fish, wild birds, or venison surely cannot hurt the poor as much as a fall in the price of potatoes helps them.
In the current season of shortage, high grain prices certainly hurt the poor. But when supplies are reasonably plentiful and grain is at its usual or average price, a natural rise in the price of another raw product cannot affect them much. They may suffer more from the artificially high prices of manufactured goods caused by taxes on salt, soap, leather, candles, malt, beer, ale, etc.
How Development Affects the Real Price of Manufactured Goods.
Development naturally tends to lower the real price of nearly all manufactured goods over time. The cost of the labor used to make them probably falls in every case. Better machines, greater skill, and a better division and organization of work all naturally follow from development. Together they mean that much less labor is needed to make any particular item. Even if a thriving society causes the real price of labor to rise considerably, the large reduction in the amount needed will usually more than offset even a very large increase in its price.
In a few industries, though, the necessary increase in the real price of raw materials more than offsets every saving made in production. As land is developed, the real price of wood from land unsuitable for cultivation must rise. In carpentry, joinery, and rough cabinetmaking, that rise more than offsets any gain from better machines, greater skill, or a better division and organization of work.
But if the real price of raw materials rises little or not at all, the price of the finished product falls considerably.
The clearest example in this and the previous century is goods made from ordinary metals. A better watch mechanism can perhaps be bought now for twenty shillings than could have been bought for twenty pounds around the middle of the last century. Prices have also fallen greatly for knives and other cutlery, locksmiths' goods, small articles made of ordinary metals, and products commonly called Birmingham and Sheffield ware. The fall is not quite as great as for watches, but it has astonished workers elsewhere in Europe. They often admit they cannot make goods as good for twice or even three times the price. Perhaps no other industries can divide labor into so many tasks or use machines that allow for so many improvements as those working with ordinary metals.
Clothmaking has not seen such a clear fall in price over the same period. Indeed, I have been told that in the past five-and-twenty or thirty years, the price of the finest cloth has risen somewhat for a given quality. The reason given was a considerable increase in the price of its material, which is entirely Spanish wool. Yorkshire cloth, made entirely of English wool, is said to have fallen considerably in price for a given quality during the present century. But judgments about quality are very open to dispute, so I regard all such reports as somewhat uncertain. The division of labor in clothmaking is much the same as a century ago, and the machines are not very different. There may nevertheless have been small improvements in both that have brought prices down somewhat.
But the reduction becomes much clearer and harder to deny when we compare today's cloth prices with those near the end of the fifteenth century. At that time labor was probably far less divided and the machines far less effective than today.
In 1487, being the 4th of Henry VII., a law provided that “whoever sells by retail a broad yard of the finest scarlet dyed-in-the-wool cloth, or of other dyed-in-the-wool cloth of the finest workmanship, for more than sixteen shillings, must pay forty shillings for every yard sold.” Sixteen shillings then contained about as much silver as four-and-twenty shillings today. That was considered a reasonable price for a yard of the finest cloth. Since the law aimed to limit extravagant spending, such cloth had probably often sold for more. A guinea may be considered today's highest price. Even assuming that the cloth was of equal quality, though today's is probably much better, the money price of the finest cloth has clearly fallen considerably since the late fifteenth century. Its real price has fallen much more. Six shillings and eightpence was then, and for a long time afterward, considered the average price of a quarter of wheat. Sixteen shillings therefore bought two quarters and more than three bushels of wheat. At today's price of eight-and-twenty shillings per quarter, the real price of a yard of fine cloth in those days would equal at least three pounds six shillings and sixpence today. A buyer had to give up the ability to purchase as much labor and food as that sum buys now.
The real price of coarse cloth has fallen considerably too, but less than the price of fine cloth.
In 1463, being the 3rd of Edward IV., a law provided that “no farm servant, ordinary laborer, or servant of a craftsperson living outside a city or borough may wear cloth costing more than two shillings per broad yard.” In the 3rd of Edward IV., two shillings contained nearly as much silver as four shillings today. But Yorkshire cloth now sold for four shillings a yard is probably much better than any cloth then made for the poorest servants. Even its money price may therefore be somewhat lower today when quality is taken into account. Its real price is certainly much lower. Tenpence was then considered a moderate, reasonable price for a bushel of wheat. Two shillings therefore bought two bushels and nearly two pecks of wheat. At today's price of three shillings and sixpence a bushel, that wheat would cost eight shillings and ninepence. A poor servant buying a yard of this cloth had to give up the ability to purchase as much food as eight shillings and ninepence buys today. This law, too, aimed to limit the poor's luxury and extravagance. So their clothing had commonly cost much more.
The same law barred these people from wearing hose costing more than fourteen-pence per pair, equal to about eight-and-twenty pence in today's money. But fourteen-pence then bought a bushel and nearly two pecks of wheat. At today's price of three and sixpence per bushel, that would cost five shillings and threepence. Today we would think that a very high price for stockings for the poorest servants. Yet in those days they had to pay its real equivalent.
Knitting stockings was probably unknown in Europe in Edward IV's time. Hose were made from ordinary cloth, which may be one reason they were expensive. Queen Elizabeth is said to have been the first person to wear stockings in England. She received them as a gift from the Spanish ambassador.
Machines for making both coarse and fine woolen cloth were far less effective then than they are now. Since then, there have been three major improvements and probably many smaller ones whose number and importance are hard to establish. First, the spinning wheel replaced the distaff and spindle and produces more than twice as much with the same labor. Second, several clever machines made winding worsted and woolen yarn, and arranging the warp and weft before putting them in the loom, still easier and faster. Before those machines were invented, this work must have been extremely slow and difficult. Third, the fulling mill replaced treading cloth in water to thicken it. No windmills or watermills of any kind were known in England as early as the beginning of the sixteenth century, nor, as far as I know, elsewhere in Europe north of the Alps. They had reached Italy some time earlier.
These facts may partly explain why both coarse and fine cloth had much higher real prices then than now. It took more labor to bring the goods to market. Once there, they therefore had to sell for enough to buy more goods or labor.
Coarse cloth was probably made in England then much as it has always been made where crafts and manufacturing are at an early stage. It was probably made at home, with different members of nearly every household doing different parts of the work whenever they had nothing else to do. It was not their main job or the source of most of anyone's living. As already noted, work done this way is always sold much more cheaply than work on which a worker chiefly or wholly depends for a living. Fine cloth, by contrast, was not then made in England. It was made in wealthy, trading Flanders, probably by people who, then as now, earned all or most of their living from it. Because it was imported, it also had to pay the king some duty, at least the old customs on tonnage and poundage. The duty was probably not very high. European governments did not then try to restrict imports of manufactured goods with high duties. Instead, they encouraged imports, so merchants could provide powerful people as cheaply as possible with conveniences and luxuries that their own countries could not make.
These facts may also partly explain why coarse cloth cost so much less than fine cloth in real terms then compared with today.
Conclusion of the Chapter.
I will end this very long chapter with an observation. Every improvement in a society's circumstances tends, directly or indirectly, to raise the real rent of land. It increases landlords' real wealth and their ability to buy other people's labor or what that labor produces.
More extensive development and cultivation raise rent directly. As more is produced from the land, the landlord's share necessarily grows.
Higher real prices for some raw products of land also raise rent directly, and by an even greater proportion. Those higher prices first result from wider development and cultivation and then encourage further development. Rising cattle prices are one example. Not only does the landlord's share become more valuable, letting him buy more of other people's labor; his share also grows as a proportion of the total product.
Even after its real price rises, that product takes no more labor to gather than before. A smaller share will therefore be enough to replace the stock used to employ that labor and to earn the usual profit on it. A larger 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
Improvements in how much labor can produce directly lower the rent price of manufactured goods, and indirectly raise the real rent of land. Landlords trade the part of their raw produce they do not consume themselves—or the money they get for it—for manufactured goods. Anything that lowers the real price of manufactured goods raises the value of raw produce. The same amount of raw produce will buy more manufactured goods. Landlords can then buy more of the conveniences, decorations, and luxuries they want.
Every increase in society’s real wealth, and in the amount of useful labor performed in it, indirectly tends to raise the real rent of land. Some of that labor naturally goes into farming. More people and animals work the land. As the stock used to raise crops grows, production grows too, and rent rises with production.
The opposite conditions tend to lower the real rent of land. They reduce the landlord’s real wealth and his ability to buy other people’s labor or its products. These conditions include neglecting cultivation and improvement, a fall in the real price of any raw product of the land, a rise in the real price of manufactured goods as manufacturing skills and activity decline, and a decline in society’s real wealth.
As already noted, the whole yearly product of a country’s land and labor—or its total price—naturally divides into three parts: rent from land, wages from labor, and profit from stock. These provide revenue to three groups: people who live on rent, people who live on wages, and people who live on profit. They are the three great basic groups that make up every civilized society. The revenue of every other group ultimately comes from theirs.
As the preceding discussion shows, the interests of the first group are closely and inseparably tied to the interests of society as a whole. Anything that helps or harms one must help or harm the other. When the public considers a rule on trade or public administration, landowners cannot lead it astray to benefit themselves—provided they have a reasonable understanding of their own interests. Too often they do not. They alone among the three groups receive their revenue without working or looking after it. It comes to them almost automatically, without any plan or project on their part. The ease and security of their position naturally make them idle. That idleness too often leaves them not only uninformed but unable to apply the mental effort needed to foresee and understand the effects of a public rule.
The interests of the second group, people who live on wages, are as closely tied to society’s interests as those of the first. As already shown, workers’ wages are highest when demand for labor keeps growing, or when the amount of labor employed grows substantially each year. Once society’s real wealth stops growing, wages soon fall to a level barely sufficient for workers to raise a family and sustain the next generation of workers. When society declines, wages fall even lower. Landowners may gain more from prosperity than workers do, but no group suffers more cruelly than workers when society declines. Yet even though workers’ interests are closely tied to society’s, workers cannot understand that wider interest or how it connects with their own. Their circumstances leave no time to get the information they need. Their education and habits usually leave them unable to judge the issue even if they are fully informed. So in public discussions, workers’ voices are rarely heard and receive even less attention. The exceptions come when their employers stir up, urge on, and support their outcry for the employers’ own purposes, not the workers’.
The employers make up the third group, people who live on profit. Stock invested for profit sets most of society’s useful labor in motion. The plans of those who employ stock guide and direct the most important work, and the purpose of every plan is profit. But unlike rent and wages, the rate of profit does not rise when society prospers and fall when it declines. It is normally low in rich countries and high in poor ones. It is always highest in countries heading most rapidly toward ruin. So the interests of this third group are not tied to society’s interests in the same way as those of the other two groups. Merchants and manufacturing employers usually command the largest amounts of capital in this group. Their wealth also wins them the most public attention. They spend their lives making business plans and often think more sharply than most country gentlemen. But they usually think about their own line of business rather than society as a whole. Even when they offer their judgment in complete good faith—which they do not always do—it is much more reliable on their own business than on the public interest. They do not surpass country gentlemen so much in knowledge of the public interest as in knowledge of their own interest, which they understand better than the gentlemen understand theirs. They have often used that advantage to take advantage of the gentlemen’s generosity. They have persuaded them to sacrifice both their own interest and the public’s, in the simple but honest belief that the merchants’ interests, not the gentlemen’s, were the public’s interests. Yet the interests of dealers in a particular trade or manufacture are always different from, and sometimes opposed to, the public’s interests. Dealers always want a bigger market and less competition. A bigger market may often serve the public too. Less competition never does. It only lets dealers raise their profits above their natural level and charge their fellow citizens an unreasonable price for their own benefit, as if imposing a tax. Any proposal for a new trade law or rule from this group should therefore be treated with great caution. It should never be adopted until it has been examined long and carefully, with the most exacting and suspicious attention. It comes from people whose interests never fully match the public’s. They generally stand to gain by deceiving or even exploiting the public and have often done both.
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 for each year is the average of the highest prices on 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 an early society without a division of labor, people rarely exchange things. Each person provides everything for himself, so no one needs to build up a stock of supplies in advance to keep the society’s work going. Each person works to meet his needs as they arise. When he is hungry, he hunts in the forest. When his coat wears out, he wears the skin of the first large animal he kills. When his hut starts to fall apart, he repairs it as well as he can with the nearest trees and turf.
Once the division of labor is firmly established, a person’s own work meets only a small part of his needs. He meets most of them by buying the products of other people’s labor. He pays with what he has produced, or with the money he gets for it. But he cannot buy those things until he has finished and sold his own product. Someone must therefore have stored up enough goods to support him and provide the materials and tools he needs until both things have happened. A weaver cannot devote himself entirely to weaving unless he or someone else has already stored up enough to support him and provide his materials and tools until he has finished and sold his cloth. That stock must be built up before he can spend so much time on this particular occupation.
Stock must be built up before labor can be divided. Labor can then be divided further only as more stock is built up beforehand. As tasks become more divided, the same number of people can work up far more materials. Each worker’s tasks become simpler, and people invent new machines to make those tasks easier and quicker. So, as the division of labor advances, keeping the same number of workers constantly employed calls for a stock of food as large as before and a larger stock of materials and tools than a less developed society needed. These must be stored up in advance. Usually, though, the number of workers in each trade also grows as its work is divided. Or, more precisely, having more workers allows them to sort themselves into specialized groups and divide their tasks further.
Building up stock is necessary before these great improvements in labor’s productive powers can happen. It also naturally leads to them. A person who uses his stock to support workers wants them to produce as much as possible. He tries to assign them the most suitable tasks and give them the best machines he can invent or afford. His ability to do both generally depends on how much stock he has, or how many people it can employ. So a country’s stock does more than increase the amount of work done by employing more people. As it grows, the same amount of labor produces much more.
These are the general effects of growing stock on labor and its productive powers.
In this book I will explain what stock is, what happens when it builds up into different kinds of capital, and what happens when those kinds of capital are used in different ways. The book has five chapters. In the first, I explain the parts into which an individual’s stock, or an entire society’s stock, naturally divides. In the second, I explain what money is and how it works as one part of society’s total stock. The owner can use stock built up as capital, or lend it to someone else. In the third and fourth chapters, I examine how it works in each case. The fifth and last chapter covers the different immediate effects of using capital in different ways on the amount of work done in a nation and on the annual product of its land and labor.
On the Division of Stock
When a person has only enough stock to live on for a few days or weeks, he rarely expects it to bring in revenue. He uses it as sparingly as possible and works to get something to replace it before it runs out. His labor alone provides his revenue. This is how most working poor people live in every country.
When he has enough stock to live on for months or years, he naturally tries to earn revenue from most of it. He keeps only enough for his immediate use to support him until that revenue arrives. His stock thus has two parts. The part he expects to earn revenue from is his capital. The other part meets his immediate needs. It consists, first, of the part of his stock originally set aside for this purpose; second, of whatever revenue he receives as it comes in; or, third, of things bought with either of these in earlier years that have not been used up, such as clothes and household furniture. What people keep for their immediate use consists of one, some, or all of these three things.
Capital can be used in two ways to bring its user revenue or profit.
First, it can be used to grow, make, or buy goods and then sell them at a profit. Capital used this way earns its owner nothing while he still holds it or while it keeps the same form. A merchant’s goods earn him nothing until he sells them for money. The money earns him nothing until he trades it for goods again. His capital keeps leaving him in one form and returning in another. Only by moving through these successive changes can it earn him a profit. Such capital can aptly be called circulating capital.
Second, capital can be used to improve land, buy useful machines and tools, or acquire similar things that bring in revenue or profit without changing owners or circulating further. Such capital can aptly be called fixed capital.
Different occupations need very different proportions of fixed and circulating capital.
A merchant’s capital, for example, is entirely circulating capital. He needs no machines or tools for his trade unless we count his shop or warehouse.
Every master craftsperson or manufacturer must put some capital into the tools of the trade as fixed capital. This share is very small in some trades and very large in others. A master tailor needs only some needles. A master shoemaker’s tools cost a little more, but not much. A weaver’s cost considerably more than a shoemaker’s. Yet most of these masters’ capital circulates in their workers’ wages or in materials. They get it back, with a profit, in the price paid for their work.
Other kinds of work need much more fixed capital. At a large ironworks, for example, the furnace that melts the ore, the forge, and the slitting mill are costly tools to build. In coal workings and mines of every kind, the machinery needed to pump out water and do other jobs often costs still more.
For a farmer, the capital used to buy agricultural tools is fixed capital; the capital used to pay and support his workers is circulating capital. He profits from the first by keeping it and from the second by giving it up. The value of his working animals is fixed capital, like the value of his farm tools. The cost of feeding them is circulating capital, like the cost of supporting his workers. He profits by keeping the animals and giving up what feeds them. Both the purchase price and the upkeep of animals bought and fattened for sale, not work, are circulating capital. He profits by selling the animals. In a region where animals are bred, a flock of sheep or herd of cattle kept neither to work nor to be sold, but to provide wool, milk, and offspring, is fixed capital. The farmer profits by keeping it. Its upkeep is circulating capital, from which he profits by giving it up. That expense comes back, together with its own profit and a profit on the animals’ entire price, through the sale of the wool, milk, and offspring. The whole value of seed is also properly fixed capital. Although it goes back and forth between the field and the granary, it never changes owners and so does not really circulate. The farmer profits not by selling the seed but by increasing it.
The total stock of a country or society is the combined stock of all its people. It naturally divides into the same three parts, each with a separate 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 part is stock set aside for immediate use. Its defining feature is that it brings in no revenue or profit. It includes food, clothes, household furniture, and other things that consumers have bought but have not yet used up. All the houses used only as homes in a country at any given time belong to this first part. Once the owner puts stock into a house for himself to live in, it stops acting as capital or earning him revenue. A home, simply as a home, adds nothing to the occupant’s revenue. It is certainly very useful to him, but so are his clothes and furniture, which are expenses, not revenue. If the house is rented to a tenant, the house itself produces nothing. The tenant must therefore pay the rent from some other revenue, earned from labor, stock, or land. A house may bring its owner revenue and so act as capital for him. But it cannot bring society revenue or act as capital for society. It cannot increase the revenue of the people as a whole in the slightest. Clothes and household furniture can likewise sometimes earn revenue and act as capital for particular people. In countries where masquerades are common, some people make a business of renting costumes for a night. Upholsterers often rent out furniture by the month or year. Undertakers rent out funeral furnishings by the day or week. Many people rent furnished houses and receive rent for the furniture as well as the house. But the revenue earned from such things must ultimately come from some other source of revenue. Of all the stock that a person or society sets aside for immediate use, houses are used up most slowly. Clothes may last several years, and furniture half a century or a century. Well-built and properly maintained houses may last many centuries. Even though they take longer to wear out completely, they are still stock for immediate use, just as clothes and furniture are.
The second of society’s three parts of stock is fixed capital. Its defining feature is that it earns revenue or profit without circulating or changing owners. It consists mainly of the following four kinds of things.
First are all useful machines and tools that make work easier and quicker.
Second are buildings that help earn revenue for both the owner who rents them out and the person who occupies them and pays the rent. These include shops, warehouses, workshops, farmhouses and their necessary outbuildings, stables, granaries, and so on. They are quite different from houses used only as homes. They are a kind of tool for a trade and can be treated as such.
Third are improvements to land: money profitably spent clearing, draining, fencing, fertilizing, and making it suitable for farming. An improved farm can be seen in the same way as a useful machine that makes work easier and quicker. Either lets a given amount of circulating capital earn its user much more revenue. An improved farm is just as useful as any such machine and lasts longer. Often the only repairs it needs are the farmer’s most profitable use of the capital spent on cultivating it.
Fourth are the useful skills acquired by all the people in society. To acquire a skill, someone must be supported during education, study, or an apprenticeship. This has a real cost, a kind of capital fixed in the person who acquires it. Those skills are part of that person’s wealth and of the wealth of the society to which the person belongs. A worker’s increased skill is like a machine or tool that makes work easier and quicker: it costs something, but it pays back that cost with a profit.
The third and last part of society’s total stock is circulating capital. Its defining feature is that it earns revenue only by circulating or changing owners. It too has four parts.
First is money, which allows the other three parts to circulate and reach the people who will use them.
Second is the stock of food and drink held by butchers, livestock raisers, farmers, grain merchants, brewers, and others who expect to profit by selling it.
Third are the raw or partly processed materials for clothes, furniture, and buildings. These have not yet been made into any of those three finished kinds of product. They are still in the hands of growers, manufacturers, sellers of fabrics and clothes, timber merchants, carpenters and joiners, brick makers, and others.
Fourth and last are products that have been finished but are still held by merchants or manufacturers and have not been sold or passed on to the consumers who will use them. Examples include finished goods ready for sale in the shops of blacksmiths, cabinetmakers, goldsmiths, jewelers, and china merchants. Circulating capital thus includes the food, materials, and finished products of every kind held by their respective dealers. It also includes the money needed to move and distribute those goods to the people who will finally use or consume them.
Of these four parts, three—food, materials, and finished goods—are regularly taken out of circulating capital, either every year or after a shorter or longer time. They become either fixed capital or stock for immediate use.
Every item of fixed capital originally comes from circulating capital and must keep receiving support from it. All useful machines and tools are originally made with circulating capital. It provides both the materials they are made from and the support of the workers who make them. Capital of the same kind is also needed to keep them in repair.
Fixed capital can earn revenue only with the help of circulating capital. Even the most useful machines and tools produce nothing without circulating capital to provide the materials they work on and support the workers who use them. However improved the land is, it produces no revenue without circulating capital to support the workers who cultivate it and gather its produce.
The sole purpose of both fixed and circulating capital is to maintain and increase the stock set aside for immediate use. That stock feeds, clothes, and houses people. Whether they are rich or poor depends on how much or how little the other two kinds of capital can supply to this stock.
A large share of circulating capital is constantly taken out to become one of the other two parts of society’s total stock. Circulating capital therefore needs regular new supplies or it would soon disappear. These mainly come from three sources: land, mines, and fisheries. They continually provide food and materials, some of which are later made into finished goods. These replace the food, materials, and finished goods continually removed from circulating capital. Mines also provide what is needed to maintain and increase its money. In ordinary business, money is not necessarily taken out of circulating capital to become one of the other two parts, as the other three are. But like everything else, it eventually wears out. Sometimes it is lost or sent abroad. It therefore needs regular new supplies too, though much smaller ones.
Land, mines, and fisheries all need both fixed and circulating capital to work them. Their products replace these kinds of capital with a profit, and also replace all the other capital in society. Every year, for example, the farmer replaces the food the manufacturer consumed and the materials the manufacturer worked up the year before. The manufacturer replaces the finished goods the farmer used up or wore out over the same period. That is the real annual exchange between the two groups. They seldom swap raw farm products directly for manufactured goods. The farmer seldom sells his grain, cattle, flax, and wool to the same person from whom he buys the clothes, furniture, and tools he needs. Instead, he sells his raw products for money and uses it to buy the manufactured goods he needs wherever he finds them. Land even replaces at least some of the capital used in fisheries and mines. Food grown on land enables people to take fish from the water, and products of the earth’s surface enable them to extract minerals from underground.
Where land, mines, and fisheries are equally fertile by nature, the amount they produce depends on how much capital is used and how well it is used. Where the amounts of capital are equal and equally well used, the amount produced depends on natural fertility.
In any country with reasonable security, a person of ordinary understanding will try to use all the stock he can obtain either to enjoy things now or to earn a profit later. Stock used for present enjoyment is set aside for immediate use. Stock used for future profit must earn that profit either by staying with its owner 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 use all the stock he controls in one of these three ways, whether it is his own or borrowed from others.
In less fortunate countries, people often fear violence from those who rule them. They bury or hide a large part of their stock so they can quickly take it to safety when threatened by the disasters they always expect. This is said to be common in Turkey and Indostan, and, I believe, in most other governments of Asia. It seems to have been common among our ancestors during the violence of feudal rule. In those days, treasure-trove was considered a significant part of the revenue of Europe’s greatest rulers. It consisted of treasure found hidden in the ground when no particular person could prove a claim to it. People then thought it important enough to assign it to the ruler, not to the finder or the landowner, unless the landowner’s charter expressly granted that right. It was treated like gold and silver mines. Without a special clause in the charter, a general grant of land was not understood to include those mines, although it did include mines of lead, copper, tin, and coal, which were seen as less important.
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 as a Part of Society’s General Stock, and on the Cost of Maintaining the Nation’s Capital
The First Book showed that the price of most goods has three parts. One pays wages for the labor used to produce them and bring them to market. Another pays profit on the stock used, and the third pays rent on the land used. Some goods have only two of these parts: wages and profit. A very few have only wages. But every price must consist of one or more of these three parts. Any part that pays neither rent nor wages must be someone’s profit.
What holds for each good separately must also hold for all the goods produced each year by a country’s land and labor taken together. The total price, or exchange value, of that yearly output must be divided among the country’s people as wages for their labor, profits on their stock, or rent from their land.
All the value produced each year by a country’s land and labor is thus divided among its people and becomes their revenue. But we can distinguish between their gross and net revenue, just as we distinguish between the gross and net rent from a private estate.
An estate’s gross rent includes everything the farmer pays. Its net rent is what the landlord has left after paying for management, repairs, and all other necessary costs. It is what the landlord can put into stock for immediate consumption, or spend on food, transportation, household decorations and furniture, personal pleasures, and entertainment without damaging the estate. The landlord’s real wealth depends on net rent, not gross rent.
A large country’s gross revenue includes everything its people’s land and labor produce each year. Its net revenue is what remains after the cost of maintaining, first, fixed capital and, second, circulating capital. This is what people can put into stock for immediate consumption or spend on necessities, comforts, and entertainment without using up their capital. Their real wealth likewise depends on net revenue, not gross revenue.
Every cost of maintaining fixed capital must be left out of society’s net revenue. The materials needed to maintain useful machines, tools, productive buildings, and so on cannot count as part of it. Neither can the output of the labor that shapes those materials for their intended use. The wages paid for that labor can count, because the workers may put the full value of their wages into their stock for immediate consumption. With other kinds of labor, both the wages and the output can go into that stock. The wages go into the workers’ stock, while the output goes into other people’s stock and increases their necessities, comforts, and pleasures.
Fixed capital is meant to make labor more productive, allowing the same number of workers to do much more work. Take two farms of equal size with equally good soil. With buildings, fences, drains, roads, and the like in excellent condition, the same number of workers and working animals will produce far more on one farm than on the other if it lacks those improvements. In manufacturing, the same number of workers using the best machinery will process far more goods than workers using poorer tools. Money properly spent on any kind of fixed capital pays back a large profit. It raises annual output by much more than the cost of maintaining the improvements. Still, some of that output must be spent on maintenance. Materials and workers’ labor that could directly increase society’s food, clothing, housing, and comforts are put to another use. That use is highly beneficial, but it is different. This is why any mechanical improvement that lets the same number of workers do the same amount of work with simpler, cheaper machinery is good for society. Materials and workers previously needed to maintain more complicated and expensive machinery can instead increase the amount of work done with that machinery, or with any other machinery. Suppose the owner of a large factory spends a thousand pounds a year maintaining its machinery and can cut that expense to five hundred. He will naturally spend the other five hundred on additional materials for additional workers to process. The work the machinery is meant to help accomplish will increase, along with all the benefit and comfort society receives from that work.
The cost of maintaining a large country’s fixed capital is much like the cost of repairs on a private estate. Repairs are often necessary to maintain the estate’s output and therefore the landlord’s gross and net rent. But if better management can lower repair costs without reducing output, gross rent stays at least the same, while net rent necessarily rises.
Although the entire cost of maintaining fixed capital must be left out of society’s net revenue, maintaining circulating capital is different. Circulating capital has four parts: money, provisions, materials, and finished goods. As already noted, the last three are regularly taken out of it and put either into society’s fixed capital or into stock for immediate consumption. Any of these consumable goods not used to maintain fixed capital go into that stock and become part of society’s net revenue. Maintaining these three parts of circulating capital therefore takes nothing from the annual output that could count as net revenue, beyond what fixed capital needs for maintenance.
In this respect, society’s circulating capital differs from an individual’s. None of an individual’s circulating capital can count as that person’s net revenue, which consists entirely of profits. But although each person’s circulating capital is part of society’s circulating capital, that does not mean it is entirely excluded from society’s net revenue. A merchant cannot put all the goods in his shop into his own stock for immediate consumption. But other people can put them into theirs. They can use revenue from other sources to pay the merchant regularly for the goods and his profit, without reducing either his capital or theirs.
Money, then, is the only part of society’s circulating capital whose maintenance can reduce its net revenue.
Fixed capital and the money part of circulating capital have much in common in the ways they affect society’s revenue.
First, machines, tools, and similar things cost money to set up and then to maintain. Both costs are part of society’s gross revenue but must be deducted to calculate its net revenue. Likewise, the money circulating in a country costs money to obtain and then to maintain. These costs, too, are part of gross revenue but deductions from net revenue. Valuable materials, gold and silver, and highly skilled labor are used to maintain this large but expensive instrument of commerce. Instead, they could have increased the stock available for immediate consumption: the necessities, comforts, and pleasures of individuals. This instrument is what distributes those things regularly to each person in the proper amounts.
Second, the machines, tools, and similar items that make up an individual’s or a society’s fixed capital are not part of either gross or net revenue. Neither is the money that distributes society’s whole revenue among its members. The great wheel that keeps goods circulating is not the goods it circulates. Society’s revenue consists of those goods, not the wheel. When calculating gross or net revenue, we must subtract the full value of the money from the yearly circulation of money and goods. Not a single farthing of that money can count as revenue.
This point only seems doubtful or strange because the word money has more than one meaning. Once explained, the point is almost obvious.
When we mention a sum of money, sometimes we mean only the metal coins. At other times we also mean, less clearly, the goods those coins can buy, or the buying power they give their owner. When we say England’s circulating money has been estimated at eighteen millions, we mean the quantity of coins that some writers have calculated, or rather guessed, are circulating there. But when we say someone is worth fifty or a hundred pounds a year, we usually mean more than the coins paid to that person each year. We mean the value of the goods that person can buy or use each year. We usually mean to describe that person’s way of life, or the amount and quality of necessities and comforts the person can reasonably enjoy.
If a sum of money refers both to coins and, less clearly, to the goods they can buy, the wealth or revenue it represents equals just one of those two values. More accurately, it equals the value of the goods, not the coins: what the money is worth rather than the money itself.
Suppose someone receives a guinea as a weekly pension. During the week, that person can buy a certain amount of necessities, comforts, and pleasures with it. The amount determines that person’s real wealth and real weekly revenue. Weekly revenue is not both the guinea and the things it buys. It equals just one of those two equal values, more accurately the value of what the guinea buys than the guinea itself.
If the pension came as a weekly bill for a guinea instead of gold, the person’s revenue would not really be the paper but what it could buy. A guinea can be thought of as a bill presented to all the local merchants for a certain amount of necessities and comforts. The recipient’s revenue is not so much the gold coin as the things it can buy or be exchanged for. If it could buy nothing, it would be no more valuable than a useless scrap of paper, like a bill drawn on someone bankrupt.
Likewise, a country’s people may all receive their weekly or yearly revenue in money, and often do. But their combined real wealth and real weekly or yearly revenue depend on how many consumable goods they can buy with it. Their combined revenue cannot equal both the money and the goods it buys. It equals just one of those two values, more accurately the goods than the money.
We often express someone’s revenue as the number of coins paid to that person each year because that number determines their buying power, or the value of the goods they can consume each year. Yet we still understand revenue to consist of that power to buy or consume, not the coins that provide it.
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 for one person, it is even clearer for a whole society. The coins paid to a person in a year often equal that person’s revenue exactly. So stating their amount is the simplest and best way to state its value. But all the coins circulating in a society can never equal the revenue of all its members. The same guinea can pay one person’s weekly pension today, another’s tomorrow, and a third person’s the day after. The value of all the coins circulating during a year must therefore be much less than the value of all the money pensions paid with them during that year. Yet the buying power of those pensions, or the goods they can buy as they are paid out one after another, exactly equals their value. So does the revenue of the people receiving them. That revenue cannot consist of the coins, whose total value is so much lower. It consists of buying power, or the goods those coins can buy as they pass from hand to hand.
Money, then, is the great wheel of circulation and a major tool of commerce. Like any other tool, it is a valuable part of capital but not part of the revenue of the society that owns it. As its coins circulate each year, they distribute to each person the revenue that belongs to that person. But the coins themselves are not part of that revenue.
Third and finally, fixed capital’s machines and tools resemble circulating capital’s money in another way. Any reduction in the cost of setting up and maintaining machines that does not reduce labor’s productive power raises society’s net revenue. Likewise, any reduction in the cost of obtaining and maintaining the money part of circulating capital raises net revenue in exactly the same way.
It is fairly clear how saving on the maintenance of fixed capital raises society’s net revenue, and I have partly explained it already. The capital of anyone running a business must be divided between fixed and circulating capital. If total capital stays the same, a smaller share in one means a larger share in the other. Circulating capital supplies materials and wages and sets industry to work. So every saving on fixed capital’s maintenance that does not reduce labor’s productive power increases the fund that sets industry to work. This raises the annual output of land and labor, society’s real revenue.
Replacing gold and silver money with paper replaces an expensive tool of commerce with a much cheaper one, which is sometimes just as convenient. A new wheel carries circulation at less cost to set up and maintain than the old one. But how this works, and how it raises society’s gross or net revenue, is less obvious and needs further explanation.
Paper money takes several forms. Notes issued by banks and bankers are the best-known kind and seem best suited to this purpose.
People may trust a banker’s wealth, honesty, and good judgment enough to believe he will always pay any of his promissory notes presented to him on demand. Those notes then circulate like gold and silver money, because people believe they can exchange them for such money at any time.
Suppose a banker lends his customers his own promissory notes totaling a hundred thousand pounds. Because the notes work like money, his borrowers pay him the same interest they would pay if he had lent them that much money. This interest is his gain. Some notes constantly return to him for payment, but others keep circulating for months or years. So although he generally has a hundred thousand pounds in notes circulating, twenty thousand pounds in gold and silver may often be enough to meet occasional demands for payment. In this way, twenty thousand pounds in gold and silver do everything that a hundred thousand would otherwise have done. His notes worth a hundred thousand pounds can carry out the same transactions and distribute the same amount of consumable goods to the people who use them as an equal value of gold and silver money. Eighty thousand pounds in gold and silver can therefore be removed from the country’s circulation. If many banks and bankers do the same thing at once, circulation can be maintained with only a fifth of the gold and silver it would otherwise need.
For example, suppose a country has one million sterling in circulating money, just enough to circulate everything its land and labor produce each year. Suppose various banks and bankers then issue one million in notes payable to the bearer, while keeping two hundred thousand pounds in their vaults to meet occasional demands. Circulation would then contain eight hundred thousand pounds in gold and silver plus a million in banknotes: eighteen hundred thousand pounds in paper and coin together. Before this, one million was enough to circulate the yearly output and distribute it to the people who use it. Banking cannot immediately increase that output, so one million is still enough. The goods being bought and sold have not changed; the amount of money needed to trade them has not changed either. The channel of circulation, if I may call it that, stays the same size. We assumed one million filled it. Anything poured in beyond that amount must overflow. Of the one million eight hundred thousand pounds poured in, eight hundred thousand pounds must overflow because the country cannot use it in domestic circulation. But it is too valuable to leave idle, so it will go abroad to seek profitable use. The paper cannot go abroad. Far from the issuing banks and the country where payment can legally be demanded, it will not be accepted in ordinary transactions. Thus eight hundred thousand pounds in gold and silver will go abroad. Domestic circulation will contain a million in paper, replacing the million in gold and silver that filled it before.
We should not imagine that this large amount of gold and silver is sent abroad for nothing, as a gift to other nations. Its owners will exchange it for foreign goods, to be used either in another foreign country or at home.
If its owners buy goods in one foreign country to sell for use in another—the carrying trade—their profit adds to their own country’s net revenue. It is like a new fund created to conduct new trade. Paper now handles domestic business, freeing gold and silver to finance this new trade.
If instead they buy foreign goods for use at home, they have two choices. First, they can buy things consumed by idle people who produce nothing, such as foreign wines and silks. Second, they can buy more materials, tools, and provisions to support and employ more productive people. Those people reproduce the value of what they consume each year, plus a profit.
Money used in the first way encourages wasteful spending. It raises spending and consumption without raising production or creating a lasting fund to support that spending. It harms society in every respect.
Money used in the second way encourages industry. It increases society’s consumption but creates a lasting fund to support it, because the people consuming reproduce the full value of their yearly consumption, plus a profit. Society’s gross revenue—its land and labor’s yearly output—rises by the full value those workers add to the materials they work on. Its net revenue rises by what remains of that value after the cost of maintaining their tools and equipment is deducted.
It seems not just likely, but almost inevitable, that most of the gold and silver driven abroad by banking and used to buy foreign goods for domestic consumption buys goods of the second kind. Some individuals greatly increase their spending at times without any increase in revenue. But we can be sure no entire class of people does this. Ordinary caution may not guide every person, but it does guide most people in every class. Banking does not increase the revenue of idle people as a class in the slightest. Their spending overall therefore cannot rise much because of it, though some individuals’ spending can and sometimes does. Their demand for foreign goods stays the same, or nearly so. Only a small share of the money driven abroad by banking and spent on foreign goods for domestic use is likely to buy goods for them. Most of it will naturally support industry, not idleness.
When calculating how much industry society’s circulating capital can employ, we must count only its provisions, materials, and finished goods. We must leave out its money, which only circulates those other three parts. Industry needs three things to get going: materials to work on, tools to work with, and wages or other payment that motivates the work. Money is neither a material nor a tool. And although workers are usually paid in money, their real revenue, like everyone else’s, is what that money buys, not the money itself; it is not the coins but what they can get for them.
The number of workers a capital can supply with materials, tools, and support suited to the work determines how much industry it can employ. Money may be needed to buy those materials, tools, and provisions for the workers. But the industry the whole capital can employ cannot equal both the money spent and the things bought with it. It equals one of these two values, more accurately the value of the materials, tools, and support than of the money.
When paper replaces gold and silver money, the total circulating capital can supply additional materials, tools, and support worth as much as the gold and silver previously used to buy them. The value of the great wheel of circulation and distribution is added to the goods it helps circulate and distribute. This is rather like the owner of a large enterprise replacing old machinery after a mechanical improvement. The owner puts the difference between the old machinery’s price and the new machinery’s price into circulating capital, the fund used to provide workers with materials and wages.
It may be impossible to say what share of a country’s yearly output is represented by the money circulating that output. Various writers have estimated it at a fifth, a tenth, a twentieth, or a thirtieth of the output’s value. Yet only a portion of yearly output, often a small portion, is ever set aside to support industry. So however small circulating money’s share of total output is, it must represent a substantial share of that portion. Replacing gold and silver with paper may reduce the metal needed for circulation to perhaps a fifth of its former amount. If just the greater part of the other four-fifths is added to the funds supporting industry, it must greatly increase the amount of industry and therefore the value produced each year by 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
Something like this has happened in Scotland over the past five-and-twenty or thirty years. New banking companies have opened in almost every sizable town and even in some country villages. The results have been just as described above. Business there is carried on almost entirely with the notes issued by these banks. People commonly use them for purchases and all kinds of payments. Silver is rarely seen except when changing a twenty shilling banknote, and gold is seen even less often. The banks have not all behaved beyond criticism, and an act of parliament was needed to regulate them. Even so, their business has clearly brought the country great benefits. I have heard it said that trade in Glasgow doubled in about fifteen years after banks first opened there. I have also heard that Scotland’s trade has more than quadrupled since the first two public banks opened in Edinburgh. The Bank of Scotland was established by an act of parliament in 1695, and the Royal Bank by a royal charter in 1727. I do not claim to know whether Scottish trade generally, or Glasgow’s trade in particular, really grew so much in so short a time. If either did, banking alone seems unable to explain such a large increase. But there is no doubt that Scotland’s trade and industry grew substantially during this period, and that the banks contributed a great deal to that growth.
Before the Union in 1707, Scotland had silver coins in circulation worth £411,117: 10: 9 sterling. Immediately after the Union, these coins were brought to the Bank of Scotland to be recoined. We have no accounting of the gold coins. But old records from the Scottish mint show that the value of gold coined each year was somewhat greater than the value of silver. Also, many people did not bring their silver to the Bank of Scotland because they doubted they would be repaid. And some English coins were circulating that were not called in. So the total gold and silver circulating in Scotland before the Union cannot have been worth less than a million sterling. This seems to have been almost all the money circulating there. The Bank of Scotland had no rival and circulated a considerable amount of its own notes, but these seem to have been only a very small share of the total. Today, the total money circulating in Scotland cannot be estimated at less than two millions. Of this, the gold and silver probably amount to less than half a million. Yet although the circulating gold and silver have decreased so much, Scotland’s real wealth and prosperity show no signs of suffering. On the contrary, its farming, manufacturing, and trade, and its land and labor’s yearly output, have clearly grown.
Most banks and bankers issue their promissory notes mainly by discounting bills of exchange. This means paying out money against a bill before it comes due. They always deduct the legal interest on the sum advanced for the period until the bill is due. When the bill is paid on its due date, the bank recovers what it advanced and earns the interest as a clear profit. A banker who gives the merchant his own notes rather than gold and silver when discounting a bill can discount more bills. The extra amount equals the value of his notes that, in his experience, ordinarily remain in circulation. This lets him earn interest on a larger sum.
Scotland’s commerce is not very large now, and it was even smaller when its first two banks were established. Those banks would have had little business if they had only discounted bills of exchange. So they found another way to issue notes: what they call cash accounts. A bank offers an individual a credit line up to a set amount, say two or three thousand pounds, if the person can find two reliable owners of landed estates to guarantee it. They guarantee that whatever he borrows within the credit limit will be repaid on demand, with legal interest. Banks and bankers around the world commonly offer this kind of credit, I believe. But as far as I know, the easy repayment terms offered by Scottish banks are unique to them. These terms may be the main reason both for the banks’ large volume of business and for the benefits the country has received from it.
For example, someone with such a credit line who borrows a thousand pounds may pay it back bit by bit, twenty or thirty pounds at a time. For each partial payment, the bank reduces the interest on the original sum by the corresponding amount from the date of that payment until the full sum has been repaid. So all merchants and nearly all other businesspeople find it useful to keep cash accounts with these banks. They then have an interest in helping the banks do business: they readily accept the banks’ notes in payment and encourage others they can influence to accept them too. When customers ask the banks for money, the banks generally give them their own notes. Merchants pay these notes to manufacturers for goods. Manufacturers pay them to farmers for materials and provisions, and farmers pay them to landlords for rent. Landlords pay them back to merchants for comforts and luxuries. Finally, merchants return them to banks to settle their cash accounts or repay what they borrowed. Almost all the country’s money business is handled with these notes. This explains the banks’ large volume of business.
Cash accounts let every merchant safely conduct more trade than would otherwise be possible. Take two merchants with equal stocks in the same line of business, one in London and the other in Edinburgh. The Edinburgh merchant can safely conduct more trade and employ more people. The London merchant must always keep a substantial sum of money on hand, either in his own safe or with his banker, who pays him no interest on it. He needs this money to meet constant demands for payment for goods bought on credit. Suppose he normally needs five hundred pounds for this purpose. His warehouse must then contain five hundred pounds less in goods than it could if he did not have to leave that money unused. Suppose he normally sells all the goods in stock, or goods worth the full value of his stock, once a year. Because he has to keep that money unused, he sells five hundred pounds worth fewer goods each year than he otherwise could. He loses all the yearly profit he could have made on those extra goods. He also employs fewer people to prepare goods for market: specifically, however many could have been employed with five hundred pounds more stock. The Edinburgh merchant, by contrast, keeps no money unused to meet occasional demands. When payments come due, he draws from his cash account at the bank. He gradually repays what he borrowed with cash or notes from sales of his goods. With the same stock, he can safely keep more goods in his warehouse at all times than the London merchant. He can thus earn more profit and give steady employment to more productive people who prepare those goods for market. This is why the country has gained so much from this banking practice.
One might think that English merchants’ ability to discount bills of exchange gives them a benefit equal to Scottish merchants’ cash accounts. But Scottish merchants can discount bills just as easily as English merchants can, and they also have their cash accounts.
The total paper money of all kinds that can circulate readily in a country can never exceed the value of the gold and silver it replaces. That is the amount that would circulate there without paper money, assuming trade stayed the same. Suppose twenty shilling notes are the smallest notes circulating in Scotland. Then the total paper money that can circulate readily there cannot exceed the gold and silver needed to carry out the yearly transactions worth twenty shillings or more usually made there. If paper money in circulation exceeds that amount, the surplus cannot be sent abroad or used in domestic circulation. It must immediately return to the banks to be exchanged for gold and silver. Many people would quickly see that they held more notes than they needed for business at home. Since they could not send the notes abroad, they would immediately demand payment from the banks. They could readily find a use for the resulting gold and silver by sending it abroad, but not for the paper notes. The banks would immediately face demands for payment covering all the surplus notes. If they were slow or reluctant to pay, the demands would grow much larger, because their reluctance would cause alarm.
Banks have ordinary business costs, including rent, wages for servants, clerks, and accountants, and so on. They also have two main costs of their own. First, they must always keep a large sum in their vaults to meet occasional demands from noteholders. They lose the interest they could have earned on it. Second, they must refill those vaults as fast as payments empty them.
A bank that issues more paper than the country can use in circulation will continually have the surplus returned for payment. It should keep more gold and silver in its vaults, not just in proportion to its excessive increase in notes, but by a much larger proportion. Its notes come back far faster than their increase alone would suggest. Thus its first cost, holding reserves, should rise by much more than the forced increase in its business.
Although such a bank must keep its vaults much fuller, they will empty far faster than if it kept its business within reasonable limits. Refilling them takes not only much heavier spending but a constant, unbroken effort. The coins continually taken from its vaults in such large amounts cannot circulate in the country. They replace paper in excess of what domestic circulation can use, so they too are in excess of what it can use. Those coins cannot be left idle, so they must be sent abroad in one form or another to find profitable use unavailable at home. This constant export of gold and silver makes it harder, and therefore more expensive, for the bank to find new gold and silver to refill vaults that empty so rapidly. As its business grows beyond reasonable limits, its second cost must rise even more than its first.
Suppose a particular bank can easily circulate exactly forty thousand pounds in notes and must always keep ten thousand pounds in gold and silver in its vaults for occasional demands. If it tries to circulate forty-four thousand pounds, the surplus four thousand pounds will come back for payment almost as quickly as it is issued. To meet demands, the bank needs not just eleven thousand pounds in its vaults, but fourteen thousand pounds. It gains no interest on the extra four thousand pounds in circulation. Yet it bears the entire cost of continually gathering four thousand pounds in gold and silver, which leaves its vaults almost as soon as it arrives.
If every bank had always understood and protected its own interests, there could never have been too much paper money in circulation. But banks have not always understood or protected 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
For many years, the Bank of England issued too much paper money. The excess kept coming back to be exchanged for gold and silver. As a result, the bank had to mint between eight hundred thousand pounds and a million a-year in gold coins, or about eight hundred and fifty thousand pounds on average. Because gold coins had become worn and reduced in weight a few years earlier, the bank often had to buy gold bullion at the high price of four pounds an ounce. It then issued that gold as coins at £3:17:10 ½ an ounce, losing between two and a half and three per cent. on this very large amount of coinage. The bank paid no seignorage, or minting charge, because the government paid for the minting itself. Even so, this government generosity did not spare the bank all the expense.
The Scotch banks had also issued too much paper. They all had to keep agents in London to collect money for them, at a cost that was rarely less than one and a half or two per cent. The money was sent by wagon, and the carriers insured it for an additional three quarters per cent., or fifteen shillings on the hundred pounds. Sometimes the agents could not replenish the banks' cash as quickly as it was spent. The banks then drew bills of exchange on their contacts in London for the money they needed. Later, those contacts drew bills on the banks to recover the money, interest, and commission. Some banks were in such trouble from their excessive issue of paper that they could pay only by drawing a second set of bills, on the same London contacts or others. The same sum—or rather, bills for that sum—might make more than two or three journeys this way. The bank that owed the money kept paying interest and commission on the entire accumulated amount. Even Scotch banks that had never been extremely reckless sometimes had to use this ruinous method.
The Bank of England and the Scotch banks paid out gold coins in exchange for the paper that exceeded what the country could use in circulation. That gold also exceeded what the country could use as coins. Some was sent abroad as coins, some was melted and sent abroad 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, best coins were carefully selected for export or melting. At home, while they remained coins, these heavy pieces were worth no more than light ones. Abroad, or melted into bullion at home, they were worth more. Despite minting so many coins each year, the Bank of England was surprised to find the same shortage of coins year after year. Despite all the good new coins the bank issued each year, the condition of the coinage got worse instead of better. Each year the bank had to mint nearly as much gold as it had the year before. As coins continued to wear down or be clipped, the price of gold bullion kept rising, making this large annual minting more expensive every year. When the Bank of England fills its own vaults with coins, it must indirectly supply the whole kingdom, because coins constantly flow out of its vaults in many ways. The bank therefore had to fill every gap in the kingdom's necessary supply of coins caused by the excessive circulation of English and Scotch paper money. The Scotch banks certainly paid dearly for their own carelessness and lack of attention. But the Bank of England paid dearly not just for its own mistakes, but for the much greater mistakes of almost all the Scotch banks.
The original cause of this excessive circulation of paper money was the over-trading of some daring speculators in both parts of the united kingdom.
A bank should not advance to a merchant or other business operator all his trading capital, or even a substantial part of it. It should advance only the part he would otherwise have to keep idle as cash to meet occasional demands. If the paper money advanced by the bank never exceeds that amount, it can never exceed 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 take up and use.
Suppose a bank discounts a genuine bill of exchange drawn by a genuine creditor on a genuine debtor, who actually pays it when it falls due. The bank advances only part of the cash the merchant would otherwise have to keep idle to meet occasional demands. When the debtor pays the bill, the bank gets back what it advanced, with interest. So long as the bank deals only with customers like these, its vaults resemble a pond with one stream flowing out and another equally large stream flowing in. The pond stays full, or nearly full, without extra effort. Such a bank needs little or no expense to refill its vaults.
Even without over-trading, a merchant may often need cash when he has no bills to discount. If the bank discounts his bills and also lends him money through a cash account at such times, accepting repayments in installments as sales of his goods bring in money, it gives him the easy terms offered by the banking companies of Scotland. He no longer needs to keep any of his stock idle as cash to meet occasional demands. When those demands arise, he can meet them from his cash account. But a bank dealing with such customers must watch whether their repayments over a short period—four, five, six, or eight months, for example—usually equal the advances it makes to them. If they usually do, the bank can safely keep dealing with them. Even if a large stream of money flows out of its vaults, at least as much flows in. Its vaults are likely to stay full or nearly full without extra effort and will hardly ever need costly replenishment. But if some customers usually repay far less than they receive, the bank cannot safely go on dealing with them, at least while they continue this way. Much more money flows out than flows in, and the vaults will soon be empty unless they are replenished through a large, continuous expense.
For a long time, therefore, the banking companies of Scotland carefully required all customers to repay frequently and regularly. They did not want to deal with anyone, however wealthy or creditworthy, who failed to conduct what they called frequent and regular operations with them. This practice saved almost all the unusual expense of refilling their vaults. It also gave them two other important advantages.
First, it let the banks judge reasonably well whether their borrowers were prospering or declining, using only their own records. People generally repay regularly when their affairs prosper and irregularly when they decline. A private lender with perhaps half a dozen or a dozen borrowers can observe each person's behavior and situation carefully and regularly, in person or through agents. But a banking company lending to perhaps five hundred different people is busy with many other matters. For most borrowers, its own records are its only regular source of information on their behavior and circumstances. The Scotch banks probably had this advantage in mind when they required frequent, regular repayments from all customers.
Second, it protected the banks against issuing more paper money than the country could readily take up and use. If a customer's repayments usually equaled his advances over moderate periods, the banks could be sure that the paper they advanced to him never exceeded the gold and silver he would otherwise have kept on hand for occasional demands. The paper they put into circulation through him therefore never exceeded the gold and silver that would have circulated without paper money. How often he repaid, how regularly he did so, and how much he paid showed that the advances never exceeded the part of his capital he would otherwise have kept idle as cash for occasional demands, so that the rest of his capital could remain in use. Only this part of a dealer's capital regularly returns to him as money, whether paper or coin, and leaves him as money again within moderate periods. If the bank had usually advanced him more than this, his normal repayments could not have equaled its normal advances over such periods. The stream his business sent into the bank's vaults could not have matched the stream it drew out. Advances of bank paper beyond the gold and silver he would have kept for occasional demands could soon exceed even all the gold and silver that would have circulated in the country, assuming the same commerce but no paper money. The paper would then exceed what the country's circulation could readily use. The excess would immediately return to the bank to be exchanged for gold and silver. This second advantage was just as real as the first, though perhaps not all the Scotch banking companies understood it as well.
When discounting bills and offering cash accounts free reputable traders from the need to keep any stock idle as cash for occasional demands, they cannot reasonably expect any further help from banks. Banks cannot safely or profitably go further. A bank cannot profitably advance a trader all, or even most, of his circulating capital. Although that capital keeps returning to him as money and leaving him as money, the time between its total outlays and total returns is too long. His repayments could not equal the bank's advances within periods short enough to suit a bank. A bank is even less able to advance a substantial part of his fixed capital. An iron-forge operator, for example, uses fixed capital to build his forge, smelting-houses, workshops, warehouses, and workers' homes, etc. A mine operator uses it to sink shafts, build engines to draw out water, and make roads and wagonways, etc. Someone improving land uses it to clear, drain, enclose, fertilize, and plow unused, uncultivated fields, and to build farmhouses with their stables, granaries, etc. Fixed capital almost always returns much more slowly than circulating capital. Even the wisest spending of this kind seldom pays the operator back for many years, far too long for a bank. Traders and other business operators may properly fund a substantial part of their projects with borrowed money. But to be fair to their creditors, their own capital must be large enough to protect the creditors' capital, so that a loss to them is extremely unlikely even if the project falls far short of expectations. Even then, money not intended to be repaid for several years should not be borrowed from a bank. It should be borrowed on bond or mortgage from private people who want to live on interest rather than manage capital themselves, and are therefore willing to lend to creditworthy people who will keep it for several years. A bank that lends without the cost of stamped paper or lawyers' fees for bonds and mortgages, and accepts repayment on the easy terms of the Scotch banking companies, would certainly be a very convenient lender for these traders and operators. But they would be very inconvenient borrowers 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 ago, the paper money issued by Scotland's various banking companies was already at least as much as the country could readily take up and use, and actually a little more. By then, these companies had given Scotland's traders and other business operators all the help that banks could give without endangering their own interests. They had even done a little more. They had over-traded slightly, bringing on the loss, or at least the reduction in profit, that even a little over-trading always causes in banking. The traders and operators wanted still more help. They apparently thought banks could extend credit as much as needed for no cost beyond a few reams of paper. They complained that bank directors were narrow-minded and timid. The directors, they said, failed to expand credit as the country's trade expanded. By this expansion of trade, they surely meant their own plans to do more than their capital, or the money they could normally borrow from private people by bond or mortgage, would allow. They apparently thought the banks had a duty to supply whatever was missing and give them all the capital they wanted for trade. The banks disagreed. When they refused to extend credit, some traders turned to a device that worked for a time. Though far more expensive, it served them as effectively as the greatest expansion of bank credit could have. This was the familiar device of drawing and redrawing bills of exchange, sometimes used by unfortunate traders on the edge of bankruptcy. Raising money this way had long been known in England. During the late war, when high trading profits strongly encouraged over-trading, it is said to have been used very widely there. It spread from England to Scotland, where, compared with the country's limited commerce and modest capital, it was soon used on a far greater scale than it ever had been in England.
Businesspeople know drawing and redrawing so well that an explanation may seem unnecessary. But many readers of this book may not be businesspeople, and even businesspeople may not fully understand its effects on banking. I will therefore explain it as clearly as I can.
Merchants established their own customs when Europe's harsh laws did not enforce their contracts. In the last two centuries, all European nations have made these customs part of their laws. These customs give bills of exchange special privileges, so lenders advance money against them more readily than against any other kind of obligation, especially if payment is due in just two or three months. If the person who accepted a bill does not pay when it is presented at maturity, he is bankrupt from that moment. The bill is formally protested and returned to the person who drew it, who is also bankrupt if he does not pay at once. The bill may have passed through several hands before reaching the person who presents it for payment. Each previous holder may have advanced its value to the next in money or goods and signed the back of the bill to show he had received that value. Each such signer, or indorser, is in turn liable to the current holder for its value, and becomes bankrupt from the moment he fails to pay. Even if the drawer, acceptor, and indorsers are all of doubtful credit, the short time before payment gives the holder some security. They may all be likely to go bankrupt, but it is unlikely that they will all do so in such a short time. A tired traveler says to himself, “The house is unsound and will not stand for long, but it probably will not fall tonight, so I will risk sleeping there tonight.”
Suppose trader A in Edinburgh draws a bill on B in London, payable two months after its date. B actually owes A nothing. But B agrees to accept the bill if, before it falls due, he can draw a bill on A in Edinburgh for the same sum plus interest and a commission, also payable two months after its date. Before the first two months end, B draws that bill on A. Before the second two months end, A draws a second bill on B in London, likewise payable two months after its date. Before the third two months end, B draws another bill on A in Edinburgh, also payable two months after its date. This has sometimes continued for several months or even several years. Each bill returns to A in Edinburgh with the interest and commission from all previous bills added. Interest was five per cent. a year, and commission was never less than one half per cent. on each bill drawn. Because this commission was paid more than six times a year, the money A raised this way necessarily cost him something more than eight per cent. a year. Sometimes it cost much more, when commissions rose or he had to pay compound interest on earlier interest and commissions. This was called raising money by circulation.
In a country where ordinary profits on stock in most commercial projects are thought to be between six and ten per cent., a project would have to be unusually fortunate to repay such enormous borrowing costs and still leave its promoter a good profit. Yet many vast projects were undertaken and carried on for several years with no funds except money raised at this enormous cost. In their golden dreams, their promoters no doubt pictured a great profit very clearly. But when they woke up, at the end of their projects or when they could no longer continue, I believe they very rarely found it.
[The method just described was neither the most common nor the most expensive way these speculators sometimes raised money by circulation. A in Edinburgh often enabled B in London to pay the first bill by drawing a second bill on the same B in London a few days before the first fell due. This second bill was payable in three months. It was made payable to A's own order, and A sold it in Edinburgh at its full face value. With the proceeds, A bought bills on London payable immediately to B's order, and mailed them to B. Toward the end of the late war, the exchange rate between Edinburgh and London was often three per cent. against Edinburgh. A must often have paid that premium for those immediately payable bills. This transaction, repeated at least four times a year and carrying a commission of at least one half per cent. each time, must then have cost A at least fourteen per cent. a year. At other times, a few days before the first bill fell due, A would enable B to pay it by drawing a second bill payable in two months, not on B but on a third person, C, for example, in London. The second bill was payable to B's order. Once C accepted it, B had a London banker discount it. A then enabled C to pay it by drawing a third bill, also payable in two months, a few days before the second fell due. This might be drawn on A's first contact B or on a fourth or fifth person, D or E, for example. It was payable to C's order, and once accepted C likewise had a London banker discount it. Such transactions, repeated at least six times a year, with a commission of at least one half per cent. each time and legal interest of five per cent., must have cost A something more than eight per cent., as in the method described above. By avoiding the unfavorable exchange rate between Edinburgh and London, however, this method cost less than the one described earlier in this note. But it required established credit with more than one London business house, something many of these speculators could not easily obtain.]
A regularly took the bills he drew on B to a bank or banker in Edinburgh to be discounted two months before they fell due. B likewise regularly took the bills he drew on A to the Bank of England or another banker in London to be discounted. Money advanced on these circulating bills was given in Edinburgh as Scotch bank paper. In London, when the Bank of England discounted the bills, it was given as that bank's paper. Every bill was paid when due, but the banks never actually got back the value advanced on the first bill. Before each bill came due, someone drew another bill for a somewhat greater amount, and discounting the new bill was necessary to pay the old one. So the apparent repayment was entirely fictitious. Money flowed out of the banks' vaults through these circulating bills, but no corresponding flow ever really came back in.
The paper issued against these circulating bills was often enough to fund an entire vast project in agriculture, commerce, or manufacturing. It was not limited to the part of the funding the promoter would otherwise have had to keep idle as cash for occasional demands. Most of this paper therefore exceeded the value of the gold and silver that would have circulated without paper money. It exceeded what the country's circulation could readily take up and use, and immediately returned to the banks for exchange into gold and silver. The banks had to find that gold and silver somehow. The promoters had cleverly drawn this capital from the banks without their knowledge or deliberate agreement, and perhaps for a while without the banks even remotely suspecting that they had lent it.
If two people continually draw bills on each other and always have the same banker discount them, he will immediately see what they are doing. He will see that they trade not with their own capital but with his. The trick is harder to detect if they sometimes use one banker and sometimes another. It is also harder if the same two people do not always exchange bills, but instead take turns within a large circle of promoters. They all benefit from helping each other raise money this way and make it as hard as possible to tell a genuine bill from a fictitious one: a bill drawn by a real creditor on a real debtor from a bill whose only real creditor is the bank that discounts it, and whose only real debtor is the promoter who uses the money. Even when a banker uncovered the scheme, it might be too late. He might already have discounted so many of their bills that refusing more would bankrupt them all and perhaps ruin him too. In this dangerous position, his own safety might require him to continue for a while. He would try to withdraw gradually by making it harder each day to discount their bills, pushing the promoters toward other bankers or other ways of raising money so he could leave the circle as soon as possible. In time, the Bank of England, the main London bankers, and even the more careful Scotch banks all began to make discounting difficult, after they had already gone too far. This not only alarmed the promoters but made them furious. They called their own distress, immediately caused by the banks' necessary and prudent restraint, the distress of the country. They blamed this supposed national distress entirely on the banks' ignorance, cowardice, and bad management. The banks, they said, were not generous enough in supporting the bold projects of people working to beautify, improve, and enrich the country. They apparently thought banks had a duty to lend for as long and as much as they wished to borrow. But by refusing more credit to people they had already lent far too much, the banks took the only remaining step that could save 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 expressly to relieve the country's distress. Its aim was generous, but it was run unwisely. Perhaps its founders did not understand the nature or causes of the distress they meant to relieve. This bank was more generous than any earlier bank in offering cash accounts and discounting bills of exchange. It seems hardly to have distinguished genuine bills from circulating bills, discounting both alike. Its stated policy was to advance, against any reasonable security, all the capital needed for improvements that paid back most slowly and distantly, such as land improvements. Supporting these improvements was even said to be the main public-spirited reason for founding it. By generously offering cash accounts and discounting bills, it certainly issued a great many bank notes. Most of those notes, however, exceeded what the country could readily take up and use. As quickly as the bank issued them, they returned to be exchanged for gold and silver. Its vaults were never well supplied. At two different subscription rounds, investors pledged a total of one hundred and sixty thousand pounds in capital, but paid in only eighty per cent. of it. The money was to be paid in several installments. When many shareholders paid their first installment, they also opened cash accounts with the bank. The directors thought they should treat shareholders as generously as everyone else, so they allowed many to borrow through those accounts what they paid toward every later installment. These payments therefore merely moved money into one vault that had just been taken out of another. Even if the bank's vaults had been full, its excessive note circulation would have emptied them faster than they could be refilled except by the ruinous device of drawing bills on London and, when those bills fell due, paying them with new bills drawn there, plus interest and commission. Since its vaults were so poorly supplied, it is said to have resorted to this device within a few months of opening. Its shareholders' estates were worth several millions, and their subscriptions to the bank's original bond or contract actually pledged those estates to cover all its obligations. This substantial guarantee gave the bank enough credit to operate for more than two years despite its excessive generosity. When it had to stop, it had about two hundred thousand pounds in bank notes circulating. To support these notes, which came back for redemption as fast as it issued them, it had constantly drawn bills on London. Their number and value kept rising and amounted to upwards of six hundred thousand pounds when it stopped. In 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 of notes it circulated, that five per cent. might have been a clear gain, apart from management costs. But on the upwards of six hundred thousand pounds for which it kept drawing bills on London, it paid upwards of eight per cent. in interest and commission. So it lost more than three per cent. on more than three fourths of all its business.
This bank seems to have produced exactly the opposite of the results its founders and directors wanted. They meant to support what they considered bold projects then under way across the country. They also meant to take all banking business for themselves, pushing out the other Scotch banks, especially those in Edinburgh, whose reluctance to discount bills had caused offense. The new bank did temporarily relieve some promoters, allowing their projects to continue for about two years longer than they otherwise could have. But this only let them sink deeper into debt. When ruin came, the blow was heavier for them and their creditors. In the long run, instead of easing the distress these promoters had brought on themselves and their country, the bank made it worse. It would have been much better for them, their creditors, and their country if most had been forced to stop two years earlier than they did. The temporary help this bank gave the promoters, however, was real and lasting help for the other Scotch banks. People trading in circulating bills, which those banks had grown reluctant to discount, went to the new bank and were welcomed. The other banks could then escape easily from the dangerous circle, which they could not otherwise have left without a considerable loss, and perhaps some damage to their credit as well.
Thus, in the long run, the bank's operations increased the country's real distress, which it had meant to relieve, and effectively relieved its rivals of great distress, though it had meant to replace them.
When the bank first opened, some people thought it could easily refill its vaults, however quickly they emptied, by borrowing against the securities of those to whom it had issued paper. Experience, I believe, soon showed that this way of raising money was far too slow. Vaults so poorly stocked at first and emptied so quickly could be refilled only through the ruinous device of drawing bills on London and paying them when due with new bills drawn on London, with interest and commission added. But even if the bank could have raised money as fast as it needed in the proposed way, it would have lost money on every transaction rather than made a profit. In the long run it would have ruined itself as a commercial company, though perhaps less quickly than by the more expensive practice of drawing and redrawing. It could still have earned nothing from interest on the paper. The paper exceeded what the country's circulation could use, so it came back to be exchanged for gold and silver as soon as it was issued. The bank itself continually had to borrow money to make these payments. All the borrowing costs would instead have fallen on the bank as a clear loss on its accounts: paying agents to find lenders, negotiating with them, and preparing the necessary bond or assignment. Refilling its vaults that way would be like trying to keep a pond full when a stream constantly runs out and none runs in. The pond's owner proposes to employ people to carry buckets of water continually from a well several miles away.
Even if this operation had been possible and profitable for the bank as a commercial company, it would have brought the country no benefit and instead caused a substantial loss. It could not have increased the available amount of money to lend at all. It would only have turned the bank into a sort of central loan office for the whole country. Borrowers would have applied to the bank instead of to the private people who had lent their money to it. But a bank lending to perhaps five hundred people, most of whom its directors know very little about, is unlikely to choose borrowers more wisely than a private person lending to a few people he knows and trusts to act soberly and frugally. Most borrowers from a bank like the one I have described would probably be unrealistic promoters, drawing and redrawing circulating bills. They would spend on extravagant projects that they probably could not finish even with all the help available. Even if completed, these projects would never repay their real costs or provide funds to support as many workers as had worked on them. The sober, frugal borrowers of private lenders, on the other hand, would more likely spend the money on sensible projects suited to their capital. Those projects might be less grand and astonishing, but they would be sounder and more profitable. They would repay what was spent on them with a large profit and provide funds to support many more workers than had worked on them. So even if this operation had succeeded, it would not have increased the country's capital at all. It would merely have moved much of that capital from careful, profitable projects to reckless, unprofitable ones.
The famous Mr Law believed that Scotland's industry was held back by a lack of money to put it to work. He proposed to remedy this by establishing a special kind of bank that, he seems to have thought, could issue paper money equal to the full value of all the country's land. The parliament of Scotland did not accept his proposal when he first made it. The Duke of Orleans, then regent of France, later adopted it with some changes. The belief that paper money could be multiplied almost without limit was the real basis of the so-called Mississippi scheme, perhaps the most extravagant banking and stock-trading project the world has ever seen. Mr Du Verney explains its various operations so thoroughly, clearly, and systematically in his Examination of the Political Reflections upon commerce and finances of Mr Du Tot that I will not describe them. Mr Law himself explains its underlying principles in a discourse on money and trade that he published in Scotland when first proposing his plan. The dazzling but imaginary ideas in that work and other writings based on the same principles still impress many people. Perhaps they have partly contributed to the excessive banking recently complained of in Scotland and elsewhere.
The Bank of England is Europe's largest bank that issues circulating notes. It was incorporated by a charter under the great seal, dated the 27th of July 1694, under an act of parliament. At that time it advanced £1,200,000 to the government 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 expenses. We can assume that the new government's credit after the Revolution was very low, since it had to borrow at such a high interest rate.
In 1697, the bank was allowed to add £1,001,171:10s. to its capital stock through a new subscription. Its total capital stock then came to £2,201,171: 10s. The addition is said to have been made to support public credit. In 1696, government 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 re-coinage of silver then under way, the bank had stopped paying out on its notes, which inevitably damaged their credit.
Under the 7th Anne, c. 7, the bank advanced and paid £400,000 into the exchequer. This brought its advances on its original annuity to £1,600,000, in return for £96,000 interest and £4,000 for management expenses. By 1708, then, the government's credit was as good as a private person's: it could borrow at six per cent. interest, the usual legal and market rate at the time. Under the same act, the bank canceled exchequer bills totaling £ 1,775,027: 17s: 10½d. at six per cent. interest and was permitted to take 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 became stock. Another call of ten per cent. in 1710 brought in £501,448:12:11d. After these two calls, the bank's capital amounted to £ 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 3rd George I. c.8, the bank handed over two millions of exchequer bills to be canceled. By then it had lent the government £5,375,027:17 10d. Under 8th George I. c.21, the bank bought £4,000,000 of stock from the South-sea company. In 1722, subscriptions raised to finance that purchase increased its capital stock by £ 3,400,000. By then the bank had lent the public £ 9,375,027 17s. 10½d., while its capital stock came to only £ 8,959,995:14:8d. This was the first time the amount the bank had lent the public, on which it earned interest, exceeded its capital stock, on which it paid dividends to the owners of bank stock. In other words, the bank now had capital beyond the capital distributed among its shareholders. It has had such additional capital ever since. By 1746, the bank had lent the public £11,686,800 in various transactions. Calls for funds and subscriptions had raised its dividend-paying capital to £ 10,780,000. Those two figures have stayed the same ever since. Under 4th of George III. c.25, the bank agreed to pay the government £110,000 for renewing its charter, with no interest or repayment. That payment therefore increased neither of the other two figures.
The bank's dividend has changed with the interest rate it received on its loans to the public and with other circumstances. That interest rate has gradually fallen from eight to three per cent. For some years now the bank's dividend has been five and a half per cent.
The bank of England is as stable as the British government. Its creditors cannot lose anything unless everything it has lent to the public is first lost. No other banking company in England may be established by act of parliament or have more than six members. The bank works not just as an ordinary bank but as a major instrument of the state. It receives and pays most of the annuities owed to the public's creditors. It puts exchequer bills into circulation and advances the government the annual proceeds of the land and malt taxes, often years before those taxes are fully paid. In doing these things, its public duties may sometimes have forced it to put too much paper money into circulation, through no fault of its directors. It also discounts merchants' bills and has several times upheld the credit of leading firms in England, Hamburgh, and Holland. In 1763, it is said to have advanced about £1,600,000 for this purpose in one week, much of it in bullion. But I cannot vouch for either the size of that sum or the shortness of that period. At other times this great company has had to make payments in sixpences.
Even the best banking practices do not increase a country's capital. They increase its industry by putting more of its existing capital to productive use. A dealer must keep some of his capital idle as ready money to meet occasional demands. As long as it sits there, that portion is dead stock: it produces nothing for him or his country. Good banking lets him turn this dead stock into productive stock: materials to work on, tools to work with, and provisions that support work. This stock produces something for him and for his country. Likewise, the gold and silver money circulating through a country distributes the yearly produce of its land and labor to its consumers. Like the dealer's ready money, it is all dead stock. It is a valuable part of national capital, but produces nothing for the country. By replacing much of this gold and silver with paper, good banking lets a country turn much of its dead stock into productive stock that yields something. The gold and silver in circulation are like a highway. The road carries all the country's grass and corn to market, but grows not a single pile of either itself. To stretch the comparison, good banking provides a kind of road for wagons through the air. It lets the country turn much of its highways into useful pasture and cornfields, greatly increasing the yearly output of its land and labor. Still, we must admit that trade and industry, even if they grow somewhat, are less secure when they are carried on paper money's wings, like those of Daedalus, than when they move on the solid ground of gold and silver. Besides the risks caused by poor management of paper money, they face other risks that even the most careful and skilled managers cannot prevent.
Suppose a country loses a war and the enemy captures its capital, along with the treasure backing its paper money. The resulting disruption would be much worse if all its transactions used paper than if most used gold and silver. The usual means of exchange would be worthless. People could trade only by barter or on credit. Since taxes had normally been paid in paper money, the ruler would have no means to pay the troops or stock their supply depots. The country's condition would be much harder to repair than if most transactions had used gold and silver. A ruler who wants his territory always to be as easy to defend as possible must therefore prevent not just an excessive issue of paper money that ruins the issuing banks. He must also prevent issues large enough to make paper the main currency of the country.
Money circulates in every country in two ways: between dealers themselves, and between dealers and consumers. The same coins or notes can be used in either kind of transaction. But both kinds happen at the same time, so each needs its own supply of money, whether paper or metal. The value of goods exchanged between dealers can never exceed the value of goods exchanged between dealers and consumers. Everything dealers buy is ultimately meant for consumers. Wholesale deals between dealers generally need a fairly large sum for each transaction. Retail purchases by consumers, on the other hand, often need only a small sum: a shilling or even a halfpenny may do. Small sums, however, change hands faster than large ones. A shilling changes owners more often than a guinea, and a halfpenny more often than a shilling. So although consumers' total yearly purchases are worth at least as much as dealers' purchases, a much smaller amount of money can generally handle them. By passing quickly from hand to hand, the same pieces of money pay for many more retail than wholesale purchases.
Paper money can be regulated so that it circulates mainly among dealers, or so that it also circulates widely between dealers and consumers. In London, where there are no bank notes below £10, paper money mainly passes between dealers. If a consumer receives a ten pound bank note, he usually has to change it at the first shop where he wants to buy five shillings' worth of goods. It thus often goes back to a dealer before the consumer spends even a fortieth of its value. In Scotland, where notes as small as 20s. are issued, paper money is used considerably in exchanges between dealers and consumers. Before an act of parliament stopped the circulation of ten and five shilling notes, it filled an even larger part of those exchanges. In North America, paper currency was commonly issued in sums as small as a shilling and covered nearly all such exchanges. Some Yorkshire paper currencies were issued in sums as small as a sixpence.
When issuing notes for such tiny sums is allowed and common, many people with very little means can become bankers. Nobody would accept a person's promissory note for £5, or even for 20s., but they will accept one for a sixpence without hesitation. Such impoverished bankers are likely to fail frequently. Their failures may cause considerable hardship, and sometimes disaster, for many poor people who accepted their notes as payment.
Perhaps no bank notes should be issued anywhere in the kingdom for less than £5. Paper money would then probably be limited mainly to transactions between dealers everywhere, as it now is in London, where no notes below £10 are issued. In most of the kingdom, £5 may buy little more than half what £10 buys in London, but people treat it as a substantial sum and are just as unlikely to spend it all at once as Londoners, with their lavish spending, are to spend £10 at once.
When paper money is largely limited to dealings between dealers, as in London, gold and silver are always plentiful. Where paper is widely used 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 trade then uses paper. Banning ten and five shilling notes somewhat eased the shortage of gold and silver in Scotland; banning 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 abolished. They are also said to have been more plentiful before those currencies began.
Even if paper money were largely limited to exchanges between dealers, banks could still do nearly as much for a country's industry and trade as when paper was used for almost all exchanges. Dealers keep ready money to meet occasional demands from other dealers whose goods they buy. They do not need to keep it for dealings with their customers: consumers bring money to the dealers rather than taking it from them. So even if notes could be issued only in sums large enough to keep them mainly in dealers' hands, banks could still discount genuine bills of exchange and make cash-account loans. They could thus spare most dealers from having to leave a substantial amount of stock idle as ready money to meet occasional demands. Banks could still give traders of every kind all the help they properly can.
One might say it plainly violates natural liberty to forbid people to accept a banker's promissory notes as payment, whatever the sum, when they want to accept them. It would likewise violate that liberty to forbid bankers to issue notes that all their neighbors willingly take. The law's proper job is to protect natural liberty, not interfere with it. Such regulations can indeed be seen as restricting liberty in some respect. But every government, free or despotic, does and should restrict the liberty of a few people when exercising it could put the whole community in danger. The requirement to build walls between adjoining properties to keep fire from spreading restricts liberty in exactly the same way as these proposed banking rules.
Bank notes issued by people whose credit is beyond doubt are worth as much as gold and silver money in every respect, provided they are payable on demand without conditions and are in fact always promptly paid when presented. Anyone holding them can get gold and silver money at any time. Goods bought or sold with such paper must therefore be bought or sold at the same price as they would be with 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
Some have argued that more paper money raises the total amount of currency and so lowers its value, inevitably raising the money prices of goods. But every addition of paper to circulation replaces an equal amount of gold and silver. Paper money therefore does not necessarily increase the total amount of currency. From the beginning of the last century to the present, food in Scotland has never been cheaper than it was in 1759. Yet ten and five shilling bank notes meant that more paper money circulated there then than now. Food prices in Scotland bear the same relation to those in England today as they did before the great increase in Scottish banks. Corn is generally at least as cheap in England as in France, although England has a great deal of paper money and France hardly any. When Mr Hume published his Political Discourses in 1751 and 1752, shortly after the great increase in Scottish paper money, food prices did rise noticeably. Bad seasons, rather than more paper money, were probably the cause.
Things would be different if paper money took the form of promissory notes whose immediate payment depended either on the issuer's willingness to pay or on a condition the holder might not be able to meet. The same would be true of notes that could not be redeemed for several years and paid no interest in the meantime. Such paper would certainly be worth less than gold and silver. How much less would depend on how difficult or uncertain people thought immediate payment would be, or on how long they had to wait for payment.
Some years ago, Scottish banks used to put what they called an optional clause in their notes. It promised to pay the bearer either on presentation or, if the directors chose, six months later with the legal interest for those six months. Directors of some banks sometimes used the clause. At other times, when holders demanded gold and silver for a large number of notes, the directors threatened to use it unless the holders accepted only part of the amount demanded. These banks' promissory notes then made up by far the greater part of Scotland's currency. The uncertainty of payment necessarily made them worth less than gold and silver money. During this abuse, mainly in 1762, 1763, and 1764, the exchange rate between London and Carlisle was at par, but the rate between London and Dumfries was sometimes four per cent. against Dumfries. Dumfries is less than thirty miles from Carlisle. Yet bills at Carlisle were paid in gold and silver, while bills at Dumfries were paid in Scottish bank notes. Uncertainty about exchanging those notes for gold and silver coin had lowered their value by four per cent. against coin. The same act of parliament that banned ten and five shilling notes also banned the optional clause. This restored the exchange rate between England and Scotland to its natural level, whatever trade and transfers of money might make that level.
In Yorkshire's paper currencies, even payment of 6d. sometimes required the note's holder to bring the issuer change for a guinea. Holders often found this condition hard to meet. It must have made those notes worth less than gold and silver money. An act of parliament therefore outlawed such clauses and, as in Scotland, banned all promissory notes payable to the bearer for less than 20s.
North American paper currencies were not bank notes payable to the bearer on demand. They were government paper that could not be redeemed until several years after issue. The colonial governments paid no interest on them. Yet they declared them legal tender for their full stated value and enforced that rule. Even if a colony's promise to pay were completely sound, £100 due in fifteen years would be worth little more than £40 in cash now in a country where interest is six per cent. Forcing a creditor to accept such paper as full payment for a £100 debt originally paid in ready money was a severe injustice. Hardly any other government claiming to be free has perhaps attempted one like it. It clearly bears the marks of what the frank and honest Doctor Douglas tells us it was at first: a plan by dishonest debtors to cheat their creditors. When Pennsylvania first issued paper money in 1722, its government tried to make the paper equal in value to gold and silver. It imposed penalties on sellers who set different prices for goods in colonial paper and in gold and silver. This rule was equally tyrannical but far less effective than the legal-tender rule it was meant to support. A law can make a shilling legal tender for a guinea by ordering courts to release debtors who offer that payment. But no law can make sellers who are free to sell or refuse a sale treat a shilling as equal to a guinea when pricing their goods. Despite such rules, exchange rates with Great Britain showed that £100 sterling was sometimes treated as equal to £130 in the currency of some colonies, and as much as £1100 in others. The difference in value reflected how much paper each colony issued and how remote and uncertain its eventual repayment was.
No law, then, could have been fairer than the act of parliament that the colonies complained of so unjustly. It declared that no paper currency issued there in the future could be legal tender for payment.
Pennsylvania was always more restrained than our other colonies in issuing paper money. Its paper currency is therefore said never to have fallen below the value of the gold and silver circulating there before paper was first issued. Before that first issue, the colony had raised the stated value of its coin. An act of its assembly made 5s. sterling pass in the colonies for 6s:3d., and later for 6s:8d. Thus a pound of colonial currency, even when it was gold and silver, was worth more than thirty per cent. less than £1 sterling. Once that currency became paper, it was seldom worth much more than thirty per cent. less. The stated reason for raising the value assigned to coins was to prevent gold and silver from leaving. The same amounts of those metals would count for more money in the colony than in the mother country. But prices of goods from the mother country rose in exactly the same proportion as the stated value of the coin. Gold and silver therefore left just as quickly as before.
Each colony accepted its own paper at full stated value for provincial taxes. This gave the paper some value beyond what it would have had given the actual or expected wait for its final repayment and redemption. The amount of that added value depended on how far the paper issued exceeded the amount usable for paying that colony's taxes. In every colony, the issue greatly exceeded what could be used that way.
A ruler could give a certain value to a particular kind of paper money by requiring that a fixed share of taxes be paid in it. That could work even if redemption depended entirely on his wishes. If the issuing bank kept the quantity of paper somewhat below what people could readily use to pay taxes, demand might even make it sell at a premium. It might fetch more in the market than the amount of gold or silver currency for which it was issued. Some people use this argument to explain the agio of the bank of Amsterdam: the higher value of bank money over ordinary money. They claim that owners cannot take this bank money out of the bank whenever they wish. Most foreign bills of exchange must be paid in bank money by transferring entries in the bank's books. According to these people, the directors keep the quantity of bank money below the demand created by that use. They say this explains why bank money sells at a premium, or has an agio of four or five per cent. above the same stated amount in the country's circulating gold and silver. As will become clear later, however, this account of the bank of Amsterdam is largely imaginary.
When paper money is worth less than gold and silver coin, that does not lower the value of those metals or make equal amounts of them exchange for fewer goods of other kinds. The relative value of gold and silver and other goods never depends on the type or quantity of paper money circulating in a particular country. It depends on how rich or poor the mines are that supply those metals to the world's great commercial market at the time. That determines the amount of labor needed to bring a given quantity of gold and silver to market compared with the labor needed to bring a given quantity of other goods there.
Banking can safely be left entirely free in every other respect if two rules are enforced. Bankers must not issue circulating notes payable to the bearer below a specified sum, and they must pay all such notes immediately and unconditionally when presented. Many people have been alarmed by the recent increase in the number of banks in both parts of the united kingdom. But it increases public security rather than reducing it. Competition makes each bank act more carefully. Each must keep its notes in circulation in proper proportion to its cash reserves so that it can withstand hostile demands for payment that its numerous rivals are always ready to provoke. Competition also keeps each bank's notes within a narrower area and reduces their number. Dividing all circulating notes among more banks means that the failure of any one bank, which must sometimes happen, matters less to the public. Free competition also makes banks more generous to their customers for fear that rivals will take those customers away. In general, whenever a branch of trade or a division of labor benefits the public, freer and more widespread competition increases that benefit.
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
On the Accumulation of Capital, or Productive and Unproductive Labor.
One kind of labor adds value to what it works on; another does not. Because the first produces value, we can call it productive labor and the second unproductive labor. [Some learned and ingenious French writers use these terms differently. In the last chapter of the fourth book, I will try to show why their meaning is wrong.] A manufacturing worker, for example, usually adds enough value to the materials to cover the worker's own upkeep and the employer's profit. A household servant's work, by contrast, adds value to nothing. The employer advances the manufacturing worker's wages, but the worker does not really cost the employer anything. The increased value of the finished material generally pays back those wages with a profit. The cost of supporting a household servant is never paid back in this way. A person grows rich by employing many manufacturing workers but poor by keeping many household servants. A servant's labor still has value and deserves payment just as a manufacturing worker's does. But a manufacturing worker's labor is fixed in a particular object or saleable product that lasts at least some time after the work is done. It is as though some labor has been stored for use on another occasion if needed. The object, or the money received for it, can later pay for as much labor as it originally took to make it. A household servant's labor is not fixed in any saleable object. The service usually disappears the moment it is given. It seldom leaves any value that could later buy an equal amount of service.
The work of some of society's most respected groups resembles that of household servants in this respect. It produces no value fixed in a lasting, saleable object that could later pay for an equal amount of labor. A sovereign, the officers of justice and war serving that sovereign, and the entire army and navy are unproductive laborers. They serve the public and are supported by a share of what other people's industry produces each year. Their services may be honorable, useful, or necessary. Yet those services produce nothing that can later pay for an equal amount of service. This year's work of protecting and defending the country cannot buy protection and defense next year. This group also includes some of the most serious and important professions and some of the most frivolous: clergy, lawyers, physicians, writers of every kind, actors, buffoons, musicians, opera singers, opera dancers, etc. Even the least respected of these workers does valuable work whose price follows the same principles as the price of any other labor. Yet even the most respected and useful produces nothing that can later buy an equal amount of labor. The work of all these people vanishes as soon as it is done, like an actor's speech, an orator's address, or a musician's tune.
Productive workers, unproductive workers, and people who do no work are all supported by what the country's land and labor produce each year. However large that output is, it has limits. The more of it that supports unproductive people in any year, the less is left to support productive workers, and the smaller the next year's output will be. If less supports unproductive people, more is left for productive workers and the next year's output will be greater. Apart from what the earth produces by itself, all yearly output results from productive labor.
Everything a country's land and labor produce each year is ultimately meant for its inhabitants to consume and to receive as revenue. Yet when this output first comes from the ground or the hands of productive workers, it naturally falls into two parts. One part, often the larger, replaces capital: it renews the provisions, materials, and finished goods taken from that capital. The other provides revenue, either to the owner of that capital as profit on stock or to another person as rent for land. Part of a farm's output, for instance, replaces the farmer's capital. The rest pays the farmer's profit and the landlord's rent, giving revenue to both. Likewise, one part of a large factory's output, always the larger part, replaces the owner's capital. The rest pays the owner's profit and provides revenue on that capital.
The part of a country's yearly output that replaces capital is immediately used only to support productive workers. It pays only their wages. The part immediately intended to provide revenue, whether as profit or rent, can support productive or unproductive workers.
When someone uses a portion of stock as capital, he expects to get it back with a profit. He therefore uses it only to support productive workers. After it has served as his capital, it becomes their revenue. If he uses any of it to support unproductive workers, that part immediately leaves his capital and becomes stock set aside for immediate consumption.
Unproductive workers and people who do no work are all supported by revenue. One source is the part of yearly output originally intended as someone's revenue, either land rent or profit on stock. Another source is the part originally meant to replace capital and support productive workers. Once those workers receive it, however, they can spend anything beyond what they need to live on productive or unproductive workers. Thus even an ordinary worker with substantial wages, not just a great landlord or a rich merchant, may keep a household servant. He may sometimes go to a play or a puppet show and help support one group of unproductive workers. Or he may pay taxes and help support another group that is more honorable and useful but just as unproductive. Still, no part of the yearly output originally meant to replace capital supports unproductive workers until it has set in motion all the productive labor it could support in its original use. Workers have to earn their wages by doing the work before they can spend any of those wages this way. The portion they can spend is usually small. It is only their spare revenue, and productive workers seldom have much of that. They generally have some, though. When they pay taxes, their large numbers can partly make up for their small individual payments. So rent from land and profits on stock are everywhere the chief sources of support for unproductive workers. People receiving these two kinds of revenue generally have the most to spare. They could use either kind to support productive or unproductive workers. Yet they seem to favor the latter. A great lord's spending usually feeds more idle people than industrious ones. A rich merchant supports only industrious people through his capital, but by spending his revenue he usually feeds the same kind of people as a great lord.
The balance between productive and unproductive workers in a country thus depends heavily on the balance between two parts of its yearly output. The first part is set aside to replace capital as soon as it leaves the ground or the hands of productive workers. The second becomes revenue as rent or profit. That balance differs greatly between rich and poor countries.
In Europe's wealthy countries today, a very large part, often the largest part, of the land's output replaces the capital of a prosperous, independent farmer. The rest pays his profit and the landlord's rent. Long ago, under feudal government, very little output was needed to replace the capital used in farming. That capital usually consisted of a few poor animals fed entirely by plants growing on uncultivated land; the animals could therefore be counted as part of that natural output. They generally belonged to the landlord, who supplied them to those farming his land. All the rest of the output really belonged to the landlord too, as rent for his land or profit on his tiny capital. Most people farming the land were bonded laborers, and the landlord owned their persons and possessions alike. Those who were not bonded laborers were tenants who could be dismissed at will. Their nominal rent was often hardly more than a payment acknowledging the landlord's rights, but in reality they paid him the entire output of the land. Their lord could demand their labor in peacetime and their military service in wartime whenever he wished. They might live far from his house, but they depended on him as completely as the retainers who lived there. All the land's output surely belongs to the person who controls the work and service of everyone it supports. Today in Europe, a landlord's share seldom exceeds a third and sometimes is less than a fourth of the total output of the land. Yet rent in every improved area has tripled or quadrupled since those earlier times. This third or fourth of yearly output is apparently three or four times as large as the entire output used to be. As farming improves, rent rises with the area of land but falls as a share of its output.
In wealthy European countries, large amounts of capital now go into trade and manufacturing. In earlier times, the little trade and the few simple, rough manufacturing activities required only small amounts of capital. Yet they must have earned very large profits. Interest rates were nowhere below ten per cent., so profits must have been high enough to pay that much interest. Today, in Europe's more developed areas, interest is nowhere above six per cent. In some of the most developed, it is as low as four, three, and two per cent. Rich countries always get much more revenue from profits on stock than poor ones because their stock is much larger. But profit as a proportion of stock is generally much smaller.
So rich countries set aside far more of the output that comes from the ground or productive workers to replace capital than poor countries do. They also set aside a much larger share for that purpose relative to the portion that immediately becomes rent or profit. Their funds for supporting productive workers are much larger, both outright and compared with funds that can support either productive or unproductive workers but are usually spent on the latter.
The balance between these funds necessarily shapes how hardworking or idle a country's inhabitants tend to be. We work harder than our ancestors because the funds supporting industry are now much larger, compared with the funds likely to support idleness, than they were two or three centuries ago. Our ancestors had little incentive to work and so were idle. As the proverb says, it is better to play for nothing than work for nothing. In commercial and manufacturing towns, where capital provides most lower-ranking people's livelihood, they are generally hardworking, restrained, and prosperous. That is true of many English towns and most Dutch ones. In towns mainly supported by a royal court living there regularly or occasionally, revenue spending provides most lower-ranking people's livelihood. They are generally idle, undisciplined, and poor, as in Rome, Versailles, Compeigne, and Fontainbleau. Apart from Rouen and Bourdeaux, France's towns with parliaments have little trade or industry. Their lower-ranking inhabitants generally live on spending by court officials and the people who come to plead before them, and are idle and poor. Rouen and Bourdeaux owe their large trade entirely, it seems, to their locations. Rouen has to be the trading center for nearly all the goods brought from foreign countries or France's coastal provinces for consumption in the great city of Paris. Bourdeaux is likewise the trading center for wines grown beside the Garronne and the rivers flowing into it. This is one of the world's richest wine regions, and it seems to produce the wine best suited to export and to foreign tastes. Such favorable locations attract much capital because they offer it so many uses. The use of that capital makes those two cities industrious. France's other towns with parliaments seem to employ little more capital than they need to supply their own consumption—the smallest amount they could employ. The same can be said of Paris, Madrid, and Vienna. Paris is much the most industrious of those three cities, but it is itself the main market for the goods made there, and its own consumption is the main purpose of its trade. London, Lisbon, and Copenhagen may be the only three European cities that both house a court permanently and trade not just to supply themselves but also to supply other cities and countries. All three are exceptionally well placed to serve as trading centers for many goods intended for distant consumers. In a city where people spend a great deal of revenue, it is probably harder to put capital to profitable use in anything besides supplying the city itself than in a city where lower-ranking people live only on work funded by capital. The idleness of most people supported by revenue spending probably undermines the work habits of those who ought to live on work funded by capital. It makes investing capital there less profitable than investing it elsewhere. Edinburgh had little trade or industry before the Union. Once the Scotch parliament stopped meeting there and Scotland's leading nobles and gentry no longer needed to live there, the city developed some trade and industry. Still, Edinburgh remains home to Scotland's principal courts of justice, its customs and excise boards, etc., so a considerable amount of revenue is still spent there. It has far less trade and industry than Glasgow, where capital-funded work supports most inhabitants. People have sometimes observed that a large village, after making considerable progress in manufacturing, became idle and poor when a great lord moved into the 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 balance between capital and revenue therefore seems to determine the balance between productive work and idleness everywhere. Where capital is greater, productive work thrives. Where revenue is greater, idleness thrives. So any rise or fall in capital tends to raise or lower the actual amount of productive work and the number of productive workers. It also changes the exchangeable value of the yearly output of a country's land and labor—that is, the real wealth and revenue of all its people.
Saving increases capital. Wasteful spending and poor management reduce it.
Whatever a person saves from his revenue becomes part of his capital. He either uses it himself to support more productive workers or lends it at interest so that someone else can do so. That interest is a share of the profits. An individual's capital can grow only through savings from his yearly revenue or gains. In the same way, a society's capital, which is the combined capital of its members, can grow only through savings.
Saving, not work, is the direct cause of an increase in capital. Work produces what saving puts aside. But however much work earns, capital will not grow unless people save and store some of it.
Saving increases the funds available to support productive workers. This tends to increase the number of workers whose labor adds value to what they work on. So it tends to raise the exchangeable value of a country's yearly output of land and labor. It sets more people to productive work, adding more value to that yearly output.
What people save each year is consumed just as surely, and almost as soon, as what they spend. But different people consume it. The portion a rich man spends each year is usually consumed by idle guests and household servants, who produce nothing in return. The portion he saves is immediately used as capital for the sake of profit. It is consumed in much the same way and almost as soon, but by laborers, manufacturers, and craftspeople. Their work replaces the value of what they consume each year and adds a profit. Suppose his revenue is paid in money. If he spent it all, the food, clothing, and lodging that money could buy would go to the first group. If he saves some, either he or another person immediately puts that part to work as capital for profit. The food, clothing, and lodging it buys must then go to the second group. The same amount is consumed, but by different people.
Each year's savings by a frugal man support more productive workers in the following year. They also establish, much like the founder of a public workhouse, a lasting fund to support the same number of workers in every later year. No law, trust right, or deed placing property in perpetual ownership necessarily protects this fund and reserves it for that purpose. But something powerful always does: the clear self-interest of everyone who will ever own a share of it. If any of it is later used to support anyone other than productive workers, the person who diverts it suffers a clear loss.
A wasteful spender diverts it in just this way. He spends more than his income and eats into his capital. He is like someone who uses the revenue of a charitable religious foundation for secular purposes. He pays for idleness with funds that his ancestors' frugality had, in a sense, set aside to support work. He reduces the funds available to employ productive labor. To the extent that he can affect it, he therefore reduces the labor that adds value to the things it works on. As a result, he reduces the value of the country's yearly output of land and labor, the real wealth and revenue of its people. If other people's savings did not offset such waste, every wasteful spender would feed idle people with the food earned by working people. He would tend to impoverish both himself and his country.
Even if a wasteful spender bought only goods made at home, and no foreign goods, the effect on society's funds for production would be the same. Each year, some food and clothing that should have supported productive workers would instead support unproductive ones. So the value of the country's yearly output of land and labor would be less than it otherwise would have been.
Someone might say that if the spender buys no foreign goods, no gold or silver leaves the country, and the amount of money there stays the same. But if productive workers had received the food and clothing consumed by unproductive people, they would have produced goods worth the full value of what they consumed, plus a profit. The same amount of money would still have stayed in the country, while an equal value of usable goods would also have been produced. There would have been two values rather than one.
Besides, the same amount of money cannot remain for long in a country whose yearly output is losing value. Money's only purpose is to circulate goods people can use. People use it to buy, sell, and distribute provisions, materials, and finished goods to their consumers. So the value of the consumable goods circulated each year determines how much money a country can use for that circulation. Those goods must either be the direct output of its own land and labor or be bought with some of that output. If the value of its output falls, the value of those goods falls too, along with the amount of money needed to circulate them. But the money pushed out of domestic circulation each year by declining output will not sit idle. Its owners want to use it. With no use for it at home, they will send it abroad despite laws and prohibitions, to buy consumable goods that may be useful at home. For a while, this yearly export of money will add to the country's yearly consumption beyond the value of its own yearly output. During prosperous times the country saved some of its output and used it to buy gold and silver. In hard times, that gold and silver can help support consumption for a little while. In this case exporting gold and silver is not the cause of the decline but its result, and may even ease its hardship for a short time.
Conversely, the amount of money in any country naturally grows when the value of its yearly output grows. A greater value of consumable goods circulates through society each year, so more money is needed to circulate them. Part of the added output will naturally go toward buying the extra gold and silver needed for this purpose, wherever it is available. The increased supply of those metals is thus a result of public prosperity, not its cause. Gold and silver are bought in the same way everywhere. The price paid for them, in Peru as in England, is the food, clothing, and lodging that support everyone whose labor or stock helps bring the metals from mine to market. A country able to pay that price will never long lack the amount of those metals it needs. Nor will any country long keep more than it needs.
So however we define a country's real wealth and revenue—by the value of its yearly output of land and labor, as plain reason suggests, or by the amount of precious metal circulating in it, as common prejudice supposes—the wasteful spender is an enemy of the public, and the frugal person benefits it.
Poor management often has the same effect as wasteful spending. Every badly planned and unsuccessful venture in farming, mining, fishing, trade, or manufacturing tends to reduce the funds available to support productive labor. In these ventures, productive workers do consume the capital. But because it is badly used, they do not replace the full value of what they consume. Society therefore loses some of the funds it would otherwise have had for production.
Yet the waste or bad management of individuals can rarely have much effect on a great nation's circumstances. Other people's thrift and good management more than make up for some people's extravagance and poor judgment.
As for extravagant spending, the urge behind it is the desire to enjoy the present. That urge can be intense and hard to restrain, but it is usually temporary and occasional. The urge to save, by contrast, comes from the desire to improve our situation. This desire is usually calm, but it stays with us from birth to death. Perhaps scarcely anyone is ever so completely satisfied with his circumstances during his whole life that he wants no change or improvement at all. Most people hope to improve their situation by increasing their wealth. This is the most common and obvious way. The likeliest way to increase wealth is to save and build up some of what one earns, either regularly each year or on some special occasion. So although nearly everyone sometimes wants to spend, and some people want to spend almost all the time, most people over the course of a whole life seem far more inclined to save than to spend.
As for poor management, careful and successful ventures far outnumber badly judged and unsuccessful ones everywhere. We complain often about bankruptcies, but those who suffer them are only a tiny part of everyone engaged in trade and other businesses—perhaps not much more than one in a thousand. Bankruptcy may be the worst and most humiliating disaster that can happen to an innocent person. Most people therefore take enough care to avoid it. Some do not, just as some do not avoid the gallows.
Private waste and poor management never impoverish great nations, though public waste and poor management sometimes do. In most countries, all or nearly all public revenue supports unproductive people. These include the members of a large, splendid court and a large religious establishment, as well as large fleets and armies. In peacetime the fleets and armies produce nothing; in wartime they gain nothing that can make up for their cost, even during the war itself. Because these people produce nothing themselves, other people's labor supports them. If their numbers become unnecessarily large, they may consume so much of one year's output that too little remains to support the productive workers who should replace that output the next year. The next year's output will then be smaller, and if the problem continues, output in the third year will be smaller still. These unproductive people should be supported by only a portion of the people's spare revenue. But they may consume so much of their total revenue that many people must draw on their capital, the funds meant to support productive labor. Their forced use of capital may cause a loss and deterioration of output too great for all the thrift and good management of individuals to offset.
Experience shows, however, that private thrift and good management are usually enough to offset not only other individuals' waste and poor management but also government extravagance. Each person's steady, continual effort to improve his situation is the source of national as well as private wealth. This effort is often strong enough to keep a country moving toward improvement despite extravagant government spending and the greatest mistakes in administration. Like the mysterious principle of life in an animal, it often restores the body's health and strength despite both its illness and the doctor's foolish treatments.
A nation's yearly output of land and labor can gain value only by increasing either the number of productive workers or the amount each worker can produce. The number of productive workers cannot rise much unless capital rises too, increasing the funds that support them. The same number of workers can produce more only if their machines and tools are improved or added to, making work easier and shorter, or if work is divided and assigned more effectively. Either way, more capital is almost always needed. Only with additional capital can someone running an enterprise supply better machinery or assign work among employees more effectively. When a job has many parts, keeping each person working on one part all the time takes much more capital than having everyone work on different parts as needed. Suppose, then, that we compare a nation at two different times. If its yearly output of land and labor is clearly greater at the later time, its land is better cultivated, its manufacturing is more extensive and thriving, and its trade has expanded, we can be sure its capital has grown between those times. The good management of some people must have added more to it than others' poor management or government extravagance took away. This is what we find in almost all nations during reasonably peaceful times, even those without especially prudent or frugal governments. To judge it properly, though, we must compare times that are fairly far apart. Progress is often so gradual that it cannot be seen over a short interval. Sometimes particular industries or parts of a country decline even while the country as a whole prospers greatly. Such declines often make people suspect that the entire country's wealth and productive work are shrinking.
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
England's yearly output of land and labor, for example, is certainly much greater now than it was a little more than a century ago, when Charles II was restored to the throne. I believe few people now doubt this. Yet during that period, hardly five years passed without a book or pamphlet claiming to show that the nation was quickly growing poorer. These publications said that the population was shrinking, farming was neglected, manufacturing was declining, and trade was ruined. Some were written so well that the public took them seriously. Nor were they all partisan pamphlets produced by dishonesty and people willing to write for money. Many were written by sincere and intelligent people who said only what they believed, simply because they believed it.
England's yearly output of land and labor was also certainly much greater at the Restoration than we can suppose it was about a hundred years earlier, when Elizabeth came to the throne. And there is every reason to believe the country was much more developed under Elizabeth than it had been roughly a century before, near the end of the conflict between the houses of York and Lancaster. Even then, it was probably better off than at the Norman conquest. At the Norman conquest it was probably better off than during the turmoil of the Saxon heptarchy. Even in that early period, England was certainly more developed than it had been when Julius Caesar invaded and its inhabitants lived in nearly the same condition as the people then called savages in North America.
Yet every one of these periods saw great private and public extravagance. There were many expensive, unnecessary wars, and much of the yearly output was diverted from supporting productive workers to supporting unproductive ones. At times, civil conflict brought such complete waste and destruction of stock that we might expect the country to have ended the period poorer than it began, not merely to have accumulated wealth more slowly, as it certainly did. Consider the happiest and most fortunate period of all, the time since the Restoration. How many disasters occurred that, had people foreseen them, would have made them expect not just poverty but the country's complete ruin? There were the fire and plague of London, the two Dutch wars, the turmoil of the revolution, the war in Ireland, the four expensive French wars of 1688, 1701, 1742, and 1756, and the two rebellions of 1715 and 1745. In the four French wars, the nation took on more than £145,000,000 in debt, in addition to all the other unusual yearly costs they caused. The total cost cannot be put below £200,000,000. Since the Revolution, a large part of the yearly output of the country's land and labor has at different times supported unusually many unproductive people. Without those wars directing so much capital to that purpose, most of it would naturally have supported productive workers. Their labor would have replaced everything they consumed and added a profit. The country's yearly output would have grown substantially in value each year, and each year's growth would have increased the next year's growth still further. More houses would have been built and more land improved. Previously improved land would have been farmed better. More manufacturing businesses would have been established, and existing ones expanded. It is hard even to imagine how high the country's real wealth and revenue might now be.
Government extravagance must have slowed England's natural progress toward wealth and development, but it has not stopped it. The yearly output of its land and labor is certainly much greater now than it was at either the Restoration or the Revolution. So the capital used each year to cultivate the land and support that labor must also be much greater. Despite all the government's demands for money, individuals have quietly and gradually built up this capital by saving and managing their affairs well. They have done so through their shared, constant, unbroken effort to improve their own situation. That effort, protected by law and free to work in the most useful way, has kept England moving toward wealth and development in nearly every earlier period. We may hope it will continue to do so. Yet England has never had a very frugal government, and its people have never been especially noted for thrift either. So it is presumptuous in the extreme for kings and ministers to claim they must oversee private people's household spending and limit it with laws against luxury or bans on imported luxuries. They themselves are, without exception, society's biggest spenders. Let them take care of their own expenses and trust private people to take care of theirs. If their own extravagance does not ruin the state, private extravagance never will.
Saving increases society's capital, and wasteful spending reduces it. But people who spend exactly what they earn, neither putting money aside nor drawing on capital, neither increase nor reduce it. Still, some kinds of spending seem to help a country grow wealthier more than others.
A person can spend revenue on things consumed at once. With these, one day's spending can neither ease nor add to the effect of the next day's spending. Or he can spend it on more durable things that build up over time. Then, as he chooses, each day's spending can ease, sustain, or increase the effect of what he spends the next day. A rich man, for instance, might spend his revenue on lavish meals and on keeping many household servants, dogs, and horses. Or he might keep his meals simple and employ few attendants. He could then spend most of his revenue on improving his home or country villa, putting up useful or decorative buildings, buying useful or decorative furniture, and collecting books, statues, and paintings. He might instead buy less useful things: jewels, baubles, and clever trinkets of various kinds. Most trivial of all, he might build up a huge wardrobe of fine clothes, as the favorite and minister of a great prince who died a few years ago did. Imagine two equally wealthy men who spend mainly in these two different ways. The possessions of the one who mostly buys durable goods would become grander all the time, as each day's purchases add to what he has already acquired. The possessions of the other would be no grander at the end than at the start. The first man would also be wealthier at the end. He would own a stock of goods that might not be worth all he paid but would still be worth something. Nothing would remain of the second man's spending. Ten or twenty years of lavish expense would have vanished as completely as if it had never occurred.
The kind of spending that does more for a person's wealth also does more for a nation's. Rich people's houses, furniture, and clothing soon become useful to people of the middle and lower ranks. Those people can buy these things when their earlier owners grow tired of them. When the rich generally spend in this way, the whole population gradually gains better places to live and things to use. In countries that have long been wealthy, poorer people often have sturdy houses and furniture that would never have been built or made for them originally. A former home of the Seymour family is now an inn on the Bath road. The marriage bed of James I. of Great Britain, brought from Denmark by his queen as a gift fit for one sovereign to give another, stood a few years ago as a decoration in an alehouse in Dunfermline. In some old cities that have long stood still or declined somewhat, you can scarcely find a single house that could have been built for its present occupants. Inside, too, you will often see fine but old-fashioned furniture that remains perfectly usable, though it could no more have been made for them than the houses were. Grand palaces, splendid villas, and large collections of books, statues, paintings, and other curiosities often bring beauty and honor not only to their neighborhood but to their whole country. Versailles brings beauty and honor to France, as Stowe and Wilton do to England. Italy still inspires a kind of respect because of its many such monuments, even though the wealth that made them has faded and the talent that designed them seems to have died out, perhaps for lack of similar work.
Spending on durable goods also encourages thrift as well as the accumulation of goods. If someone spends too much on them, he can easily stop without drawing public criticism. If he sharply cuts the number of his servants, replaces lavish meals with simple ones, or gives up his carriage after taking one up, his neighbors will notice. They will assume he is admitting that he previously spent badly. Few people who have gone too far with this kind of spending have the courage to cut back until ruin and bankruptcy force them to. But if someone has spent too much on building, furniture, books, or paintings, nobody need conclude that he was reckless when he stops. Earlier purchases often make further purchases unnecessary. When he stops, it looks as if he has satisfied his tastes rather than exhausted his means.
Spending on durable goods also usually supports more people than even the most lavish entertaining does. At a great feast, perhaps half of the two or three hundred weight of provisions served ends up on the waste heap. Much is always wasted or misused. If the same money were instead spent hiring masons, carpenters, upholsterers, mechanics, etc., an equal value of provisions would go to even more people. They would buy it a pennyworth or a pound at a time, without losing or throwing away a single ounce. In the latter case, moreover, the spending supports productive workers. At the feast, it supports unproductive people. So the latter kind of spending increases the exchangeable value of a country's yearly output of land and labor, while the feast does not.
I do not mean that spending on durable goods always shows a more generous spirit than spending on hospitality. When a rich man spends mainly on entertaining, he shares much of his revenue with friends and companions. When he buys durable goods, he often spends all of it on himself and gives nothing to anyone without receiving something in return. Spending on durable goods, especially frivolous things such as small decorations for clothing and furniture, jewels, trinkets, and baubles, can therefore reveal not just shallow tastes but a selfish and mean character. My point is only that this spending helps a country grow wealthier more than the other kind does. It leaves behind some valuable goods, makes private thrift easier and thus helps increase society's capital, and supports productive rather than unproductive workers.
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
The lender always treats stock lent at interest as capital. He expects to get it back when the loan is due. Meanwhile, the borrower pays him a fixed yearly rent for its use. The borrower can use it either as capital or as stock set aside for immediate consumption. If he uses it as capital, it supports productive laborers, who replace its value and add a profit. He can then repay the capital and interest without selling anything else that brings him revenue or drawing on it. If he uses it for immediate consumption, he behaves like a wasteful spender. He uses what should have supported working people to support idle ones. He cannot then repay the capital or interest without selling or drawing on some other source of revenue, such as property or rent from land.
Lent stock is sometimes used in both ways, but much more often as capital. A man who borrows to spend will soon be ruined. His lender will usually regret lending to him. So, leaving aside grossly excessive interest, borrowing or lending for that purpose is against the interests of both parties. Of course people sometimes do it. But since everyone cares about his own interests, it cannot happen nearly as often as we might imagine. Ask any reasonably careful rich man whether he has lent most of his stock to people he thinks will use it profitably or to people who will spend it idly. He will laugh at the question. Thus, even among borrowers, who are hardly famous for thrift, careful and hardworking people greatly outnumber wasteful and idle ones.
The only people commonly lent stock without being expected to make much profit from it are country gentlemen who borrow against their property. Even they hardly ever borrow simply to spend. You might say they usually spend the money before they borrow it. They have already consumed so many goods supplied on credit by shopkeepers and tradesmen that they must borrow at interest to pay their debts. The borrowed capital replaces the shopkeepers' and tradesmen's capital, which the gentlemen could not repay from the rent on their estates. The borrowing does not really pay for new spending. It replaces capital already spent.
Nearly all interest-bearing loans are made in money, either paper money or gold and silver. But what the borrower really wants, and the lender effectively gives him, is not money itself. It is what money can buy: goods. If the borrower wants stock for immediate consumption, only goods can fill that stock. If he wants capital to employ workers, only goods can supply those workers with the tools, materials, and support they need. Through a loan, the lender effectively transfers to the borrower his claim to part of the country's yearly output of land and labor, to use as the borrower wishes.
So the amount of stock that can be lent at interest in a country—often called the amount of money available to lend—is not determined by the value of the paper or coin used to make its loans. It is determined by the value of a part of its yearly output. This part, as soon as it comes from the land or from productive workers' hands, is intended to replace capital whose owners do not want to employ it themselves. Since these capitals are usually lent and repaid in money, they make up what is called the monied interest. That group is distinct from landowners and also from traders and manufacturers, since the latter use their own capital themselves. Yet even for the monied interest, money is only like a document that transfers ownership: it moves capital from an owner who does not wish to employ it to someone who does. That capital can be many times more valuable than the money used to transfer it. The same money can pass through many loans, just as it can pay for many purchases. For instance, A lends W £1000. W immediately spends it to buy £1000 worth of goods from B. B does not need the money himself, so he lends those very same coins or notes to X. X immediately buys another £1000 worth of goods from C. For the same reason, C lends the money to Y, who buys goods from D. Over a few days the same pieces of coin or paper can thus be used for three separate loans and three separate purchases. Each purchase has a value equal to the full sum of that money. What the three lenders, A, B, and C, gave the three borrowers, W, X, and Y, was the ability to make these purchases. That ability is what makes the loans valuable and useful. The stock the three lenders have lent equals the value of all the goods bought with it, three times the value of the money used to buy them. All these loans may nevertheless be fully secured. The borrowers can use the goods they buy in ways that will eventually return an equal value in coin or paper, with a profit. And just as the same money can make loans worth three times its value—or, for the same reason, thirty times its value—it can also be used in turn to repay them.
A capital lent at interest can thus be seen as a transfer from lender to borrower of a substantial part of the yearly output. In return, while the loan lasts, the borrower transfers a small part to the lender each year, called interest. At the end, he transfers back an equally substantial part, called repayment. Coin or paper money generally serves as the document transferring both the smaller and larger portions. But the money is not itself what is transferred.
As the share of a country's yearly output set aside to replace capital grows, so does the monied interest. This output is set aside as soon as it comes from the land or the hands of productive workers. Growth in capital whose owners want to earn revenue without employing it themselves naturally accompanies the general growth of capital. In other words, as stock grows, more stock gradually becomes available to lend at interest.
As more stock becomes available to lend, the interest charged for using it must fall. This happens partly because prices generally fall when the supply of something rises. But there are also reasons specific to lending. As capital grows in a country, the profits that can be earned by using it must fall. It becomes increasingly hard to find a profitable use within the country for new capital. Owners of different capitals begin to compete. Each wants a share of the business in which another owner's capital is already at work. Usually he can displace that owner only by offering better terms. He has to sell his goods a little cheaper and may sometimes have to pay more to buy the goods he sells. Meanwhile, as the funds available to support productive labor grow, demand for workers keeps rising. Workers easily find jobs, while owners of capital struggle to find workers to hire. Competition among owners raises wages and lowers profits from stock. With profits squeezed in both these ways, the price paid to use capital—that is, the interest rate—must fall too.
Mr Locke, Mr Lawe, Mr Montesquieu, and many other writers seem to have thought that interest rates fell across much of Europe because more gold and silver became available after the discovery of the Spanish West Indies. They say those metals lost value, so the use of a given amount of them was also worth less. Consequently, people would pay less for that use. Mr Hume has so thoroughly shown what is wrong with this seemingly convincing idea that there may be no need to say more about it. Still, the following short and simple argument may make clearer the mistake that seems to have misled these writers.
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, the usual interest rate across most of Europe seems to have been ten per cent. Since then, it has fallen to six, five, four, and three per cent. in different countries. Suppose that, in each country, silver lost value at exactly the same rate as interest fell. In countries where interest fell from ten to five per cent., for example, suppose the same amount of silver now buys only half as many goods as before. I do not think this is true anywhere. But it gives the strongest possible case for the view we are examining. Even then, a fall in silver’s value could not possibly cause interest rates to fall. If £100 now has only the value that £50 had then, £10 now must have only the value that £5 had then. Whatever reduced the value of the capital must also have reduced the value of the interest by exactly the same proportion. Their relative values would remain unchanged if the interest rate stayed the same. Changing the rate, by contrast, necessarily changes their relative values. If £100 now is worth no more than £50 was then, £5 now can be worth no more than £2:10s. was then. So by cutting interest from ten to five per cent., we pay for the use of capital worth supposedly half its former value with interest worth only a fourth as much as the former interest.
If the amount of silver increased while the amount of goods it circulated stayed the same, the only effect would be to reduce silver’s value. The money prices of all kinds of goods would rise, but their real value would stay exactly the same. They would trade for more pieces of silver, but they would still command the same amount of labor and support and employ the same number of people. The country’s capital would be the same, though transferring any given share of it might require more pieces of silver. The papers used to transfer ownership would grow longer, like a long-winded attorney’s documents. But what was transferred would remain the same and could have only the same effects. The funds available to support productive labor would be unchanged, so demand for that labor would be unchanged. Its price, or wages, would therefore be higher in money but unchanged in real terms. Workers would get more pieces of silver, but those pieces would buy only the same amount of goods. The profits of stock would remain the same, both in money terms and in real terms. We usually calculate workers’ wages by how much silver they receive. When that amount rises, their wages appear to rise, even though they may be no higher than before. But we calculate the profits of stock not by the number of silver pieces received, but by the ratio of those pieces to the entire capital invested. For example, a country may have usual wages of 5s. a week and usual profits on stock of ten per cent. If the country’s total capital is unchanged, competition among the different individual capitals that make it up will also be unchanged. All will trade with the same advantages and disadvantages as before. So the usual ratio of capital to profit will stay the same, as will the usual interest rate on money. What people normally can pay to use money necessarily depends on what they can normally earn by using it.
Now suppose the amount of goods circulated annually within a country increased while the money circulating them stayed the same. This would do much more than raise the value of money. The country’s capital might look the same in money terms, but its real size would increase. It might still be stated as the same sum of money, but it would command more labor. It could support and employ more productive labor, increasing demand for that labor. Wages would naturally rise with demand, though they might appear to fall. Workers might receive less money, but that smaller sum could buy more goods than the larger sum bought before. The profits of stock would fall both in real terms and in appearance. As the country’s total capital grew, competition among the individual capitals making it up would grow too. Their owners would have to accept a smaller share of what the workers their capitals employed produced. Interest on money always follows the profits of stock. It could therefore fall substantially even while money gained substantial value—that is, even while a given sum could buy many more goods.
Some countries have laws forbidding interest. But money can be used to earn something everywhere, so its use ought to be paid for everywhere. Experience shows that this rule increases the harm of usury instead of preventing it. Borrowers must pay not just for using the money but also for the risk lenders take in accepting payment for its use. In effect, borrowers must insure lenders against the penalties for usury.
Where interest is allowed, the law usually sets the highest rate lenders can charge without a penalty, to prevent excessive interest. This ceiling should always be a little above the lowest market rate: the rate normally paid by borrowers who can offer unquestionable security. If the legal ceiling is set below that lowest market rate, it will have nearly the same effects as banning interest altogether. Lenders will not lend for less than the use of their money is worth. Borrowers must then pay them extra for the risk of accepting its full value. If the ceiling is set exactly at the lowest market rate, law-abiding lenders will refuse credit to anyone unable to provide the very best security. Those borrowers will have to turn to lenders charging excessive rates. In a country like Great Britain, where the government can borrow at three per cent. and private borrowers with good security pay four or four and a-half, the present legal ceiling of five per cent. is perhaps as suitable as any.
The legal ceiling should be somewhat above the lowest market rate, but not far above it. Suppose Great Britain set it as high as eight or ten per cent. Most money available for lending would go to spendthrifts and speculative promoters, the only people willing to pay such high interest. Careful borrowers, who will pay for money only part of what they expect to earn by using it, would not compete. Much of the country’s capital would be diverted from those most likely to use it profitably and well to those most likely to waste and destroy it. But when the legal ceiling is only slightly above the lowest market rate, lenders consistently prefer careful borrowers to spendthrifts and speculators. The lender earns nearly as much from the careful borrowers as he dares to charge the others, and his money is much safer with them. Much of the country’s capital thus reaches the people most likely to use it well.
No law can push the usual interest rate below the lowest ordinary market rate at the time it is passed. In 1766 the French king issued an edict meant to cut interest from five to four per cent. But lenders in France kept charging five per cent. by finding various ways around the law.
The usual market price of land everywhere depends on the usual market interest rate. Someone with capital who wants revenue without the trouble of using that capital himself considers whether to buy land or lend the money at interest. Land is more secure and comes with other advantages nearly everywhere. So he will usually accept less revenue from land than he could get by lending the money. Those advantages can make up for some difference in revenue, but only so much. If land rent fell too far below interest income, nobody would buy land, and its usual price would soon fall. Conversely, if land’s advantages more than made up for the difference, everybody would buy land, and its usual price would soon rise. When interest was ten per cent., land usually sold for ten or twelve years’ purchase—that is, ten or twelve years’ rent. As interest fell to six, five, and four per cent., land prices rose to twenty, five-and-twenty, and thirty years’ purchase. Market interest rates are higher in France than in England, and the usual price of land is lower. Land commonly sells for thirty years’ purchase in England and twenty in France.
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
On the Different Uses of Capital
All capital is meant to support productive labor. But equal amounts of capital can set very different amounts of labor to work, depending on how they are used. They can also add very different amounts of value to the country’s annual output from land and labor.
Capital can be used in four ways. First, it can obtain the raw products a society needs each year for its use and consumption. Second, it can manufacture and prepare those products for immediate use and consumption. Third, it can transport raw or manufactured products from places with a plentiful supply to places that need them. Fourth, it can divide portions of either kind of product into small quantities that meet buyers’ needs as they arise. The first use includes the capital of people improving or working land, mines, and fisheries. The second includes the capital of manufacturers. The third includes that of wholesale merchants, and the fourth that of retailers. It is hard to imagine any use of capital that does not belong to one of these four groups.
Each of the four uses of capital is necessary either for the other three to exist or grow, or for the general convenience of society.
Without capital used to supply raw products in sufficient quantities, neither manufacturing nor trade of any kind could exist.
Without capital used to prepare raw products that need substantial work before people can use them, those products would never be produced because nobody would want them in their raw state. Or, if nature produced them without human effort, they would have no value in exchange and would add nothing to society’s wealth.
Without capital used to carry raw or manufactured goods from where they are plentiful to where they are needed, producers could make no more of either kind than their neighbors could consume. A merchant’s capital exchanges the surplus output of one place for the surplus of another. It thus encourages work in both places and gives people in both more things to enjoy.
Without capital used to split raw or manufactured goods into the small quantities buyers need at a given time, everyone would have to buy more than they currently needed. If there were no butchers, for example, each person would have to buy a whole ox or sheep at once. That would be inconvenient for the rich and much more inconvenient for the poor. If a poor worker had to buy a month’s or six months’ provisions at once, he would have to move much of his stock from the tools and shop furnishings that serve as his capital and earn him revenue into supplies for his own immediate consumption, which earn nothing. Being able to buy food day by day, or even hour by hour, as needed is a great convenience for him. He can then use nearly all his stock as capital. That allows him to provide work worth more, and the extra profit he makes far outweighs the price added to his purchases by the retailer’s profit. Some political writers’ prejudice against shopkeepers and tradespeople has no foundation. There is no need to tax them or limit their numbers. However many there are, they cannot harm the public, though they may harm each other. For example, demand in a town and its surrounding area limits how many groceries can be sold there. Capital invested in grocery shops cannot exceed what is needed to buy that quantity. If two grocers divide this capital, competition will tend to make both sell more cheaply than one would. If twenty divide it, competition will be greater still, and they will be less likely to join together to raise prices. Competition may ruin some grocers, but that is their own concern and can safely be left to their judgment. It cannot harm consumers or producers. Instead, it tends to make retailers sell for less and pay producers more than if one or two people monopolized the whole trade. Some retailers might occasionally lure an easily persuaded customer into buying something he does not need. But this harm is too small to demand public attention, and limiting the number of retailers would not necessarily prevent it. To take the example most likely to raise suspicion, a large number of alehouses does not make ordinary people generally inclined to get drunk. Rather, an inclination caused by other things creates business for many alehouses.
People who use their capital in any of these four ways are themselves productive laborers. When properly directed, their work takes form in a saleable product. It generally adds to the product’s price at least the value of what they need to live and consume. Farmers, manufacturers, merchants, and retailers all receive their profits from the prices of goods: the first two produce them, and the last two buy and sell them. Yet equal amounts of capital invested in these four uses directly employ very different amounts of productive labor. They also increase the society’s annual output from land and labor by very different amounts.
A retailer’s capital pays back the merchant from whom he buys goods, including that merchant’s profit, and enables the merchant to continue trading. The retailer himself is the only productive laborer this capital employs directly. His profit is the whole amount his use of capital adds to society’s annual output from land and labor.
A wholesale merchant’s capital pays back the farmers and manufacturers whose raw and manufactured products he buys, including their profits. This lets them continue their trades. That is the main way he indirectly supports society’s productive labor and increases the value of its annual output. His capital also employs the sailors and carriers who transport his goods. It adds both their wages and his profit to those goods’ prices. These are all the productive workers his capital directly employs and all the value it directly adds to annual output. In both respects, it does considerably more than a retailer’s capital.
A manufacturer uses some of his capital as fixed capital to buy tools. This pays back, including profit, the capital of the craftsperson who sells him those tools. He uses some of his circulating capital to buy materials, paying back, including profits, the capital of the farmers and miners who supply them. But a large part of his capital is also paid out to his workers each year, or over an even shorter time. Their wages and the manufacturer’s profits on the total stock of wages, materials, and tools invested in the business add to the materials’ value. His capital therefore directly employs far more productive labor than an equal sum held by a wholesale merchant. It also adds far more value to society’s annual output from land and labor.
No equal amount of capital employs more productive labor than a farmer’s. Both his hired workers and his working animals are productive laborers. In agriculture, nature works alongside people. Nature’s work costs nothing but produces things with value, just as the work of the highest-paid workers does. The most important tasks in farming seem aimed less at increasing nature’s fertility, though they do that too, than at directing it toward the plants most useful to people. A field covered with briars and brambles may often produce as much plant matter as the best-tended vineyard or cornfield. Planting and cultivation often guide nature’s active fertility more than they increase it. After all the human work, nature still has a large share of the work to do. So farming workers and animals do more than manufacturing workers do: they reproduce value equal to what they consume, or to the capital that employs them, along with their employer’s profits. They regularly reproduce a much greater value too. Beyond replacing the farmer’s capital and all its profits, they regularly produce the landlord’s rent. That rent can be seen as the output of nature’s powers, whose use the landlord lends to the farmer. It is larger or smaller depending on how great those powers are thought to be—in other words, on the land’s natural or improved fertility. It is what nature produces after everything attributable to human work has been deducted or paid for. Rent is rarely less than a fourth of the whole output, and often more than a third. No equal quantity of productive labor in manufacturing can reproduce so much value. In manufacturing, nature does nothing and people do everything. The value reproduced must therefore match the strength of the workers producing it. Capital in agriculture employs more productive labor than an equal amount in manufacturing. And for each amount of productive labor it employs, it adds far more value to the country’s annual output from land and labor, and to its people’s real wealth and revenue. Agriculture is by far the most beneficial use of capital for society.
Capital used in a society’s agriculture and retail trade must always remain within that society. Its work is tied almost to a particular location: the farm or the retailer’s shop. With some exceptions, it must also generally belong to people who live there.
A wholesale merchant’s capital, by contrast, seems to have no permanent or necessary home. It can move from place to place, wherever it can buy cheaply or sell for a high price.
A manufacturer’s capital must of course be located where manufacturing takes place. But that location is not always fixed by necessity. It may be far both from where the materials originate and from where the finished goods are used. Lyons is far from both the places supplying its manufacturers’ materials and the places buying their products. Fashionable people in Sicily wear silk made elsewhere from materials produced in Sicily itself. Some Spanish wool is made into cloth in Great Britain, and some of that cloth is then sent back to Spain.
It makes very little difference whether a merchant who exports a society’s surplus output comes from that society or another country. If he is a foreigner, the society has just one fewer productive laborer than if he lived there. Its annual output is smaller by only that one man’s profits. The sailors or carriers he hires can come from his country, from theirs, or from a third country, just as they could if he were a native. A foreigner’s capital gives value to their surplus output just as a native’s does: it exchanges that output for something people at home want. It also repays the capital of the person who made that surplus and enables him to stay in business just as effectively. This is the chief way a wholesale merchant’s capital supports productive labor and increases the annual output 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 be located within the country. It necessarily employs more productive labor there and adds more value to the society’s annual output from land and labor. Still, it can greatly benefit a country even when located elsewhere. British manufacturers annually turn flax and hemp imported from the Baltic coasts into goods. Their capital surely benefits the countries that grow those materials. The flax and hemp form part of those countries’ surplus output. Without annual exchanges for things wanted there, they would have no value and would soon stop being produced. The merchants who export them pay back the growers’ capital and encourage continued production. The British manufacturers in turn pay back the merchants’ capital.
A country, like a person, may often lack enough capital to improve and farm all its land, prepare all its raw output for immediate use and consumption, and transport its surplus raw or manufactured products to distant markets where they can be exchanged for things wanted at home. People in many parts of Great Britain lack enough capital to improve and farm all their land. Much of the wool from the southern counties of Scotland is carried a long way over very bad roads to be manufactured in Yorkshire, because there is not enough capital to manufacture it locally. Many small manufacturing towns in Great Britain lack the capital to take their products to distant markets where buyers want and use them. Any local merchants in those towns are really only agents for richer merchants based in large trading cities.
If a country lacks enough capital for all three purposes, the greater the share it invests in agriculture, the more productive labor it will employ at home. It will also add more value to the society’s annual output from land and labor. Manufacturing capital ranks second in productive labor employed and value added to annual output. Capital invested in the export trade has the smallest effect of the three.
A country without enough capital for all three has not yet reached the wealth it seems naturally capable of reaching. But trying to do all three too soon, with too little capital, is certainly not the quickest way for a society to gain enough capital. Nor would it be the quickest way for an individual. The combined capital of a nation’s people has limits, just as one person’s does, and can accomplish only so much. People increase their combined capital in the same way a person increases his: by continually adding to it what they save from their revenue. It will therefore probably grow fastest when invested in a way that brings all the country’s inhabitants the most revenue, enabling them to save the most. But the inhabitants’ total revenue must reflect the value of their land and labor’s annual output.
The rapid rise of our American colonies toward wealth and greatness has chiefly come from their use of almost all their capital in agriculture. They have no manufacturing apart from the household production and simpler kinds that necessarily grow alongside agriculture, done by women and children in individual households. Merchants living in Great Britain supply most of the capital for America’s export and coastal trade. Merchants in the mother country even own many of the stores and warehouses selling goods at retail in certain provinces, especially Virginia and Maryland. This is one of the few examples of a society’s retail trade being financed by people who do not live there. Suppose Americans joined together or used some other form of force to stop imports of European manufactured goods. Their own manufacturers would gain a monopoly on comparable goods, drawing a substantial share of American capital into manufacturing. That would slow, not speed up, further growth in the value of their annual output. It would hinder, not advance, their country’s progress toward real wealth and greatness. The harm would be even greater if they tried by the same means to monopolize all their export trade as well.
Periods of human prosperity hardly ever seem to have lasted long enough for a large country to accumulate sufficient capital for all three purposes. Perhaps we could make exceptions if we believe the remarkable accounts of the wealth and cultivation of China, ancient Egypt, and ancient Indostan. Yet even these three, described as the richest countries the world has ever known, are chiefly celebrated for their superiority in farming and manufacturing. They do not appear to have excelled in foreign trade. The ancient Egyptians had a superstitious aversion to the sea. A similar superstition is common among Indians, and the Chinese have never excelled at foreign commerce. Foreigners seem always to have exported most of these countries’ surplus output, exchanging it for other things in demand there, often gold and silver.
The same capital, then, will employ more or less productive labor and add more or less value to a country’s annual output from land and labor according to the shares invested in agriculture, manufacturing, and wholesale trade. It also makes a great difference which kind of wholesale trade receives any portion of that capital.
All wholesale trade—that is, buying to resell wholesale—falls into three kinds: domestic trade, foreign trade supplying home consumption, and carrying trade. Domestic trade buys goods made within a country in one part of it and sells them in another. It includes both inland and coastal trade. Foreign trade supplying home consumption buys foreign goods for use at home. Carrying trade handles trade between foreign countries by transporting the surplus output of one to another.
Capital that buys a country’s products in one of its regions to sell them in another generally repays two separate amounts of capital with each transaction. Both were invested in that country’s agriculture or manufacturing, and repayment lets both continue operating. The merchant sends a certain value of goods from his home base and usually receives at least an equal value of other goods in return. When both sets of goods are produced at home, each transaction necessarily repays two separate capitals used to support productive labor and lets them continue doing so. Capital that sends Scottish manufactured goods to London and brings English corn and manufactured goods back to Edinburgh repays two British capitals with each transaction. Both were invested in Great Britain’s agriculture or manufacturing.
Capital that buys foreign goods for consumption at home also repays two separate capitals with each transaction if the purchase uses domestically produced goods. But only one of those capitals supports domestic industry. The capital that sends British goods to Portugal and brings Portuguese goods to Great Britain repays only one British capital in each transaction; the other belongs to Portugal. Even if this foreign trade brought returns as quickly as domestic trade, the capital used in it would give only half as much support to the country’s productive labor and industry.
Returns from foreign trade supplying home consumption are rarely as quick as returns from domestic trade. Domestic trade generally brings returns before the year is over, sometimes three or four times a year. Foreign trade supplying home consumption rarely brings returns before year’s end and sometimes takes two or three years. Capital invested in domestic trade may therefore complete twelve transactions—go out and come back twelve times—before capital invested in foreign trade completes one. If the two amounts of capital are equal, the first will support and encourage the country’s industry four-and-twenty times as much as the second.
Foreign goods consumed at home may sometimes be bought with other foreign goods rather than products of domestic industry. But those other foreign goods must themselves have been bought either directly with domestically produced goods or with something bought with such goods. Apart from war and conquest, foreign goods can only be obtained in exchange for something produced at home, whether directly or after two or more exchanges. Capital used in this indirect kind of foreign trade for home consumption thus has the same effects in every respect as capital used in the most direct kind, except that the final returns are likely to take longer. They must wait on the returns from two or three different foreign trades. Suppose a merchant buys hemp and flax from Riga with Virginia tobacco, which he bought with British manufactured goods. He must wait for the returns from two separate foreign trades before he can use the same capital to buy a similar amount of British manufactured goods again. If he bought the Virginia tobacco with Jamaican sugar and rum, and bought those with British manufactured goods, he must wait for returns from three trades. Now suppose two or three merchants carry out those trades separately: the second buys the first merchant’s imports, and the third buys the second’s, then exports them again. Each merchant will recover his own capital more quickly. But the final return of all the capital invested in the trade will take just as long. Whether one merchant or three owns all the capital in such an indirect trade makes no difference to the country, though it matters to the individual merchants. In either case, exchanging a given value of British manufactured goods for a given quantity of flax and hemp requires three times as much capital as a direct exchange would. So capital invested in such indirect foreign trade for home consumption will generally give less support and encouragement to the country’s productive labor than an equal amount invested 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
The type of foreign goods used to buy imports for consumption at home makes no essential difference to this trade or to its support for productive labor in the country conducting it. Suppose imports are bought with gold from Brazil or silver from Peru. Like Virginia tobacco, that gold and silver must have been bought with goods made by the country’s workers, or with other goods bought with what those workers made. As far as the country’s productive labor is concerned, foreign trade for home consumption using gold and silver has all the benefits and drawbacks of any equally indirect foreign trade of that kind. It repays the capital directly supporting productive labor just as quickly or slowly. It even seems to have an advantage over other equally indirect foreign trades. Because gold and silver have great value for their small size, they cost less to transport than almost any other foreign goods of equal value. Shipping costs much less, insurance costs no more, and few other goods are less likely to be damaged in transport. Using gold and silver may therefore often allow a country to buy the same amount of foreign goods with fewer of its domestically produced goods than using other foreign goods would. It can often meet its needs more fully and at lower cost this way. I will examine at length later whether continually exporting these metals in such trade might impoverish the country in some other way.
Any part of a country’s capital invested in carrying trade is taken entirely away from supporting that country’s productive labor and instead supports labor in foreign countries. Each transaction may repay two separate capitals, but neither belongs to that country. Consider a Dutch merchant whose capital carries corn from Poland to Portugal and brings fruit and wine from Portugal back to Poland. Each transaction repays two capitals, one that supported productive labor in Poland and the other in Portugal. Neither supported it in Holland. Only the profits regularly return to Holland. They are the entire addition this trade necessarily makes to Holland’s annual output from land and labor. When a country’s merchants use its own ships and sailors in carrying trade, however, the part of their capital that pays shipping charges goes to productive workers in that country and employs some of them. Nearly every nation with a substantial carrying trade has conducted it this way. Indeed, the trade probably got its name because people in such countries carried goods for other countries. But using their own ships is not an essential feature of the trade. A Dutch merchant can, for example, use his capital to trade between Poland and Portugal, carrying part of one country’s surplus to the other in British ships rather than Dutch ones. We can assume this happens sometimes. The use of local ships and sailors is why carrying trade has been seen as especially beneficial to Great Britain, whose defense and security depend on its number of sailors and ships. But the same capital can employ just as many sailors and ships in foreign trade supplying home consumption, or even in domestic coastal trade, as it can in carrying trade. The number a given capital can employ does not depend on the type of trade. It depends partly on the goods’ bulk relative to their value, and partly on the distance between the ports, but chiefly on the goods’ bulk. For example, carrying coal from Newcastle to London employs more ships than all of England’s carrying trade, though the ports are not far apart. Giving exceptional incentives to steer more of a country’s capital into carrying trade than would naturally enter it will therefore not necessarily increase its shipping.
Capital in a country’s domestic trade will thus generally support and encourage more productive labor there, and add more to the value of its annual output, than an equal amount in foreign trade supplying home consumption. Capital in that foreign trade in turn does more in both respects than an equal amount in carrying trade. A country’s wealth, and the power that depends on wealth, must reflect the value of its annual output. That output is the fund from which all taxes must ultimately be paid. Since the central aim of every country’s political economy is to increase its wealth and power, it should not favor foreign trade supplying home consumption over domestic trade, or carrying trade over either of the other two. It should neither force nor entice more of the country’s capital into either of those two foreign trades than would naturally go there on its own.
Still, every one of these kinds of trade is beneficial, necessary, and unavoidable when it arises naturally, without pressure or force.
When any branch of industry produces more than people at home want, its surplus must be exported and exchanged for something they do want. Otherwise some of the country’s productive labor must stop, and its annual output will lose value. Great Britain’s land and labor generally produce more corn, woolens, and hardware than its home market wants. The surplus must be exported in exchange for things wanted at home. Only through those exports can the surplus gain enough value to cover the labor and expense of producing it. Coastal locations and the banks of navigable rivers are good places for industry only because they make it easier to export surplus goods and exchange them for others in greater demand there.
When the foreign goods bought with surplus domestic output exceed demand at home, the extra goods must be exported again and exchanged for something more in demand at home. About 96,000 hogsheads of tobacco are bought annually in Virginia and Maryland with some of the surplus output of British industry. But Great Britain perhaps wants no more than 14,000. If the remaining 82,000 could not be exported in exchange for something more wanted at home, imports of that tobacco would have to stop at once. So would the productive labor of all the people in Great Britain who make the goods used each year to buy those 82,000 hogsheads. Those goods form part of the output of Great Britain’s land and labor. They have no market at home; without their market abroad, they would no longer be produced. Thus even the most indirect foreign trade supplying home consumption can sometimes be as necessary to support a country’s productive labor and the value of its annual output as the most direct.
When a country’s capital stock grows so large that it cannot all be used to supply domestic consumption and support domestic productive labor, the surplus naturally flows into carrying trade and performs the same services for other countries. Carrying trade is a natural result and sign of great national wealth, but it does not appear to be a natural cause of it. Statesmen who have wanted to give it special support seem to have confused the result and sign with the cause. In proportion to its land area and population, Holland is by far Europe’s richest country. It also has the greatest share of Europe’s carrying trade. England is perhaps Europe’s second-richest country and is also thought to have a substantial share. But much of what is called England’s carrying trade may actually be indirect foreign trade supplying home consumption. That largely describes the trade carrying goods from the East and West Indies and America to various European markets. Those goods are generally bought directly with British products or with goods bought using British products. The goods eventually received in return are generally used or consumed in Great Britain. British ships trading between Mediterranean ports, and similar trade by British merchants between ports in India, are perhaps the main branches of Great Britain’s true carrying trade.
The size of domestic trade, and of the capital it can use, is necessarily limited by the value of the surplus output of distant places within the country that need to exchange their products with one another. Foreign trade supplying home consumption is limited by the value of the whole country’s surplus output and what can be bought with it. Carrying trade is limited by the value of the surplus output of all the world’s countries. Its potential size is therefore almost limitless compared with the other two. It can absorb the largest amounts of capital.
The owner of capital chooses among agriculture, manufacturing, and particular types of wholesale or retail trade solely on the basis of his own profit. He never thinks about how much productive labor each use might employ or how much value it might add to society’s annual output from land and labor. So in countries where agriculture is the most profitable work, and farming and land improvement offer the clearest paths to great wealth, individuals’ capital will naturally go into the use most beneficial to society as a whole. But profits from agriculture do not seem higher than those from other work anywhere in Europe. In recent years, speculative promoters across Europe have entertained the public with grand accounts of profits to be made by farming and improving land. We do not need to examine their calculations in detail to see that their conclusions must be wrong. Every day we see enormous fortunes made from trade and manufacturing within a single lifetime, often starting with very little capital and sometimes with none. Perhaps not one such fortune has been made from agriculture in Europe during the present century, within the same time and with the same starting capital. Yet much good land remains untilled throughout Europe’s large countries, and most land that is farmed has not been improved nearly as much as it could be. Agriculture could therefore absorb far more capital almost everywhere than it has ever received. In the following two books I will explain fully which features of European policy have so favored trades carried on in towns over farming in the countryside. These policies often make it more profitable for individuals to put their capital into carrying trades as distant as Asia and America than to improve and farm 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
How Wealth Grows Differently in Different Nations
How Wealth Naturally Grows
In every civilized society, the main trade is between people in towns and people in the countryside. They exchange raw produce for manufactured goods, either directly or using money or some form of paper that stands for money. The countryside supplies towns with food and materials for making things. Towns repay it with some of the goods they make. Towns cannot produce food or raw materials themselves, so they can rightly be said to get all their wealth and food from the countryside. But that does not mean the town gains at the countryside's expense. Both benefit. Here, as elsewhere, the division of labor benefits everyone doing the different jobs into which work is divided. Country people can buy more manufactured goods from towns with the produce of a much smaller amount of their own work than they could make by doing that work themselves. Towns provide a market for what the countryside produces beyond what its farmers need to live on. Country people exchange that surplus there for things they want. The more people in a town, and the higher their revenue, the bigger its market for country people. The bigger the market, the more people benefit. Grain grown a mile from town sells there at the same price as grain brought from twenty miles away. But the price of the distant grain must generally cover not only growing and transporting it, but also the farmer's ordinary agricultural profit. So landowners and farmers near town receive, on top of ordinary agricultural profits, the entire transport cost of similar produce brought from farther away as part of the price they get. They also save that entire transport cost on the things they buy. Compare the cultivation of land near a large town with that of land farther away. You will see how much the town's trade helps the countryside. People have advanced many absurd theories about the balance of trade. But none has claimed that the countryside loses by trading with a town, or that a town loses by trading with the countryside that feeds it.
Food and other necessities naturally come before comforts and luxuries. So work that supplies necessities must come before work that supplies comforts and luxuries. Cultivating and improving the countryside, which supplies food, must therefore come before the growth of towns, which supply only comforts and luxuries. Only what the countryside produces beyond what farmers need to live on can feed towns. Towns can therefore grow only as that surplus grows. A town may, of course, get its food not from the nearby countryside, or even its own territory, but from very distant countries. This does not break the general rule, but it has caused major differences in the way wealth has grown across times and nations.
Necessity generally imposes this order of growth, though not in every country. In every country, people's natural preferences also favor it. If human institutions had never interfered with those preferences, towns could not have grown beyond what farming and improving their own territory could support, at least until that whole territory had been fully cultivated and improved. If profits are equal or nearly equal, most people prefer to put their capital into improving and farming land rather than manufacturing or foreign trade. Someone who invests in land can keep a closer eye on and control over it. Their fortune is also much less exposed to accidents than a trader's. The trader often has to entrust it not only to wind and waves, but to the still less predictable folly and injustice of people, by extending large amounts of credit in distant countries to people whose circumstances and character the trader can seldom know well. By contrast, a landowner's capital invested in improving land seems as safe as anything human affairs can make it. People also find the countryside beautiful and country life enjoyable. It promises peace of mind and, where unjust laws do not interfere, real independence. These things appeal to everyone to some degree. Since working the land was humanity's original occupation, people seem to retain a preference for that earliest kind of work at every stage of life.
Farming land is hard to carry on without repeated interruptions unless artisans help. Farmers often need blacksmiths, carpenters, makers of wheels and plows, masons, bricklayers, tanners, shoemakers, and tailors. These artisans also sometimes need one another's help. Unlike farmers, they do not have to live on one particular piece of land. So they tend to settle near one another and form a small town or village. Butchers, brewers, and bakers soon join them, along with many other artisans and retailers who supply what they sometimes need. The town grows further. Town and country people serve one another. The town is a permanent market where country people exchange raw produce for manufactured goods. This trade gives town people both the materials they work with and the food they live on. The amount of finished work they sell to country people determines how much material and food they buy. Their employment and food supply can therefore grow only in proportion to the countryside's demand for finished work. That demand can grow only as farming spreads and improves. So if human institutions had never disrupted the natural course of events, towns in every society would have grown richer and larger as a result of, and in proportion to, the farming and improvement of their surrounding territory.
In our North American colonies, uncultivated land is still available cheaply. No town there has yet established a manufacturing business producing goods for distant markets. When an artisan has acquired more stock than needed to run a business serving the nearby countryside, they do not use it to start manufacturing for distant buyers. Instead they buy and improve uncultivated land. The artisan becomes a planter. Neither the high wages nor the easy living offered to artisans there can persuade that person to work for others instead of themselves. An artisan depends on customers for a living and serves them. A planter farming their own land and getting necessities through their family's work is truly their own master, independent of everyone else.
By contrast, in countries with no uncultivated land, or none available cheaply, any artisan with more stock than can be used for occasional local jobs tries to make goods for distant buyers. The blacksmith sets up some kind of ironworks, the weaver some kind of linen or wool manufacturing business. Over time these different kinds of manufacturing are gradually divided into specialized jobs. That improves and refines them in many ways that are easy to imagine and need no further explanation.
When deciding where to invest capital, people naturally prefer manufacturing to foreign trade if profits are equal or nearly equal, for the same reason they prefer farming to manufacturing. The capital of a landowner or farmer is more secure than a manufacturer's. In turn, a manufacturer can keep capital in sight and under control more easily than a foreign merchant, so it is more secure. Of course, in every society at every time, any raw or manufactured produce for which there is no demand at home must be sent abroad and exchanged for something people at home do want. But it matters very little whether the capital used to export this surplus belongs to someone at home or abroad. If a society does not have enough capital both to farm all its land and to manufacture all its raw produce as fully as possible, there is a real advantage in having foreign capital export its raw produce. The society can then use all its own stock for more useful purposes. Ancient Egypt, China, and Indostan show clearly that a nation can become very wealthy even when foreigners conduct most of its export trade. Our North American and West Indian colonies would have grown much more slowly if they had relied solely on their own capital to export their surplus produce.
In the natural course of events, then, most capital in a growing society goes first to farming, then to manufacturing, and finally to foreign trade. This sequence is so natural that I believe every society with any territory has followed it to some extent. Some land must have been farmed before sizable towns could develop. Those towns must have carried on some basic manufacturing before they could properly turn to foreign trade.
Yet in all the modern states of Europe, this natural order has in many ways been completely reversed. Foreign trade brought some cities their finer manufactured goods, suited to sale far away. Then manufacturing and foreign trade together brought about the main improvements in farming. The practices and customs established by their original form of government remained even after that government changed greatly. They necessarily forced these states 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
Why Farming Was Discouraged in Europe in Earlier Times, After the Fall of the Roman Empire
When German and Scythian peoples overran the Roman empire's western provinces, the disorder that followed such a great upheaval lasted several centuries. The invaders robbed and attacked the original inhabitants, disrupting trade between towns and the countryside. Towns emptied and land went unfarmed. Western Europe had enjoyed considerable wealth under the Roman empire, but sank into deep poverty and what was then called barbarism. Amid this disorder, the chiefs and leading men of the invading peoples took possession, sometimes by force, of most of the land. Much of it was uncultivated, but every piece, cultivated or not, had an owner. All the land was taken up, most of it by a few large landowners.
This first concentration of uncultivated land in a few hands was a serious harm, but it could have been temporary. Land could soon have been divided again into small plots through inheritance or sale. The law of primogeniture stopped inheritance from dividing it. Entails, which legally tied estates to a line of heirs, stopped owners from dividing and transferring it.
When land is seen, like movable property, only as a way to live and enjoy life, the natural rule of inheritance divides it among all a family's children. A father can be expected to care equally about each child's livelihood and enjoyment. That was how inheritance worked among the Romans: they made no more distinction between older and younger children, or between sons and daughters, when dividing land than we do when dividing movable property. But once land was seen as a means of power and protection, not merely livelihood, people thought it better to pass it intact to one person. In those unsettled times, every large landowner was something like a small prince. His tenants were his subjects. He acted as their judge and, to some extent, their lawmaker in peacetime and commander in war. He made war as he saw fit, often against his neighbors and sometimes against his sovereign. The safety of an estate, and the protection its owner could give the people living on it, depended on its size. Dividing it would ruin it and leave every part open to attack and takeover by neighbors. For this reason, the law of primogeniture eventually came to govern the inheritance of landed estates. This did not happen immediately. It was the same reason primogeniture generally came to govern monarchies, though not always when they were first founded. To keep a monarchy's power, and therefore its security, from being weakened by division, it must pass intact to one child. A general rule must decide which child gets such an important preference. The rule cannot rely on disputed judgments of personal merit, but must use a clear difference no one can contest. Among children in one family, only sex and age offer such unquestionable differences. Sons are universally preferred to daughters; all else being equal, the older child takes precedence over the younger. That is where the right of primogeniture and what is called lineal succession came from.
Laws often stay in force long after the circumstances that originally justified them have vanished. In Europe today, someone who owns a single acre has as secure a claim to it as someone who owns 100,000. Yet primogeniture is still respected. No institution better supports pride in family rank, so it will probably last for many more centuries. In every other respect, no rule could run more directly against the real interest of a large family: it makes all but one child poor so that one may be rich.
Entails followed naturally from primogeniture. They were introduced to preserve the line of inheritance that primogeniture had suggested. They kept any part of the original estate from leaving that line through a gift, a will, or another transfer, whether through an owner's foolishness or bad luck. The Romans had no entails at all. Their substitutions and fidei commisses were nothing like entails, though some French lawyers have chosen to describe this modern institution using the terms and appearance of those ancient practices.
When big estates were like small principalities, entails may have been reasonable. Like the so-called fundamental laws of some monarchies, they might often have kept one person's whim or wastefulness from putting thousands of people in danger. But today in Europe the law protects small estates as well as large ones, making entails completely absurd. They rest on the most absurd assumption of all: that successive generations do not have an equal right to the earth and all it contains, and that the property of living people should be controlled by the wishes of people who died perhaps five hundred years ago. Yet entails are still respected across most of Europe, particularly where noble birth is required to hold civil or military honors. People think entails are needed to preserve the nobility's exclusive claim to high office and honors. Since nobles have already taken one unfair advantage over their fellow citizens, they are thought entitled to another so that poverty will not make the first look ridiculous. English common law, it is true, is said to oppose permanent restrictions on property. They are more limited in England than in any other European monarchy, though England still has some. In Scotland, more than one fifth, perhaps more than one third of all land is now thought to be under strict entail.
In this way particular families took over large areas of uncultivated land and made it almost impossible for the land ever to be divided again. But a large landowner is rarely someone who improves land extensively. In the chaotic times that produced these harsh institutions, a great landowner was busy protecting his territory or expanding his authority over his neighbors' land. He had no time to cultivate or improve his own. When law and order finally gave him the time, he often lacked the desire and almost always lacked the necessary skill. If his household and personal expenses equaled or exceeded his revenue, as often happened, he had no stock to invest in improvements. If he managed his money carefully, he usually found it more profitable to buy more land with his annual savings than to improve the land he already had. Improving land profitably, like any business undertaking, requires close attention to small savings and small gains. Even a naturally thrifty person born into a great fortune is rarely good at that. Someone in that position naturally pays more attention to decoration, which pleases him, than to profit, which he hardly needs. Since childhood he has cared about the elegance of his clothes, carriage, house, and furniture. That habit of mind carries over into his plans to improve his land. Perhaps he beautifies four or five hundred acres around his house at ten times what the land is worth after the work is done. Then he finds that improving his whole estate that way—the only way he likes—would bankrupt him before a tenth was finished. In both parts of the united kingdom, some great estates have remained continuously in the same families since the time of feudal disorder. Compare their present condition with nearby small owners' land. You will need no other proof of how poorly such vast ownership serves improvement.
If little improvement could be expected from large landowners, even less could be expected from the people working their land. In Europe in earlier times, land was worked by people who could be turned out at their owner's will. All or nearly all were slaves, though their condition was less harsh than that of slaves in ancient Greece and Rome, or even in our West Indian colonies. They were regarded as attached more directly to the land than to its owner. They could be sold with the land, but not separately. They could marry with their master's permission. He could not then break up the marriage by selling husband and wife to different people. He faced a penalty if he injured or killed one of them, though it was usually small. But they could not own property. Everything they acquired belonged to their master, who could take it whenever he wished. Any farming or improvement done with such slaves was really done by the master, at his expense and for his benefit. The seed, livestock, and farming tools were all his. The slaves could gain nothing beyond their daily keep. In effect, the landowner worked his own land using his own bonded workers. This kind of slavery still exists in Russia, Poland, Hungary, Bohemia, Moravia, and other parts of Germany. Only in Europe's western and southwestern provinces has it gradually disappeared completely.
But if large landowners rarely improve much, they are least likely to do so when they use enslaved workers. Experience across ages and nations shows, I believe, that work done by slaves ends up costing the most, even though it seems to cost only their keep. Someone unable to acquire property has no reason to do more than eat as much and work as little as possible. Any work beyond what earns their own keep can be forced from them only by violence, not by an interest of their own. Pliny and Columella both noted how grain farming declined in ancient Italy, and how little profit owners made from it, when slaves took charge of it. Things had not been much better in ancient Greece in Aristotle's time. Discussing the ideal republic described in Plato's laws, Aristotle says that feeding 5000 men who did no work—the number of warriors thought necessary for defense—along with their wives and servants would need a territory of limitless size and fertility, like the plains of Babylon.
Human pride makes people enjoy ruling over others. Nothing stings them more than having to lower themselves to persuade those beneath them. So wherever the law permits it and the work can bear the cost, people generally prefer enslaved workers to free workers. Sugar and tobacco plantations can bear the cost of slave labor. Grain farming apparently cannot do so now. In the English colonies whose main crop is grain, free people do most of the work. The Quakers in Pennsylvania recently decided to free all their negro slaves. This suggests that they could not have owned very many: if those slaves had made up a substantial share of their property, they would never have agreed to do it. By contrast, enslaved people do all the work in our sugar colonies and a very large share in our tobacco colonies. Sugar plantations in any of our West Indian colonies are generally far more profitable than any other kind of farming known in Europe or America. Tobacco plantations bring less profit than sugar, but more than grain, as already noted. Both can bear the cost of slave labor, but sugar can bear it even more easily than tobacco. Accordingly, our sugar colonies have far more negroes relative to whites than our tobacco colonies do.
Over time, the enslaved farmers of ancient times were replaced by a kind of farmer now known in France as a metayer. In Latin they are called Coloni Partiarii. They disappeared from England so long ago that I know no current English name for them. The landowner provided the seed, livestock, and farming tools—in short, all the stock needed to farm the land. The owner and farmer divided the produce equally, after setting aside what was needed to maintain the stock. That stock went back to the owner when the farmer left the farm or was turned out.
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 worked by these tenants is really farmed at the owner's expense, just as land worked by slaves is. But there is one crucial difference. These tenants are free people who can own property. They get a fixed share of what the land produces. So it is plainly in their interest to make the total harvest as large as possible, to make their share larger too. A slave, on the other hand, can acquire nothing beyond a living and makes life easier by getting as little extra produce from the land as possible. This advantage of free tenants was probably one reason bonded tenure gradually disappeared from most of Europe. Another was that rulers, always wary of the great lords, gradually encouraged the lords' bonded tenants to encroach on their authority. These encroachments seem at least to have made this form of servitude too difficult to maintain. But when and how such a major change took place is one of the least clear matters in modern history. The church of Rome claims much credit for it. It is true that Alexander III. issued a bull calling for the general freeing of slaves as early as the twelfth century. But it seems to have been more an appeal to religious duty than a law demanding strict obedience from believers. Slavery remained almost universal for several more centuries. It was gradually abolished through the combined interests already mentioned: those of the landowner on one side and the ruler on the other. A bonded tenant who gained freedom but remained on the land, with no stock of his own, could farm it only with supplies from the landowner. He must therefore have become what the French call a metayer.
But even these farmers would never have had a reason to invest any of the little stock saved from their own share of the harvest in further improvements. The owner would get one half of whatever those improvements produced without investing anything. A tithe, taking only a tenth of the produce, is known to be a serious obstacle to improvement. A charge of one half must have stopped it effectively. A metayer had reason to get as much as possible from the land with the stock the owner supplied, but none to add any of his own. In France, five parts out of six of the whole kingdom are said still to be farmed by such tenants. Landowners there complain that their metayers use the owners' animals to transport goods instead of farming whenever they can. They keep all the profit from transporting goods, but must share the profit from farming with their landlords. This kind of tenant still exists in parts of Scotland under the name steel-bow tenant. The early English tenants described by Chief-Baron Gilbert and Dr Blackstone as more like their landlords' managers than actual farmers were probably of the same kind.
Very slowly, these tenants were replaced by farmers in the proper sense. These farmers used their own stock to farm and paid the landowner a fixed rent. If they held a lease for a set number of years, they could sometimes profit by investing part of their capital in further improvements. They might recover their investment with a large profit before the lease ran out. Yet their claim to the land remained very insecure for a long time, and still is in many parts of Europe. A new buyer could legally force them off the land before their leases ended, even in England, by means of the fictional legal procedure called a common recovery. If their landlord forced them out unlawfully, the legal action available to them gave very limited relief. It did not always restore their possession of the land, but awarded them damages that never covered their actual loss. Even in England, where tenant farmers have perhaps always received more respect than anywhere else in Europe, the action of ejectment was not introduced until about the 14th of Henry VII. It gave tenants possession back, not just damages, and did not necessarily leave their claim to the uncertain verdict of a single assize court. It worked so well that today, when a landlord needs to sue for possession, he seldom uses the landlord's own remedies, the writ of right or writ of entry. Instead he uses a writ of ejectment in his tenant's name. So in England a tenant's possession is as secure as an owner's. Moreover, a life lease worth forty shillings a-year is a freehold in England, entitling the tenant to vote for a member of parliament. Many tenant farmers hold such freeholds. Their landlords therefore respect this whole class because it has political influence. Nowhere in Europe except England, I believe, is there an example of a tenant building on land without a lease and trusting the landlord's honor not to take advantage of such a major improvement. Laws and customs that favor tenant farmers in these ways may have done more for England's present greatness than all its much-praised trade regulations put together.
As far as I know, only Great Britain has a law protecting the longest leases against every kind of successor to the landlord. A law of James II introduced it in Scotland as early as 1449. Entails have greatly reduced its benefit, however. Heirs holding entailed estates are generally barred from granting long leases, and often from granting leases longer than one year. A recent act of parliament has loosened these restrictions a little, but they are still far too tight. Also, no leasehold in Scotland gives its holder a vote for a member of parliament. Scottish tenant farmers therefore command less respect from their landlords on this account than English ones do.
Elsewhere in Europe, even after people saw the value of protecting tenants against both heirs and buyers, that protection lasted only a short time. In France, for example, it lasted nine years from the start of the lease. It has recently been extended there to twentyseven, still too short a time to encourage tenants to make the most important improvements. Landowners used to make the laws in every part of Europe. Laws about land were therefore designed around what they thought would serve owners' interests. They imagined that owners should not be prevented by leases granted by predecessors from enjoying their land's full value for many years. Greed and injustice do not look far ahead. They failed to see how much this rule would hold back improvements and ultimately hurt landowners' real interests.
In addition to paying rent, farmers were formerly thought obliged to perform many services for their landlords. These were seldom specified in the lease or defined by any precise rule. Instead they depended on the customs of the manor or barony. Because these services were almost completely at the landlord's discretion, they caused tenants much trouble. Within a few years of Scotland's abolition of every service not clearly required by a lease, conditions for its tenant farmers improved greatly.
The public services demanded from tenant farmers were just as arbitrary as those demanded privately. Building and maintaining highways was one duty. I believe it still exists everywhere, though it places a heavier burden on some countries than on others. It was not the only one. When the king's troops, household, or officers of any kind traveled through a district, tenant farmers had to supply horses, vehicles, and food at a price set by the official in charge of supplies. Great Britain is, I believe, the only European monarchy to have entirely abolished this oppressive system of compulsory supplies. It still exists in France and Germany.
The public taxes on these farmers were as unpredictable and oppressive as these duties. The old lords were extremely unwilling to give their sovereigns money themselves, but readily let them impose a charge known as tallage on their tenants. They did not understand how much this would eventually reduce their own revenue. The taille, which still exists in France, is an example of those old tallages. It is a tax on what the farmer is assumed to earn, estimated from the stock on the farm. Farmers therefore benefit from appearing to have as little stock as possible, and so from using as little as possible to farm their land and nothing to improve it. If a French farmer manages to accumulate stock, the taille almost prevents him from ever investing it in the land. This tax also supposedly dishonors and lowers anyone who pays it to a status beneath not only a gentleman but a burgher. Anyone renting someone else's land has to pay it. No gentleman, or even burgher, with stock will accept that loss of status. So the tax not only prevents stock accumulated on the land from improving it, but also drives away stock from elsewhere. The tenths and fifteenths common in England in earlier times seem, where they affected the land, to have been taxes of the same kind as the taille.
With all these obstacles, little improvement could be expected from people who rented land. Even if the law gives them every possible freedom and security, farmers always face a serious disadvantage in improving land. Compared with an owner, a farmer is like a merchant trading with borrowed money compared with one trading with his own. Both can increase their stock. But if they manage it equally well, the borrower will always build stock more slowly, because loan interest takes a large share of the profit. In the same way, if both manage equally well, a tenant farmer's land will improve more slowly than an owner's, because rent takes a large share of the produce. The farmer could have used that share to improve the land further if he owned it. Farmers also naturally hold a lower social position than owners. Across most of Europe, tenant farmers are seen as lower in rank even than the more prosperous tradespeople and mechanics, and everywhere in Europe as lower than major merchants and manufacturing owners. Someone with substantial stock is therefore unlikely to leave a higher-ranking occupation for a lower-ranking one. Even in Europe today, little stock from other professions is likely to be invested in improving land through tenant farming. Perhaps more is invested this way in Great Britain than elsewhere. But even there, large sums invested in farming in some places have usually been earned from farming itself, perhaps the occupation in which stock normally accumulates most slowly. After small landowners, however, wealthy farmers with large operations do more than anyone else to improve land in every country. England may have more of them than any other European monarchy. In the republics of Holland and Berne in Switzerland, farmers are said to be as good as those in England.
Beyond all these obstacles, the old European policy held back the improvement and farming of land whether it was worked by owners or tenants. First, there was the general ban on exporting grain without a special license, apparently a very common rule. Second, there were restrictions on domestic trade in grain and almost every other kind of farm produce. These included absurd laws against people who bought up goods, resold them at markets, or bought them before they reached market, as well as special privileges for fairs and markets. I have already described how the ban on exporting grain, combined with some encouragement to import foreign grain, obstructed farming in ancient Italy. Italy was naturally Europe's most fertile country and, at the time, the center of the world's greatest empire. It may be hard even to imagine how much domestic trade restrictions on grain, added to a general export ban, discouraged farming in countries with poorer soil and less favorable circumstances.
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
HOW CITIES AND TOWNS GREW AFTER THE FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
After the fall of the Roman empire, people in cities and towns had no more advantages than people in the countryside. In fact, they were very different from the first inhabitants of the ancient republics of Greece and Italy. Those early inhabitants were mainly landowners. The public land had originally been divided among them, and they found it useful to build their homes close together and surround them with a wall for shared defense. After the fall of the Roman empire, by contrast, landowners generally seem to have lived in fortified castles on their own estates, among their tenants and dependents. Towns were mainly inhabited by traders and craftspeople, who seem to have been enslaved or nearly so. The privileges that old charters granted to residents of some of Europe's leading towns make their previous condition clear. They were given the right to arrange their daughters' marriages without their lord's consent, to leave their property to their own children rather than to the lord, and to dispose of their possessions by will. Before these grants, they must have been in the same state of villeinage, or very nearly so, as the people working the land in the countryside.
They seem to have been very poor people of low standing, who traveled with their goods from place to place and fair to fair, much like today's hawkers and peddlers. Across Europe at that time, as in several Tartar governments in Asia today, travelers paid taxes on themselves and their goods when they passed through certain manors, crossed certain bridges, moved goods around a fair, or set up a booth or stall to sell them. In England these taxes were called passage, pontage, lastage, and stallage. Sometimes the king, and sometimes a powerful lord who apparently had the authority, gave particular traders a general exemption from these taxes. This especially applied to traders living on the lord's own land. Though still enslaved or nearly so in other respects, they were called free traders because of this exemption. In return, they generally paid their protector a kind of annual tax per person. Protection was seldom given for nothing in those days. This tax may have compensated their patrons for what they lost by exempting the traders from other taxes. At first, the per-person taxes and exemptions seem to have applied only to named individuals, for their lifetimes or as long as their protectors pleased. The very incomplete published accounts of several English towns from Doomsday-book often mention either the tax that individual burghers each paid to the king or another powerful lord for this protection, or only the combined amount of all these taxes. [see Brady’s Historical Treatise of Cities and Boroughs, p. 3. etc.]
However unfree the townspeople were at first, they clearly gained freedom and independence much sooner than people who worked the land in the countryside. The king commonly leased out the revenue from per-person taxes in a particular town for a fixed rent and a set number of years. Sometimes the lease went to the county sheriff and sometimes to other people. The burghers themselves often built up enough credit to be allowed to lease the revenue from their own town. Each of them, and all of them together, became responsible for paying the full rent. [See Madox, Firma Burgi, p. 18; also History of the Exchequer, chap. 10, sect. v, p. 223, first edition.] This kind of lease fitted the usual financial practice of, I believe, the rulers of every European country. They often leased whole manors to all the tenants living on them, making each tenant and all of them together responsible for the entire rent. In return, the tenants could collect it in their own way and pay it into the king's treasury through their own bailiff. This freed them entirely from the abusive behavior of the king's officers, something considered extremely important in those days.
The town's lease was probably first given to the burghers, as it had been to other lessees, for only a set number of years. Over time, though, it seems to have become standard to give it to them in fee—that is, permanently—at a fixed rent that could never be raised. As the payment became permanent, the exemptions given in return naturally became permanent too. Those exemptions were therefore no longer personal privileges belonging to particular individuals as individuals. They belonged to people as burghers of a particular town. For that reason it was called a free burgh, just as they had been called free burghers or free traders.
With this grant, the town's burghers generally also received the important privileges mentioned earlier: they could arrange their own daughters' marriages, their children could inherit from them, and they could leave their possessions by will. I do not know whether individual burghers had already commonly received these privileges along with freedom to trade. I think it likely, though I have no direct evidence. Whatever happened earlier, the main features of villeinage and slavery had now been removed. At least by this point, the burghers were genuinely free in the modern sense of the word.
That was not all. They were generally made into a community or corporation at the same time. They could have their own magistrates and town council, make their own local laws, build walls for defense, and put all residents under a kind of military discipline by requiring them to keep watch and guard duty. In the old sense, this meant guarding and defending the walls against attacks and surprise assaults by day and night. In England, they were usually excused from appearing before the hundred and county courts. Their own magistrates decided all disputes arising among them, except cases belonging to the crown. In other countries, they were often given much wider powers of judgment. [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 collect their own revenue may have needed some legal power to force their citizens to pay. In those lawless times, seeking this kind of justice from another court might have been extremely inconvenient. But something else seems surprising. Why did Europe's rulers trade a source of revenue for a fixed rent that could never be raised? Of all their sources of revenue, this one was perhaps the most likely to grow naturally, without any spending or effort on their part. And why did they voluntarily create what were almost independent republics in the middle of their own territories?
To understand this, remember that in those days perhaps no European ruler could protect weaker subjects across his whole territory from oppression by powerful lords. Anyone whom the law could not protect, and who could not defend himself, had two choices. He could seek a powerful lord's protection by becoming his slave or vassal, or join with others in an alliance for mutual defense. Alone, the people of cities and burghs could not defend themselves. Together with their neighbors, they could put up considerable resistance. The lords despised the burghers. They saw them not just as a different class but as a group of freed slaves, almost another species. The burghers' wealth always stirred the lords' envy and anger, and the lords robbed them whenever they could, without mercy or regret. The burghers naturally hated and feared the lords. So did the king. He might look down on the burghers, but had no reason to hate or fear them. Shared interests therefore led the burghers to support the king and the king to support them against the lords. They were enemies of his enemies, so it served his interests to make them as safe and independent of the lords as possible. By giving them their own magistrates, the right to make local laws, the right to build defensive walls, and the power to organize residents for defense, he gave them every means of security and independence from the barons that he could give. Without a regular government of this kind and an authority that could make residents act according to a shared plan, a voluntary defensive alliance could neither protect them for long nor give the king substantial support. By granting them the permanent lease of their town, he also removed every reason for the people he wanted as friends and, so to speak, allies to suspect he might later oppress them by raising the town's rent or leasing it to someone else.
Accordingly, the rulers who got along worst with their barons seem to have given their towns the most generous grants. King John of England, for example, appears to have been an exceptionally generous benefactor to his towns. [See Madox.] Philip I. of France lost all authority over his barons. According to Father Daniel, near the end of Philip's reign his son Lewis, later known as Lewis the Fat, consulted bishops on the royal estates about the best way to curb the powerful lords' violence. They made two proposals. One was to create a new system of local authority by establishing magistrates and a town council in every substantial town on his estates. The other was to create a new militia: residents of those towns would march out under their own magistrates to help the king when needed. According to French historians of antiquity, the establishment of French city magistrates and councils 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 serious force. [See Pfeffel.]
At that time, city militias seem to have been no weaker than those in the countryside. Since they could assemble faster in an emergency, they often had the advantage in disputes with neighboring lords. In places such as Italy or Switzerland, rulers lost all their authority because of distance from their seat of government, the country's natural strength, or some other reason. The cities there generally became independent republics and defeated all the neighboring nobility. They forced the nobles to tear down their country castles and live in the city like other peaceful residents. This is the brief history of the republic of Berne and several other Swiss cities. Apart from Venice, whose history is somewhat different, it is also the history of all the major Italian republics, so many of which rose and fell 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, the ruler's authority was often very weak but never disappeared entirely. Cities there had no chance to become fully independent. They did, however, become powerful enough that the ruler could not tax them beyond the town's fixed rent without their consent. So they were asked to send representatives to the general assembly of the kingdom's estates. There they could join the clergy and barons in granting the king extra help when the need was urgent. Their representatives also seem sometimes to have served as a counterweight to the great lords in these assemblies, since townspeople generally favored the king's power more than the lords did. This is how burghs came to be represented in the estates-general of Europe's great monarchies.
Cities gained order and good government, along with personal freedom and safety, while people working the land in the countryside were still exposed to every kind of violence. People who cannot defend themselves naturally settle for the necessities of life. Getting more might only tempt their oppressors to take it. But when people are sure they can keep the fruits of their work, they naturally work harder to improve their condition and obtain not just necessities but comforts and finer things too. So work aimed at producing more than a bare living took root in cities long before it was common among people working the land. If a poor cultivator held in villeinage managed to build up a little stock, he would carefully hide it from his master. Otherwise it would belong to that master. At the first opportunity he would flee to a town. The law then favored townspeople and sought to reduce the lords' power over rural people. If he could hide from his lord's search in a town for a year, he would be free forever. Thus any stock built up by hardworking people in the countryside naturally fled to cities. These were the only safe havens where the people who had acquired it could keep it.
Of course, a city's people must ultimately get their food, all the materials for their work, and the means of doing it from the countryside. But a city on the coast or beside a navigable river does not have to get these things from nearby farmland. Its reach is much wider. It can get supplies from the farthest parts of the world in exchange for goods its people make, or by carrying goods between distant countries and exchanging one country's products for another's. In this way, a city might become rich and splendid while both its neighboring countryside and every country it traded with remained poor and miserable. Each of those countries on its own might supply only a little of the city's food or work, but together they could supply plenty of both. Even within the limited trade of those days, however, some countries were wealthy and industrious. The Greek empire was one as long as it lasted, and so was the Saracens' empire under the Abassides. Egypt was another until the Turks conquered it, as were part of the Barbary coast and all the provinces of Spain governed by the Moors.
Italy's cities seem to have been Europe's first cities to become substantially wealthy through trade. Italy stood at the center of what was then the developed and civilized part of the world. The crusades also greatly benefited some Italian cities. By wasting so much stock and killing so many people, they must have slowed progress in most of Europe. But the great armies marching from every region to conquer the Holy Land gave Venice, Genoa, and Pisa's shipping an extraordinary amount of business. Their ships sometimes carried the armies there, and always supplied them with provisions. The cities acted, so to speak, as the armies' suppliers. The most destructive frenzy ever to seize Europe's nations thus made those republics wealthy.
Trading cities imported well-made goods and costly luxuries from richer countries. These appealed to the vanity of great landowners, who eagerly bought them with large amounts of the unprocessed produce of their estates. As a result, much of Europe's trade at the time involved exchanging its own raw produce for the manufactured goods of more developed nations. For example, English wool was exchanged for French wines and fine cloth from Flanders. In the same way, Polish corn today is exchanged for French wines and brandies, and for silks and velvets from France and Italy.
Foreign trade thus brought a taste for finer, better-made goods to countries that did not produce them. Once enough people wanted these goods to create substantial demand, merchants naturally tried to save transport costs by establishing similar manufactures at home. This is how the first manufactures in western Europe that produced goods for distant markets seem to have begun after the fall of the Roman empire.
It is important to note that no large country has ever lived, or could live, without making some goods. When people say such a country has no manufactures, they must mean that it has no finer, more sophisticated ones, or none suitable for sale in distant markets. In every large country, the clothing and household furnishings of most people are made by their own labor. This is even more consistently true in poor countries commonly said to have no manufactures than in rich countries said to have many. Among the poorest people of a rich country, both clothing and household furnishings generally include a much greater share of foreign goods than they do in a poor country.
Manufactures that can produce for distant markets seem to have arisen in different countries by two different routes.
Sometimes they arose as described above: particular merchants and business organizers used their stock to set them up in imitation of similar foreign manufactures. This was, so to speak, a forceful intervention. These manufactures grew out of foreign trade. That seems to be the origin of the old silk, velvet, and brocade manufactures that flourished in Lucca during the thirteenth century. One of Machiavel's heroes, Castruccio Castracani, drove them away through his tyranny. In 1310, nine hundred families were forced out of Lucca. Thirty-one went to Venice and offered to establish silk manufacture there. [See Sandi Istoria civile de Vinezia, part 2 vol. i, page 247 and 256.] Venice accepted their offer and gave them many privileges. They began manufacturing with three hundred workers. The fine-cloth manufactures that once flourished in Flanders seem to have had a similar origin, as did those introduced into England at the beginning of Elizabeth's reign. So do the silk manufactures now found in Lyons and Spitalfields. Manufactures introduced in this way generally use foreign raw materials, because they imitate foreign manufactures. When silk manufacture first began in Venice, all its materials came from Sicily and the Levant. Lucca's older manufacture also used foreign materials. Growing mulberry trees and raising silkworms seem not to have been common in northern Italy before the sixteenth century. These practices did not reach France until the reign of Charles IX. The Flanders manufactures mainly used Spanish and English wool. Spanish wool supplied not England's first woolen manufacture, but its first one fit for distant sale. Today, more than one half of the silk used by the Lyons manufacture comes from abroad; at first, all or nearly all of it did. None of the materials used in Spitalfields is ever likely to come from England. Since these manufactures usually begin as plans devised by a few individuals, they may be established in a seaport or an inland town, depending on the interests, judgments, or whims of their founders.
At other times, manufactures for distant sale develop naturally, almost on their own. Household production and the making of coarser goods, which take place even in the poorest and least developed countries, gradually become more skilled and refined. Manufactures that arise this way generally use local materials. They often seem to have first improved in fertile inland areas, a considerable though not an enormous distance from the coast, and sometimes from any water transport. An inland district with fertile land that is easy to cultivate produces far more food than its farmers need to live on. But the cost of moving goods by land and the difficulty of river transport can make it hard to send the surplus elsewhere. Abundant food is therefore cheap. This draws many workers to the area, where their labor can buy them more necessities and comforts than elsewhere. They turn locally produced materials into finished goods and exchange their work, or the payment they receive for it, for more materials and food. Their work gives new value to the surplus raw produce by removing the need to carry it to a waterfront or distant market. In return, they offer the farmers useful or pleasing goods on better terms than the farmers could have obtained before. Farmers receive a better price for their surplus and can buy other comforts they need more cheaply. They are therefore both encouraged and able to produce a still larger surplus by improving and cultivating their land more carefully. The land's fertility gave rise to manufacturing, and manufacturing in turn increases its fertility further. At first manufacturers supply their neighbors. As their work improves, they supply more distant markets. Raw produce and even coarse manufactured goods can hardly bear the high cost of a long journey overland, but finer goods easily can. A small volume of them often holds the value of a large quantity of raw produce. A piece of fine cloth weighing only eighty pounds, for example, has a price that covers not only eighty pounds weight of wool but sometimes several thousand weight of corn. That corn supported the various workers and their immediate employers. It would have been difficult to ship the corn itself abroad, but its value is effectively exported in the finished cloth, which can easily reach the farthest parts of the world. This is how manufacturing arose naturally, almost on its own, in Leeds, Halifax, Sheffield, Birmingham, and Wolverhampton. These manufactures grew out of agriculture. In modern European history, they generally spread and improved later than manufactures born of foreign trade. England had been known for fine cloth made with Spanish wool for more than a century before any manufactures that now thrive in the towns just named were suitable for foreign sale. The latter could only expand and improve after agriculture expanded and improved. That development was the final and greatest effect of foreign trade and of the manufactures it immediately brought about, as I shall now explain.
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 TRADE IN TOWNS HELPED IMPROVE THE COUNTRYSIDE.
The growth and wealth of trading and manufacturing towns helped improve and cultivate the countries they belonged to in three ways.
First, towns provided a large, reliable market for raw produce from the countryside. This encouraged farmers to cultivate and improve their land further. The benefit did not stop at the borders of the countries where the towns stood. It reached, to varying degrees, every country they traded with. The towns offered all those countries a market for some of their raw or manufactured goods, and so encouraged work and improvement in all of them. Their own country necessarily gained the most from this market because it was nearby. Transporting its raw produce cost less. Traders could therefore pay its growers a better price and still sell to consumers as cheaply as they could sell goods from farther away.
Second, townspeople often spent the wealth they had earned on land for sale, much of which was uncultivated. Merchants commonly want to become country gentlemen. When they do, they are generally the best people at improving land. A merchant is used to putting money into profitable ventures, while a country gentleman who has done nothing else is used to spending it on his lifestyle. The merchant often watches his money go out and then return with a profit. The gentleman, once he spends it, rarely expects to see it again. These different habits naturally affect how they approach every kind of business. Merchants usually undertake projects boldly; country gentlemen are usually cautious. A merchant will spend a large stock of money at once on improving his land if he has good reason to expect its value to rise enough to justify the cost. A country gentleman, if he has any such stock at all, rarely risks spending it this way. If he makes improvements, he usually pays for them not out of stock but out of what he can save from his yearly revenue. Anyone who has lived in a trading town surrounded by unimproved countryside has probably often noticed how much more energetically merchants improve land than country gentlemen do. Business also gives merchants habits of order, thrift, and attention to detail. These make them much better equipped to carry out an improvement profitably and successfully.
Third and finally, trade and manufacturing gradually brought order and good government, together with personal freedom and safety, to country people. Before that, they had lived almost constantly at war with their neighbors and in servile dependence on their superiors. This effect has attracted the least notice but is by far the most important. As far as I know, Mr Hume is the only writer who has yet pointed it out.
In a country with no foreign trade and no finer manufactures, a great landowner cannot exchange most of the produce left over after supporting the farmers for anything he wants. Instead, he consumes it all by feeding guests at home in a lavish, rustic way. If the surplus can support a hundred or a thousand men, he can put it to no other use than supporting a hundred or a thousand men. So he is always surrounded by a crowd of retainers and dependents. They give nothing of equal value in return for their support and live entirely on his generosity. They must therefore obey him, just as soldiers must obey the ruler who pays them. Before trade and manufacturing spread through Europe, the hospitality of the rich and powerful, from the ruler down to the smallest baron, went far beyond anything we can easily imagine today. Westminster-hall served as William Rufus's dining room and may often have been barely large enough for his guests. Thomas Becket was considered splendid for covering the floor of his hall with clean hay or rushes in season. Knights and squires who could not find seats could then sit on the floor for dinner without ruining their fine clothes. The great Earl of Warwick is said to have fed 30,000 people each day at his various manors. This figure may be exaggerated, but the true number must have been very large for such an exaggeration to be possible. Not many years ago, people offered almost the same kind of hospitality in many parts of the Highlands of Scotland. It seems common wherever trade and manufactures are little known. Doctor Pocock says that he saw an Arabian chief eating dinner in the streets of a town where he had come to sell his cattle. The chief invited everyone passing by, even ordinary beggars, to sit with him and share his feast.
People who occupied land depended on the great landowner in every way, just as his retainers did. Even those who were not villeins rented at the owner's pleasure. Their rent was nowhere near the value of what their land provided for their living. Some years ago in the Highlands of Scotland, a crown, half a crown, a sheep, or a lamb was a common rent for land that supported a family. That is still true in some places today, and money does not buy more goods there now than elsewhere. In a country where a great estate's surplus produce must be consumed on the estate, the owner often finds it easier for people to consume some of it away from his house, as long as they depend on him as much as his retainers or household servants do. This saves him from hosting an unwieldy crowd or maintaining too large a household. A tenant who may be dismissed at will, whose land supports his family for little more than a token rent, depends on the landowner as much as any servant or retainer and must obey him just as fully. The owner feeds his servants and retainers in his own house and his tenants in theirs. Both groups live on his generosity, which he can withdraw whenever he pleases.
The power of the old barons rested on the authority that great landowners necessarily held over their tenants and retainers in these circumstances. They inevitably became judges in peacetime and military leaders in wartime for everyone living on their estates. They could keep order and enforce the law on their own lands because each could turn all his residents against anyone who did wrong. No one else had enough authority to do that, least of all the king. In those times the king was little more than the biggest landowner in his realm, whom the other great landowners respected to some extent so they could defend themselves together against shared enemies. On a powerful lord's land, the people were armed and used to supporting one another. For the king to collect even a small debt there by his own authority would have taken almost as much effort as ending a civil war. He therefore had to leave the administration of justice across most of the country to people who could actually carry it out. For the same reason, he left command of the rural militia to those whom it would obey.
It is wrong to think these landowners' powers of local judgment began with feudal law. For several centuries before Europe even knew the name of feudal law, great landowners held such rights through outright ownership of their lands. Their rights included the highest powers to judge civil and criminal cases, raise troops, mint money, and even make local laws for their own people. Saxon lords in England appear to have had as much authority and power of judgment before the Conquest as Norman lords had afterward. Yet feudal law is not thought to have become England's common law until after the Conquest. There is also no doubt that great French lords held very extensive authority and powers of judgment through outright ownership long before feudal law reached France. This authority and these powers necessarily arose from the pattern of property ownership and ways of life just described. We do not need to go back to the distant origins of the French or English monarchies to find proof that these causes always produce these results. Much more recent times provide many examples. Less than thirty years ago, Mr Cameron of Lochiel, a gentleman of Lochaber in Scotland, exercised the highest power to judge crimes among his own people without any legal authority at all. He was not what was then called a lord of regality or even a tenant in chief, but a vassal of the Duke of Argyll. He was not even a justice of peace. He is said to have judged very fairly, though without any formal legal procedures. Conditions in that part of the country may well have required him to assume this power to keep the public peace. Although this gentleman's rent never exceeded £500 a-year, in 1745 he took 800 of his own people with him into the rebellion.
The introduction of feudal law can be seen as an effort to limit the power of great lords who owned their lands outright, not to increase it. It set up a regular chain of authority, with a long series of services and duties, from the king down to the smallest landowner. When a landowner was a minor, the income from his land and the management of it went to his immediate superior. The income and management of great landowners' estates therefore went to the king, who had to support and educate the young ward. As guardian, the king was also supposed to have the right to arrange the ward's marriage, provided the match was suitable to the ward's rank. This system did tend to strengthen the king and weaken great landowners, but not enough to bring order and good government to the countryside. It could not change enough of the pattern of property ownership and ways of life that had caused the disorder. Government remained, as before, too weak at the top and too strong at lower levels. Indeed, the lower levels' excessive strength was what made the top weak. Even after the feudal hierarchy was established, the king could no more restrain the powerful lords' violence than he could before. They still made war whenever they wished, almost constantly against each other and very often against the king. The open countryside remained full of violence, robbery, and disorder.
Foreign trade and manufactures gradually achieved, quietly and almost unnoticed, what all the force of feudal institutions could not. They gave great landowners things for which they could exchange the entire surplus from their estates and consume it all themselves, without sharing it with tenants or retainers. "Everything for ourselves and nothing for anyone else" seems to have been the wretched rule followed by those who rule humanity in every age. Once they could consume the entire value of their rents themselves, they no longer wanted to share it with anyone. For a pair of diamond buckles, perhaps, or something equally trivial and useless, they exchanged the food for 1000 men for a year, or the money that would pay for it. With that they gave up all the power and authority those men would have given them. The buckles, though, belonged entirely to them and nobody else had a share. Under the older way of spending, they had to share with at least 1000 people. For the people making this choice, that difference settled the matter. To satisfy the most childish, petty, and selfish vanity, they gradually traded away all their power and authority.
In a country with no foreign trade or finer manufactures, a man with £10,000 a-year can hardly spend his revenue except by supporting perhaps 1000 families, all of whom must obey him. In Europe today, a man with £10,000 a-year can spend all his revenue, as he generally does, without directly supporting twenty people. Nor can he command more than ten footmen, who are not worth commanding. Indirectly, perhaps, he supports as many or even more people than he could have supported under the old way of spending. The costly goods he buys with all his revenue may amount to very little in physical quantity, but many workers must gather and prepare them. The high price largely consists of those workers' wages and the profits of their immediate employers. By paying it, he indirectly pays all those wages and profits and helps support all those workers and their employers. But his share of any individual's support is generally tiny. For very few people, perhaps, is it as much as a tenth; for many it is less than a hundredth; and for some it is less than a thousandth or even a ten thousandth of their yearly support. So although he helps support them all, they remain more or less independent of him. In general, they can live without his custom.
When great landowners use their rents to support tenants and retainers, each owner fully supports all his own tenants and retainers. When they spend their rents on traders and craftspeople instead, together they may support as many people as before, or even more, given the waste involved in lavish country hospitality. But each landowner on his own often provides only a tiny fraction of the support of any one person in this larger group. Each trader or craftsperson earns a living through the business of not just one customer but a hundred or a thousand. Though each depends to some extent on all of them together, none depends completely on any single one.
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 great landowners gradually spent more on themselves, they had to reduce the number of people they kept in their households, until they dismissed them all. For the same reason, they gradually dismissed tenants they did not need. They enlarged farms and reduced the number of people occupying the land to the number needed to farm it, despite complaints that the countryside was losing people. This was the number needed under the limited farming methods and improvements of the time. By removing people they no longer needed to feed and charging farmers the full value of their farms, owners obtained a larger surplus, or the price of a larger surplus. Merchants and manufacturers soon gave them ways to spend it on themselves, just as they had spent the rest. As this process continued, owners wanted to raise rents beyond what their land could yield in its current condition. Their tenants could agree only if they were guaranteed possession for enough years to recover the cost of further improvements, with a profit. The landlords’ expensive vanity made them willing to accept this condition. This is how long leases began.
Even a tenant who can be dismissed at will, and who pays the full value of the land, is not entirely dependent on the landlord. Each receives an equal financial benefit from the other. Such a tenant will not risk his life or fortune in the owner’s service. With a long lease, he is entirely independent. His landlord cannot expect even the smallest service from him beyond what the lease expressly requires or what the country’s generally known law imposes.
Once tenants had become independent and the household followers had been dismissed, great landowners could no longer interfere with the regular administration of justice or disturb the country’s peace. They had sold their birthright, but not like Esau, who sold his for a bowl of food because he was hungry and in need. Surrounded by plenty, they sold theirs for little ornaments and toys more suitable for children than for grown men to pursue seriously. They became no more powerful than a prosperous city resident or tradesman. Regular government took hold in the countryside as well as in the cities, because no one had enough power to disrupt it in either place.
This may not be relevant to the present subject, but I cannot help pointing out that families which have held a substantial estate from father to son for many generations are very rare in commercial countries. They are very common in places with little commerce, such as Wales and the Highlands of Scotland. Arabian histories seem full of family lineages. A history written by a Tartar Khan, translated into several European languages, contains hardly anything else. That suggests old families are very common among these peoples. Where a rich man can spend his revenue only by supporting as many people as it will support, he tends to use it all up. His generosity, it seems, is rarely strong enough to make him try to support more people than he can afford. But where he can spend the greatest revenue on himself, his spending often knows no limit, because his vanity and love of himself often know none. In commercial countries, then, wealth rarely stays long in the same family, despite the strongest laws meant to prevent its dispersal. Among simpler peoples it often stays in the family without any such laws. For shepherding peoples such as the Tartars and Arabs, property consists of consumable things, which makes such laws impossible.
In this way, two groups of people brought about a change of immense importance to public well-being without the slightest intention of serving the public. The great landowners’ only motive was to satisfy the most childish vanity. The merchants and craftspeople were much less ridiculous: they simply pursued their own interests, following the peddler’s rule of making a penny wherever they could. Neither group understood or foresaw the great change that one group’s foolishness and the other’s industry were gradually bringing about.
Thus, in most of Europe, trade and manufacturing in cities did not result from improvements to farming and the countryside. Instead, they caused those improvements.
Because this order of development goes against the natural course of things, it is necessarily slow and uncertain. Compare the slow progress of European countries that depend heavily on trade and manufacturing for their wealth with the rapid growth of our North American colonies, whose wealth is based entirely on agriculture. In most of Europe, the population is thought to take at least five hundred years to double. In several of our North American colonies, it doubles in twenty or five-and-twenty years. In Europe, the law of primogeniture and various forms of perpetual restriction on estates prevent large estates from being divided and keep small landowners from multiplying. A small landowner knows every part of his little property and feels the affection that ownership, especially of a small property, naturally inspires. He enjoys not only farming it but making it beautiful. Such owners are generally the hardest-working, most knowledgeable and most successful improvers of land. Those same rules also keep so much land off the market that there is always more capital looking to buy land than land for sale. Land that does sell therefore commands a monopoly price. Its rent never covers the interest on the purchase price, and the owner must also pay for repairs and other occasional expenses that do not apply to money lent at interest. Everywhere in Europe, buying land is a very unprofitable use of a small capital. Someone of moderate means may choose to invest his small capital in land on retiring from business because it is safer. A professional who earns his revenue elsewhere may also like to safeguard his savings in land. But a young man who uses a capital of two or three thousand pounds to buy and farm a small plot, instead of going into trade or a profession, can expect a happy, independent life. He must, however, give up any hope of the great fortune or distinction he might have had an equal chance of gaining by using his stock differently. Although such a person cannot hope to own land, he will often feel that becoming a tenant farmer is beneath him. Thus, because so little land is for sale and what is available costs so much, a great deal of capital is not invested in farming and improving land as it otherwise would be. In North America, by contrast, fifty or sixty pounds is often enough stock to start a plantation. Buying and improving uncultivated land there is the most profitable use of both small and large capitals, and the surest path to all the wealth and distinction anyone there might want. Such land in North America costs almost nothing, or much less than the value of what it naturally produces. This is impossible in Europe, or anywhere else where all land has long been privately owned. But if an owner with many children left his land to them in equal shares 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 unrestricted rent from land would come closer to covering interest on the purchase price, and buying land could become as profitable a use of a small capital as any other.
England’s naturally fertile soil, long coastline compared with its total area, and many navigable rivers offer water transport deep inland. These features make it perhaps as well suited as any large European country to foreign trade, manufacturing for distant markets, and the improvements they can bring. From the beginning of Elizabeth’s reign, the English legislature has paid particular attention to trade and manufacturing. In fact, taken as a whole, the law of no European country, not even Holland, favors these activities more. Trade and manufacturing have advanced continuously during this period. Farming and improvement of the countryside have also advanced gradually, but seem to have followed far behind their faster progress. Most of England was probably farmed before Elizabeth’s reign. Yet a very large part remains uncultivated, and the farming of by far the greater part falls far short of what it could be. English law nevertheless favors agriculture, not just indirectly by protecting trade, but with several direct incentives. Except in times of scarcity, exporting grain is not only permitted but rewarded with a bounty. In times of moderate abundance, duties on imported foreign grain are so high that they effectively prohibit it. Importing live cattle is always forbidden except from Ireland, and imports from there were allowed only recently. Farmers therefore hold a monopoly against their fellow citizens over the two largest and most important kinds of farm produce: bread and meat. These incentives may, as I will try to show later, be entirely ineffective at heart. But they at least show that the legislature means well toward agriculture. More important than any of them, English yeomen have as much security, independence, and respectability as law can give them. No country with primogeniture, tithes, and, in some cases, perpetual restrictions on estates despite their conflict with the spirit of the law could encourage agriculture more than England does. Yet this is the state of its farming. What would it have been if the law had given farming no direct encouragement beyond what trade indirectly provides, and had left yeomen in the same position as in most other European countries? More than two hundred years have now passed since Elizabeth’s reign began, a period about as long as human prosperity usually lasts.
France seems to have had a substantial amount of foreign trade almost a century before England became known as a trading country. By the standards of the time, France had a sizable navy before Charles VIII’s expedition to Naples. Yet overall its farming and improvement lag behind England’s. French law has never given agriculture the same direct encouragement.
Spain and Portugal carry on a great deal of foreign trade with the rest of Europe, though mainly in foreign ships. Their trade with their colonies is conducted in their own ships and is much larger because those colonies are so rich and extensive. But this trade has never brought much manufacturing for distant markets to either country, and most of both countries remains uncultivated. Portugal has engaged in foreign trade longer than any other large European country except Italy.
Italy is the only large European country that seems to have been farmed and improved everywhere through foreign trade and manufacturing for distant markets. According to Guicciardini, before Charles VIII’s invasion, its most mountainous and barren districts were farmed as thoroughly as its flattest and most fertile areas. Its favorable location and the many independent states that existed there at the time probably contributed considerably to such widespread farming. Still, despite this broad statement by one of the most careful and restrained modern historians, Italy might not then have been better farmed than England is now.
Yet capital brought into a country by trade and manufacturing remains a highly insecure and uncertain possession until some of it is firmly invested in farming and improving its land. It has rightly been said that a merchant does not necessarily belong to any particular country. Where he conducts his business matters little to him. Even a minor annoyance may cause him to move his capital, and all the work it supports, from one country to another. None of that capital can truly be said to belong to a country until it has been spread across the country in buildings or lasting improvements to land. Apart from obscure histories of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, no trace remains of the great wealth once said to belong to most of the Hanse Towns. We do not even know for certain where some stood or which European towns some of their Latin names refer to. But although the disasters that struck Italy in the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries greatly reduced trade and manufacturing in the cities of Lombardy and Tuscany, these regions remain among Europe’s most populous and best farmed. Civil wars in Flanders, followed by Spanish rule, drove away the thriving trade of Antwerp, Ghent, and Bruges. Yet Flanders remains one of Europe’s richest, best-farmed and most populous provinces. Ordinary changes in war and government can easily dry up the sources of wealth based only on trade. Wealth based on substantial improvements in agriculture lasts much longer. Only more violent upheavals, caused by hostile and barbarous peoples plundering for a century or two, can destroy it. Such upheavals occurred in the western provinces of Europe for some time before and after the fall of the Roman empire.
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
On Systems of Political Economy
Political economy, as a subject for a statesman or lawmaker, has two separate goals. First, it aims to give people enough revenue or means of living—or, more precisely, to enable them to provide these for themselves. Second, it aims to provide the state with enough revenue for public services. Its goal is to enrich both the people and the sovereign.
The different ways wealth has grown in different times and nations have led to two systems of political economy for enriching the people. One can be called the commercial system, and the other the agricultural system. I will explain both as clearly and fully as I can, beginning with the commercial system. It is the modern system, and people in our country and time understand it best.
On the Principle of the Commercial or Mercantile System
The widespread belief that wealth consists of money, or gold and silver, naturally comes from money’s two roles: it is a tool for trade and a measure of value. Because it is a tool for trade, money lets us obtain whatever else we need more easily than any other commodity does. Getting money, we always find, is the hard part. Once we have it, we can easily make further purchases. Because money is a measure of value, we judge the value of all other commodities by how much money they can be exchanged for. We say a rich man is worth a great deal and a poor man is worth very little money. We say that a thrifty person, or someone eager to become rich, loves money, while a careless, generous, or extravagant person does not care about it. In ordinary language, becoming rich means getting money, and wealth and money mean the same thing in every respect.
Likewise, people assume that a rich country has plenty of money and that piling up gold and silver is the quickest way to enrich it. For a while after America was discovered, the first thing the Spaniards asked when they reached an unfamiliar coast was whether gold or silver could be found nearby. The answer told them whether the land was worth settling or conquering. Plano Carpino, a monk sent as an ambassador by the king of France to a son of the famous Gengis Khan, says that the Tartars often asked him whether France had plenty of sheep and oxen. They asked this for the same reason as the Spaniards: to find out whether the country was rich enough to conquer. The Tartars, like other shepherding peoples who generally did not use money, used cattle to trade and to measure value. So they thought wealth consisted of cattle, just as the Spaniards thought it consisted of gold and silver. Of these two views, the Tartar view was perhaps closer to the truth.
Mr Locke points out a difference between money and other movable goods. All other movable goods, he says, are consumed so easily that a nation cannot count on wealth held in them. A nation with plenty of them one year may lack them badly the next, even without exporting any, simply through waste and extravagance. Money, by contrast, is a dependable friend. Although it changes hands, it is unlikely to be used up if it can be kept inside the country. He therefore thinks gold and silver are the most solid, lasting part of a nation’s movable wealth. For that reason, he believes increasing their supply should be the main goal of political economy.
Others agree that if a nation were cut off from the rest of the world, the amount of money in circulation would not matter. The goods people consume would simply trade for more or fewer coins. They acknowledge that the country’s real wealth or poverty would depend entirely on whether those goods were plentiful or scarce. But they think the situation is different for countries connected with foreign nations that must fight wars abroad and maintain fleets and armies far away. Those forces, they say, can be paid only by sending money abroad. A nation cannot send much abroad unless it has plenty at home. Therefore, in peacetime every such nation must build up gold and silver to fund foreign wars when necessary.
Because of these popular beliefs, every European nation has tried, with little success, every possible way to pile up gold and silver at home. Spain and Portugal own the main mines that supply Europe with these metals. They have either banned their export under the harshest penalties or imposed a substantial duty on it. Similar bans seem to have been part of most other European nations’ earlier policies. They even appear where we would least expect them: some old acts of the Scotch Parliament forbid taking gold or silver out of the kingdom under heavy penalties. France and England once followed the same policy.
When these countries began trading more extensively, merchants often found the ban extremely inconvenient. They could frequently buy the foreign goods they wanted more cheaply with gold or silver than with any other commodity. They wanted these goods either to import into their own country or to carry on to another foreign country. So they protested that the ban harmed trade.
Their first argument was that exporting gold and silver to buy foreign goods did not always reduce the amount of those metals at home. It could often increase it instead. If the country did not consume more foreign goods as a result, it could export those goods again and sell them abroad for a large profit, bringing home much more treasure than it had first sent out. Mr Mun compares this foreign trade to sowing and harvesting: “If we look only at what the farmer does at sowing time, when he throws plenty of good grain into the ground, we will think him mad rather than a farmer. But when we look at his work at harvest, which is the purpose of all his efforts, we will see the value and plentiful increase produced by what he did.”
Their second argument was that the ban could not stop gold and silver from being exported. These metals were easy to smuggle because they were small in size compared with their value. Only proper attention to what they called the balance of trade could prevent their export. If a country exported goods worth more than its imports, foreign nations owed it the difference. They had to pay in gold and silver, increasing the supply at home. If the country imported more than it exported, it owed foreign nations the difference, had to pay them in the same way, and lost some of those metals. In this case, they argued, banning their export could not stop it; by adding danger, the ban only made it cost more. The exchange rate would then move further against the country that owed the balance. A merchant buying a bill payable in the foreign country had to pay the banker not just for the normal risk, work and cost of sending money there, but also for the extra risk caused by the ban. They argued that the worse the exchange rate was for a country, the more unfavorable its balance of trade necessarily became. Its money was worth correspondingly less than the money of the country it owed. If the exchange rate between England and Holland was five per cent. against England, for example, it would take 105 ounces of silver in England to buy a bill for 100 ounces of silver in Holland. Thus 105 ounces in England would be worth only 100 ounces in Holland and would buy only a corresponding quantity of Dutch goods. Conversely, 100 ounces in Holland would be worth 105 ounces in England and would buy a corresponding quantity of English goods. The exchange-rate difference would make English goods sold in Holland that much cheaper and Dutch goods sold in England that much more expensive. As a result, the first would bring that much less Dutch money to England and the second would take that much more English money to Holland. England’s trade balance would therefore become that much worse, requiring a larger payment of gold and silver to Holland.
These arguments were partly sound and partly misleading. They were sound in saying that exporting gold and silver for trade could often benefit a country. They were also sound in saying that a ban could not prevent exports when private people found it profitable to export the metals. But they were misleading in assuming that the government must do more to preserve or increase the supply of these metals than it must do for any other useful goods. Free trade supplies those other goods in the proper quantity without government attention. They were perhaps also misleading in claiming that an unfavorable exchange rate must worsen what they called an unfavorable balance of trade or cause more gold and silver to be exported. A high exchange rate did impose a heavy cost on merchants who had payments to make abroad. They had to pay more for bankers’ bills payable in those countries. But although the ban’s added risk might cost bankers something extra, it did not necessarily send any more money abroad. That extra cost would generally be spent at home to smuggle the money out. It would rarely result in the export of even a single sixpence beyond the exact sum owed. A high exchange rate would also encourage merchants to bring their exports as close as possible to their imports, so they would pay the costly exchange rate on as little money as possible. Further, it would act like a tax: it would raise the price of foreign goods and reduce their consumption. So it would tend to reduce, not increase, what they called the unfavorable balance of trade and the resulting export of gold and silver.
Despite their flaws, these arguments persuaded the people who heard them. Merchants presented them to parliaments, princes’ councils, nobles and country gentlemen. People thought the merchants understood trade, while their listeners knew they understood little about it. Experience showed nobles, country gentlemen and merchants alike that foreign trade enriched the country. None of them knew very well how. Merchants knew perfectly well how it enriched themselves; knowing that was their business. Knowing how it enriched the country was not. They considered that question only when they wanted their country to change a law governing foreign trade. They then needed to say something about the benefits of foreign trade and how the existing laws kept it from providing those benefits. The people who had to decide the matter found it very satisfying to hear that foreign trade brought money into the country but the laws stopped it from bringing in as much as it could. So the arguments had the desired effect. France and England restricted their bans on exporting gold and silver to their own coins. They allowed foreign coins and bullion to be exported freely. Holland and some other places extended this freedom even to their own coins. Governments stopped trying to guard against exports of gold and silver and turned instead to monitoring the balance of trade, which they took to be the only cause of a rise or fall in their supply. They exchanged one pointless task for another that was far more complex, more troublesome and just as pointless. The title of Mun’s book, England’s Treasure in Foreign Trade, became a basic principle of political economy not only in England but in every trading country. Domestic trade is the most important trade of all: with an equal amount of capital, it brings the country’s people the greatest revenue and employment. Yet it was treated as useful only insofar as it helped foreign trade. People said that domestic trade brought no money into the country and took none out, so it could make a country richer or poorer only by indirectly affecting 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 its own mines must get gold and silver from abroad, just as a country without vineyards must get wine from abroad. But the government need not pay more attention to one than the other. A country that can afford to buy wine will always get the wine it needs. A country that can afford to buy gold and silver will never run short of them. Like other goods, they can be bought at a price. Just as these metals pay for other goods, other goods can pay for these metals. We safely trust free trade to supply the wine we need without government attention. We can be equally sure it will supply all the gold and silver we can afford to buy or use, whether to circulate our goods or for other purposes.
In every country, the supply of each good that people can buy or produce naturally adjusts to effective demand. This is demand from people willing to pay all the rent, labor costs and profits necessary to produce it and bring it to market. No goods adjust to effective demand more easily or accurately than gold and silver. Because they have high value but take up little space, they can be moved especially easily from one place to another: from places where they are cheap to places where they are expensive, and from places with more than effective demand requires to places with less. If England needed more gold, for example, a packet boat could bring fifty tons of gold from Lisbon or anywhere else it was available. This could be minted into more than five millions of guineas. But importing grain worth the same amount, 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 be big enough.
If a country imports more gold and silver than its effective demand requires, no government can stop those metals from being exported. Even the harsh laws of Spain and Portugal cannot keep their gold and silver at home. Continual imports from Peru and Brazil exceed those countries’ effective demand, pushing the price of the metals there below their price in neighboring countries. Conversely, if a country had less than effective demand required, so that the price rose above its neighbors’ price, the government would not need to do anything to bring them in. Even if it tried to prevent imports, it would fail. Once the Spartans could afford to buy these metals, they got past all the barriers that the laws of Lycurgus had placed in their way into Lacedaemon. Nor can all the customs authorities’ harsh laws keep out teas from the Dutch and Gottenburg East India companies, because they are somewhat cheaper than tea from the British company. Yet a pound of tea takes up about a hundred times as much space as the amount of silver commonly paid for it at one of its highest prices, sixteen shillings. It takes up more than two thousand times as much space as the same price in gold, making it correspondingly harder to smuggle.
Gold and silver can easily move from places with plenty to places that need them. That is one reason their prices do not fluctuate constantly as the prices of most other goods do. Bulk keeps many goods from moving when a market has too much or too little of them. The prices of these metals do change, but generally slowly, gradually and evenly. Some believe, perhaps without much basis, that their value in Europe has fallen steadily but gradually throughout the present and previous century because of constant imports from the Spanish West Indies. But suddenly raising or lowering their price enough to cause a large, noticeable, immediate change in the money prices of all other goods would take a change in commerce as great as the discovery of America caused.
If, despite all this, a country that could afford gold and silver did run short of them, more substitutes would be available than for almost any other good. If manufacturing materials are lacking, work must stop. If food is lacking, people must starve. But if money is lacking, people can barter, though it is quite inconvenient. They can buy and sell on credit, with different dealers settling their mutual accounts once a-month or once a-year. This is less inconvenient. Well-managed paper money can replace it without inconvenience and, in some cases, with benefits. From every point of view, then, governments have never spent their attention less usefully than when they have tried to preserve or increase a country’s money supply.
Yet no complaint is more common than a shortage of money. Money, like wine, is always scarce for people who cannot afford to buy it and cannot get credit to borrow it. People with either means or credit rarely lack the money or wine they need. But complaints about a shortage of money do not come only from reckless spenders. Sometimes the complaint spreads throughout a trading town and the surrounding countryside. The usual cause is trading beyond one’s means. Prudent people whose plans exceed their capital can be just as unable to buy or borrow money as spendthrifts whose spending exceeds their revenue. Before their plans produce returns, their stock runs out, along with their credit. They go everywhere seeking loans, and everyone tells them there is no money to lend. Even such widespread complaints do not always mean that fewer gold and silver coins than usual are circulating. They may mean that many people want those coins but have nothing to exchange for them. When trading profits are unusually high, dealers large and small commonly trade beyond their means. They do not necessarily send more money abroad than usual. Instead, they buy unusually large amounts of goods on credit at home and abroad and send them to distant markets. They hope to receive the proceeds before their payments fall due. But the payments come due before the proceeds arrive, and they have nothing available with which to buy money or offer good security for a loan. It is not a shortage of gold and silver that produces the general complaint about a shortage of money. The cause is the difficulty these people have in borrowing and their creditors have in getting paid.
It would be ridiculous to try to prove seriously that wealth is not money, gold or silver. Wealth consists of what money buys, and money has value only because it buys things. Money certainly always forms part of a nation’s capital. But, as already shown, it is generally a small part and always its least profitable part.
A merchant usually finds it easier to buy goods with money than to buy money with goods. This does not mean money is more essential to wealth than goods. It means that money is the accepted tool of trade. People readily give everything in exchange for it, but they are not always equally ready to give it in exchange for everything. Most goods also spoil more easily than money, so a merchant can often lose much more by keeping them. While his goods remain unsold, he is also more likely to face demands for money that he cannot meet than when their sale price is in his cash box. Besides, he earns his profit more directly by selling than by buying. For all these reasons he is generally far keener to exchange goods for money than money for goods. An individual merchant with a warehouse full of goods may be ruined if he cannot sell them in time. A country cannot be ruined in the same way. A merchant’s entire capital may consist of perishable goods intended to be sold for money. But only a very small part of the annual output of a country’s land and labor can ever be intended to buy gold and silver from its neighbors. Most is traded and consumed within the country. Even of the surplus sent abroad, most is generally intended to buy other foreign goods. So a nation would not be ruined if the goods intended to buy gold and silver could not be exchanged for them. It might suffer some loss and inconvenience, and might have to use some of the substitutes for money. Yet the yearly output of its land and labor would stay the same, or nearly so, because the same, or nearly the same, consumable capital would continue to support that production. Goods do not always obtain money as readily as money obtains goods. Over time, though, goods attract money even more inevitably than money attracts goods. Goods have many uses besides buying money; money has no use except buying goods. So money necessarily seeks out goods, but goods do not always or necessarily seek out money. A buyer does not always mean to sell again: often he means to use or consume what he buys. A seller, however, always means to buy again. The buyer may already have completed his business, while the seller has at most completed half of his. People want money not for its own sake but for what they can buy with it.
People say that goods meant to be consumed are soon used up, while gold and silver last much longer. Without the constant export of those metals, they say, a country could pile them up for centuries and increase its real wealth enormously. They therefore claim that no trade can harm a country more than exchanging these lasting metals for perishable goods. But we do not consider it harmful to exchange English hardware for French wine. Hardware, too, lasts a long time. Without its constant export, it could pile up for centuries and vastly increase the country’s supply of pots and pans. Yet clearly a country needs only as many utensils as it can use. It would be absurd to own more pots and pans than needed to cook the food normally eaten there. If the amount of food increased, the supply of pots and pans would readily grow with it. Some of the extra food would be used to buy them or to support more people making them. We should see just as readily that a country’s need for gold and silver limits its supply of those metals. People use them as coins to circulate goods and as household furnishings in the form of silverware and other plate. The amount of coin a country needs depends on the value of the goods to be circulated. Increase that value, and some of it will immediately be sent abroad to buy the extra coin needed, wherever that coin can be found. The amount of plate depends on the number and wealth of families who choose to spend money on that kind of display. Increase their number and wealth, and they will most likely spend some of their added wealth on additional plate, wherever they can find it. Trying to enrich a country by bringing in or keeping more gold and silver than it needs is as absurd as trying to give families better meals by requiring them to keep more kitchen utensils than they need. Buying unnecessary utensils would reduce, not increase, either the quantity or quality of the family’s food. Likewise, buying unnecessary gold and silver must reduce the wealth that feeds, clothes and houses people, supports them and gives them work. Gold and silver, whether coins or plate, are tools just as kitchen equipment is. Increase the need for them by increasing the goods to be circulated, handled and prepared with their help, and their supply will certainly rise. But try to increase the supply by extraordinary measures, and you will just as surely reduce their usefulness and even their supply. Their supply can never be greater than what their use requires. If they ever did pile up beyond that amount, they would be so easy to transport, and keeping them idle would cost so much, that no law could prevent them from being sent abroad immediately.
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 does not always need to build up gold and silver reserves to fight wars abroad and support fleets and armies far from home. Fleets and armies are supplied with goods people can use, not with gold and silver themselves. A nation can support a war overseas if its yearly domestic production, and the yearly revenue from its land, labor, and consumable stock, allow it to buy those goods in distant countries.
A nation can buy an army's pay and provisions in a distant country in three ways. It can send abroad some of its stored gold and silver, some of the year's manufactured goods, or some of the year's unprocessed produce.
The gold and silver stored up in a country falls into three groups: money in circulation, household silverware and other plate, and money saved over many years and kept in the ruler's treasury.
Usually, little can be spared from the country's circulating money, because there is seldom much more of it than needed. The value of the goods bought and sold each year requires a certain amount of money to move them to their consumers, and cannot keep any more money in use. Circulation draws in enough money to fill that need and no more. During a foreign war, though, some money is usually withdrawn. Many people are supported abroad, so fewer are supported at home. Fewer goods circulate at home, and less money is needed to circulate them. On such occasions England also generally issues an unusual amount of paper money, such as exchequer notes, navy bills, and bank bills. These replace circulating gold and silver, allowing more of the metals to be sent abroad. Even so, these sources could provide only a small part of the cost of a long, expensive foreign war.
Melting down household plate has always yielded even less. At the beginning of the last war, the French gained so little from doing this that it did not make up for the loss of fashionable objects.
In earlier times, the ruler's stored treasure provided a much larger and more lasting source of funds. Today, apart from the king of Prussia, European rulers do not seem to make storing treasure part of their policy.
The foreign wars of this century, perhaps the costliest in history, seem to have depended very little on sending abroad circulating money, household plate, or a ruler's treasure. The last French war cost Great Britain upwards of £90,000,000. That includes the £75,000,000 of new debt, the additional 2s. in the pound land-tax, and the annual borrowing from the sinking fund. More than two-thirds of the expense was spent far away: in Germany, Portugal, America, Mediterranean ports, and the East and West Indies. England's kings had no stored treasure. We heard of no unusual amount of plate being melted down. The country's circulating gold and silver was thought to amount to no more than £18,000,000, though the recent recoinage of gold suggests that estimate was much too low. So let us use the highest estimate I remember hearing or reading: £30,000,000 in gold and silver combined. If we had paid for the war with our money, then even on that estimate all of it would have had to leave the country and come back at least twice in between six and seven years. If that happened, it would be decisive proof that government need not guard the country's supply of money. All its money would have left and returned twice in such a short time without anyone even noticing. Yet circulation never seemed unusually short of money during that period. Few people who could pay for money had trouble getting it. Profits from foreign trade were higher than usual throughout the war, especially near its end. As always, that led to widespread over-trading in Great Britain's ports. Over-trading then produced the usual complaints that money was scarce. Many people wanted money but had neither the means to buy it nor the credit to borrow it. Because debtors had trouble borrowing, creditors had trouble getting paid. Yet people who had the means to pay could generally obtain gold and silver at their value.
So the huge expense of the last war must have been paid mainly by exporting British goods of some kind, not gold and silver. When the government or its agents contracted with a merchant to send funds abroad, the merchant would naturally try to pay the foreign correspondent on whom he drew a bill by exporting goods instead of metals. If British goods were not wanted in that country, he would send them to another country where he could buy a bill payable in the first. Shipping goods suited to a market brings a substantial profit; shipping gold and silver rarely does. When the metals go abroad to buy foreign goods, the merchant profits from selling the goods brought back, not from buying them. But when the metals go abroad merely to pay a debt, he receives no goods in return and earns no profit. He therefore uses his ingenuity to pay foreign debts by exporting goods instead of gold and silver. The author of the Present State of the Nation accordingly notes the large quantity of British goods exported during the last war without any goods returning to the country in exchange.
Besides those three kinds of gold and silver, every major trading country has a considerable amount of bullion moving in and out for foreign trade. As this bullion moves among trading countries much as a country's coins move within it, we can think of it as the money of the great mercantile republic. Goods moving within a country determine the movement and direction of its coins; goods moving between countries determine those of the mercantile republic's money. Both kinds of money make exchange easier, one among people of the same nation and the other among people of different nations. Some of this international money may have helped fund the last war, and probably did. In a general war, it would naturally move differently than in deep peace. More of it would circulate near the fighting and pay for the armies' wages and provisions there and in neighboring countries. But whatever amount Great Britain used for this purpose each year had to be bought each year with British goods, or with something bought with those goods. This brings us back to goods—the yearly produce of the country's land and labor—as the ultimate resources that allowed us to fight the war. Such a large yearly expense must surely have come from a large yearly output. Spending in 1761, for example, was more than £19,000,000. No savings could have supported annual spending on that scale. Not even the annual production of gold and silver could have supported it. According to the best accounts, all the gold and silver imported each year into Spain and Portugal combined does not usually amount to much more than £6,000,000 sterling. In some years, that would scarcely have paid for four months of the last war.
The goods best suited to shipping long distances to buy an army's pay and provisions, or to buy the international money used for that purpose, seem to be highly finished manufactures. They pack great value into little space and can therefore be shipped far at low cost. A country that produces a large annual surplus of these goods, normally exported, can fight a very expensive war abroad for years without exporting much gold and silver—or even having much to export. In that case, a substantial share of its yearly manufacturing surplus must leave without bringing goods back to the country, though the merchant receives payment. The government buys the merchant's bills payable abroad to fund the army there. Some of the surplus may still bring goods back. During the war, manufacturers face two sources of demand. They must make goods for export to cover the foreign bills drawn to pay and supply the army. They must also make goods to buy the usual imports consumed at home. Thus much manufacturing can thrive even in a terribly destructive foreign war, and decline when peace returns. It can thrive while the country is being ruined and start to weaken when the country becomes prosperous again. The different fortunes of many British manufacturing industries during the last war and for some time after peace illustrate this point.
A long or expensive foreign war could not easily be funded by exporting unprocessed farm produce. Shipping enough of it abroad to buy an army's pay and provisions would cost too much. Few countries produce much more raw produce than their people need to live on. Exporting a large amount would therefore export some of their necessary food. Manufactured goods are different: the workers' support stays at home, and only the surplus of their work goes abroad. Mr Hume often points out that England's early kings could not sustain a long foreign war without interruption. In those days the English had nothing with which to buy their armies' pay and provisions abroad except raw farm produce, little of which could be spared from domestic use, and a few coarse manufactures. Both cost too much to transport. The problem was not a lack of money but a lack of more highly finished manufactured goods. People bought and sold with money in England then, as they do now. The amount of circulating money must have stood in the same proportion to the number and value of transactions then as it does now. In fact, it must have been a larger proportion, since paper money did not yet perform much of the work now done in place of gold and silver. In nations with little trade or manufacturing, a ruler can seldom get much extraordinary help from his subjects, for reasons I will explain later. In these countries, he therefore generally tries to save up treasure as his only resource in an emergency. Even apart from that need, his circumstances incline him to the thrift that saving requires. In that simpler society, even a ruler's spending goes not on the flashy finery of a court, but on generosity to his tenants and hospitality to his followers. Generosity and hospitality seldom lead to extravagance, while vanity almost always does. Every Tartar chief accordingly has treasure. Mazepa, chief of the Cossacks in the Ukraine and famous ally of Charles XII., was said to have vast treasure. All the French kings of the Merovingian race had treasures; when they divided their kingdom among their children, they divided the treasures as well. Saxon rulers and the first kings after the Conquest also seem to have saved treasure. The first act of a new reign was commonly to seize the preceding king's treasure, an essential step in securing succession. Rulers of developed trading countries need not save treasure in the same way: they can generally get extraordinary contributions from their subjects when needed. They are also less inclined to save. Naturally, perhaps unavoidably, they follow the fashion of their time. Their spending is governed by the same extravagant vanity as the spending of other great landowners in their lands. The pointless show of their courts grows brighter every day. Its cost not only prevents saving but often takes money meant for more necessary expenses. What Dercyllidas said of the Persian court could describe several European rulers' courts: he saw 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
A country gains far more from foreign trade than imported gold and silver. Wherever foreign trade takes place, all the places involved gain two distinct benefits. Each can send out the surplus of its land and labor that its own people do not want and bring back something they do want. Trade gives value to excess goods by exchanging them for things that meet people's needs and add to their enjoyment. It also keeps a small home market from limiting how far the division of labor can develop in any craft or manufacture. A wider market for goods beyond what people can use at home encourages producers to improve their ability to produce and raise yearly output as far as possible. This increases society's real revenue and wealth. Foreign trade constantly provides these major benefits to all countries involved. All gain greatly, though the merchant's own country generally gains most, since he usually does more to supply its needs and export its surplus than he does for any other particular country. Foreign trade does, of course, bring needed gold and silver to countries without mines. But this is a tiny part of its business. A country trading abroad for that reason alone would scarcely need to load a ship once in a century.
Europe was not enriched by the discovery of America because it imported gold and silver. The American mines made those metals cheaper. A set of plate now costs about a third as much corn or labor as it did in the fifteenth century. With the same yearly spending on labor and goods, Europe can buy about three times as much plate each year as it could then. But when a good falls to a third of its usual price, previous buyers can buy three times as much, and many more people can afford it—perhaps more than ten or twenty times as many. So Europe may now have not just three times but 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. That is a real convenience, though a very small one. Cheaper gold and silver are somewhat less useful as money than before. To buy the same things, we have to carry more metal: a shilling in our pocket where a groat once sufficed. It is hard to say whether that inconvenience or the corresponding convenience is less important. Neither could have made a major difference to Europe. Yet the discovery of America did make a major difference. It opened a new and seemingly unlimited market for European goods. This led to new divisions of labor and improvements in crafts that could not have developed within the narrow old trading market, which could not have taken most of their output. Labor became more productive and produced more throughout Europe. Its people's real revenue and wealth rose too. Almost all European goods were new to America, and many American goods were new to Europe. New kinds of exchange began that nobody had previously imagined. These should naturally have benefited the new continent as much as they certainly benefited the old one. The Europeans' savage injustice turned what should have benefited everyone into disaster and destruction for several of those unfortunate countries.
The route to the East Indies around the Cape of Good Hope was discovered at roughly the same time. Despite the greater distance, it may have opened a wider field for foreign trade than America did. Only two nations in America were in any way more advanced than the peoples called savages, and both were destroyed almost as soon as they were discovered. The rest were regarded as savages. But China, Indostan, Japan, and several other East Indian empires were far richer in every respect except gold and silver mines than Mexico or Peru. Their lands were better cultivated, and their crafts and manufactures more developed. That remains true even if we believe the Spanish writers' exaggerated accounts of the ancient condition of Mexico and Peru, though those accounts plainly do not deserve belief. Rich, developed nations can always exchange far more with each other than with peoples they call savages and barbarians. Still, Europe has so far benefited much less from trade with the East Indies than from trade with America. The Portuguese kept the East India trade to themselves for about a century. Other Europeans could send or receive goods from there only indirectly through Portugal. When the Dutch began to challenge the Portuguese early in the last century, they put all their East India trade in the hands of an exclusive company. The English, French, Swedes, and Danes did the same. As a result, no major European nation has yet enjoyed free trade with the East Indies. This alone explains why that trade has brought less benefit than trade with America. Trade between nearly every European country and its own American colonies is open to all its subjects. The East India companies' exclusive rights and vast wealth have won them strong government favor and protection, and have also made them widely envied. Their critics often call their trade entirely harmful because it sends so much silver out of the trading countries every year. The companies answer that this constant export of silver might impoverish Europe as a whole, but not the particular country carrying on the trade. They say they sell some of the goods brought back to other European countries and thus bring home much more silver each year than they send out. Both sides rely on the common belief I have just examined, so I need say no more about their arguments. Annual silver exports to the East Indies probably make plate a little more expensive in Europe than it otherwise would be. Silver coins probably also buy a little more labor and goods. The first effect is a very small loss and the second a very small gain. Neither deserves public attention. East Indian trade opens a market for European goods, or almost equivalently for the gold and silver bought with those goods. It must therefore tend to increase Europe's yearly production of goods, and hence its real wealth and revenue. If it has increased them so little until now, the restrictions placed on it everywhere are probably to blame.
At the risk of being tedious, I felt it necessary to examine fully the common belief that wealth consists of money, or gold and silver. As I have noted, people often use the word money to mean wealth. That ambiguity makes the belief so familiar that even people who know it is absurd often forget their own principles and assume in their arguments that it is an undeniable truth. Some of the best English writers on trade begin by saying that a country's wealth includes not just gold and silver but land, houses, and all kinds of goods people can use. As they continue, however, they seem to forget the land, houses, and goods. Their arguments often assume that gold and silver are all the wealth there is, and that increasing their quantity is the main goal of a country's industry and trade.
Once two claims were accepted—that wealth consists of gold and silver, and that a country without mines can obtain them only by a favorable balance of trade, exporting goods worth more than it imports—the chief goal of political economy became clear. It was to cut imports for domestic use as much as possible and raise exports of domestically produced goods as much as possible. Its two main tools for enriching the country were import restrictions and export incentives.
There were two kinds of import restrictions.
First were restrictions on imports for home use that could be produced at home, no matter which country supplied them.
Second were restrictions on nearly all kinds of goods from particular countries with which the balance of trade was thought unfavorable.
These restrictions sometimes took the form of high duties and sometimes outright bans.
Exports were encouraged through drawbacks, bounties, favorable trade treaties with foreign states, and the establishment of colonies far away.
Drawbacks were paid in two situations. When domestic manufactures were subject to a duty or excise, exporters were often refunded all or part of it. When imported foreign goods subject to duty were exported again, exporters were sometimes refunded all or part of that duty too.
Bounties were paid to encourage either new manufacturing industries or other kinds of industry thought to deserve special support.
Favorable trade treaties obtained special rights in a foreign state for a country's goods and merchants, beyond those given to other countries.
Establishing distant colonies often secured not just special rights but a monopoly for the goods and merchants of the country that established them.
The two kinds of import restrictions and four export incentives are the six main ways the commercial system seeks to increase a country's gold and silver by turning the balance of trade in its favor. I will discuss each in its own chapter. Rather than dwell further on whether they bring money into the country, I will chiefly examine their likely effects on the yearly produce of its industry. To the extent that they raise or lower the value of that output, they must raise or lower 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
On Restrictions on Imports from Foreign Countries of Goods That Can Be Produced at Home
High duties or outright bans on imports that can be produced at home give domestic producers some or all of the home market to themselves. For example, the ban on importing live cattle and salted meat gives Great Britain's graziers a monopoly on meat sold at home. High duties on imported corn have the same effect for corn growers: when the harvest is moderately plentiful, those duties amount to a ban. The ban on imported foreign woolen goods similarly benefits woolen manufacturers. Silk manufacturers have recently gained the same advantage, although all their raw materials come from abroad. Linen manufacturers have not gained it yet, but are making great strides toward it. Many other British industries have likewise obtained a full or nearly full monopoly against their fellow citizens. Anyone unfamiliar with customs laws would hardly guess how many kinds of goods are barred from entry into Great Britain, either entirely or under certain conditions.
Such a monopoly of the home market often strongly encourages the industry that receives it. It also often draws more of society's labor and stock into that industry than would otherwise go there. That much is beyond doubt. Whether it increases society's overall industry, or steers it in the most useful direction, is much less clear.
Society's total industry can never exceed what its capital can employ. The number of workers any one person can keep employed has a certain relationship to his capital. Likewise, the number all the members of a large society can keep employed has a certain relationship to society's total capital, and cannot exceed it. No trade regulation can raise the amount of work in a society above what its capital can support. It can only shift some of that work into a line it might not otherwise have entered. There is no reason to assume that this artificial choice is better for society than the choice it would have made on its own.
Each person continually tries to find the most profitable use for the capital he controls. He has his own benefit in mind, not society's. But pursuing his own benefit naturally, indeed necessarily, leads him to prefer a use that is most beneficial to society.
First, each person tries to use his capital as close to home as possible, and thus to support domestic industry as much as possible, so long as he can earn the ordinary profit on stock, or not much less.
For example, when profits are equal or almost equal, a wholesale merchant naturally prefers domestic trade to foreign trade supplying goods for home consumption, and prefers that foreign trade to carrying goods between foreign countries. In domestic trade his capital is never out of his sight as long as it often is in foreign trade. He knows more about the people he extends credit to and their circumstances. If they deceive him, he knows more about the laws under which he can seek compensation. In the carrying trade, by contrast, his capital is split between two foreign countries. None of it has to come home or remain within his direct supervision and control. An Amsterdam merchant carrying corn from Koningsberg to Lisbon and fruit and wine from Lisbon to Koningsberg generally has half his capital in Koningsberg and half in Lisbon. None need ever reach Amsterdam. Such a merchant would naturally live in Koningsberg or Lisbon; only unusual circumstances could make him choose Amsterdam instead. Yet the discomfort of being so far from his capital usually makes him bring some of the Koningsberg goods meant for Lisbon, and some of the Lisbon goods meant for Koningsberg, through Amsterdam. This involves loading and unloading twice and paying some extra duties and customs charges. He willingly bears those costs so that some capital is always within his sight and control. This is how every country with a substantial carrying trade becomes an emporium, a common marketplace for the goods of all the countries whose trade it carries. To avoid the second loading and unloading, the merchant tries to sell at home as many of those foreign goods as possible. As far as he can, he turns his carrying trade into foreign trade supplying domestic consumers. Likewise, a merchant collecting goods to export to foreign consumers is glad to sell as much as possible at home if the profits are equal or nearly equal. He avoids the risk and trouble of export by turning that part of his foreign trade into domestic trade. Home is thus the center around which a country's capital is always circulating and toward which it tends, even if particular causes sometimes push it into more distant uses. As already shown, an equal amount of capital employed in domestic trade sets more domestic industry in motion, and provides income and jobs for more local people, than capital employed in foreign trade supplying domestic consumers. That foreign trade has the same advantage over carrying trade. So, where profits are equal or nearly equal, people naturally use their capital in the way most likely to support domestic industry and provide income and work to the greatest number of their fellow citizens.
Second, anyone who uses capital to support domestic industry necessarily tries to direct it toward producing goods of the greatest possible value.
The output of an industry is the value it adds to the materials it works on. The employer's profits rise or fall with the value of that output. Profit is the only reason anyone invests capital in an industry. He will therefore always try to support the industry whose output is likely to have the greatest value, or can be exchanged for the most money or other goods.
But society's yearly revenue is exactly equal to the exchangeable value of its industry's total yearly output; indeed, the two are the same thing. Each person tries both to use capital in support of domestic industry and to direct that industry toward the most valuable output. Each therefore works to make society's yearly revenue as large as possible. Usually, he neither intends to serve the public interest nor knows how much he is serving it. He supports domestic rather than foreign industry only to protect himself. He directs industry toward the most valuable output only for his own gain. In this and many other cases, an invisible hand leads him to serve an end he never meant to serve. Society is not necessarily worse off because he did not intend it. By pursuing his own interest, he often serves society's interests better than when he actually sets out to do so. I have never seen much good come from people who pretend to trade for the public good. That pretense is not common among merchants, and little needs to be said to discourage it.
A person in his own location can clearly judge much better than a statesman or lawmaker which domestic industry he should invest in and which will produce the most valuable goods. A statesman who tried to tell private people how to use their capital would take on a needless burden. He would also claim a power that cannot safely be entrusted to any one person, or even to any council or senate. That power would be most dangerous in the hands of someone foolish and arrogant enough to think himself fit to exercise it.
Giving the domestic output of a particular craft or industry a monopoly on the home market amounts to directing how private people use their capital. In almost every case, this rule must be either pointless or harmful. If domestic producers can supply the goods as cheaply as foreign producers, the rule is plainly pointless. If they cannot, it is generally harmful. A sensible household head never tries to make something at home if making it costs more than buying it. A tailor buys shoes from a shoemaker rather than making his own. A shoemaker hires a tailor instead of making his own clothes. A farmer makes neither shoes nor clothes, but employs those skilled workers. All find it best to devote their work to what they do better than their neighbors. They use part of their output, or the money they receive for it, to buy whatever else they need.
What is sensible for each household can hardly be foolish for a large kingdom. If a foreign country can supply a good more cheaply than we can make it, we should buy it with part of the output of an industry in which we have an advantage. This does not reduce the country's total industry, which always depends on the capital employing it, any more than buying from one another reduces those workers' industry. It simply lets that industry find its most advantageous use. It is certainly not put to its best use when it is forced to make something it could buy for less. Its yearly output loses some value when labor and capital are turned away from goods worth more than the ones they are made to produce. By assumption, the latter goods cost less to buy abroad than to make at home. They could therefore be bought with only part of the goods, or part of the proceeds from those goods, that the same capital would have produced at home if allowed to follow its natural course. Thus the country's industry moves from a more profitable to a less profitable use. Instead of increasing the exchangeable value of its yearly output as the lawmaker intends, each such rule must reduce it.
These rules may indeed sometimes allow a particular manufacturing industry to develop sooner than it otherwise would. After a time, it might make its goods at home as cheaply as, or more cheaply than, foreign producers. But even if society's industry can be steered early into a particular line with good results in that line, it does not follow that a rule can ever increase society's total industry or revenue. Industry grows only as capital grows, and capital grows only as people gradually save from their revenue. The immediate effect of any such rule is to reduce revenue. Reducing revenue is certainly unlikely to make capital grow faster than it would if capital and industry had been free to find their own uses.
Even if, without these rules, society never developed the proposed manufacturing industry, it would not necessarily be poorer at any point. Its entire capital and labor could still have been used elsewhere in the most advantageous way available at the time. In every period its revenue could have been as large as its capital allowed, and both revenue and capital could have grown as quickly as possible.
Sometimes one country has such great natural advantages in making particular goods that everyone agrees it is pointless to compete. Scotland can grow very good grapes in greenhouses, hotbeds, and against heated walls, and make very good wine from them. But doing so costs about thirty times as much as importing wine at least as good. Would it make sense to ban all foreign wine just to encourage Scottish claret and Burgundy? It is plainly absurd to devote thirty times as much national capital and labor to making goods as it would take to buy the same amount abroad. Devoting a thirtieth or even a three hundredth part more is absurd in exactly the same way, if less obviously. It makes no difference here whether one country's advantage is natural or acquired. As long as one country has an advantage the other lacks, the latter will do better to buy from the former than to make the goods itself. One worker's advantage over a neighbor in a different trade is acquired, not natural. Yet both do better buying from each other than trying to make goods outside their own 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 benefit most from this monopoly of the home market. The ban on importing foreign cattle and salted food, along with high duties on foreign corn that amount to a ban when supplies are moderately plentiful, helps Great Britain's graziers and farmers much less than similar rules help its merchants and manufacturers. Manufactured goods, especially finer ones, are easier to transport between countries than corn or cattle. Foreign trade therefore mainly involves carrying manufactured goods. With manufactured goods, even a small advantage lets foreigners sell for less than our workers, even in our home market. They would need a very large advantage to do the same with raw farm produce. If foreign manufactured goods could be imported freely, several domestic industries would probably suffer, and some might collapse entirely. Much of the stock and industry now employed in them would have to find other work. But even completely free imports of raw farm produce could not have that effect on the country's agriculture.
For example, however freely foreign cattle could be imported, so few would come in that British grazing would be little affected. Live cattle may be the only commodity more expensive to transport by sea than by land. On land they walk themselves to market. At sea, their food and water must also be carried, at considerable cost and inconvenience. The short crossing between Ireland and Great Britain does make importing Irish cattle easier. But even if the recently permitted imports, allowed only for a limited time, were made permanent, British graziers would not be significantly affected. The British regions bordering the Irish Sea are all grazing regions. Irish cattle could not be imported for use there. They would have to be driven through those extensive regions, at considerable cost and inconvenience, before reaching the right market. Fat cattle could not be driven so far. Only lean cattle could therefore be imported. Such imports would not hurt regions that feed and fatten cattle. By lowering the price of lean cattle, they would actually help those regions. Only regions that breed cattle might be affected. Since imports were permitted, few Irish cattle have been imported, and lean cattle still sell at a good price. This seems to show that even Britain's cattle-breeding regions are unlikely to suffer much from free imports of Irish cattle. Ordinary people in Ireland are said to have sometimes violently opposed the export of their cattle. But if exporters had found much profit in continuing the trade, they could easily have overcome this mob opposition with the law on their side.
Regions that feed and fatten cattle must also always be highly improved, while breeding regions are generally uncultivated. A high price for lean cattle raises the value of uncultivated land and acts like a bounty against improvement. A country that was highly improved everywhere would do better to import lean cattle than breed them. The province of Holland is said to follow this rule now. The mountains of Scotland, Wales, and Northumberland, however, cannot be improved much. Nature seems to have made them Britain's cattle-breeding regions. Completely free imports of foreign cattle would merely prevent those regions from exploiting the growing population and improvement of the rest of the kingdom. They could not raise their prices excessively and effectively tax all the more developed and cultivated regions.
Likewise, completely free imports of salted food would affect British graziers as little as imports of live cattle. Salted food is bulky. Compared with fresh meat, it is also worse in quality and more expensive because it takes more labor and expense to prepare. It could never compete with fresh meat, though it could compete with domestically produced salted food. It could provision ships on long voyages and serve similar purposes, but could never make up much of the people's diet. Since imports were freed, only a small amount of salted food has come from Ireland. This is practical proof that our graziers have nothing to fear. Its imports do not appear ever to have noticeably affected the price of butcher's meat.
Even free imports of foreign corn would hardly affect British farmers. Corn 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. Even during the worst shortages, little foreign corn is imported. This should assure our farmers that completely free imports pose no threat. 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. That is no more than one five hundred and seventy-first of annual consumption. The bounty on corn causes more exports in plentiful years. It must therefore also cause more imports in scarce years than would otherwise occur at the present level of cultivation. Because of the bounty, one year's abundance does not make up for another year's shortage. It necessarily raises average exports and, at the present level of cultivation, must also raise average imports. Without the bounty, less corn would be exported. Probably less would also be imported from year to year than is imported now. Corn merchants, who transport corn between Great Britain and other countries, would have much less business and could suffer considerably. But landowners and farmers would suffer very little. Accordingly, I have seen the most concern for renewing and continuing the bounty among corn merchants rather than landowners and farmers.
To their great credit, landowners and farmers are less prone to the miserable spirit of monopoly than anyone else. The owner of a large factory is sometimes alarmed if a similar business opens within twenty miles. The Dutch operator of the woolen manufacture at Abbeville demanded that no similar business be set up within thirty leagues of the city. Farmers and landowners, by contrast, generally want to encourage their neighbors to cultivate and improve their farms and estates, not stop them. Unlike most manufacturers, they have no secrets. They usually like sharing a useful new practice with neighbors and spreading it as widely as possible. Old Cato says farming is “a respectable way to earn a living, the most secure and the least resented; those engaged in it are the least likely to think ill of others.” Landowners and farmers are spread around the country and cannot join forces as easily as merchants and manufacturers. The latter gather in towns and grow used to the exclusive spirit of the corporations there. They naturally try to win against all their countrymen the same exclusive privilege they usually have against the other inhabitants of their own towns. They seem to have invented the original restrictions on foreign imports that give them a monopoly of the home market. British landowners and farmers probably imitated them to put themselves on an equal footing with people they saw as intent on oppressing them. In doing so, they forgot the generosity natural to their position and demanded the exclusive right to supply their countrymen with corn and butcher's meat. Perhaps they did not stop to consider that free trade could harm their interests far less than those of the people they followed.
A permanent ban on importing foreign corn and cattle is effectively a law that the country's population and industry must never grow beyond what its own raw farm produce can support.
There are, however, two situations in which placing some burden on foreign industry to encourage domestic industry will generally be useful.
The first is when a particular industry is needed to defend the country. The defense of Great Britain, for instance, depends heavily on its number of sailors and ships. The act of navigation therefore rightly tries to give British sailors and ships a monopoly of their country's trade. In some cases it does this through outright bans and in others through heavy charges on foreign ships. These are the act's main provisions.
First, Ships whose owners, masters, and three-fourths of their sailors are not British subjects may not trade with British settlements and plantations or carry goods along the British coast. The penalty is forfeiture of the ship and cargo.
Secondly, many of the bulkiest imported goods may enter Great Britain only in ships of the British kind just described or in ships from the country that produced the goods. In the latter case, the owners, masters, and three-fourths of the sailors must belong to that country. Even goods brought in by those ships pay double aliens duty. Goods brought in ships of any other country cause the ship and goods to be forfeited. When the act was passed, the Dutch were, as they still are, Europe's major carriers. This rule excluded them entirely from carrying goods to Great Britain or bringing us goods from any other European country.
Thirdly, many of the bulkiest imported goods cannot be brought in from anywhere but their country of production, even in British ships. Otherwise the ship and cargo are forfeited. This rule too was probably aimed at the Dutch. Holland was then, as it is now, the main trading center for all European goods. The rule kept British ships from loading other European countries' goods in Holland.
Fourthly, any salt fish, whale fins, whalebone, oil, and blubber not caught and cured aboard British vessels pay double aliens duty when imported into Great Britain. The Dutch are still the chief European fishers supplying other nations. At the time they were the only ones trying to do so. This rule put a very heavy burden on their supplies to Great Britain.
When the act of navigation was passed, England and Holland were not at war, but the two nations deeply hated each other. The hostility had begun under the long parliament, which first drafted the act. It soon led to the Dutch wars during the governments of the Protector and Charles II. Some provisions of this famous act may therefore have grown out of national hostility. Still, they are as wise as if careful thought had produced every one. At that time, national hostility sought exactly what careful thinking would have advised: reducing the naval power of Holland, the only naval power that could threaten England's security.
The act of navigation does not help foreign commerce or the wealth it can produce. In dealing with other nations, a nation's interest is like a merchant's interest in dealing with other people: buy as cheaply and sell as dearly as possible. The best way to buy cheaply is to allow fully free trade, encouraging every nation to bring the goods it needs to buy. For the same reason, it is most likely to sell dearly when its markets attract the most buyers. The act of navigation does not charge foreign ships that come to export the products of British industry. Later acts have even removed the old aliens duty on most exported goods. That duty used to be paid on all goods, exported as well as imported. But when bans or high duties keep foreigners from coming to sell, they cannot always afford to come and buy. Arriving without cargo would mean losing the freight earnings on the voyage from their country to Great Britain. Reducing the number of sellers therefore also reduces the number of buyers. We are likely to pay more for foreign goods and receive less for our own than we would under freer trade. But defense matters much more than wealth. The act of navigation may therefore be the wisest of all England's commercial regulations.
The second situation in which a burden on foreign industry generally helps domestic industry arises when the domestic industry's products are taxed at home. It then seems reasonable to put an equal tax on similar foreign goods. This would not give domestic industry a monopoly of the home market. Nor would it draw more of the country's stock and labor into that industry than would go there naturally. It would merely keep the domestic tax from pushing some of that stock and labor away into less natural uses. Competition between domestic and foreign industry would remain as nearly as possible on the same terms as before the tax. In Great Britain, however, when domestically produced goods are taxed, a much heavier duty is usually placed on all imports of the same kind. This is meant to silence the loud complaints of our merchants and manufacturers that foreign competitors will undersell them at home.
Some people say this second limit on free trade should usually go much further than the particular foreign goods that compete with the taxed domestic goods. When a country taxes necessities, they argue, it should tax not only similar imported necessities but every kind of foreign good that competes with any domestic product. Such taxes, they say, necessarily make it more expensive to live. Wages must rise along with the cost of workers' subsistence. Consequently, every domestically produced commodity becomes more expensive even if it is not taxed directly, because the labor that produces it costs more. They say taxes on necessities are therefore effectively taxes on every particular product made at home. To put domestic and foreign industry on the same terms, they think every competing foreign good must bear a duty equal to this increase in the price of its domestic counterpart.
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
I will consider later, when discussing taxes, whether taxes on necessities such as soap, salt, leather, candles, etc. in Great Britain necessarily raise wages and therefore the prices of all other goods. For now, suppose they do have this effect, as they undoubtedly do. A general rise in the prices of all goods caused by higher labor costs differs in two ways from a rise in the price of one particular good caused by a tax on that good.
First, we could always know quite precisely how much a direct tax raises the price of a particular good. But we could never know with reasonable precision how much a general rise in wages raises the price of each different good produced with labor. So we could not set the tax on every foreign good to match, with reasonable precision, the increased price of every domestic good.
Secondly, taxes on necessities affect people's circumstances much like poor soil and a bad climate. They make food more expensive, just as if producing it required extra labor and expense. It would be absurd to tell people how to use their stock and industry when poor soil and climate create a natural shortage. It is equally absurd when such taxes create an artificial shortage. In both cases, people clearly do best when left to adapt their industry to their circumstances as well as they can. They can find work in which they have some advantage at home or abroad despite their unfavorable conditions. They already face excessive taxes and pay too much for life's necessities. Putting another tax on them, so that they must also pay too much for most other goods, is certainly a ridiculous way to compensate them.
When these taxes rise high enough, they are as great a curse as barren land and harsh weather. Yet they have generally been imposed most in the richest and most industrious countries. No others could bear such a serious problem. Only the strongest bodies can stay alive and healthy on an unhealthy diet. Likewise, only nations with the greatest natural and acquired advantages in every kind of industry can survive and prosper under such taxes. Holland has more of these taxes than any other European country. Its special circumstances let it keep prospering, not because of these taxes, as some have absurdly claimed, but despite them.
There are two cases in which a burden on foreign goods will generally help domestic industry. There are also two others that sometimes call for careful judgment. In one, the question is whether to continue allowing certain foreign goods to be imported freely. In the other, it is how far, and in what way, to restore free imports after they have been restricted for some time.
The first question may arise when another nation uses high duties or bans to restrict some of our manufactured goods from entering its market. The natural response is to seek revenge by placing similar duties or bans on some or all of its manufactured goods entering ours. Nations rarely fail to retaliate this way. The French have been especially eager to protect their manufacturers by restricting imports that might compete with them. Much of Mr Colbert's policy did this. Despite his great abilities, he seems here to have been misled by the deceptive arguments of merchants and manufacturers who always demand a monopoly against their own countrymen. The most knowledgeable people in France now think these measures did not benefit their country. By the tariff of 1667, Colbert put very high duties on many foreign manufactured goods. He refused to lower them for the Dutch. In 1671, the Dutch responded by banning imports of French wines, brandies, and manufactured goods. This trade dispute seems partly to have caused the war of 1672. The peace of Nimeguen ended it in 1678 by lowering some French duties for the Dutch, who then lifted their ban. Around the same time, the French and English began to harm each other's industries with similar duties and bans. The French seem to have acted first. Since then, continued hostility between the nations has prevented either side from easing its restrictions. In 1697, the English banned imports of bone lace made in Flanders. Its government, then under Spanish rule, responded by banning English woolens. In 1700, England lifted its ban on imported bone lace on condition that English woolens could enter Flanders under the previous terms.
Such retaliation can be sensible policy if it is likely to get the offending high duties or bans removed. Regaining a large foreign market will generally more than make up for the temporary inconvenience of paying more for some goods for a short time. Deciding whether retaliation is likely to work may belong less to a legislator, who should follow stable general principles, than to the skill of the sneaky, crafty creature commonly called a statesman or politician. Such a person's advice follows the passing changes in public affairs. When there is no prospect of getting the restrictions lifted, it is a bad way to compensate some of our people for an injury to inflict another injury ourselves. That new injury affects both those same people and almost everyone else. When our neighbors ban one of our manufactured goods, we generally ban not only the corresponding good of theirs, which alone would seldom hurt them much, but some other good of theirs as well. This can encourage one particular group of our workers. By shutting out some competitors, it may let them raise prices at home. But our ban will not help the workers hurt by our neighbors' ban. Instead, those workers and almost every other group of citizens will have to pay more than before for certain goods. Each such law thus imposes a real tax on the whole country. It benefits not the workers injured by our neighbors' restrictions but a different group.
The second question concerns how far and in what way to restore free imports after a period of restriction. It arises when high duties or bans on all competing foreign goods have allowed particular manufacturing industries to grow until they employ a great many people. In that case, concern for people may require restoring free trade slowly, carefully, and with some restraint. If the high duties and bans disappeared all at once, cheaper foreign goods of the same kind might flood the home market. Many thousands of our people could suddenly lose their usual jobs and means of support. The resulting disruption could certainly be considerable. It would probably be much smaller than commonly imagined, however, for two reasons.
First, fully free imports could do very little harm to manufacturing industries that already export some of their goods to other European countries without a bounty. Their goods must sell abroad as cheaply as similar foreign goods of the same quality and kind. They must therefore sell even more cheaply at home. They would keep their home market. A fashionable person might occasionally prefer foreign goods solely because they are foreign, even over cheaper and better domestic ones. But so few people would act this foolishly that it could not noticeably affect overall employment. A large share of our various woolen goods, tanned leather, and hardware is exported each year to other European countries without a bounty. These are the industries employing the most people. Silk might suffer most from free trade, followed by linen, though linen would suffer much less.
Secondly, even if restoring free trade suddenly cost many people their usual jobs and ways of earning a living, it would not follow that they would lose all work and support. When the army and navy were reduced at the end of the late war, more than 100,000 soldiers and sailors lost their usual jobs at once. That number equals the workforce of the largest manufacturing industries. They certainly faced some difficulty, but they did not lose every way of working and supporting themselves. Most sailors probably moved gradually into merchant shipping as opportunities appeared. Meanwhile, both sailors and soldiers joined the general population and worked in many different occupations. This change in the circumstances of more than 100,000 men caused no great upheaval or even noticeable disorder. All were used to weapons, and many were used to theft and looting. Hardly anywhere did the number of people wandering without work noticeably increase. As far as I can tell, wages fell in no occupation except among sailors in merchant shipping. Compare a soldier's habits with those of any manufacturing worker. The worker's habits make it less difficult for him to enter a new trade than the soldier's make it for him to take up any trade. A manufacturing worker has always relied on his own work for a living, while a soldier expects his pay. The worker knows steady effort and industry; the soldier, idleness and wasteful living. Surely it is much easier to redirect industry from one kind of work to another than to turn idleness and wasteful living into work. Also, as noted already, most manufacturing industries have related industries so similar that workers can easily move between them. Most such workers sometimes do farm work as well. The stock that employed them in one manufacturing industry will stay in the country and employ an equal number of people in another way. If the country's capital stays the same, demand for labor will also stay the same, or very nearly so, even if it shifts to different places and occupations. Soldiers and sailors discharged from the king's service are free to take up any trade in any town or place in Great Britain or Ireland. Give all his Majesty's subjects the same natural freedom to choose their work. End corporations' exclusive privileges and repeal the statute of apprenticeship; both infringe natural liberty. Repeal the law of settlements too, so a poor worker who loses work in one trade or place can seek it in another without fearing prosecution or forced removal. Then neither the public nor individuals will suffer much more from the occasional loss of jobs in one manufacturing industry than from the discharge of soldiers. Our manufacturers have certainly served their country well, but not better than those who defend it with their blood. They do not deserve gentler treatment.
Expecting free trade ever to be fully restored in Great Britain is as unreasonable as expecting an Oceana or Utopia to be established there. Public prejudice opposes it, but the private interests of many people are an even stronger obstacle. Imagine army officers opposing reductions in troop numbers as eagerly and unanimously as master manufacturers oppose any law likely to increase their domestic rivals. Imagine the officers stirring up their soldiers, as manufacturers stir up their workers, to attack proponents of such measures with violence and abuse. Cutting the army would then be as dangerous as trying now to reduce any part of the monopoly our manufacturers hold against us. That monopoly has swelled the numbers of some groups of manufacturers so much that they resemble an oversized standing army. They have become a threat to the government and often intimidate the legislature. A member of parliament who backs every proposal to strengthen their monopoly is sure to gain a reputation for understanding trade. He also gains great popularity and influence among a group whose numbers and wealth make it powerful. If he opposes them, especially if he has enough authority to obstruct them, even unquestioned honesty, the highest social rank, and the greatest public service cannot shield him. Furious, frustrated monopolists will subject him to disgraceful insults and slander, personal abuse, and sometimes actual danger.
The operator of a large manufacturing business would certainly suffer greatly if suddenly opening the home market to foreign competitors forced him to give it up. He could probably find another use without much difficulty for the part of his capital normally spent on materials and wages. But he could hardly sell the part tied up in workshops and equipment without considerable loss. Fairness to him therefore requires such changes to be introduced slowly and gradually, never suddenly, and with a very long warning. If legislators could always take a broad view of the public good rather than follow the loud demands of particular interests, they should be especially careful for this very reason not to create new monopolies of this kind or expand existing ones. Each such rule brings real disorder into the structure of the state. Later, curing it will be difficult without causing another disorder.
I will consider later, when discussing taxes, how far it may be proper to tax foreign imports to raise government revenue rather than prevent imports. Taxes meant to prevent or even reduce imports clearly 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 Restrictions on Imports of Nearly Every Kind of Good from Countries with Which the Balance of Trade Is Thought to Be Against Us.
Part I—Why These Restrictions Are Unreasonable Even by the Principles of the Commercial System.
The commercial system proposes a second way to increase the supply of gold and silver: put exceptional restrictions on imports of nearly every kind of good from particular countries with which the balance of trade is thought to be unfavorable. In Great Britain, for example, Silesia lawns can be imported for use at home if certain duties are paid. French cambrics and lawns, however, may be imported only through the port of London, where they must be stored for export. Wines from France face higher duties than wines from Portugal or any other country. Under what is called the impost 1692, all French goods faced a duty of five and-twenty per cent. of their assessed value. Most goods from other nations faced much lower duties, seldom above five per cent. French wine, brandy, salt, and vinegar were exceptions. Other laws or specific parts of the same law already imposed heavy duties on them. In 1696, because the first duty was not thought discouraging enough, all French goods except brandy faced a second duty of twenty-five per cent. A new duty of five-and-twenty pounds per ton was also imposed on French wine and another of fifteen pounds per ton on French vinegar. French goods have also been included in every general subsidy or duty of five per cent. imposed on all, or most, goods listed in the book of rates. Counting the one-third and two-third subsidies together as one full subsidy, there have been five general subsidies. So before the current war, seventy-five per cent. was about the lowest duty on most goods grown, produced, or manufactured in France. For most goods, these duties amount to a ban. In turn, I believe the French have treated our goods and manufactured products just as harshly, though I know less about their particular restrictions. These mutual restrictions have ended almost all lawful commerce between the two nations. Smugglers are now the main importers of British goods into France and French goods into Great Britain. The principles discussed in the previous chapter came from private interests and the desire for monopoly. Those discussed in this chapter come from national prejudice and hostility. As one might expect, they are even less reasonable. They are unreasonable even by the commercial system's own principles.
First, suppose free trade between France and England would certainly leave the balance of trade in France's favor. That would not mean the trade harmed England or made the overall balance of all its trade less favorable. If French wine is better and cheaper than Portuguese wine, or French linen better and cheaper than German linen, Great Britain gains by buying the foreign wine and linen it needs from France rather than Portugal and Germany. Annual imports from France would grow greatly in value. But total annual imports would fall in value to the extent that French goods of equal quality cost less than goods from the other two countries. This would hold even if all the imported French goods were consumed in Great Britain.
But, secondly, much of those goods could be exported again to other countries. Selling them there at a profit might bring back a return equal in value, perhaps, to the original cost of all the French goods imported. Something often said about the East India trade might also be true of French trade. Though most East India goods were bought with gold and silver, exporting some of them again to other countries brought back more gold and silver to the trading country than the original cost of all of them. Carrying French goods to other European countries is now one of the most important branches of Dutch trade. Even some of the French wine drunk in Great Britain is secretly imported from Holland and Zealand. England could share in this trade, which benefits Holland so much, if it traded freely with France. The same would be true if French goods could enter on paying only the duties charged to other European nations, with those duties refunded upon export.
Thirdly and lastly, no reliable test tells us which side has what is called a favorable balance of trade between two countries, or which country exports goods of greater value. National prejudice and hostility, always encouraged by the private interests of particular traders, usually shape our judgment on such questions. People have often used two tests: customs-house records and exchange rates. Customs-house records are now, I think, generally recognized as unreliable because most goods are valued inaccurately in them. Exchange rates may be nearly as unreliable.
When the exchange rate between London and Paris, for instance, is at par, people say this shows that debts owed from London to Paris are offset by debts owed from Paris to London. But when someone in London must pay a premium for a bill payable in Paris, people say this shows London's debts to Paris exceed Paris's debts to London. Money must be sent from London to settle the balance, and the premium is charged and paid to cover the risk, trouble, and expense of sending it. They say the usual pattern of debt and credit between these cities must reflect their usual trade with each other. When neither imports from the other more than it exports to the other, their debts and credits may balance. But when one imports from the other more than it exports there, it must owe the other more than the other owes it. Their debts and credits do not balance, and the city whose debts exceed its credits must send money out. Thus, people argue, the usual exchange rate indicates the usual state of debt and credit between two places. It must also show their usual exports and imports, which determine that state.
But even if the usual exchange rate reliably showed the usual state of debt and credit between two places, that would not mean trade favored the place whose debts and credits were in its favor. Their debts and credits do not always depend entirely on their trade with each other. They are often affected by trade between either place and many other places. Suppose English merchants normally pay for goods bought from Hamburg, Dantzic, Riga, etc. with bills payable in Holland. The usual debts and credits between England and Holland would then reflect not just trade between those two countries but also England's trade with those other places. England might have to send money to Holland every year, even if its annual exports to Holland were worth much more than its imports from there and the so-called balance of trade strongly favored England.
Besides, given the way the par of exchange has been calculated so far, the usual exchange rate cannot reliably show whether debts and credits actually favor the country whose exchange rate appears to be, or is believed to be, favorable. In other words, the real exchange rate can, and often does, differ so much from the calculated rate that the calculated rate frequently tells us nothing definite about the real one.
Suppose you pay in England a sum containing a certain number of ounces of pure silver according to the English mint's standard. In return you get a bill payable in France for a sum containing an equal number of ounces of pure silver according to the French mint's standard. People say exchange between England and France is then at par. If you pay more, they say you pay a premium, and exchange is against England and in France's favor. If you pay less, they say you receive a premium, and exchange is against France and in England's favor.
But first, the standards of different countries' mints do not always tell us the value of the coins actually in circulation. In some countries coins are more worn, clipped, or otherwise reduced below the standard than in others. The relative value of the coins in circulation depends on how much pure silver they actually contain, not how much they should contain. Before the reform of silver coins in King William's time, the exchange rate between England and Holland was calculated in the usual way from their mint standards. It was five-and twenty per cent. against England. But according to Mr Lowndes, English coins then had an actual value rather more than five-and-twenty per cent. below their standard value. So the real exchange rate may have favored England even then, although the calculated rate was so strongly against it. A smaller number of ounces of pure silver actually paid in England could have bought a bill payable in Holland for a larger number of ounces. The person thought to pay a premium might actually have received one. Before the recent reform of English gold coins, French coins were much less worn than English ones and perhaps two or three per cent. closer to their standard. So if the calculated rate against England in its exchanges with France was no more than two or three per cent., the real rate might have favored England. Since the gold coin reform, exchange has constantly favored England over France.
Secondly, in some countries the government pays for minting coins. In others, private people who bring bullion to the mint pay, and the government even collects revenue from minting. In England the government pays for it. If you bring a pound weight of standard silver to the mint, you receive sixty-two shillings containing a pound weight of silver of the same standard. In France, eight per cent. is deducted for minting. That covers the cost and gives the government a small revenue. In England, where minting costs the owner nothing, coins in circulation can never be worth much more than the bullion they actually contain. In France, the paid-for workmanship adds to their value, as workmanship adds to the value of worked silver plate. A sum of French coins with a given weight of pure silver is therefore worth more than a sum of English coins with the same weight of pure silver. Buying it must require more bullion or other goods. Even if circulating coins in both countries were equally close to their respective mint standards, English coins could hardly buy French coins containing the same number of ounces of pure silver. Nor could they buy a bill payable in France for that sum. If the extra money paid for such a bill merely covered the cost of French minting, the real exchange rate could be at par. The countries' debts and credits might offset one another even while the calculated rate considerably favored France. If the extra money paid were less than that cost, the real rate might favor England while the calculated rate 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, foreign bills of exchange are paid in what people call bank money in some places, including Amsterdam, Hamburg, and Venice. In other places, including London, Lisbon, Antwerp, and Leghorn, they are paid in the country's ordinary currency. Bank money is always worth more than the same stated amount of ordinary currency. For example, a thousand guilders held in the bank of Amsterdam are worth more than a thousand guilders in Amsterdam's ordinary currency. The difference is called the bank's agio. In Amsterdam it is usually about five per cent. Suppose the circulating money of two countries is equally close to each country's mint standard. One pays foreign bills in ordinary currency, while the other pays in bank money. The calculated exchange rate could then favor the country paying in bank money, even if the actual exchange rate favors the country paying in ordinary currency. The same thing happens when the calculated rate favors a country whose money is better, or closer to its mint standard, even though the actual rate favors a country with worse money. Before the recent reform of the gold coin, the calculated exchange rate generally ran against London in its dealings with Amsterdam, Hamburg, Venice, and, I believe, all other places that pay in bank money. That does not mean the actual exchange rate ran against London. Since the gold coin was reformed, the calculated rate has favored London even in dealings with those places. It has generally favored London in dealings with Lisbon, Antwerp, Leghorn, and, apart from France, I believe most other parts of Europe that pay in ordinary currency. It is quite possible that the actual rate also favored London.
A Digression on Deposit Banks, Especially the Bank of Amsterdam.
The circulating money of a large state such as France or England usually consists almost entirely of its own coins. If those coins become worn, clipped, or otherwise worth less than their official standard, the state can restore the value of its currency by reforming its coinage. A small state such as Genoa or Hamburg can rarely circulate only its own coins. Much of its circulating money must be coins from neighboring states with which its people regularly trade. Reforming its own coinage will therefore not always restore the value of all its circulating money. If foreign bills of exchange are paid in that currency, the uncertainty about what any given amount is worth will always push the exchange rate strongly against the small state. Other countries will necessarily value its currency at even less than it is worth.
To spare their merchants the trouble caused by such an unfavorable exchange rate, small states have often acted when they began taking an interest in trade. They required foreign bills of exchange above a certain value to be paid through an order on a particular bank or a transfer in its books, rather than in ordinary currency. The state backed and protected the bank. The bank was always required to pay in sound money matching the state's official standard exactly. The banks of Venice, Genoa, Amsterdam, Hamburg, and Nuremberg all seem to have been founded for this purpose, although some later served other purposes too. The money held in these banks was better than ordinary currency, so it necessarily carried an agio. The more the circulating currency was thought to have fallen below the state's standard, the higher the agio. For example, the agio of the bank of Hamburg is said to be usually about fourteen per cent. That is the estimated gap between the state's sound standard money and the clipped, worn, reduced coins flowing in from all its neighbors.
Before 1609, Amsterdam's extensive trade brought in so many clipped and worn foreign coins from across Europe that its circulating money fell about nine per cent. below the value of sound, newly minted money. Whenever sound money appeared, it was immediately melted down or taken away, as always happens in these conditions. Merchants had plenty of currency, but 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 became quite uncertain.
A bank was established in 1609 under the city's guarantee to solve these problems. It accepted foreign coins and the country's own light and worn coins at their actual metal value, measured in the country's sound standard money. It deducted only what was needed to cover coinage and other necessary operating costs. The bank entered the value remaining after that small deduction as a credit in its books. This credit was called bank money. Because it represented money matching the mint standard exactly, its actual value stayed the same, and it was worth more than circulating money. At the same time, a rule required all bills drawn on or traded in Amsterdam worth 600 guilders or more to be paid in bank money. This immediately removed any uncertainty about their value. Every merchant therefore had to keep a bank account to pay foreign bills of exchange. This created a steady demand for bank money.
Bank money has other advantages besides being worth more than ordinary currency and receiving extra value from this demand. It is safe from fire, robbery, and other accidents. The city of Amsterdam stands behind it. A simple transfer pays it to someone else without counting coins or taking the risk of moving them between places. These advantages seem to have given it an agio from the beginning. People generally believe that all the money originally deposited stayed in the bank. Nobody wanted repayment of a claim that could be sold at a premium in the market. By demanding payment from the bank, an account holder would lose that premium. A newly minted shilling buys no more in the market than an ordinary worn shilling. In the same way, sound money taken from the bank and put into private hands would mix with the ordinary currency and become no more valuable than it. People could no longer easily tell it apart. Its superior quality was known and verified while it remained in the bank. Once it was in private hands, verifying that quality could take more trouble than the difference in value was worth. Taking it out of the bank would also strip it of every other advantage of bank money: security, easy and safe transfers, and use in paying foreign bills of exchange. And, as we will see shortly, it could not be withdrawn without first paying a storage charge.
Deposits of coins that the bank was obliged to repay in coins made up its original capital. They accounted for the full value represented by bank money at first. People now think they make up only a very small part of it. For many years, to make bullion trading easier, the bank has entered credits in its books for deposits of gold and silver bullion. The credit is generally about five per cent. below the mint price of that bullion. The bank also issues what it calls a recipice, or receipt. This allows either the depositor or whoever holds the receipt to withdraw the bullion at any time within six months. To do so, the holder must transfer back to the bank an amount of bank money equal to the credit originally given for the deposit. The holder must also pay a storage charge of one-fourth per cent. for silver or one-half per cent. for gold. If the holder does not make those payments before the six months end, the deposit becomes the bank's property at the price at which the bank accepted it, the amount credited in its books. The storage charge can be thought of as warehouse rent. Several explanations have been offered for why this rent is so much higher for gold than for silver. Some say it is harder to determine the purity of gold than of silver. Fraud is easier and causes a greater loss with the more precious metal. Others say that because silver is the standard metal, the state wants to encourage silver deposits more than gold deposits.
People most often deposit bullion when its price is somewhat below normal, and withdraw it when the price rises. In Holland the market price of bullion is generally above the mint price, for the same reason this was true in England before the recent reform of the gold coin. The difference is said to be usually from about six to sixteen stivers per mark, or eight ounces of silver containing eleven parts fine silver and one part alloy. For deposits of this silver in foreign coins of known, verified purity, such as Mexico dollars, the bank gives credit at twenty-two guilders per mark. The mint price is about twenty-three guilders. 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] accepts bullion and different kinds of coins:
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
Silver bars containing 11-12ths fine silver: 21 Guilders / mark, decreasing in proportion down to 1-4th fine silver, for which the bank gives 5 guilders. 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
The bank accepts gold bars or ingots at prices based on their purity relative to the foreign gold coins listed above. It gives 340 per mark for fine bars. In general, though, it pays a little more for coins of known purity than for gold and silver bars. The purity of bars can be determined only by melting and testing them.
The relationship among the bank price, mint price, and market price of gold bullion is much the same. Someone can usually sell a receipt for the difference between bullion's mint price and market price. A bullion receipt is almost always worth something. People therefore very rarely let receipts expire and let the bank acquire their bullion at its original deposit price. They usually either withdraw it within six months or pay one-fourth or one-half per cent. for another six-month receipt. It is said that receipts do sometimes expire, though rarely, and more often for gold than for silver because storing the more precious metal costs more.
Someone who deposits bullion receives both a bank credit and a receipt. The depositor uses the credit to pay bills of exchange as they come due, and sells or keeps the receipt according to whether bullion prices seem likely to rise or fall. The receipt and credit rarely stay together for long, and they do not need to. A receipt holder who wants to withdraw bullion can always buy plenty of bank credits, or bank money, at the normal price. Someone with bank money who wants to withdraw bullion can likewise find plenty of receipts to buy.
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
Owners of bank credits and holders of receipts are two different kinds of people with claims on the bank. A receipt holder cannot withdraw the bullion covered by the receipt without returning to the bank the amount of bank money originally credited for that bullion. If the holder has no bank money, it must be bought from someone who does. A bank-money owner cannot withdraw bullion without showing receipts for the amount wanted. If the owner has none, they must be bought from someone who does. When a receipt holder buys bank money, the purchase brings the right to withdraw bullion whose mint price is five per cent. above its bank price. The five per cent. agio usually paid is therefore payment for real value, not imaginary value. When a bank-money owner buys a receipt, the purchase brings the right to withdraw bullion whose market price is usually from two to three per cent. above its mint price. The price of the receipt also buys real value. Together, the prices of the receipt and the bank money make up the bullion's full price.
The bank also issues receipts as well as bank credits for deposits of the country's circulating coins. But these receipts often have no value and fetch nothing in the market. Consider ducatoons, each worth three guilders three stivers in circulation. The bank credits only three guilders for each, or five per cent. below its circulating value. It also issues a receipt allowing the holder to withdraw the deposited ducatoons at any time within six months, after paying one fourth per cent. for storage. This receipt often fetches nothing in the market. Three guilders in bank money generally sell for three guilders three stivers in the market, the full value of the ducatoons if withdrawn. Withdrawing them would also require paying the one-fourth per cent. storage charge, a pure loss for the receipt holder. If the bank's agio fell to three per cent., however, these receipts might gain a market price and sell for one and three-fourths per cent. But because the agio is now generally about five per cent., such receipts often expire, or, as people say, fall to the bank. Receipts for deposits of gold ducats fall to the bank even more often. Withdrawing them requires a higher warehouse rent, one half per cent. The five per cent. the bank gains when it acquires coin or bullion through expired receipts can be considered warehouse rent for storing those deposits permanently.
The amount of bank money whose receipts have expired must be quite large. It must include the bank's entire original capital. People generally think those original deposits have remained there since they were first made. Nobody wanted to renew a receipt or withdraw a deposit, since either action would cause a loss for the reasons already given. But however large this amount is, it is thought to be a very small share of all bank money. For many years the bank of Amsterdam has been Europe's great bullion warehouse. Receipts for bullion deposits very rarely expire, or fall to the bank. Most of the bank money, meaning the credits recorded in the bank's books, is thought to have been created in recent years through deposits that bullion dealers continually make and withdraw.
Nobody can demand anything from the bank without a recipice, or receipt. The smaller pool of bank money whose receipts have expired is mixed with the much larger pool whose receipts remain valid. So although a substantial amount of bank money has no associated receipts, there is no identifiable portion of it that cannot be demanded with a receipt at any time. The bank cannot owe the same thing to two people. Someone who owns bank money without a receipt cannot demand payment until they buy a receipt. In normal, peaceful times, it is easy to buy one at the market price. That price generally matches the price obtainable by selling the coin or bullion that the receipt permits its holder to withdraw.
Things might be different during a public disaster, such as the French invasion in 1672. If all bank-money owners were eager to withdraw their money and keep it themselves, demand for receipts could drive their prices extremely high. Receipt holders might develop extravagant expectations. Instead of asking two or three per cent., they might ask for half the bank money originally credited for each receipt's deposit. An enemy familiar with the bank's rules might even buy up the receipts to prevent the treasure from being carried away. People assume that in such emergencies the bank would set aside its usual rule of paying only receipt holders. Receipt holders without bank money must already have received within two or three per cent. of their deposits' value. So, it is said, the bank would have no objection to paying bank-money owners unable to get receipts the full value credited to them, in money or bullion. At the same time it would pay receipt holders without bank money two or three per cent., the entire value that could fairly be owed to them under those conditions.
Even in normal, peaceful times, receipt holders benefit when the agio falls. Then they can buy bank money, and therefore withdraw the bullion covered by their receipts, more cheaply. Or they can sell receipts at a higher price to people with bank money who want to withdraw bullion. A receipt's price is generally the difference between the market price of bank money and the market price of the coin or bullion covered by the receipt. Bank-money owners, by contrast, benefit when the agio rises. Then they can sell bank money for more or buy receipts for less. To prevent speculative tricks arising from these opposing interests, the bank has recently decided always to sell bank money for ordinary currency at a five per cent. agio and buy it back at a four per cent. agio. The agio can therefore never rise above five or fall below four per cent. The market prices of bank money and ordinary currency remain very close to the relationship between their actual values. Before the bank made this decision, the market agio on bank money sometimes rose as high as nine per cent. and sometimes fell all the way to par, depending on which group's interests dominated the market.
The bank of Amsterdam says it lends out none of its deposits. It says that for every guilder credited in its books, it keeps the value of a guilder in money or bullion in its vaults. There is little reason to doubt that it keeps all the money or bullion covered by valid receipts. It can be asked for that property at any time, and property is constantly leaving the bank and returning to it. It is less certain whether the bank does the same for the part of its capital whose receipts expired long ago. In normal, peaceful times nobody can claim that part, and it is likely to stay in the bank forever, or at least as long as the states of the United Provinces exist. In Amsterdam, however, nothing is more firmly believed than this: every guilder circulating as bank money is matched by a guilder in gold or silver in the bank's vaults. The city guarantees it. The bank is run by four serving burgomasters, who change every year. Each incoming group inspects the treasure, compares it with the books, accepts responsibility for it under oath, and hands it to its successors under the same solemn oath. In that sober and religious country, people still take oaths seriously. This annual turnover alone seems sufficient protection against dishonest practices. Despite every political upheaval caused by factions in Amsterdam's government, the winning side has never accused its predecessors of mishandling the bank. Such a charge could do the greatest possible harm to the defeated side's reputation and fortune. We can be sure it would have been made if there had been evidence to support it. In 1672, when the French king reached Utrecht, the bank of Amsterdam paid claims so promptly that its fidelity to its obligations was beyond doubt. Some of the coins brought out of its vaults then bore scorch marks from a fire in the town hall soon after the bank's founding. Those coins must have been kept there ever since.
Curious people have long speculated about how much treasure the bank holds. We can only guess. It is usually estimated that about 2000 people have bank accounts. Suppose each holds, on average, £1500 sterling in their account, a very generous estimate. The total bank money, and therefore the bank's treasure, would be about £3,000,000 sterling. At eleven guilders to the pound sterling, that is 33,000,000 guilders. This is a large sum, enough to support very extensive circulation, but far below the extravagant estimates some people make of the treasure.
The city of Amsterdam earns substantial revenue from the bank. Besides the warehouse rent already described, a person pays ten guilders to open a first account and three guilders three stivers for every new account. Each transfer costs two stivers, or six stivers if it is for less than 300 guilders, to discourage too many small transactions. A person who fails to balance an account twice a year forfeits twenty-five guilders. Someone who orders a transfer larger than the account balance must pay three per cent. on the overdraft, and the transfer is canceled as well. The bank is also thought to make a substantial profit by selling foreign coins or bullion acquired when receipts expire. It keeps them until it can sell them profitably. It also profits by selling bank money at a five per cent. agio and buying it back at four. These sources of income bring in much more than the cost of staff salaries and operations. Fees for storing bullion covered by receipts alone are thought to produce net annual revenue of between 150,000 and 200,000 guilders. But the bank was originally created for public benefit, not revenue. Its purpose was to spare merchants the problems caused by an unfavorable exchange rate. The resulting revenue was unexpected and can be considered incidental. It is time to return from this long digression. I was led into it while trying to explain why exchange rates between countries that pay in bank money and countries that pay in ordinary currency generally seem to favor the former and run against the latter. The former pay in money whose metal value is always the same and exactly meets their mint standard. The latter pay in money whose metal value changes continually 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.—Why These Extraordinary Restrictions Are Unreasonable for Other Reasons.
In the earlier part of this chapter, I tried to show that even by the principles of the mercantile system, there is no need for extraordinary restrictions on imports from countries with which the balance of trade is thought to be unfavorable.
But the entire doctrine of the balance of trade is absurd. Not only these restrictions but nearly every other trade regulation rests on it. According to the doctrine, when two places trade and their balance is even, neither gains or loses. If the balance shifts to either side, one loses and the other gains in proportion to the size of the shift. Both claims are false. Trade forced into existence by bounties and monopolies can harm the country it is meant to benefit, and usually does, as I will try to show later. But trade that develops naturally and continues regularly between two places without coercion always benefits both, though not necessarily to the same degree.
By benefit or gain, I do not mean an increase in the amount of gold and silver. I mean an increase in the exchangeable value of what the country's land and labor produce each year, or an increase in the annual revenue of its inhabitants.
Suppose trade is balanced and the two places exchange only goods produced at home. Usually both places will gain equally, or almost equally. Each provides a market for some of the other's surplus goods. Each replaces stock used to produce and prepare the other's surplus for sale, stock that was distributed among some of the other's inhabitants and gave them income and a means of living. Some inhabitants of each place therefore get their income and means of living directly from the other. The goods exchanged are assumed to have equal value. So the stock each side uses in the trade will usually be equal or nearly equal. Both amounts of stock are used to produce each country's domestic goods. The income and means of living their distribution provides to each country's inhabitants will therefore also be equal or nearly equal. The greater the trade, the greater this mutual income and support. If each place trades £100,000 of goods each year, each provides the other's inhabitants with annual revenue of £100,000. If each trades £1,000,000, each provides annual revenue of £1,000,000 to the other.
Now suppose one place exports only its own products to the other, but receives only foreign products in return. The balance would still be considered even, since goods are paid for with goods. Both places would still gain, but unequally. The people in the country exporting only its own products would receive the greater income from the trade. Suppose, for example, that England imported only French products from France. England had nothing of its own that the French wanted, so it paid each year by shipping them large amounts of foreign goods, say tobacco and East India goods. This trade would provide some income to both countries, but more to France. All the French stock invested in the trade each year would be distributed among people in France. Only the part of English stock used to produce the English goods that bought those foreign goods would be distributed among people in England. Most of it would replace stock invested in Virginia, Indostan, and China, stock that had provided income and support to people in those distant countries. If the two amounts of stock were equal or nearly equal, the use of French stock would increase the income of France's people far more than the use of English stock would increase the income of England's people. France would conduct a direct foreign trade in consumer goods with England, while England would conduct an indirect trade of the same kind with France. I have already explained fully how stock invested in direct and indirect foreign trade in consumer goods affects each country differently.
There is probably no trade between two countries consisting entirely of an exchange of domestic goods on both sides, or entirely of domestic goods on one side and foreign goods on the other. Nearly every country exchanges a mixture of domestic and foreign goods. Still, the country whose shipments contain the largest share of domestic goods and the smallest share of foreign goods will always gain the most.
Suppose England paid for its annual imports from France with gold and silver instead of tobacco and East India goods. The balance would then be considered unequal, because goods were paid for with gold and silver instead of other goods. Yet this trade would provide some income to people in both countries, just as the previous example did. It would provide more income to the French, but some to the English as well. English goods were produced to buy the gold and silver. The stock used in producing those goods, and distributed as income to some people in England, would be replaced, allowing that work to continue. Exporting gold and silver would no more reduce England's total stock than exporting other goods of equal value. In fact, in most cases it would increase that stock. Goods are sent abroad only when people expect demand for them to be greater there than at home. They therefore expect the goods received in return to be worth more at home than those sent away. If tobacco worth only £100,000 in England buys wine in France worth £110,000 in England, the exchange increases English stock by £10,000. If £100,000 in English gold buys French wine worth £110,000 in England, that exchange increases English stock by the same £10,000. A merchant with £110,000 worth of wine in a cellar is richer than one with only £100,000 worth of tobacco in a warehouse. The wine merchant is also richer than one with only £100,000 worth of gold in a strongbox. The wine merchant can set more labor to work and provide income, support, and employment to more people than either of the others. A country's stock is the combined stock of all its inhabitants. The amount of labor that can be supported in the country each year is what all those amounts of stock together can support. So the exchange will usually increase both the country's stock and the amount of labor it can support each year. England would certainly gain more if it could buy French wine with its own hardware and broadcloth, rather than with Virginia tobacco or gold and silver from Brazil and Peru. Direct foreign trade in consumer goods is always more beneficial than indirect trade. But indirect foreign trade in consumer goods carried on with gold and silver does not seem less beneficial than any other equally indirect trade. Nor is a country without mines more likely to run out of gold and silver by exporting them each year than a country that grows no tobacco is likely to run out of tobacco by exporting it each year. A country that can afford to buy tobacco will not lack it for long. Neither will a country able to buy gold and silver lack those metals for long.
Some say that a worker loses money by trading with the alehouse and that a manufacturing nation's natural trade with a wine-producing country is much the same. My answer is that trade with the alehouse does not necessarily cause a loss. In itself it is as beneficial as any other trade, though it may be somewhat easier to misuse. The brewer's job, and even the sale of alcoholic drinks by a retailer, are divisions of labor as necessary as any others. A worker usually does better buying the amount needed from a brewer than brewing it personally. A poor worker usually does better buying small amounts at a time from a retailer than buying a large amount from a brewer. Of course the worker might buy too much from either, just as from other neighborhood sellers: too much from a butcher out of greed for food, or too much from a cloth seller to look fashionable among friends. Nonetheless, workers in general benefit when all these trades are free, even though people can misuse that freedom in any of them, and perhaps more easily in some than in others. Individuals may sometimes ruin themselves by drinking too much, but there seems to be no risk that a nation will do so. In every country many people spend more on alcoholic drinks than they can afford, but many more spend less. Experience also suggests that cheap wine leads not to drunkenness but to moderation. People in wine-producing countries are generally the most moderate drinkers in Europe. Consider the Spanish, the Italians, and the people of the southern provinces of France. People seldom overindulge in something they have every day. Nobody tries to seem generous and sociable by pouring out too much of a drink as cheap as weak beer. By contrast, in countries where excessive heat or cold prevents grapes from growing, wine is expensive and rare, and drunkenness is a common vice. This includes northern peoples and all those living between the tropics, such as Black people on the coast of Guinea. I have often heard that when a French regiment from one of the northern provinces, where wine is somewhat expensive, is stationed in the south, where it is very cheap, its soldiers at first drink to excess because good wine is cheap and new to them. But after living there for a few months, most become as moderate as the other inhabitants. Similarly, abolishing all duties on foreign wines and all excise taxes on malt, beer, and ale at once might cause fairly widespread but temporary drunkenness among Britain's middle and lower classes. It would probably soon give way to lasting and almost universal moderation. As things stand, drunkenness is certainly not a vice of fashionable people, or of people who can easily afford the most expensive drinks. We hardly ever see one of our gentlemen drunk on ale. Moreover, restrictions on the British wine trade seem designed less to stop people going to the alehouse, so to speak, than to stop them going where they could buy the best and cheapest drink. They favor Portuguese wine and discourage French wine. It is said that the Portuguese buy more of our manufactured goods than the French do, and should therefore receive our preference. Because they buy from us, the argument goes, we should buy from them. The petty tactics of low-level tradesmen are thus turned into rules for governing a great empire. Only the lowest-level tradesmen make a rule of buying mainly from their own customers. A major merchant always buys goods wherever they are cheapest and best, without regard to that kind of petty interest.
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
But rules like these have taught nations to think that they can prosper only by making all their neighbors poor. Each nation has been led to resent the prosperity of the nations it trades with and to treat their gains as its own losses. Trade should naturally bring nations together in friendship, just as it does individuals. Instead, it has become a major source of conflict and hostility. In this century and the last, the baseless jealousy of merchants and manufacturers has disturbed Europe's peace as much as the erratic ambitions of kings and ministers. Violence and injustice by rulers are ancient evils. I fear human affairs leave little room to cure them. But even if we cannot cure the greed and desire for monopoly among merchants and manufacturers, we can easily keep these people, who neither are nor should be our rulers, from disturbing anyone else's peace.
There is no doubt that the desire for monopoly invented and spread this doctrine. The people who first taught it were much cleverer than those who believed it. In every country, most people's interest is, and must be, to buy what they need from whoever sells it cheapest. This is so obvious that proving it seems silly. No one would have questioned it if merchants and manufacturers had not used self-serving arguments to confuse common sense. On this matter, their interest is directly opposed to that of most people. Members of a privileged trade association want to stop other residents from hiring anyone but themselves. In the same way, each country's merchants and manufacturers want a monopoly over their home market. This explains the unusually high duties in Great Britain and most other European countries on nearly all goods imported by foreign merchants. It also explains the high duties and bans on foreign manufactured goods that compete with our own. And it explains the unusual limits on imports from countries said to have an unfavorable balance of trade with us—that is, the countries toward which our national hostility is strongest.
Still, the wealth of neighboring nations, although dangerous in war and politics, clearly benefits trade. During a war, it may let our enemies support bigger fleets and armies than ours. But in peacetime, it also lets them trade more valuable goods with us. They become better customers for our own products and for goods bought with those products. A rich person is likely to be a better customer for hardworking neighbors than a poor one. The same is true of a rich nation. A rich person who also makes goods is indeed a dangerous neighbor for others in the same line of work. But everyone else nearby, who greatly outnumber those competitors, benefits from the market created by that person's spending. They even benefit when that person sells more cheaply than poorer workers in the same trade. Likewise, the manufacturers of a rich nation can certainly be dangerous competitors for manufacturers in neighboring countries. But that competition helps most people, who also benefit greatly from the rich nation's spending on everything else. People hoping to make a fortune do not move to remote, poor provinces. They go to the capital or to major trading cities. They know there is little to gain where little wealth circulates, but where a great deal is changing hands, some of it may come their way. The same common-sense rule that guides one, ten, or twenty people should guide one, ten, or twenty million. An entire nation should see its neighbors' wealth as an opportunity to gain wealth itself. A nation seeking riches through foreign trade has the best chance when its neighbors are rich, productive trading nations. A large nation surrounded by wandering peoples and poor, less-developed communities could certainly grow rich by farming its land and trading within its borders, but not through foreign trade. The ancient Egyptians and modern Chinese seem to have become wealthy this way. The ancient Egyptians are said to have neglected foreign trade. The modern Chinese are known to hold it in deep contempt and scarcely give it even basic legal protection. Modern rules of foreign trade aim to impoverish all our neighbors. To the extent they succeed, they make foreign trade itself small and worthless.
These rules are why trade between France and England faces so many obstacles in both countries. If they considered their real interests without commercial jealousy or national hostility, trade with France might benefit Great Britain more than trade with any other country. For the same reason, trade with Great Britain might benefit France most. France is Great Britain's nearest neighbor. In trade between England's southern coast and France's northern and northwestern coast, capital could return four, five, or six times a year, as it does in domestic trade. So the capital used in this trade could support four, five, or six times as much industry in either country, employing and supporting four, five, or six times as many people as an equal amount of capital in most other kinds of foreign trade. Even between the most distant parts of France and Great Britain, capital could return at least once a year. In that respect, such trade would be at least as valuable as most of our other European foreign trade. It would be at least three times as valuable as the celebrated trade with our North American colonies, where capital rarely returned in less than three years and often took four or five years. France is also thought to have 24,000,000 inhabitants. Our North American colonies were never thought to have more than 3,000,000. France is much richer than North America, although its wealth is less evenly distributed, so it has far more poverty and begging. France could therefore offer a market at least eight times as large and, because capital could return more often, four-and-twenty times as advantageous as our North American colonies ever offered. Trade with Great Britain would benefit France just as much. Given the countries' wealth, populations, and nearness to each other, it would have the same advantage over France's trade with its own colonies. That is how greatly the trade discouraged by the supposedly wise policies of both nations exceeds the trade they have favored most.
Yet the very things that would make free trade between the two countries so beneficial have also created its main obstacles. As neighbors, they inevitably become enemies. Each finds the other's wealth and power more threatening, and what could strengthen a national friendship instead intensifies national hostility. Both nations are rich and productive, and each one's merchants and manufacturers fear competition from the other's skill and energy. Commercial jealousy grows, both feeding national hostility and being fed by it. Traders in both countries confidently insist, with the passionate dishonesty of people protecting their own interests, that unrestricted trade with the other would inevitably produce an unfavorable balance of trade and ruin their country.
The supposed experts in this system have repeatedly predicted the coming ruin of every trading country in Europe because of an unfavorable balance of trade. They have caused much anxiety, and nearly all trading nations have made futile attempts to shift that balance in their own favor and against their neighbors. Yet there is no sign that this has made any European nation poorer in any way. On the contrary, towns and countries have grown richer as they have opened their ports to all nations, instead of being ruined by free trade as the commercial system predicts. A few European towns can in some respects be called free ports, but no country can. Holland perhaps comes closest, though it is still far from fully open. Everyone acknowledges that Holland gets not only all its wealth but much of what it needs to survive from foreign trade.
There is another balance, already explained, quite different from the balance of trade. Whether it is favorable or unfavorable necessarily determines whether a nation prospers or declines. It is the balance between annual production and consumption. As already noted, if the exchangeable value of a society's annual output exceeds the value of its annual consumption, its capital must grow each year by the difference. The society is living within its revenue. What it saves each year is added to its capital and used to raise annual production further. If annual output is worth less than annual consumption, however, the society's capital must shrink each year by the shortfall. Its spending exceeds its revenue and eats into its capital. Both its capital and the exchangeable value of what its workers produce each year must then decline.
This balance between production and consumption is entirely different from the so-called balance of trade. It could exist in a nation completely cut off from the rest of the world, with no foreign trade. It also exists for the whole earth: its wealth, population, and development may gradually rise or gradually fall.
A nation's balance between production and consumption may consistently favor it even if its so-called balance of trade is generally against it. For perhaps half a century, a nation may import goods worth more than its exports. All the gold and silver entering it may immediately leave again. Its supply of coins may gradually shrink as various kinds of paper money replace them, while its debts to its principal trading partners grow. Yet during the same period its real wealth—the exchangeable value of what its land and labor produce annually—may grow by a far greater proportion. Our North American colonies and their trade with Great Britain before the present disturbances began [This paragraph was written in the year 1775.] show that this situation is quite possible.
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
ON DRAWBACKS.
Merchants and manufacturers are not satisfied with a monopoly at home. They also want to sell as much as possible abroad. Their country has no authority over foreign nations, so it can rarely secure a monopoly there for them. They usually have to settle for asking the government for measures that encourage exports.
Of these measures, the most reasonable seem to be the ones called drawbacks, or refunds of duties. A merchant who exports domestic goods can be refunded some or all of the excise or domestic duty paid on them. This cannot cause more goods to be exported than would have been exported if there had been no duty. It does not draw more of the country's capital into that business than would go there naturally. It simply stops the duty from pushing some of that capital into other businesses. It does not upset the balance that naturally develops among the different kinds of work in society. It prevents the duty from upsetting it. It preserves, rather than destroys, the natural division and distribution of labor that is usually worth preserving.
The same applies to refunds of duties on imported foreign goods that are then re-exported. In Great Britain these refunds generally cover by far the largest part of the import duty. Under the second rule attached to the act of parliament that introduced what is now called the old subsidy, every merchant, English or foreign, could reclaim half of that duty upon export. English merchants had to export within twelve months, and foreign merchants within nine months. Wines, currants, and finished silks were the only exceptions, since they qualified for other, more favorable allowances. At the time, this act imposed the only duties on foreign imports. The deadline for claiming this and all other drawbacks was later extended to three years (by 7 Geo. I. chap. 21. sect. 10.).
Most duties introduced since the old subsidy are refunded in full when goods are exported. But there are many exceptions to this general rule. Drawbacks have become far more complicated than they were when first introduced.
For some foreign goods, imports were expected to far exceed home consumption. All duties on these goods are refunded upon export, without even keeping half the old subsidy. Before our North American colonies revolted, we held a monopoly over tobacco from Maryland and Virginia. We imported about ninety-six thousand hogsheads, while domestic consumption was thought to be no more than fourteen thousand. To help export the large remainder, all duties were refunded if it was exported within three years.
We still have nearly, though not quite, a monopoly over sugar from our West Indian islands. So if sugar is exported within a year, all its import duties are refunded. If exported within three years, all are refunded except half the old subsidy, which is still kept on most exported goods. Sugar imports considerably exceed domestic needs, but their excess is small compared with what the tobacco excess used to be.
Some goods are especially feared by our own manufacturers and cannot be imported for domestic consumption. They may, however, be imported, stored in warehouses, and exported after certain duties are paid. No part of those duties is refunded on export. Our manufacturers apparently do not want to encourage even these restricted imports. They fear that some goods will be stolen from the warehouses and compete with their own products. Only under these rules can we import finished silks, French cambrics and lawns, calicoes that are painted, printed, stained, or dyed, etc.
We do not even want to carry French goods. We would rather give up our own profit than help people we consider enemies earn any profit. On exports of all French goods, both half the old subsidy and the second twenty-five per cent. are retained.
Under the fourth rule attached to the old subsidy, refunds on exported wines amounted to much more than half the import duties then paid on them. Parliament apparently wanted to give wine-carrying trade more than the usual encouragement. Several other duties imposed then or later were also fully refundable on export: the additional duty, the new subsidy, the one-third and two-thirds subsidies, the impost 1692, and the tonnage on wine. But all these duties except the additional duty and impost 1692 had to be paid immediately in cash on import. The interest cost on so much money made it unreasonable to expect profitable wine-carrying trade. So only part of the duty called the impost on wine was refundable, and none of the twenty-five pounds the ton on French wines or the duties imposed in 1745, in 1763, and in 1778. The two imposts of five per cent. imposed in 1779 and 1781 on all earlier customs duties were fully refundable on exports of all other goods, and likewise on wine. The last duty imposed specifically on wine, that of 1780, is also fully refundable. But with so many heavy duties retained, this allowance probably could never cause a single ton of wine to be exported. These rules applied to all lawful export destinations except the British colonies in America.
The 15th Charles II, chap. 7, an act for the encouragement of trade, gave Great Britain a monopoly on supplying the colonies with all European-grown or European-made goods, including wine. Our North American and West Indian colonies had extensive coastlines where our authority was always weak. Their residents could ship their non-enumerated goods in their own vessels, first to all of Europe and later to all of Europe south of Cape Finisterre. So it is unlikely that they ever obeyed this monopoly closely. They probably always found ways to bring some cargo back from the places where they were allowed to take goods. They seem, however, to have had trouble importing European wine directly from where it was produced. Nor could they easily import it from Great Britain, where it bore many high duties that were not substantially refunded on export. Madeira wine was not a European product and could be imported directly into America and the West Indies. Those colonies could trade their non-enumerated goods freely with Madeira. These conditions probably created the widespread taste for Madeira wine that our officers found in all our colonies when the war that began in 1755 started. The officers brought that taste back to the mother country, where the wine had not previously been very fashionable. When the war ended in 1763, the 4th Geo. III, chap. 15, sect. 12 allowed refunds of all duties except £3, 10s. on wines exported to the colonies. French wines were excluded: national prejudice permitted no encouragement of their trade or consumption. There was probably too little time between this concession and the revolt of our North American colonies for their habits to change much.
The same act favored the colonies far more than other countries in its refunds on all wines except French wines. But it favored them much less on most other goods. Half the old subsidy was refunded when most goods were exported to other countries. Under this law, however, none of that duty could be refunded on European or East Indian products exported to the colonies, except wines, white calicoes, and muslins.
Drawbacks may originally have been introduced to encourage the carrying trade. Because foreigners often paid shipping charges in cash, this trade was thought especially useful for bringing gold and silver into the country. The carrying trade does not deserve special encouragement, and the reason for the policy may have been quite foolish. But the policy itself seems reasonable enough. These refunds cannot draw more of the country's capital into the trade than would have gone there without import duties. They only keep the duties from shutting it out entirely. The carrying trade deserves no preference, but it should not be excluded. Like any other trade, it should be left free. It provides a necessary outlet for capital that cannot find work in agriculture, manufacturing, domestic trade, or foreign trade supplying domestic consumption.
Far from losing money through these drawbacks, customs revenue gains from the part of each duty that is retained. If the full duties had been kept, these foreign goods could rarely have been exported, or imported in the first place, because there would have been no market for them. Then none of those duties would have been paid.
These reasons seem enough to justify drawbacks. They would justify them even if every duty on domestic or foreign goods were always refunded on export. Excise revenue would then lose a little and customs revenue much more. But such a policy would do more to restore the natural balance of industry and the natural division and distribution of labor, which these duties always disrupt to some extent.
These reasons, however, justify refunds only for exports to entirely foreign, independent countries, not to places where our merchants and manufacturers hold a monopoly. A refund on European goods exported to our American colonies, for example, will not always increase exports above what they would be without it. Because our merchants and manufacturers have a monopoly there, the same amount might often be shipped even if all duties were retained. The refund might then simply cost excise and customs revenue without changing or expanding trade at all. Whether such refunds are justified as encouragement for our colonies' industry, or whether the mother country benefits from exempting colonists from taxes paid by all their fellow subjects, will become clear when I discuss colonies later.
Finally, drawbacks are useful only when the goods for which they are given really go to another country rather than being secretly brought back into our own. It is well known that some refunds, especially those on tobacco, have often been misused this way. They have led to many frauds, harming both revenue and 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
ON BOUNTIES.
In Great Britain, people often ask for bounties on exports from particular domestic industries, and sometimes receive them. The claim is that these payments will let our merchants and manufacturers sell their goods abroad as cheaply as, or more cheaply than, their competitors. They will then export more, it is said, improving our balance of trade. We cannot give our workers a monopoly in foreign markets as we have at home. We cannot force foreigners to buy their goods as we have forced our own people to do. So the next best approach, people have thought, is to pay foreigners to buy. That is how the mercantile system proposes to make the whole country rich and put money in all our pockets through the balance of trade.
It is agreed that bounties should go only to trades that could not operate without them. But if a merchant can sell goods for enough to recover all the capital spent preparing and shipping them to market, plus the ordinary profit on stock, that trade can operate without a bounty. It is clearly on the same footing as other trades that need no bounties and cannot need one any more than they do. Only a trade in which a merchant must sell for less than the capital spent plus ordinary profit needs a bounty. In other words, the selling price is below the true cost of getting the goods to market. A bounty makes up the loss and encourages the merchant to continue, or perhaps start, that trade. Its costs supposedly exceed its returns. Each transaction consumes some of the capital invested in it, and if every trade worked this way, the country would soon have no capital left.
Notice that trades supported by bounties are the only ones in which two nations can trade for a considerable time while one regularly loses money, selling goods for less than their true cost of delivery to market. If the bounty did not repay the merchant's loss on the selling price, self-interest would soon make him use his stock differently. He would seek a trade whose selling price covered the capital spent on getting goods to market, plus ordinary profit. Like every other device of the mercantile system, bounties can only force a country's trade into a much less beneficial course than it would naturally follow.
The clever, well-informed author of the Tracts upon the Corn Trade has clearly shown that, since the bounty on corn exports began, the exported corn's value, even estimated fairly conservatively, has exceeded the generously estimated value of imported corn by much more than all the bounties paid in that period. By the mercantile system's own principles, he takes this as clear proof that the forced corn trade helps the nation: export value exceeds import value by much more than the public's extra cost of securing those exports. But he overlooks that the bounty is the smallest part of what exporting corn actually costs society. We must also count the capital the farmer used to grow it. Unless the foreign selling price covers both the bounty and that capital, plus the ordinary profits of stock, society loses the difference. Its national stock shrinks by that amount. Yet the very reason for granting a bounty is the belief that the price is not high enough to cover those costs.
People have said that the average price of corn has fallen substantially since the bounty was introduced. I have already tried to show that it began to fall somewhat toward the end of the last century and kept falling over the first sixty-four years of this one. But if this fall really happened, as I believe it did, it happened despite the bounty, not because of it. It happened in France as well as in England, even though France had no bounty and generally prohibited corn exports until 1764. The gradual decline in average grain prices was therefore probably due to neither policy. It probably resulted from the gradual, almost imperceptible rise in the real value of silver across Europe's general market during this century, which I tried to demonstrate in the first book of this work. It seems altogether impossible for the bounty ever to lower grain prices.
As noted earlier, in plentiful years the bounty causes extra exports and necessarily keeps domestic corn prices above the level to which they would otherwise fall. That was its stated purpose. In scarce years the bounty is often suspended. Still, the heavy exports it produces in plentiful years often prevent one year's abundance from doing as much to relieve the next year's shortage. In both plentiful and scarce years, then, the bounty necessarily tends to make the domestic money price of corn somewhat higher than it would otherwise be.
I do not think any reasonable person would dispute that the bounty has this effect given the current state of farming. Many, however, think it encourages farming in two ways. First, they say that a larger foreign market increases demand for the farmer's corn and therefore increases its production. Second, they say that a better price than the farmer could otherwise expect under present farming conditions encourages him to grow it. They imagine that, over many years, these two incentives must increase corn production so much that the domestic price falls by far more than the bounty raises it under the farming conditions then in place.
My answer is that any foreign market gained through the bounty in a given year comes entirely at the domestic market's expense. Every bushel exported because of the bounty would otherwise have remained at home, increasing domestic consumption and lowering the price. Like every export bounty, the corn bounty places two separate taxes on the people. First they pay the tax that funds the bounty. Second they pay a tax through the higher domestic price of corn. Since everyone buys corn, everyone must pay this second tax on this particular product. For corn, it is by far the heavier of the two. Suppose the bounty of 5s. per quarter of wheat exported raises the domestic price, averaged across years, by only 6d. per bushel, or 4s. per quarter, above what it would otherwise be with the existing crop. Even on that modest assumption, most people must pay not only the tax that funds 5s. for every quarter exported, but another 4s. for every quarter they consume themselves. According to the very well-informed author of the Tracts upon the Corn Trade, no more than one quarter is exported for every thirty-one consumed at home. So for every 5s. the people contribute toward the first tax, they must contribute £6:4s. toward the second. Such a heavy tax on life's most basic necessity must either reduce the food available to working poor people or raise their money wages in proportion to the money price of their food. If it reduces their food, they are less able to raise and educate their children, which holds back population growth. If it raises their wages, employers can hire fewer workers than they otherwise could, which holds back the country's industry. The extra corn exports caused by the bounty thus reduce the domestic market and consumption in each year by exactly as much as they expand the foreign market and consumption. By holding back population and industry, they also ultimately restrict the gradual growth of the domestic market. In the long run, they tend to shrink rather than grow the total market and consumption of corn.
Still, some have thought that a higher money price for corn must encourage its production by making it more profitable for the farmer.
My answer is that this could be true if the bounty raised the real price of corn. Then the same amount of corn would let the farmer support more workers at the usual local standard of living, whether generous, moderate, or meager. But the bounty, like any human institution, clearly cannot do that. It is the nominal, or money, price of corn, not its real price, that the bounty can substantially affect. The tax it places on everyone may be a heavy burden for the people paying it, while providing very little benefit to those receiving it.
The bounty's real effect is less to raise corn's real value than to reduce silver's real value. The same quantity of silver then buys less not just of corn but of all other goods made at home. That is because the money price of corn governs the prices of all other goods made at home.
It governs money wages. Workers must always earn enough money to buy sufficient corn to support themselves and their families at the generous, moderate, or meager level that their employers can afford, depending on whether society is growing, standing still, or declining.
It governs the money price of all other raw products of the land. At each stage of development their prices must bear some relation to the price of corn, although that relation varies from one stage to another. It governs, for example, the money prices of grass and hay, butcher's meat, horses and their upkeep, and therefore land transport and most inland trade in the country.
By governing prices for other raw products of the land, it governs the cost of materials for almost all manufactured goods. By governing money wages, it governs the cost of manufacturing skill and labor. By governing both, it governs the price of finished goods. Money wages and the money prices of everything produced by land or labor must rise or fall in proportion to the money price of corn.
The bounty might let the farmer sell his corn for 4s. the bushel instead of 3s:6d. and pay his landlord a money rent increased in proportion to that higher selling price. But if, because corn costs more, 4s. now buys no more of any other domestically made goods than 3s. 6d. bought before, neither farmer nor landlord gains much. The farmer cannot cultivate much better, and the landlord cannot live much better. The higher corn price may give them a small advantage when buying foreign goods, but none at all when buying goods made at home. Almost all the farmer's spending, and by far most of the landlord's, goes to goods made at home.
When fertile mines reduce the value of silver across all, or nearly all, of the trading world, that matters very little to any one country. The resulting rise in all money prices does not make those receiving the money truly richer, but it does not make them truly poorer either. A set of silver tableware becomes cheaper in real terms, while everything else keeps exactly the same real value.
But when a country's particular location or policies reduce the value of silver in that country alone, the consequences matter a great deal. Far from making anyone truly richer, this tends to make everyone truly poorer. The rise in money prices that is peculiar to that country tends to discourage every kind of domestic industry to some extent. Foreign countries can supply nearly every kind of good for less silver than its own workers can, underselling them both abroad and at home.
Spain and Portugal are in the special position of owning the mines and distributing gold and silver to all the other countries of Europe. Those metals should therefore naturally be somewhat cheaper in Spain and Portugal than elsewhere in Europe. But the difference should be no greater than shipping and insurance costs. Since the metals are very valuable and take up little space, shipping costs little, and insurance costs the same as for other goods of equal value. Spain and Portugal would therefore suffer very little from their position if their policies did not make its disadvantages worse.
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 exports of gold and silver, while Portugal prohibits them. Both measures add the cost of smuggling to exports. That cost raises the value of these metals in other countries above their value in Spain and Portugal. Think of a stream stopped by a dam. Once the space behind the dam fills up, as much water flows over it as would have flowed without the dam. A ban on exports cannot keep more gold and silver in Spain and Portugal than they can use. The annual produce of their land and labor determines how much they can use in coins, plate, gilding, and other gold and silver ornaments. Once they have that amount, the dam is full, and everything that flows in afterward must flow out. By all accounts, despite the restrictions, their annual exports of gold and silver are therefore almost equal to their entire annual imports. But water is always deeper behind the dam than in front of it. Likewise, the restrictions keep more gold and silver in Spain and Portugal, relative to the annual produce of their land and labor, than other countries have. The higher and stronger the dam, the greater the difference in water depth on its two sides. Similarly, the higher the tax, the harsher the penalties enforcing the prohibition, and the more watchful and severe the police enforcing the law, the greater the difference between Spain and Portugal and other countries in their proportions of gold and silver to annual produce. The difference is said to be very large. Houses there often contain lavish quantities of plate, even though nothing else in those houses would be thought suitable for such splendor in other countries. This excess of precious metals makes gold and silver cheap—or, equivalently, makes all other goods expensive. It discourages farming and manufacturing in Spain and Portugal. Foreign countries can supply them with many raw products and almost every kind of manufactured product for less gold and silver than it would cost them to grow or make those things at home. The tax and prohibition work in two ways. They greatly lower the value of precious metals in Spain and Portugal. They also keep there some metals that would otherwise flow to other countries, keeping the metals' value in those countries somewhat higher than it would otherwise be. This gives those countries a double advantage in trade with Spain and Portugal. Open the floodgates, and water will soon be lower on one side of the dam and higher on the other. The levels will soon become equal. Remove the tax and prohibition, and the quantity of gold and silver will fall considerably in Spain and Portugal and rise somewhat elsewhere. The value of those metals, relative to the annual produce of land and labor, will soon become equal, or nearly equal, everywhere. Any loss Spain and Portugal suffered from exporting their gold and silver would exist only on paper. The money value of their goods and annual produce would fall: it would be expressed in a smaller quantity of silver. But their real value would stay the same. They would still be enough to support, buy, and employ the same amount of labor. As the money value of their goods fell, the real value of their remaining gold and silver would rise. Less of those metals would do all the work in trade and circulation that a larger amount had done before. The exported gold and silver would not leave for nothing. Goods of equal value would come back in exchange. Nor would all these goods be luxuries and other things consumed by idle people who produce nothing in return. This extraordinary export of gold and silver would not increase idle people's real wealth or revenue, so it would not greatly increase their consumption either. Most of the imported goods probably, and some of them certainly, would be materials, tools, and provisions for employing and supporting industrious people. Those people would produce anew, with a profit, the full value of what they consumed. Some of society's inactive stock would become active stock and set more industry in motion than before. The annual produce of Spain and Portugal's land and labor would increase a little at once and probably a great deal within a few years. Their industry would be freed from one of the heaviest burdens it now bears.
The bounty paid on corn exports necessarily works in exactly the same way as this absurd policy of Spain and Portugal. Whatever the current state of cultivation, the bounty makes our corn somewhat more expensive at home and somewhat cheaper abroad than it otherwise would be. The average money price of corn more or less determines the price of all other goods. The bounty therefore considerably lowers the value of silver at home and tends to raise it a little abroad. It lets foreigners, especially the Dutch, eat our corn more cheaply than they otherwise could. At times they can even eat it more cheaply than our own people can in the same circumstances, as the excellent authority Sir Matthew Decker assures us. It prevents our workers from selling their goods for as little silver as they otherwise could, and it lets the Dutch sell theirs for less. It tends to make our manufactured goods somewhat more expensive in every market and Dutch goods somewhat cheaper. Their industry thus gains a double advantage over ours.
The bounty raises the price of our corn at home mainly in money, not in real terms. It does not increase the labor that a given amount of corn can support and employ, only the silver for which that corn can be exchanged. So it discourages our manufacturing without providing any significant benefit to our farmers or country gentlemen. It does put a little more money in both their pockets. Perhaps most of them will be hard to persuade that this is not a significant benefit. But if the money loses as much purchasing power over labor, provisions, and every kind of domestically made product as their money income gains in amount, the benefit is little more than an illusion on paper.
Perhaps only one group in the whole country has gained, or could gain, a real benefit from the bounty: corn merchants, who export and import corn. In plentiful years the bounty necessarily caused more exports than would otherwise have occurred. This kept one year's plenty from easing another year's scarcity, and thus caused more imports in scarce years than would otherwise have been needed. Both effects increased the corn merchant's business. In scarce years, the bounty let him import more corn and sell it at a better price and greater profit than he could have earned if one year's plenty had been allowed to ease the next year's scarcity. Accordingly, it is among these merchants that I have seen the strongest support for continuing or restoring the bounty.
When our country gentlemen established the bounty and imposed high duties on the export of foreign corn—duties amounting to a ban in times of moderate plenty—they seem to have copied our manufacturers. The duties gave them a monopoly of the home market. The bounty was meant to keep that market from ever having too much of their product. Both measures were intended to raise its real value, just as similar measures had raised the real value of many manufactured goods for manufacturers. But perhaps they overlooked a great and fundamental difference between corn and almost every other product. If a home monopoly or export bounty lets our woolen or linen manufacturers get a somewhat better price for their goods, it raises both the money price and the real price of those goods. Their goods become worth more labor and means of subsistence. The manufacturers' real profit, wealth, and revenue increase, not just their money amounts. They can live better or employ more workers in those manufactures. Those manufactures are genuinely encouraged, drawing in more of the country's industry than would naturally go into them. But when similar measures raise the money price of corn, they do not raise its real value. They do not increase the real wealth or revenue of our farmers or country gentlemen. Nor do they encourage more corn production, because they do not enable those people to support and employ more workers to grow it. Corn has a real value fixed by its nature; merely changing its money price cannot change that value. Neither an export bounty nor a home-market monopoly can raise it. Even the freest competition cannot lower it. In the world generally, that value equals the amount of labor corn can support. In each particular place, it equals the labor it can support according to the local standard of support, whether generous, moderate, or meager. Woolen and linen cloth are not the goods that finally determine the real value of everything else; corn is. Every other good's real value is ultimately measured by the relationship between its average money price and corn's average money price. When corn's average money price changes from one century to another, corn's real value does not change. The real value of silver does.
Export bounties on any homemade product face two objections. First is the general objection to all the devices of the mercantile system: they force some of the country's industry into a less advantageous line of work than it would naturally enter. Second is a particular objection: they force it into a line of work that is actually disadvantageous, not merely less advantageous. Trade that requires a bounty must be a losing trade. The corn export bounty faces a further objection: it cannot do anything to increase production of the very product it is meant to encourage. So when our country gentlemen sought the bounty, they copied our merchants and manufacturers without understanding their own interests as thoroughly as those groups usually do. They imposed a substantial cost on public revenue and a very heavy tax on all the people. Yet they did not appreciably raise the real value of their corn. By somewhat lowering the real value of silver, they also somewhat discouraged industry throughout the country. Instead of promoting improvements to their land, they held them back to some degree, since such improvements necessarily depend on the country's general industry.
One might expect a bounty on producing a good to encourage its production more directly than an export bounty does. It would also impose only one tax on the people: the tax they must pay to fund it. Instead of raising the good's home-market price, it would tend to lower that price. Rather than imposing a second tax on the people, it could thus partly repay their contribution to the first. Yet production bounties have rarely been given. Prejudices spread by the mercantile system have taught us to think national wealth comes more directly from exports than from production. Exports have therefore been favored as the more direct way of bringing money into the country. It has also been said that experience shows production bounties are more open to fraud than export bounties. I do not know whether this is true. We certainly know that export bounties have been used for many fraudulent purposes. But merchants and manufacturers, who invented 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 ship their surplus abroad and maintain the home price of what remains. Of all the devices of the mercantile system, it is therefore the one they like best. I have known owners of certain works to agree privately to pay, from their own pockets, a bounty on exports of a certain share of the goods they dealt in. This worked so well that the home price of their goods more than doubled, despite a very substantial increase in output. The effect of the corn bounty must have been remarkably different if it lowered corn's money price.
Still, something like a production bounty has sometimes been given. The tonnage bounties for the white herring and whale fisheries may be examples. One might suppose they directly tend to make the goods cheaper in the home market than they would otherwise be. In other respects, admittedly, they work like export bounties. They put some of the country's capital to work bringing goods to market at a price that does not cover their cost plus the ordinary profits of stock.
Although the tonnage bounties for those fisheries do not increase the nation's wealth, one might think they help defend it by increasing its sailors and ships. It might be argued that such bounties can sometimes achieve this at much less cost than maintaining a large permanent navy, if I may call it that, like 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 arguments in their favor, the following points lead me to believe that lawmakers were badly misled when they granted at least one of these bounties:
First, the bounty for herring busses appears too large.
From the start of the winter fishing season of 1771 to the end of the winter season of 1781, the tonnage bounty for the herring-buss fishery was thirty shillings per ton. During those eleven years, Scotland's herring busses caught a total of 378,347 barrels. Herrings caught and cured at sea are called sea-sticks. To turn these into what are called merchantable herrings, fish-curers must repack them with more salt. By the usual reckoning, three barrels of sea-sticks become two barrels of merchantable herrings. So the catch over those eleven years amounted, on this calculation, to only 252,231¼ barrels of merchantable herrings. The tonnage bounties paid in that period amounted to £155,463:11s., or 8s:2¼d. per barrel of sea-sticks and 12s:3¾d. per barrel of merchantable herrings.
These herrings are cured with either Scotch or foreign salt, both of which are supplied to fish-curers free of excise duty. At present that duty is 1s:6d. per bushel of Scotch salt and 10s. per bushel of foreign salt. A barrel of herrings is thought to need about one and one-fourth bushels of foreign salt, or an average of two bushels of Scotch salt. If the herrings are registered for export, none of the duty is paid. If they are registered for domestic consumption, only one shilling per barrel is paid, whether they were cured with foreign or Scotch salt. This was the old Scotch duty on one bushel of salt, the amount once thought necessary to cure a barrel of herrings even on a low estimate. In Scotland, foreign salt has very little use apart from curing fish. Yet from the 5th April 1771 to the 5th April 1782, imports of foreign salt came to 936,974 bushels, at eighty-four pounds per bushel. Scotch salt delivered from the salt works to fish-curers amounted to only 168,226 bushels, at just fifty-six pounds per bushel. It seems, then, that the fisheries chiefly use foreign salt. There is also a bounty of 2s:8d. on every barrel of herrings exported, and more than two-thirds of the herrings caught by busses are exported. Add all this together: during those eleven years, each exported barrel of buss-caught herrings cured with Scotch salt cost the government 17s:11¾d.; each barrel for domestic consumption cost 14s:3¾d. Each exported barrel cured with foreign salt cost the government £1:7:5¾d.; each barrel for domestic consumption cost £1:3:9¾d. A barrel of good merchantable herrings sells for anything from seventeen or eighteen to four or five-and-twenty shillings, averaging about a guinea. [See the accounts at the end of this Book.]
Second, the white-herring bounty is paid by the ton. It depends on the size of the ship, not on how hard or successfully its crew fishes. I fear it has been all too common to outfit ships to catch the bounty rather than the fish. In 1759, when the bounty was fifty shillings per ton, Scotland's entire 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 cost £159:7:6.
Third, the fishing method supported by this white-herring tonnage bounty—busses, or decked vessels carrying twenty to eighty tons—seems less suited to Scotland than to Holland, whose practice it apparently copies. Holland lies far from the seas where herrings are chiefly found. It must therefore use decked vessels that can carry enough water and provisions for a distant voyage. But the Hebrides, or Western Islands, the islands of Shetland, and Scotland's northern and northwestern coasts are the areas near which most herring fishing takes place. Arms of the sea run a long way into the land throughout these areas. Locally, they are called sea-lochs. Herrings chiefly enter these sea-lochs during the seasons when they visit these waters, though their visits, like those of many other kinds of fish, are not entirely regular or constant. Boat fishing therefore seems best suited to Scotland's particular geography. Fishers can bring each catch ashore immediately to be cured or eaten fresh. But the strong encouragement given to buss fishing by a bounty of 30s. per ton necessarily puts boat fishing at a disadvantage. With no such bounty, boat fishers cannot sell cured fish on the same terms as buss fishers. Accordingly, boat fishing was substantial before the buss bounty was established and is said to have employed at least as many sailors as buss fishing employs now. It has since declined almost to nothing. I must admit, though, that I cannot give a very precise account of its former size. Since no bounty was paid for outfitting boat fisheries, customs and salt-duty officers kept no records of them.
Fourth, at certain times of year, herrings form a substantial part of ordinary people's food in many parts of Scotland. A bounty that reduced their home-market price could greatly help many fellow subjects who are far from wealthy. But the herring-buss bounty does no such good. It has ruined boat fishing, the method best suited to supplying the home market. And the extra export bounty of 2s:8d. per barrel sends abroad most of the buss catch—more than two-thirds of it. I have been told that thirty to forty years ago, before the buss bounty began, the usual price of white herrings was 16s. per barrel. Ten to fifteen years ago, before boat fishing was entirely ruined, the price reportedly ranged from seventeen to twenty shillings per barrel. Over the last five years it has averaged twenty-five shillings per barrel. This high price might, however, reflect a real shortage of herrings off Scotland's coast. I must also note that the cask or barrel, normally sold with the herrings and included in every price just quoted, has risen since the start of the American war from about 3s. to about 6s.—roughly double its old price. Also, the accounts I have received of earlier prices are not entirely consistent. An old man of great accuracy and experience has assured me that more than fifty years ago, a barrel of good merchantable herrings usually cost a guinea. I think that can still be taken as the average price. All the accounts agree, however, as far as I can tell, that the buss bounty has not lowered the home-market price.
When fishing entrepreneurs receive such generous bounties yet keep selling fish at the same price as before, or even a higher one, we might expect very large profits. Some individuals may indeed have made them. In general, though, I have every reason to believe the opposite. Such bounties commonly tempt reckless people to enter businesses they do not understand. Their losses through carelessness and ignorance more than offset everything they gain from the government's generosity. In 1750, the same act that first gave the white-herring fishery a bounty of 30s. per ton (the 23d Geo. II. chap. 24) also created a joint-stock company with capital of £500,000. For fourteen years, its subscribers were entitled to three pounds a year for every hundred pounds they subscribed and paid into the company's stock, in addition to all the other benefits: the tonnage bounty, the export bounty of 2s:8d. per barrel, and British and foreign salt free of duty. The receiver-general of customs was to pay this amount in equal installments every six months. Besides this large company, whose governor and directors were to live in London, the act allowed separate fishing chambers in the kingdom's different out-ports. Each had to raise at least £10,000 of capital and operate at its own risk, keeping its own profits or bearing its own losses. These smaller chambers received the same annual payment and every other benefit given to the large company. Subscriptions soon filled the large company's capital requirement, and several fishing chambers were established in the out-ports. Despite all the incentives, nearly all the companies, large and small, lost all or most of their capital. Hardly a trace of any remains. Private entrepreneurs now conduct all, or nearly all, of the white-herring fishery.
If a particular manufacture were necessary for the country's defense, it might indeed be unwise to rely entirely on neighboring countries for its supply. If that manufacture could not survive at home otherwise, it might be reasonable to tax all other branches of industry to support it. On this ground, perhaps the export bounties for British-made sailcloth and British-made gunpowder can both be defended.
But it can very rarely be reasonable to tax the industry of most people to support a particular group of manufacturers. Still, when prosperity is so great that the public has more revenue than it knows how to spend, giving bounties to favored manufactures might seem as natural as any other wasteful expense. In public spending as in private spending, great wealth may often be accepted as an excuse for great foolishness. Yet continuing such extravagance in times of general hardship and distress must surely be unusually absurd.
Something called a bounty is sometimes simply a drawback—a refund of a tax—and is then not open to the same objections as a genuine bounty. For example, the payment on exported refined sugar can be regarded as a refund of duties on the brown and Muscovado sugars used to make it. The payment on exported wrought silk can be seen as a refund of duties on imported raw and thrown silk. The payment on exported gunpowder can be seen as a refund of duties on imported brimstone and saltpeter. In customs terminology, only payments on goods exported in the same form in which they were imported are called drawbacks. If manufacturing changes their form enough to give them a new name, the payments are called bounties.
Public prizes for artists and manufacturers who excel at their work do not face the same objections as bounties. By rewarding exceptional skill and ingenuity, they encourage competition among the workers already doing those jobs. They are not big enough to draw more of the country's capital into any one trade than would naturally go there. Rather than upsetting the natural balance among occupations, they encourage workers in each to do their work as well and thoroughly as possible. Prizes also cost very little, while bounties cost a great deal. The corn bounty alone has sometimes cost the public more than £300,000 in one year.
Bounties are sometimes called prizes, just as drawbacks are sometimes called bounties. We must always look at what a payment really is, not what it is called.
Digression on the Corn Trade and Corn Laws.
I cannot finish this chapter on bounties without pointing out that the law granting a bounty on corn exports, and the related system of regulations, do not deserve the praise they have received. A closer look at the corn trade and the main British laws governing it will show why. The subject is important enough to justify a long digression.
The corn merchant's business has four branches. One person may sometimes conduct all four, but they are separate trades by nature. They are, first, dealing inland; second, importing corn for domestic use; third, exporting domestically grown corn for foreign use; and fourth, carrying corn through the country by importing it for re-export.
I. The interests of the inland dealer and the public are exactly the same, even in the worst years of scarcity, however opposed they may seem at first. It benefits the dealer to raise his price as high as the season's actual shortage requires, but never higher. A higher price reduces consumption and pushes everyone, especially poorer people, to save and manage carefully. Suppose he raises the price so high that consumption falls enough for the season's supply to outlast the season and remain when the next harvest starts. Some of his corn may naturally spoil, and he may have to sell what remains for much less than he could have got months earlier. Suppose instead that he does not raise the price enough to reduce consumption, and the season's supply runs out before the season ends. He loses some profit he could have made, and the people face not just the hardships of shortage but the terrible horrors of famine before the season ends. The people need their daily, weekly, and monthly consumption to match the season's supply as closely as possible. The inland corn dealer needs the same thing. If he supplies them in that proportion, as best he can judge it, he will likely sell all his corn at the highest price and greatest profit. His knowledge of the harvest and of his daily, weekly, and monthly sales lets him judge, more or less accurately, whether supply is being spread in that way. Even without intending to help the public, his own interest leads him to treat people in scarce years much as a careful ship's captain sometimes has to treat his crew. When the captain sees that provisions may run short, he rations them. He may sometimes do so needlessly out of excessive caution. But the inconvenience this causes is small compared with the danger, suffering, and ruin his crew might face if he took less care. Likewise, a corn merchant's excessive greed may sometimes lead him to charge somewhat more than the season's shortage requires. But the inconvenience to the people from this course, which protects them from famine at the season's end, is small compared with the danger they might face if he sold more freely at its beginning. The merchant himself is likely to suffer most from that excessive greed. People will usually be angry at him; and even if he escapes the effects of their anger, he will have corn left at the end of the season. If the next season is favorable, he must sell it for much less than he could otherwise have received.
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 large company of merchants could somehow acquire the entire crop of a large country, it might benefit them to handle it the way the Dutch are said to handle the spices of the Moluccas. They could destroy or throw away a large part to maintain the price of the rest. But even the force of law can hardly establish a monopoly that broad over corn. Wherever the trade is free, corn is less likely than any other good to be bought up and monopolized with a few large sums of capital. For one thing, its value far exceeds what a few private people's stock can purchase. Even if they could afford it, the way corn is produced would make the purchase impossible in practice. In every civilized country, more corn is consumed each year than any other product. More labor is therefore devoted to producing it each year than to any other product. As soon as it comes out of the ground, it is divided among more owners than any other product. Those owners cannot all be brought together in one place, as independent manufacturers can; they are spread throughout the country. They either sell directly to nearby consumers or sell to other inland dealers who supply those consumers. Inland corn dealers, including farmers and bakers, must therefore be more numerous than dealers in any other product. Their scattered locations make a general agreement among them impossible. Suppose, then, that one of them had much more corn in a scarce year than he expected to sell at the going price before the season ended. He would not keep up that price at a loss to himself solely to benefit his competitors. He would immediately lower it to sell his corn before the new crop arrived. The same motives and interests governing one dealer would govern every other. In general, they would all have to sell at prices that, in their best judgment, suited the season's scarcity or plenty.
Anyone who closely studies the history of shortages and famines in Europe during this century or the two before it—several of which are fairly well documented—will find, I believe, that a shortage has never been caused by a combination of inland corn dealers. It has come only from a real lack of supply, caused perhaps in some places by the destruction of war but, in the great majority of cases, by bad weather. Famine, in turn, has come only from government violence: misguided attempts to remedy the problems caused by a shortage.
In a large corn-growing country where trade and travel are free between all its regions, even the worst weather cannot cause a shortage severe enough to produce famine. With careful management and thrift, even the smallest crop will feed through the year the same number of people who would normally eat more generously when the crop was moderately plentiful. The worst weather for crops is extreme drought or extreme rain. But corn grows on high and low ground alike, in places liable to be too wet and places liable to be too dry. Rain or drought that harms one region helps another. Although both a wet season and a dry one produce much smaller crops than a better-balanced season, gains in one region partly make up for losses elsewhere. In rice-growing countries the effect of drought is much worse. Rice needs very wet soil and must be under water during part of its growth. Even there, however, drought is perhaps hardly ever so widespread that famine must follow if the government allows free trade. A drought in Bengal a few years ago probably could have caused a very severe shortage. Some misguided rules and unwise restrictions that the East India Company's servants imposed on the rice trade may have helped turn that shortage into a famine.
When a government orders all dealers to sell corn at what it considers a reasonable price to ease a shortage, it either keeps corn from reaching the market—which can cause famine even at the start of the season—or, if dealers do bring corn to market, it allows and encourages people to consume it fast enough to cause famine before the season ends. Complete freedom of the corn trade is the only effective way to prevent the suffering caused by famine. It is also the best way to ease the problems caused by a shortage. A real lack of supply cannot be corrected; its effects can only be eased. No trade deserves the law's full protection more, and none needs it more, because no trade attracts so much public hatred.
In scarce years, poorer people blame their suffering on the corn merchant's greed. They hate and resent him. Instead of earning a profit, he often risks being ruined when they plunder and destroy his stores. Yet scarce years with high prices are the years in which he expects to make most of his profit. He commonly has a contract with farmers to supply him for a set number of years with a set quantity of corn at a set price. That contract price is based on what is considered moderate and reasonable: the usual or average price. Before the recent scarce years, this was commonly about 28s. per quarter of wheat, with other grains priced in proportion. So in scarce years the merchant buys much of his corn at the usual price and sells it for much more. Even so, this unusual profit appears only large enough to put his trade on an equal footing with other trades. It makes up for his many losses at other times, both because corn can spoil and because its price changes often and unexpectedly. One piece of evidence is that large fortunes are made as rarely in this trade as in any other. But the public hostility surrounding the trade in scarce years—the only years in which it can be very profitable—keeps respectable, wealthy people away. It is left to a lower class of dealers. Millers, bakers, meal-men, meal-factors, and many poor peddlers are almost the only middlemen between growers and consumers in the home market.
Instead of discouraging this public hostility toward a trade so useful to everyone, Europe's old laws seem to have approved and encouraged it.
The 5th and 6th of Edward VI cap. 14 declared anyone who bought corn or grain intending to sell it again an unlawful engrosser. For a first offense, the penalty was two months in prison and forfeiture of the corn's value; for a second, six months in prison and forfeiture of twice its value; and for a third, the pillory, prison for as long as the king pleased, and forfeiture of all his goods and property. Old laws in most other parts of Europe were no better than England's.
Our ancestors apparently thought people would buy corn more cheaply from farmers than from corn merchants. They feared merchants would demand excessive profits on top of what they paid farmers, so they tried to abolish the trade altogether. They also tried as far as possible to prevent any kind of middleman from coming between grower and consumer. This was the point of their many restrictions on the people called kidders, or corn carriers. No one could practice that trade without a license certifying that he was honest and dealt fairly. Under Edward VI's statute, three justices of the peace had to authorize the license. Even this restriction was later considered insufficient: an Elizabethan statute restricted the power to grant it to the quarter-sessions.
Europe's old laws thus tried to regulate agriculture, the country's main business, by principles quite different from those used for manufacturing, the towns' main business. By leaving a farmer no customers apart from consumers and their direct agents, the kidders and corn carriers, the law tried to force him to work not only as a farmer but also as a corn merchant or retailer. By contrast, it often prohibited a manufacturer from keeping a shop or selling his own goods at retail. The first law was supposed to promote the country's general interest by making corn cheap, though lawmakers may not have understood how it would do that. The other law was supposed to help a particular group, the shopkeepers. People assumed manufacturers would charge so much less than shopkeepers that allowing manufacturers to sell at retail would ruin shopkeepers' trade.
But even if a manufacturer had been allowed to run a shop and sell his own goods at retail, he could not have charged less than an ordinary shopkeeper. Any capital he put into the shop would have to come out of his manufacturing business. To run both businesses on equal terms with others, he would need a manufacturer's profit from the first and a shopkeeper's profit from the second. Suppose that in his town the usual profit on both manufacturing stock and shopkeeping stock was ten per cent. He would then have to charge a profit of twenty per cent. on each piece of his goods sold in his shop. When he moved a piece from his workshop to his shop, he would have to value it at the price he could have received from a dealer or shopkeeper buying wholesale. If he valued it lower, he would lose some of the profit on his manufacturing capital. When he sold it in his shop, he would likewise lose some of the profit on his shopkeeping capital unless he charged the same price another shopkeeper would. Thus he might appear to earn two profits on one piece of goods, but that piece passed through two separate uses of capital in turn. He earned only one profit on the total capital employed. If he earned less than his full profit, he lost out and used his total capital less advantageously than most of his neighbors.
The farmer was to some extent required to do what the manufacturer was forbidden to do: divide his capital between two businesses. He had to keep one part in granaries and the stack-yard to meet demand as it arose, while using the other to cultivate his land. But just as he could not afford to put the latter part to work for less than the ordinary profit on farming stock, he could not afford to use the former for less than the ordinary profit on trading stock. Whoever owned the stock used in the corn merchant's business—someone called a farmer or someone called a corn merchant—needed the same profit to make that investment worthwhile. He needed it to put the business on an equal footing with other trades and to avoid having a reason to move his capital elsewhere as soon as possible. So a farmer forced to act as a corn merchant could not afford to sell corn more cheaply than any other corn merchant would have to sell it under free competition.
A dealer who can devote all his stock to a single business has the same kind of advantage as a worker who can devote all his labor to a single task. The worker gains skill and can do far more with the same two hands. The dealer develops such a quick, efficient way of buying and selling goods that he can handle far more business with the same capital. Just as the worker can usually do his work much more cheaply, the dealer can usually sell his goods somewhat more cheaply than if he split his stock and attention among many things. Most manufacturers could not sell their own goods at retail as cheaply as an alert, energetic shopkeeper whose only work was buying wholesale and selling retail. Still fewer farmers could retail their own corn to a town's inhabitants, perhaps four or five miles from most of them, as cheaply as an alert, energetic corn merchant whose only work was buying corn wholesale, gathering it in a large storehouse, and reselling it at retail.
The law barring manufacturers from acting as shopkeepers tried to force this division of capital among businesses to happen faster than it otherwise would. The law requiring farmers to act as corn merchants tried to slow it down. Both laws plainly violated people's natural freedom and were therefore unjust. Both were also as bad in practice as they were unjust. Society benefits when this kind of change is neither forced nor obstructed. Someone who spreads his labor or stock across more activities than his circumstances require cannot harm his neighbor by charging less. He may harm himself, and usually does. A jack-of-all-trades will never be rich, as the saying goes. But the law should always let people look after their own interests. Given their local circumstances, they can usually judge those interests better than lawmakers can. Still, the law forcing farmers to act as corn merchants was 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
The law did more than prevent the division of stock among different trades, which benefits every society. It also held back the improvement and cultivation of land. By making a farmer carry on two businesses instead of one, it forced him to split his capital in two. Only one part could go into farming. If he had been free to sell his entire crop to a corn merchant as soon as he threshed it, he could have put all his capital straight back into the land. He could have bought more cattle and hired more workers to improve and cultivate it. Instead, he had to sell his grain to individual buyers. That meant keeping much of his capital tied up in his granaries and stack-yard throughout the year. He could not cultivate the land as well as he could have with the same capital. The law therefore necessarily held back the improvement of land. Rather than making grain cheaper, it tended to make grain scarcer and more expensive than it would otherwise have been.
After farming itself, the corn merchant’s trade would do the most to increase grain production if it were properly protected and encouraged. It would support farmers’ work in the same way that wholesale dealers support manufacturers.
A wholesale dealer gives a manufacturer a ready market. He takes the goods as quickly as they are made and sometimes even pays for them in advance. This lets the manufacturer keep all his capital, and sometimes more than that, continuously at work in manufacturing. He can therefore make far more goods than he could if he had to sell directly to consumers or even to retailers. A wholesale merchant also generally has enough capital to replace the capital of many manufacturers. Dealing with them gives the owner of a large capital an interest in supporting the owners of many small ones. He can help them through losses and setbacks that might otherwise ruin them.
If the same kind of regular dealings existed everywhere between farmers and corn merchants, farmers would benefit just as much. They could keep all their capital, and even more than their capital, continuously at work on the land. No business faces more accidents than theirs. When trouble came, their regular customer, a wealthy corn merchant, would both want and be able to help them. They would not, as they are now, depend entirely on the patience of their landlord or the mercy of his steward. Suppose such dealings could be established everywhere at once, though perhaps they cannot. Suppose all the farming stock in the kingdom could at once be put to its proper use, cultivating land, instead of being diverted to other uses. Suppose also that another stock, nearly as large, could at once be made available to support and assist those farming operations when needed. It is hard to imagine how great, widespread, and sudden the resulting improvement across the country would be.
The statute of Edward VI. tried to eliminate middlemen between grain growers and consumers as far as possible. It tried to wipe out a trade whose freedom is the best way both to ease the problems of a grain shortage and to prevent such a shortage in the first place. No trade except farming does as much to increase the grain crop as the corn merchant’s trade.
Later statutes made this law less strict. One after another, they allowed merchants to buy up grain for resale when the price of wheat was no more than 20s., then 24s., 32s., and 40s. the quarter. Finally, the 15th of Charles II. c.7 declared it lawful for anyone who was not a forestaller to buy grain for resale, so long as wheat cost no more than 48s. the quarter and other grain cost proportionate amounts. A forestaller was someone who resold grain in the same market within three months. This statute gave inland corn dealers all the freedom they have ever had. The statute of the twelfth of the present king repealed nearly all the other old laws against people who bought grain for resale or forestalled it. But it did not repeal the restrictions of this particular statute, which remain in force.
This statute, though, gives some support to two very foolish popular beliefs.
First, it assumes that when wheat reaches 48s. the quarter, with other grain rising in proportion, dealers may buy up enough grain to harm the public. But as I have already shown, inland dealers cannot buy up grain at any price in a way that harms the public. And while 48s. the quarter may be considered a very high price, it often occurs just after harvest in years of scarcity. At that point, hardly any of the new crop can have been sold. Even someone who knows nothing about the matter could not think that dealers had already bought up enough of it to harm the public.
Second, it assumes there is some price at which forestalling grain—buying it for resale soon afterward in the same market—is likely to harm the public. But suppose a merchant buys grain on its way to a particular market, or in that market, planning to resell it there soon. He must believe that supplies will not be as plentiful through the rest of the season as they are on that occasion, and that the price will soon rise. If he is wrong and the price does not rise, he loses not just all the profit he could have made from that stock, but some of the stock itself. Storing grain and keeping it in good condition cost money and cause losses. He harms himself much more than he can harm even the particular people he keeps from buying on that market day. They can buy just as cheaply on another market day. If he is right, he provides a very important service to the public instead of hurting it. People feel the effects of a shortage a little earlier than they otherwise would. This prevents them from feeling those effects much more severely later, as they certainly would if a low price led them to consume grain faster than the season’s actual scarcity allows. When grain really is scarce, the best thing for the public is to spread the hardship as evenly as possible over all the months, weeks, and days of the year. The corn merchant’s own interest makes him try to do this as precisely as he can. No one else has the same interest, knowledge, or ability to do it so precisely. This crucial part of commerce should therefore be left entirely to him. In other words, the corn trade should be completely free, at least when it comes to supplying the home market.
The public fear of dealers buying up and forestalling grain resembles the public fear and suspicion of witchcraft. People accused of witchcraft were no more responsible for the disasters blamed on them than the people accused of buying up or forestalling grain are responsible for the harm blamed on them. A law ended prosecutions for witchcraft. It stopped anyone from indulging a grudge by accusing a neighbor of an imaginary crime. By removing the main cause that encouraged and sustained those fears, it seems to have ended them effectively. A law giving complete freedom to the inland corn trade would probably be just as effective in ending the public fear of buying up and forestalling grain.
Despite its faults, the 15th of Charles II. c. 7 has perhaps done more than any other statute to supply the home market with grain and increase cultivation. It gave the inland corn trade all the freedom and protection it has ever enjoyed. Inland trade does far more than either importing or exporting to supply the home market and promote cultivation.
The author of the Tracts upon the Corn Trade estimates that the average quantity of all kinds of grain imported into Great Britain is no more than one part for every five hundred and seventy parts consumed there. For supplying the home market, then, inland trade must be five hundred and seventy times as important as importing.
According to the same author, the average quantity of all kinds of grain exported from Great Britain is no more than one-and-thirtieth of its annual production. By providing a market for grain grown at home, inland trade must therefore be thirty times as important for encouraging cultivation as exporting is.
I do not place much faith in political arithmetic, and I cannot vouch for either calculation’s accuracy. I mention them only to show that, in the opinion of the most sensible and experienced people, foreign corn trade matters far less than domestic trade. Grain was very cheap in the years just before the bounty was introduced. That may reasonably be due in part to this statute of Charles II., passed about five-and-twenty years earlier. It had had plenty of time to take effect.
A few words will explain all I need to say about the other three branches of the corn trade.
II. A merchant who imports foreign grain for people to consume at home clearly helps supply the home market right away. To that extent, the trade directly benefits most people. It does tend to lower the average money price of grain somewhat. But it does not lower grain’s real value, or the amount of labor that grain can support. If imports were always free, farmers and landowners here would probably receive less money for their grain on average than they do now, when imports are effectively banned most of the time. But the money they received would be worth more. It would buy more of every other kind of goods and employ more labor. Their real wealth and real revenue would therefore be the same as now, even if measured in less silver. They would be no less able or willing to grow as much grain as they do now. Indeed, when a lower money price of grain raises the real value of silver, the money price of all other goods also falls somewhat. This gives the country’s industry an advantage in foreign markets, encouraging it to grow. The size of the home market for grain depends on how much other work is done in the country where it grows. It depends on the number of people who produce other things and so have those things, or the money they bring, to exchange for grain. In every country the home market is not only the nearest and most convenient market for grain but also the largest and most important. Raising the real value of silver by lowering the average money price of grain therefore expands grain’s largest and most important market. It encourages grain production rather than discouraging it.
Under the 22d of Charles II. c. 13, imported wheat faced a duty of 16s. the quarter whenever the home-market price was no more than 53s:4d. the quarter, and a duty of 8s. whenever the price was no more than £4. For more than a century, the first of those prices has occurred only during very severe shortages. As far as I know, the second has not occurred at all. Yet this statute imposed a very high duty until wheat rose above the second price, and an effectively prohibitive duty until it rose above the first. Duties and price thresholds on imports of other kinds of grain were nearly as high in proportion to their value. Before the 13th of the present king, the duties on the different kinds of imported 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 came partly from the 22d of Charles II. in place of the old subsidy, and partly from the new subsidy, the one-third and two-thirds subsidy, and the subsidy 1747. Later laws raised the duties further.
In years of scarcity, strict enforcement of these laws could probably have caused people great suffering. In such years, however, temporary statutes generally suspended them and allowed foreign grain to be imported for a limited time. The need for those temporary statutes shows plainly how unsuitable the general law was.
These restrictions on imports came before the bounty, but the same thinking and principles lay behind both. Harmful as the import restrictions were, the bounty made these or similar restrictions necessary. If foreign grain could be imported duty-free or with only a small duty when wheat cost 48s. the quarter or less, or not much more, that grain could then be exported again to collect the bounty. The public revenue would suffer a great loss, and the policy’s purpose would be completely defeated. Its aim was to expand the market for grain grown at home, not grain grown abroad.
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. Merchants who export grain for people in other countries to eat do not directly help supply the home market. They do help indirectly. Whether a country usually gets its grain from its own farms or from imports, it must regularly grow or import more than it consumes if its home market is to have a plentiful supply. But farmers will avoid growing a surplus, and importers will avoid bringing one in, unless they can normally export it. They will supply only what the home market just needs. That market will rarely have too much grain and will generally have too little. The people who supply it will fear being left with unsold stock. Banning exports limits the cultivation and improvement of a country’s land to what its own people need. Free exports allow it to grow grain for people abroad as well.
The 12th of Charles II. c.4 permitted grain exports whenever wheat cost no more than 40s. the quarter and other grain cost proportionate amounts. The 15th of the same prince extended this permission until wheat rose above 48s. the quarter. The 22d extended it to all higher prices. Exporters did have to pay the king a duty based on value. But the official book of rates valued grain so low that the duty was only 1s. per quarter on wheat, 4d. on oats, and 6d. on every other grain. The 1st of William and Mary, which established the bounty, effectively removed this small duty whenever wheat cost no more than 48s. the quarter. The 11th and 12th of William III. c. 20 expressly removed it at all higher prices.
Export merchants were thus not only encouraged with a bounty but given much more freedom than inland dealers. Under the last of these statutes, grain could be bought up for export at any price. But it could be bought up for inland sale only when its price was no more than 48s. the quarter. As I have already shown, an inland dealer’s interest can never conflict with the interest of most people. An export merchant’s interest can, and sometimes does. If his own country had a grain shortage while a neighboring country had a famine, he might profit by sending so much grain abroad that the shortage at home became much worse. Plentiful supplies at home were not the direct aim of these statutes. Under the pretext of encouraging agriculture, they sought to raise the money price of grain as high as possible, and so cause as much ongoing scarcity at home as possible. By discouraging imports, they limited supplies for the home market to domestic crops even in severe shortages. By encouraging exports when the price was as high as 48s. the quarter, they kept some of those crops out of the home market even during considerable shortages. Great Britain has often had to pass temporary laws banning grain exports and removing import duties for a limited time. That repeated need clearly shows what is wrong with her general system. If the system worked well, she would not have had to depart from it so often.
If every country adopted free exports and free imports, the different states of a large continent would be much like the provinces of one large empire. Both reason and experience show that free trade between provinces is the best way to ease a grain shortage and the most effective way to prevent a famine. Free imports and exports between the states of a continent would do the same. The larger the continent, and the easier travel and shipping between its parts, the less likely any one area would suffer either disaster. An area with a shortage would be more likely to get help from an area with plenty. But very few countries have adopted this free system completely. Almost everywhere, the corn trade is restricted to some degree. In many countries, foolish regulations often turn the unavoidable hardship of a grain shortage into the terrible disaster of a famine. Their demand for grain can become so great and urgent that a neighboring small state, itself facing some shortage, cannot safely supply them without risking a famine of its own. One country’s very bad policy can thus make it dangerous and unwise for another to adopt what would otherwise be the best policy. Unlimited freedom to export would be much less dangerous in large states. They grow so much grain that likely exports could seldom affect supplies greatly. It might sometimes be necessary to restrict grain exports from a Swiss canton or one of the small Italian states. In a country as large as France or England, it could hardly ever be necessary. Moreover, stopping farmers from selling their goods in the best market is plainly a sacrifice of ordinary justice for supposed public benefit, a kind of reason of state. Such an act of legislative authority should be used, and can be excused, only in the most urgent need. If grain exports are ever prohibited at a particular price, that price should always be very high.
Grain laws everywhere can be compared with laws about religion. People care deeply both about having enough to live on in this life and about happiness in the next. So governments must give in to their prejudices and establish the systems they approve of to keep the peace. Perhaps that is why reasonable systems for either of these two vital matters are so rare.
IV. A merchant-carrier imports foreign grain in order to export it again. His trade helps provide a plentiful supply in the home market. Selling grain there is not his direct purpose. But he will generally be willing to sell it there, even for much less than he expects abroad, because doing so saves the costs of loading and unloading, freight, and insurance. People in a country that acts as a warehouse and distribution center for other countries through this carrying trade will very rarely run short themselves. The carrying trade lowers the average money price of grain in the home market. But that does not lower grain’s real value; it only raises the real value of silver somewhat.
High duties on foreign grain imports effectively banned the carrying trade in Great Britain in ordinary times. Most of those duties were not refunded when grain was exported again. In exceptional times, when shortages led temporary statutes to suspend the duties, exports were always banned. This set of laws thus effectively prohibited the carrying trade.
The laws associated with establishing the bounty therefore seem to deserve none of the praise they have received. Other causes readily explain Great Britain’s growth and prosperity, so often credited to those laws. British law assures every person that he can enjoy the product of his own labor. That assurance alone is enough to make any country thrive despite these and twenty other foolish trade regulations. It was made secure by the Revolution, at about the same time the bounty was established. When people are free and secure, their natural drive to improve their own condition is powerful enough, without any help, both to make society wealthy and prosperous and to overcome a hundred needless obstacles put in its way by foolish human laws. Those obstacles nevertheless always limit freedom or weaken security to some degree. In Great Britain, industry is entirely secure. Though it is far from entirely free, it is at least as free as industry anywhere else in Europe.
Great Britain’s greatest period of prosperity and improvement did come after the laws associated with the bounty. But that does not mean those laws caused it. It also came after the national debt, which certainly did not cause it.
The laws associated with the bounty tend to lower the value of precious metals somewhat in Great Britain, just as the practices of Spain and Portugal do in those countries. Yet Great Britain is certainly among Europe’s richest countries, while Spain and Portugal may be among its poorest. Two causes readily explain the difference. First, Spain taxes exports of gold and silver, and Portugal bans them. Both countries enforce these rules closely. They are very poor countries that together import upwards of six millions sterling every year. Their rules therefore lower the value of precious metals there more directly and much more powerfully than the corn laws can in Great Britain. Second, their bad policies are not offset by general freedom and security for their people. Industry there is neither free nor secure. The civil and religious governments of Spain and Portugal would themselves be enough to keep them poor, even if their trade regulations were sensible rather than, for the most part, absurd and foolish.
The 13th of the present king, c. 43 seems to have created a new system of corn laws. In many respects it is better than the old one, though in one or two respects it may not be quite as good.
Under this statute, the high duties on imports for domestic consumption end as soon as middling wheat reaches 48s. the quarter; middling rye, pease, or beans reaches 32s.; barley reaches 24s.; and oats reaches 16s. In their place there is a small duty of only 6d per quarter of wheat, with proportionate duties on other grain. Foreign supplies of all these grains, especially wheat, can thus enter the home market at much lower prices than before.
Under the same statute, the old export bounty of 5s. on wheat ends as soon as the price reaches 44s. the quarter, rather than 48s. as before. The export bounty of 2s:6d. on barley ends at 22s. instead of 24s. The export bounty of 2s:6d. on oatmeal ends at 14s. instead of 15s. The bounty on rye is cut from 3s:6d. to 3s., and ends at 28s. instead of 32s. If bounties are as unsuitable as I have tried to show, it is better for them to be lower and to end sooner.
The same statute allows grain to be imported duty-free even at the lowest prices if it is to be exported again, provided it is stored in a warehouse secured by locks held jointly by the king and the importer. This freedom applies to only twenty-five of Great Britain’s ports. But they are the principal ports, and most of the others may lack suitable warehouses.
In these respects the law clearly seems better than the old system.
But the same law offers an export bounty of 2s. the quarter on oats whenever the price is no more than fourteen shillings. No export bounty had ever been given for oats before, any more than for pease or beans.
The law also prohibits wheat exports as soon as the price reaches forty-four shillings the quarter, rye exports at twenty-eight shillings, barley exports at twenty-two shillings, and oats exports at fourteen shillings. All these price limits seem much too low. It also seems wrong to ban exports outright at exactly the prices where the bounty meant to encourage them ends. Either the bounty should have ended at a much lower price, or exports should have been allowed up to a much higher one.
In these respects, then, the law seems worse than the old system. Despite its faults, perhaps we can say of it what was said of Solon’s laws. It is not the best law in itself, but it is the best law the interests, prejudices, and attitudes of the time would permit. In due course, it may open the way to 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 Trade Treaties
When a nation signs a treaty agreeing to admit goods from one foreign country but not from others, or to spare that country’s goods from duties charged on all others, the favored country gains a major advantage. At least, its merchants and manufacturers do. They have a kind of monopoly in the country that favors them. That country becomes a larger and more profitable market for their goods. It is larger because rival nations’ goods are either barred or taxed more heavily, so more of the favored country’s goods are bought. It is more profitable because its merchants, with a kind of monopoly there, can often sell at higher prices than they could if every other nation were free to compete.
Such treaties may benefit merchants and manufacturers in the favored country, but they necessarily put those in the country granting the favor at a disadvantage. Their government gives a foreign country a monopoly at their expense. They often have to buy the foreign goods they need at higher prices than if sellers from other countries could compete freely. This means that the domestic goods exchanged for those foreign goods must fetch lower prices. When two things are traded for each other, one being cheap necessarily means, or really is the same thing as, the other being expensive. Every such treaty is therefore likely to reduce the exchange value of the country’s annual output. That reduction, though, is hardly likely to be an actual loss. It is a reduction in what the country might otherwise have gained. It may sell its goods at lower prices than it otherwise would, but probably not below their cost. Nor, as can happen with bounties, will it sell at a price that fails to replace the capital spent bringing them to market, along with the usual profit on stock. Such a trade could not continue for long. Even the country granting the favor may therefore gain from trade, though less than it would gain with free competition.
Other trade treaties have been considered useful for very different reasons. A trading country has sometimes granted foreign goods this kind of monopoly at its own expense because it expected to sell more to the foreign country each year than it bought from it. It expected to receive the difference in gold and silver each year. This is why people have so often praised the trade treaty between England and Portugal concluded in 1703 by Mr Methuen. Here is a literal translation of that treaty, which has only three articles.
ART. I. His sacred royal majesty of Portugal promises, for himself and his successors, that from now on Portugal will always admit British woolen cloth and other British woolen manufactures as it used to before the law prohibited them, on the following condition:
ART. II. Her sacred royal majesty of Great Britain must promise, for herself and her successors, always to admit wine produced in Portugal into Britain. Whether Britain and France are at peace or at war, the customs duty or any other charge, direct or indirect, on Portuguese wine imported into Great Britain in pipes, hogsheads, or other casks must never exceed the charge on the same quantity of French wine after one-third of that charge has been deducted. If anyone attempts to undermine this reduction in the duty, his sacred royal majesty of Portugal may lawfully ban British woolen cloth and other woolen manufactures again.
ART. III. The most excellent lords acting as plenipotentiaries promise to have their above-named rulers ratify this treaty and exchange ratifications within two months.
Under this treaty, Portugal’s crown must admit English woolen goods on the same terms as before the ban. It cannot raise the duties previously charged on them. But Portugal does not have to admit them on better terms than it grants any other country, such as France or Holland. Great Britain’s crown, by contrast, must admit Portuguese wine at only two-thirds of the duty charged on French wine, its most likely competitor. In this respect the treaty clearly benefits Portugal and harms Great Britain.
Yet people have hailed it as a masterpiece of England’s trade policy. Every year Portugal receives more gold from the Brazils than it can use in domestic trade as either coins or plate. The surplus is too valuable to leave idle in locked chests. Since it cannot find a profitable market at home, Portugal must send it abroad in exchange for something more valuable at home, regardless of any ban. Much of that gold comes to England each year in return for English goods or for goods from other European countries that receive payment through England. Mr Barretti was told that the weekly packet boat from Lisbon brings England more than £50,000 in gold in an average week. This figure was probably exaggerated. It would be more than £2,600,000 a year, exceeding what the Brazils are thought to produce.
Some years ago, our merchants were angry with the crown of Portugal. That crown had voluntarily granted them certain privileges, rather than promising them by treaty. It probably did so at Britain’s request, in return for much greater benefits in the form of help, defense, and protection from the British crown. Some of those privileges had been violated or withdrawn. The merchants who would normally be most eager to praise trade with Portugal were therefore inclined to say it was less beneficial than people generally thought. They claimed that by far the greater part, almost all, of this annual gold import came on account of other European countries, not Great Britain. The fruit and wine imported from Portugal into Great Britain each year, they said, nearly matched the value of British goods sent there.
But suppose all that gold did come on account of Great Britain and amounted to even more than Mr Barretti suggested. That would not make this trade better than another trade in which we sent out goods of the same value and received goods we could use of equal value in return.
Only a very small part of the imported gold can reasonably be thought to add each year to the country’s plate or coin. All the rest must go abroad in exchange for goods people can use. But England would benefit more by buying those goods directly with products made by English workers than by first using those products to buy Portuguese gold, then using the gold to buy the goods. Direct foreign trade in goods for consumption is always better than indirect trade. Bringing the same value of foreign goods to the home market requires much less capital by the direct route. England would therefore have been better off if less of its industry had made goods for Portugal and more had made goods for the other markets where British buyers’ desired goods are available. This way, it would need much less capital than it does now to obtain both the gold it needs for its own use and the goods people consume. Capital would be left over for other purposes, to put more people to work and increase annual production.
Even if Britain were completely shut out of trade with Portugal, it would have little trouble getting the gold it needs each year for plate, coin, and foreign trade. Like any other commodity, gold can always be obtained somewhere by people able to pay its price. Portugal’s annual gold surplus would still go abroad. If Britain did not take it, another country would, and would be happy to sell it again for its price, just as Britain now does. When we buy gold from Portugal, we buy it firsthand. If we bought it from any other nation except Spain, we would buy it secondhand and might pay a little more. But that difference is surely too small to concern the public.
Nearly all our gold, people say, comes from Portugal. Our trade balance 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 need to import from others. Like demand for any commodity, a country’s actual demand for gold is limited to a certain quantity. If nine-tenths comes from one country, only a tenth remains to come from all the others. Also, the more gold we import each year from particular countries beyond what we need for plate and coin, the more we must export to other countries. And the more the trade balance—that utterly unimportant concern of modern policy—seems to favor us with some countries, the more it must seem to go against us with many others.
England’s supposed inability to survive without Portuguese trade was a foolish idea. Yet near the end of the late war, France and Spain used it to demand that the king of Portugal keep all British ships out of his ports, although they claimed no injury or provocation. To guarantee the exclusion, they demanded that he admit French or Spanish garrisons into those ports. The king of Spain, his brother-in-law, proposed these humiliating terms. If the king of Portugal had accepted them, Britain would have escaped a burden far greater than losing Portuguese trade: having to support a very weak ally. He was so unprepared to defend himself that perhaps even the whole power of England, devoted to that single aim, could barely have protected him through one more campaign. Losing the Portuguese trade would certainly have created considerable difficulties for merchants then engaged in it. They might have needed a year or two to find another equally profitable use for their capitals. That would probably have been the full extent of the harm England suffered from this remarkable piece of trade policy.
The large annual imports of gold and silver are not mainly for plate or coin. They are for foreign trade. These metals make indirect foreign trade in goods for consumption more profitable than almost any other goods could. As universal tools of trade, they are accepted in exchange for other commodities more readily than any other goods. Because they pack great value into a small space, they also cost less to ship back and forth between places than almost any other kind of merchandise, and lose less value in transit. No commodities are therefore as convenient as gold and silver when purchased in one foreign country only to be sold or exchanged again for other goods in another. The main benefit of Portuguese trade is that it makes it easier for Great Britain to conduct its various indirect foreign trades in goods for consumption. Though not a major benefit, it is certainly a substantial one.
It seems clear that the amount of gold and silver needed each year to make any plausible addition to the kingdom’s plate or coins is very small. Even without direct trade with Portugal, we could easily get that small amount somewhere else.
Goldsmithing is a substantial trade in Great Britain. But most of the new plate goldsmiths sell each year is made by melting down old plate. The yearly increase in all the plate in the kingdom cannot therefore be very large, and requires 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 coins. I doubt anyone believes that even most of the coins minted each year were added to the money already circulating in the kingdom. For ten years before the recent reform of the gold coin, the annual minting of gold amounted to more than £800,000. Where the government pays for minting, a coin containing its full standard weight of gold or silver cannot be worth much more than the same amount of metal in bullion. Someone with uncoined metal need only take it to the mint and wait perhaps a few weeks to receive the same amount in coins. But in every country, most coins in circulation are almost always somewhat worn or otherwise below standard. In Great Britain before the recent reform, this was especially true: gold coins were more than two per cent. under standard weight, and silver coins more than eight per cent. under. Forty-four and a half guineas at full weight contain a pound weight of gold and could buy only slightly more than a pound weight of uncoined gold. Forty-four and a half underweight guineas could not buy a pound weight without an extra payment to make up the shortfall. So the market price of gold bullion was not the mint price of £46:14:6. It was then about £47:14s., and sometimes about £48. Yet when most coins were underweight, forty-four and a half guineas newly made at the mint bought no more goods than ordinary guineas. Once they entered a merchant's cash box and mixed with other coins, identifying them again took more trouble than the difference was worth. Like other guineas, they were worth only £46:14:6. Melt them down, however, and they yielded, with no noticeable loss, a pound weight of standard gold. That gold could always be sold for between £47:14s. and £48, in either gold or silver, and was as suitable for making coins as it had been before melting. Melting newly minted coins therefore brought an obvious profit, and happened so quickly that no government precaution could stop it. The mint's work was rather like Penelope's weaving: what was done by day was undone at night. Instead of adding much to the stock of coins each day, the mint mainly replaced the best coins, which were melted down each day.
If private people taking gold and silver to the mint had to pay for minting themselves, minting would add to the metals' value, just as workmanship adds value to silverware. Coined gold and silver would be worth more than uncoined metal. If the seignorage, or minting charge, was not excessive, it would add its full amount to the value of bullion. Since governments everywhere have the exclusive right to mint coins, coins cannot reach the market at a lower price than governments choose to charge. But an excessive charge—one much higher than the actual labor and expense of minting—could encourage counterfeiters at home and abroad. The large gap between the value of bullion and that of coins might lead them to supply so many false coins that the government's coins lost value. In France, however, the seignorage is eight per cent., and no noticeable problem of this kind has arisen. A counterfeiter living in the country whose coins he imitates faces serious risks, as do his agents or contacts if he lives abroad. Those risks are far too great for a profit of six or seven per cent.
In France, seignorage raises a coin's value beyond what the pure gold in it alone would justify. Under the edict of January 1726, the mint price for a mark of fine, twenty-four-carat gold—a mark being eight Paris ounces—was set at seven hundred and forty livres nine sous and one denier one-eleventh. [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 margin, French gold coins contain twenty-one and three-fourths carats of fine gold and two and one-fourth carats of alloy. A mark of gold at that standard is therefore worth only about six hundred and seventy-one livres ten deniers as bullion. But France mints that mark into thirty louis d’ors worth twenty-four livres each, or seven hundred and twenty livres altogether. Minting thus raises 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.
A seignorage will often eliminate the profit from melting new coins, and will always reduce it. That profit comes from the difference between the bullion ordinary coins should contain and the amount they actually contain. If the difference is smaller than the seignorage, melting causes a loss rather than a gain. If the two are equal, there is neither gain nor loss. If the difference is greater, some profit remains, but less than without seignorage. Suppose, for instance, there had been a five per cent. seignorage before the recent reform of the gold coin. Melting gold coins would have caused a three per cent. loss. At two per cent. seignorage there would have been neither profit nor loss. At one per cent., the profit would have been only one per cent. rather than two per cent. Wherever money is accepted by number rather than by weight, seignorage is therefore the most effective way to prevent coins from being melted down and, for the same reason, exported. The best and heaviest coins are usually melted or exported, since they offer the largest profits.
A law encouraging coinage by making it free of duty was first passed for a limited period under Charles II. Later extensions kept it in force until 1769, when it became permanent. The bank of England frequently has to take bullion to the mint to refill its cash reserves. Its directors probably thought it better for the government to bear the minting expense than for the bank to do so. The government probably made the law permanent to please this powerful company. But weighing gold coins is inconvenient, and the practice will likely fall out of use. If English gold coins are then accepted by number, as they were before the recent recoinage, the bank may discover that here, as on some other occasions, it badly misunderstood its own interest.
Before the recent recoinage, English gold coins in circulation were two per cent. below standard weight. With no seignorage, they were consequently worth two per cent. less than the amount of standard gold bullion they should have contained. Whenever the bank bought gold bullion to have it minted, it had to pay two per cent. more for that bullion than the resulting coins were worth. With a two per cent. seignorage, however, ordinary gold coins would have been worth as much as the standard quantity of gold they should have contained, despite being two per cent. underweight. In this case the value added by minting would have offset the loss of weight. The bank would indeed have had to pay two per cent. seignorage. Its total loss would still have been two per cent.—exactly what it actually lost, and no more.
If seignorage had been five per cent. while circulating gold coins were only two per cent. underweight, the bank would have gained three per cent. on the bullion price. But it would have paid five per cent. seignorage on minting, making its total loss exactly two per cent. again.
If seignorage had been only one per cent. and circulating gold coins two per cent. underweight, the bank would have lost only one per cent. on the bullion price. It would also have paid one per cent. seignorage, so its total loss would have been exactly two per cent., as in the other cases.
Suppose there were a reasonable seignorage and coins contained their full standard weight, as they have nearly done since the recent recoinage. Whatever the bank lost through seignorage, it would gain on the bullion price; whatever it gained on the bullion price, it would lose through seignorage. Overall it would neither gain nor lose. Here, as in the earlier cases, its position would be exactly the same as with no seignorage.
If a tax on a commodity is low enough not to encourage smuggling, the merchant selling it advances the tax but does not really pay it. The merchant gets it back in the commodity's price. The last purchaser or consumer ultimately pays. Money, however, is a commodity that everyone deals in. People acquire it only to pass it on again. In ordinary circumstances it has no last purchaser or consumer. If a minting tax is low enough not to encourage counterfeiting, everyone advances it, but nobody ultimately pays it. Each person recovers it through the coin's higher value.
A moderate seignorage, then, would never increase the expense borne by the bank or by other private people bringing bullion to the mint. Nor does having no moderate seignorage reduce their expense. Whether seignorage exists or not, minting costs nobody anything if coins have their full standard weight. If they fall short of it, minting always costs the difference between the bullion they ought to contain and the bullion they actually contain.
By paying for minting, the government bears a small expense and gives up the small revenue it could collect through a suitable charge. Neither the bank nor any other private party gains the slightest benefit from this pointless public generosity.
The bank's directors would probably hesitate to accept a seignorage based on an argument promising no gain, only protection from loss. With gold coins as they now are, and as long as they are accepted by weight, such a change would certainly bring them no gain. But weighing gold coins will likely fall out of use. If the coins then become as degraded as they were before the recent recoinage, a seignorage would probably save the bank a great deal. The bank of England is the only company that sends any substantial amount of bullion to the mint. It bears all, or nearly all, of the burden of annual coinage. If new coins were needed only to replace those unavoidably lost and those worn out in ordinary use, the annual amount minted would seldom exceed fifty thousand pounds, or at most a hundred thousand pounds. When coins fall below standard weight, however, the mint must also replace the large amounts continually removed from circulation by export and melting. For that reason, during the ten or twelve years immediately before the recent gold-coin reform, annual coinage averaged more than £850,000. A seignorage of four or five per cent. on gold coins would probably have stopped both exporting and melting effectively, even under the conditions then prevailing. Instead of losing about two and a half per cent. each year on bullion minted into more than eight hundred and fifty thousand pounds—an annual loss of more than £21,250 pounds—the bank would probably have lost less than a tenth as much.
Parliament assigns only fourteen thousand pounds a year to cover minting costs. I am told that the actual cost to the government, or the mint officers' fees, normally does not exceed half that amount. Saving such a small sum, or gaining another sum unlikely to be much larger, might seem too minor to warrant serious government attention. But saving eighteen or twenty thousand pounds a year if an event occurs that is quite possible, has often happened before, and is likely to happen again surely deserves serious attention, even from a company as large as the bank of England.
Some of these arguments and observations might have fit better in the chapters of the first book about the origin and use of money and the difference between real and nominal commodity prices. But the law promoting coinage comes from the common prejudices introduced by the mercantile system. I thought it better to keep the discussion for this chapter. Nothing suits that system better than a kind of bounty for producing money, the very thing it imagines makes every nation wealthy. This is one of its many remarkable devices for enriching a 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. Reasons for Establishing New Colonies.
The reason the first European colonies were settled in America and the West Indies was not as clear-cut as the reason for founding the colonies of ancient Greece and Rome.
Each of the ancient Greek states had only a small territory. When its population grew too large for that territory to support easily, it sent some people to find a new home in a distant part of the world. Warlike neighbors surrounded these states, making it hard to expand much at home. Colonists from the Dorians mainly went to Italy and Sicily. Before Rome was founded, those places were inhabited by peoples the Greeks considered barbarous and uncivilized. Colonists from the Ionians and Aeolians, the other two major Greek peoples, went to Asia Minor and the islands of the Aegean sea. Their inhabitants seem to have been in much the same condition as the inhabitants of Sicily and Italy at the time. The mother city regarded its colony as a child entitled to help and favor, and expected gratitude and respect in return. Yet it regarded the colony as a child that had come of age, over whom it claimed no direct power or legal authority. The colony set up its own government, made its own laws, elected its own officials, and made peace or war with its neighbors. It acted as an independent state and needed no approval or consent from the mother city. The reason for founding such colonies could hardly be clearer.
Like most other ancient republics, Rome was originally founded under a law dividing public land among its citizens in fixed proportions. Marriage, inheritance, and transfers of property inevitably disrupted that original division. Land meant to support many families often ended up in one person's hands. To correct what was regarded as a problem, a law limited each citizen's landholding to five hundred jugera, about 350 English acres. Yet although records say the law was enforced on one or two occasions, it was otherwise neglected or evaded. Inequality of wealth kept growing. Most citizens owned no land, and the customs of the time made it hard for a free man without land to support himself independently. Today a poor man who owns no land but has a little stock can rent someone else's land to farm or run a small retail business. Without any stock, he can work as a rural laborer or an artisan. In ancient Rome, however, slaves worked the rich people's land under overseers who were also slaves. A poor free man thus had little chance of work as a farmer or laborer. Slaves of the rich also conducted every trade and manufacture, including retail trade, for their masters' benefit. Their masters' wealth, authority, and protection made it difficult for a poor free man to compete with them. Landless citizens therefore had almost no means of living except gifts from candidates in the annual elections. When tribunes wanted to stir the people against the rich and powerful, they reminded them of the original division of land. They described the law limiting private landownership as the republic's fundamental law. The people loudly demanded land, while the wealthy were, we may be sure, firmly resolved not to surrender any of their own. To satisfy the people somewhat, the wealthy often proposed a new colony. But even then, victorious Rome did not have to send its citizens out to seek their fortunes across the world with no idea where they would settle. It usually allotted them land in conquered parts of Italy. Since these lands remained within the republic, the settlements could never become independent states. At most, they were a kind of local corporation, able to make its own bylaws but always subject to the mother city's correction, courts, and lawmaking authority. Sending out this kind of colony partly satisfied the people and often provided a garrison in a recently conquered province whose obedience might otherwise be uncertain. A Roman colony was therefore wholly different from a Greek one, both in its nature and in the reasons for establishing it. Accordingly, the original words for the two kinds of settlement mean quite different things. The Latin word (colonia) simply means a plantation. The Greek word (apoixia) means leaving one's dwelling, departing from home, or going out of the house. Despite their many differences, however, Greek and Roman colonies were founded for equally clear reasons. Both arose from urgent necessity or an obvious practical benefit.
No necessity drove the creation of European colonies in America and the West Indies. Though the benefits that have followed have been very great, they are not nearly so obvious. People did not understand those benefits when the colonies were first founded. The benefits did not motivate either their founding or the discoveries that led to it. Perhaps even today the nature, extent, and limits of those benefits are not well understood.
In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the Venetians made a very profitable trade in spices and other East India goods, distributing them to Europe's other nations. They bought most of these goods in Egypt, then ruled by the Mamelukes. The Mamelukes were enemies of the Turks, as were the Venetians. Their shared interest, backed by Venetian money, created a relationship that gave Venice nearly a monopoly of the trade.
The Venetians' large profits stirred Portuguese greed. Throughout the fifteenth century, the Portuguese had tried to find a sea route to the countries from which the Moors brought ivory and gold dust across the desert. They discovered the Madeiras, the Canaries, the Azores, the Cape de Verd islands, the coast of Guinea, and the coasts of Loango, Congo, Angola, and Benguela, and finally the Cape of Good Hope. They had long wanted a share of the Venetians' profitable trade. The last discovery seemed likely to give them one. In 1497, Vasco de Gamo left Lisbon with four ships and reached the coast of Indostan after eleven months at sea. He thus completed a series of discoveries pursued steadily, with very few interruptions, for almost a century.
Some years earlier, while Europe was still waiting to see whether the Portuguese plans would succeed, a Genoese pilot devised an even bolder plan: sail west to the East Indies. Europeans then had only a vague idea where those countries were. The few European travelers who had visited them had exaggerated the distance. Perhaps they did so through simple ignorance: a distance that was truly vast seemed almost infinite to people unable to measure it. Or perhaps they wanted their journeys to such remote regions to sound even more marvelous. Columbus quite reasonably concluded that the longer the route to the Indies by the east, the shorter it would be by the west. He therefore proposed going west as the shortest and safest route, and succeeded in persuading Isabella of Castile that his plan was likely to work. He sailed from Palos in August 1492, nearly five years before Vasco de Gamo left Portugal. After a voyage of between two and three months, he discovered first some small Bahama or Lucyan islands and then the large island of St. Domingo.
But the lands Columbus found, on that voyage or on any later one, were nothing like the places he was seeking. Instead of the wealth, cultivated land, and dense population of China and Indostan, he found in St. Domingo and every other part of the new world he visited only forested, uncultivated land inhabited by a few peoples whom he saw as naked and desperately poor savages. Even so, he was reluctant to believe these were not among the countries described by Marco Polo, the first European to visit, or at least leave any account of, China or the East Indies. The slightest likeness could bring Columbus back to his favorite belief in spite of the clearest contrary evidence. For example, he thought Cibao, the name of a mountain in St. Domingo, resembled Cipange, a name used by Marco Polo. In letters to Ferdinand and Isabella, he called his discoveries the Indies. He had no doubt that they lay at the far edge of the countries Marco Polo described, not far from the Ganges or the lands Alexander conquered. Even after becoming convinced that they were different lands, he continued to hope the rich countries were nearby. On a later voyage he searched for them along the coast of Terra Firma toward the Isthmus of Darien.
Because of Columbus's mistake, the name Indies has stayed with those unfortunate countries ever since. Once it became clear that the newly discovered lands were completely different from the old Indies, the new ones were called the West Indies to distinguish them from the East Indies.
Columbus needed to convince the Spanish court that the lands he had found, whatever they might be, were very important. Yet in the things that make up a country's real wealth—what its land produces in animals and plants—there was then little to support that claim.
The cori, an animal somewhere between a rat and a rabbit, was the largest live-bearing four-legged animal in St. Domingo. Mr Buffon supposed it was the same as the Brazilian aperea. It never seems to have been very numerous, and Spanish dogs and cats are said to have almost wiped it out long ago, along with some even smaller kinds of animals. These creatures and a fairly large lizard called the ivana or iguana made up most of the animal food provided by the land.
The inhabitants did not grow a great deal of plant food because they put little effort into cultivation. But it was not quite so scarce as their animal food. It included Indian corn, yams, potatoes, bananas, etc. These plants were then completely unknown in Europe. Even since then, Europeans have not valued them very highly or thought they provide as much nourishment as the usual grains and beans cultivated there from time immemorial.
Cotton did supply material for a very important manufacture. To Europeans at that time it was certainly the most valuable plant product of those islands. Yet although muslins and other East Indian cotton goods were highly prized throughout Europe at the end of the fifteenth century, Europeans themselves did not manufacture cotton anywhere. Even cotton, then, could not have seemed very important to them at the time.
Finding nothing in the animals or plants of the newly discovered lands to support a highly favorable account, Columbus turned to minerals. He hoped that the wealth of this third kind of product would fully make up for the small value of the other two. The inhabitants wore small pieces of gold as ornaments, and he learned that they often found them in streams flowing down from the mountains. That was enough to convince him the mountains held extremely rich gold mines. He therefore described St. Domingo as rich in gold and, according to the prejudices of both his day and ours, an inexhaustible source of real wealth for the crown and kingdom of Spain. When he returned from his first voyage, he was presented with something like a triumph to the rulers of Castile and Arragon. The main products of the lands he had found were carried before him in a formal procession. The only valuable ones were a few small gold bands, bracelets, and other ornaments, and some bales of cotton. The rest merely excited ordinary wonder and curiosity: some unusually large reeds, beautifully colored birds, and stuffed skins of the enormous alligator and manati. Six or seven of the unfortunate native people walked ahead of all these. Their unusual color and appearance greatly increased the novelty of the display.
After hearing Columbus's account, the council of Castile decided to seize lands whose inhabitants clearly could not defend themselves. The declared religious aim of converting them to Christianity gave a holy cover to the injustice of the plan. The only motive for carrying it out, however, was the hope of finding gold. To make that motive still stronger, Columbus proposed that half of all gold and silver found there go 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
While the first adventurers got all, or most, of the gold they brought to Europe by simply robbing people unable to defend themselves, even this heavy tax may not have been too hard to pay. But the inhabitants of St. Domingo and every other land Columbus discovered were completely stripped of their possessions in six or eight years. To find more gold, the adventurers had to dig in mines. Then paying the tax became impossible. Strict collection of the tax is said to have caused the mines of St. Domingo to be abandoned entirely at first. They have never been worked since. The tax was soon cut to a third, then a fifth, later a tenth, and finally a twentieth of the total output of the gold mines. The tax on silver stayed at a fifth of total output for a long time. Only during the present century was it reduced to a tenth. But the first adventurers seem to have cared little about silver. Nothing less valuable than gold seemed worth their notice.
The same motive seems to have driven every later Spanish venture in the New World. A supposedly sacred thirst for gold brought Ovieda, Nicuessa, and Vasco Nugnes de Balboa to the Isthmus of Darien; Cortes to Mexico; and Almagro and Pizarro to Chili and Peru. On reaching an unfamiliar coast, these adventurers always first asked whether gold could be found there. They decided whether to leave or settle the land based on the answer.
Many costly, uncertain ventures bankrupt most of the people who undertake them. Searching for new gold and silver mines may be the most ruinous of all. It may be the worst lottery in the world: the few people who win gain least in comparison with the losses suffered by the many who lose. The prizes are few, the losing tickets many, and the usual price of a ticket is a very rich person's entire fortune. Mining ventures commonly consume both the capital invested and the ordinary profit that stock should earn, instead of returning either. A sensible lawmaker seeking to increase the nation's capital would therefore be especially unwilling to give mining special encouragement or direct more capital to it than would go there on its own. In fact, nearly everyone has such unreasonable confidence in personal good luck that, wherever there is even a slight chance of success, too much capital tends to go into mining without any encouragement.
Sound judgment based on reason and experience has always been very unfavorable to such schemes, but greed usually judges them quite differently. The same passion that gave many people the ridiculous idea of a philosopher's stone gave others the equally ridiculous idea of immensely rich gold and silver mines. They forgot that these metals have always been valuable, in every nation, mainly because they are scarce. They are scarce because nature has placed very little of them together in any one spot and has almost everywhere enclosed those small amounts in hard, stubborn material. Reaching them therefore requires labor and expense everywhere. Yet people imagined that in many places gold and silver veins might be as large and rich as veins of lead, copper, tin, or iron commonly are. Sir Waiter Raleigh's dream of the golden city and land of El Dorado shows that even wise men can fall for such strange illusions. More than a hundred years after his death, the Jesuit Gumila still believed that marvelous country was real. He spoke warmly—and, I am sure, sincerely—about how happy he would be to bring the gospel to people who could so generously reward their missionary's devoted work.
Today no known gold or silver mines in the lands first discovered by the Spaniards are considered worth working. Reports probably greatly exaggerated both the gold and silver the first adventurers found there and the richness of the mines worked just after the discovery. Yet the reported finds were enough to stir the greed of their fellow Spaniards. Every Spaniard who sailed to America expected an El Dorado. This time, as on very few others, fortune partly fulfilled the extravagant hopes of those who trusted it. The discovery and conquest of Mexico and Peru, about thirty and forty years respectively after Columbus's first voyage, brought them something fairly close to the abundance of precious metals they sought.
A plan to trade with the East Indies thus led to the first discovery of the West Indies. A plan for conquest then led to all the Spanish settlements in those newly discovered lands. The conquerors were driven by the prospect of gold and silver mines. A chain of events no one could have foreseen made their plan much more successful than they had any reasonable grounds to expect.
The first settlers from Europe's other nations who tried to establish themselves in America were inspired by similarly fanciful hopes, but were less successful. More than a hundred years passed after the first settlement of the Brazils before any silver, gold, or diamond mines were discovered there. None have yet been found in the English, French, Dutch, or Danish colonies, or at least none now thought worth working. Even so, the first English settlers in North America offered the king a fifth of any gold and silver found there to persuade him to grant their patents. The patents of Sir Waiter Raleigh, the London and Plymouth companies, the council of Plymouth, etc. accordingly reserved that fifth for the crown. These first settlers also hoped to discover a north-west passage to the East Indies as well as gold and silver mines. So far, neither hope has been fulfilled.
Part II. Causes of the Prosperity of New Colonies.
When a colony from a civilized nation takes over land lying unused, or land so sparsely inhabited that the native people easily make way for new settlers, it grows rich and powerful faster than any other human society.
Colonists bring knowledge of farming and other useful skills. That knowledge is greater than what could develop on its own in many centuries among peoples they regard as savage and barbarous. They also bring habits of following authority and some understanding of the organized government, laws, and administration of justice in their home country. They naturally set up something similar in their new settlement. Among peoples without these institutions, law and government develop on their own even more slowly than useful skills do once law and government are sufficiently established to protect those skills. Each colonist gets more land than he could possibly cultivate. He pays no rent and hardly any taxes. No landlord takes a share of his harvest, and the ruler's share is generally tiny. He has every reason to produce as much as possible, since nearly all the output will be his. But his land is usually so extensive that, even with all his own work and all the workers he can hire, he can seldom produce a tenth of what the land could yield. He therefore looks everywhere for laborers and offers them very generous wages. Those high wages, along with abundant cheap land, soon enable the workers to leave him and become landowners themselves. They in turn pay equally generous wages to other workers, who soon leave for the same reason. Good pay encourages marriage. Children are properly fed and cared for when young. Once they grow up, the value of their work far exceeds what it cost to raise them. At maturity, high wages and cheap land let them establish themselves as their fathers did.
In other countries, rent and profit reduce what is available for wages. Landowners and those who earn profits—the two higher groups—oppress workers, the lower group. In new colonies, those two higher groups have an interest in treating workers more generously and humanely, at least when the workers are not enslaved. Very fertile land that has not been cultivated can be bought for almost nothing. Its owner, who is also the person developing it, expects to raise its output and so increase his revenue. The resulting profit is usually very large in these circumstances. But he cannot earn it without other people's labor to clear and cultivate the land. New colonies generally have a great deal of land and very few people, making workers hard to find. The owner therefore does not bargain over wages and is willing to hire workers at any price. High wages encourage population growth. Cheap, plentiful good land encourages improvement and lets owners pay those high wages. Wages make up nearly the whole cost of acquiring and developing the land. They are high as wages, but low as the price paid for something so valuable. Anything that encourages population growth and improvement also encourages real wealth and power.
Many ancient Greek colonies accordingly seem to have become rich and powerful quite quickly. Within a century or two, several apparently matched or even surpassed their mother cities. By all accounts, Syracuse and Agrigentum in Sicily, Tarentum and Locri in Italy, and Ephesus and Miletus in Lesser Asia were at least the equal of any city in ancient Greece. Though founded later, they developed the refined arts, philosophy, poetry, and public speaking just as early and to just as high a level as anywhere in the mother country. Remarkably, the schools of the two earliest Greek philosophers, Thales and Pythagoras, arose not in ancient Greece itself but in colonies—one in Asia, the other in Italy. All these colonies settled in lands inhabited by peoples the Greeks considered savage and barbarous, who easily made way for the settlers. They had plenty of good land. And because they were completely independent of their mother cities, they could run their affairs as they judged best for themselves.
The record of Roman colonies is nowhere near as impressive. Some, including Florence, became important states many centuries later, after their mother city fell. But none seem ever to have developed especially fast. They were all founded in conquered provinces, most of which were already fully populated. Colonists rarely received very much land. Because the colonies were not independent, their inhabitants could not always run their affairs as they thought best.
In their supply of good land, Europe's colonies in America and the West Indies resemble—and far surpass—the colonies of ancient Greece. Their dependence on their mother countries resembles that of Roman colonies. But their great distance from Europe has reduced the effects of that dependence to some degree everywhere. It makes them less visible to and less subject to the power of their mother countries. Often their attempts to pursue their own interests have gone unnoticed because Europeans knew nothing about them or did not understand them. At other times Europeans simply allowed them, because the distance made interference difficult. Even Spain's harsh, arbitrary government has often had to withdraw or soften orders for its colonies for fear of a general uprising. As a result, all the European colonies have made great advances 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
From the very beginning of its colonies, the Spanish crown received revenue from its share of their gold and silver. This kind of revenue also stirred up extravagant hopes of even greater wealth in people eager for riches. So Spain paid a great deal of attention to its colonies from the start, while other European countries largely neglected theirs for a long time. Spain’s colonies may not have done better because of that attention, and the others may not have done worse because of that neglect. Compared with the amount of land they occupy, the Spanish colonies are considered less populous and prosperous than the colonies of almost any other European nation. Even so, their growth in population and the development of their land have certainly been very great and very fast. According to Ulloa, Lima, a city founded after the conquest, had fifty thousand inhabitants near thirty years ago. The same writer says Quito, once a miserable Indian hamlet, had just as many inhabitants in his day. Gemel i Carreri is said to have falsely claimed to be a traveler, but he seems to have drawn on excellent information everywhere. He says the city of Mexico had a hundred thousand inhabitants. Despite all the exaggeration by Spanish writers, that is probably more than five times its population under Montezuma. All these figures are far above 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 suitable for pulling loads. The lama was their only pack animal, and it seems to have been much weaker than an ordinary ass. They did not know the plow or the use of iron. They had no coins and no other standard medium of commerce. They traded by barter. Their main farming tool was a kind of wooden spade. They used sharp stones as knives and hatchets, and fish bones and the tough sinews of certain animals as sewing needles. These seem to have been their principal tools for their work. With such tools, it seems impossible that either empire could have developed and cultivated its land as much as it has today. They now have plenty of every kind of European cattle, as well as iron, the plow, and many European skills. But a country’s population must correspond to how far its land has been developed and cultivated. Despite the cruel destruction of native people after the conquest, these two great empires probably have more inhabitants now than ever before. The people are certainly very different, too. I think we must acknowledge that Spanish creoles are in many respects superior to the ancient Indians.
After the Spanish settlements, Portugal’s settlement in Brazil is the oldest established by a European nation in America. For a long time after its discovery, no gold or silver mines were found there. Because it brought little or no revenue to the crown, Portugal largely neglected it for many years. During this period of neglect it grew into a large and powerful colony. While Spain ruled Portugal, the Dutch attacked Brazil and captured seven of its fourteen provinces. They expected to take the other seven soon, but Portugal regained its independence when the family of Braganza took the throne. The Dutch were enemies of Spain and so became friends of Portugal, which was also Spain’s enemy. They agreed to leave the unconquered part of Brazil to Portugal’s king. He agreed to let them keep the part they had captured, since it seemed hardly worth quarreling about with such useful allies. But the Dutch government soon began to oppress the Portuguese colonists. Instead of merely complaining, the colonists took up arms against their new rulers. Through their own courage and determination, they drove the Dutch out of Brazil. Their home country quietly allowed this but gave them no openly acknowledged help. The Dutch saw they could not hold any of the country and accepted its complete return to Portugal’s crown. This colony is said to contain more than six hundred thousand people: Portuguese people and their descendants, creoles, mulattoes, and people of mixed Portuguese and Brazilian descent. No single colony in America is thought to contain as many people of European descent.
Toward the end of the fifteenth century and during most of the sixteenth, Spain and Portugal were the two great naval powers on the ocean. Venice traded throughout Europe, but its fleet had hardly ever sailed beyond the Mediterranean. Spain claimed all America on the grounds that it had discovered it first. It could not keep a great naval power like Portugal from settling in Brazil. But Spain’s name inspired such fear at the time that most other European nations were afraid to establish themselves anywhere else on that huge continent. The Spaniards murdered all the French who tried to settle in Florida. Then Spain’s naval power declined after the defeat or failure of the fleet it called its invincible armada, toward the end of the sixteenth century. It could no longer block other European settlements. During the seventeenth century, therefore, the English, French, Dutch, Danes, and Swedes—all the major nations with ocean ports—tried to establish settlements in the new world.
The Swedes settled in New Jersey. The Swedish families still found there are good evidence that the colony was likely to prosper if Sweden had protected it. Sweden neglected it instead, and the Dutch colony of New York soon absorbed it. New York itself came under English rule in 1674.
The small islands of St. Thomas and Santa Cruz are the only places in the new world the Danes have ever owned. An exclusive company governed these small settlements. It alone had the right to buy the colonies’ surplus produce and to supply the foreign goods they needed. It therefore had both the power and the strongest incentive to exploit the colonists when buying and selling. Government by an exclusive company of merchants may be the worst possible government for any country. Still, it did not stop these colonies from growing altogether, although it made their growth 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 governed by an exclusive company. Some of them made considerable progress compared with nearly any country settled long ago. But their progress was slow and weak compared with that of most new colonies. Surinam is an important colony, yet it remains smaller than most other European nations’ sugar colonies. Nova Belgia, now divided into New York and New Jersey, probably would soon have grown important even if it had stayed under Dutch rule. Abundant cheap good land is such a powerful source of prosperity that even the worst government can hardly prevent it from having some effect. The great distance from the mother country would also let colonists evade the company’s monopoly to some extent through smuggling. At present the company lets all Dutch ships trade with Surinam if they pay two and a-half per cent. of their cargo’s value for a license. It keeps only the direct trade from Africa to America for itself, almost all of which is the slave trade. This easing of its exclusive privileges is probably the main reason for the colony’s present degree of prosperity. Curacoa and Eustatia, the two main Dutch islands, are free ports open to every nation’s ships. That freedom has made these two barren islands prosper among better colonies whose ports are open to only one nation.
For most of the last century and part of this one, an exclusive company governed the French colony of Canada. Under such an unfavorable administration, it necessarily grew very slowly compared with other new colonies. Its growth became much faster when the company was dissolved after the collapse of the so-called Mississippi scheme. When the English took possession of Canada, they found nearly twice as many inhabitants as father Charlevoix had reported between twenty and thirty years earlier. That Jesuit had traveled throughout the country and had no desire to make it look less important than it really was.
Pirates and freebooters established the French colony of St. Domingo. For a long time they neither needed France’s protection nor recognized its authority. When these bandits became enough like citizens to recognize that authority, France still had to exercise it very gently for many years. During that period the colony’s population and development grew very quickly. An exclusive company later governed it for a time, along with all the other French colonies. Its oppression certainly slowed growth but could not stop it entirely. Prosperity resumed as soon as the colony was freed from that oppression. It is now the most important sugar colony in the West Indies, and its output is said to exceed that of all the English sugar colonies combined. The other French sugar colonies are generally very prosperous too.
No colonies, however, have grown faster than the English colonies in North America.
Plenty of good land and freedom to run their own affairs in their own way seem to be the two main causes of prosperity in every new colony.
The English colonies of North America certainly have plenty of good land. But they have less than the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, and no more than some colonies the French held before the late war. English colonial institutions, however, have done more to encourage the development and cultivation of that land than those of the other three nations.
First, English colonies have done more than any others to limit the accumulation of uncultivated land in a few hands, though they have not stopped it entirely. Colonial law requires every landowner to improve and cultivate a certain portion of the land within a set time. If an owner fails, someone else can be granted the neglected land. The law may not have been enforced very strictly, but it has had some effect.
Secondly, Pennsylvania does not give all inherited land to the firstborn child. Like movable property, land is divided equally among all the family’s children. In three New England provinces, the oldest child gets only a double share, as under Mosaic law. So even if someone in those provinces accumulates too much land, it will probably be divided up again in a generation or two. The other English colonies do follow the English rule favoring the firstborn. But throughout the English colonies, land is held by free soccage, a form of ownership that makes it easy to sell. Someone granted a large tract usually finds it profitable to sell most of it as soon as possible and keep only a small quit-rent. In the Spanish and Portuguese colonies, the rule called majorazzo governs the inheritance of all great estates tied to a title of honor. Each whole estate goes to one person and is effectively locked into the family, unable to be sold. French colonies follow the custom of Paris, which gives younger children a much better share of inherited land than English law does. But if any part of an estate held under the noble terms of chivalry and homage is sold in a French colony, the superior’s heir or the family’s heir has a right to buy it back for a limited period. All the country’s largest estates are held on these noble terms, which necessarily make sales harder. In a new colony, however, selling a large uncultivated estate is likely to divide it far more quickly than inheritance does. As already noted, abundant cheap good land is the principal cause of a new colony’s rapid prosperity. When people accumulate large holdings, they effectively take away that abundance and low price. The accumulation of uncultivated land also presents the greatest obstacle to improving it. Yet labor spent improving and cultivating land produces the greatest and most valuable output for society. Its output pays not just the workers’ wages and the profit on the stock that employs them, but rent on the land where they work as well. More English colonial labor is therefore spent improving and cultivating land. It is likely to produce a larger and more valuable output than labor in the colonies of the other three nations, where large landholdings divert it to other work to one degree or another.
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, the English colonists’ labor is likely to produce more, and more valuable, output. Because their taxes are moderate, they also keep a larger share of that output. They can save it and use it to employ still more labor. English colonists have never contributed anything toward defending the mother country or supporting its civil government. Instead, the mother country has so far paid for almost all of their defense. Fleets and armies, however, cost vastly more than ordinary civil government. The colonies’ own civil governments have always been very inexpensive. Their costs have generally covered adequate salaries for governors, judges, and a few other officials charged with maintaining order, along with a few of the most useful public works. Before the present disturbances began, the civil government of Massachusetts Bay used to cost only about £18;000 a-year. New Hampshire and Rhode Island each cost £3500; Connecticut, £4000; New York and Pennsylvania, £4500 each; New Jersey, £1200; and Virginia and South Carolina, £8000 each. Parliament’s annual grants partly pay for civil government in Nova Scotia and Georgia. Nova Scotia also contributes about £7000 a-year toward its own public expenses, and Georgia about £2500 a-year. In short, before the present disturbances began, all the civil governments in North America together cost their inhabitants no more than £64,700 a-year, apart from Maryland and North Carolina, for which exact figures are unavailable. It is a memorable example of how three millions of people can be governed, and governed well, at so little cost. The mother country has, of course, consistently paid the largest part of government costs: defense and protection. Colonial civil ceremonies, such as welcoming a new governor or opening a new assembly, are proper enough but involve no costly show or display. Their church governments are equally economical. They have no tithes, and their relatively few clergy live on modest salaries or voluntary contributions. By contrast, the governments of Spain and Portugal get some financial support from taxes on their colonies. France has never received much revenue from its colonies: the taxes it collects there are generally spent there. But all three countries run their colonial governments on a much larger scale, with far more expensive ceremonies. The sums spent to welcome a new viceroy of Peru, for example, have often been enormous. Rich colonists pay for these ceremonies as real taxes on those occasions. The ceremonies also teach them to spend extravagantly on appearances at all other times. Besides being very burdensome one-time taxes, they help establish still more burdensome, continuing taxes of the same kind: the ruinous cost of private luxury and extravagance. Church government is also extremely oppressive in all three nations’ colonies. All collect tithes, and the Spanish and Portuguese colonies collect them with the greatest severity. All are further burdened with large numbers of begging friars. Religion not only permits their begging but makes it sacred. It places a very heavy burden on poor people, who are carefully taught that giving to the friars is a duty and refusing them charity a very great sin. On top of this, the clergy are the largest accumulators of land in all these colonies.
Fourthly, the English colonies have had more favorable treatment and access to a wider market than any other European nation’s colonies when selling the produce left over after their own consumption. Every European nation has tried, to some extent, to keep its colonies’ commerce for itself. Each has therefore barred foreign ships from trading with its colonies and barred its colonies from buying European goods from foreign nations. But nations have enforced these monopolies in very different ways.
Some countries have handed all their colonial commerce to an exclusive company. Colonists had to buy every European good they needed from that company and sell it all their surplus produce. The company therefore had an interest in charging as much as possible for the goods and paying as little as possible for the produce. Even at its low buying price, it had an interest in buying only as much produce as it could sell at a very high price in Europe. It benefited both from lowering the value of the colonies’ surplus produce in every case and, in many cases, from holding down the natural growth of its quantity. If you wanted to stunt a new colony’s natural growth, you could hardly devise a more effective method than an exclusive company. The Dutch followed this policy, although during the present century their company has given up the exercise of many of its exclusive rights. Denmark followed it until the reign of its late king. France has followed it at times. And since 1755 Portugal has adopted it for at least two of Brazil’s chief provinces, Pernambucco and Marannon, even after every other nation had abandoned it as absurd.
Other countries did not set up an exclusive company but restricted all colonial commerce to one port in the mother country. Ships could leave that port only with a fleet in a designated season or, if sailing alone, with a special license that usually cost a great deal. This system did allow anyone from the mother country to trade with the colonies, as long as they used the right port, season, and vessels. But the various merchants combining their stocks to equip licensed vessels would find it profitable to cooperate. Their trade would therefore operate on much the same principles as an exclusive company’s. Their profit would be nearly as excessive and oppressive. Colonists would receive inadequate supplies and would have to buy at very high prices and sell at very low ones. Until a few years ago, Spain always followed this policy. Accordingly, European goods were said to cost enormous amounts in the Spanish West Indies. 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. But the colonies sell their own produce mainly to buy European goods. The more they pay for those goods, the less they actually receive for their produce. Expensive European goods have the same effect as cheap colonial produce. Except in Pernambucco and Marannon, Portugal’s policy for all its colonies is in this respect the same as Spain’s old policy. For those two provinces it has recently adopted an even worse one.
Still other countries let any of their subjects trade with the colonies from any port in the mother country. Traders need no license beyond the ordinary customs-house clearance papers. With so many traders scattered across different ports, they cannot form one general alliance. Competition prevents them from earning excessively high profits. This more open policy lets colonists sell their produce and buy European goods at reasonable prices. England has always followed it since the Plymouth company was dissolved, when our colonies were still in their infancy. France has generally done so too, and has done so consistently since the dissolution of what England commonly calls its Mississippi company. Profits on French and English colonial trade are surely somewhat higher than they would be if every other nation could compete. But they are far from excessive. Consequently, European goods are not extravagantly expensive in most of either nation’s colonies.
When exporting their own surplus produce, British colonies are restricted to the mother country’s market only for certain goods. These are listed in the act of navigation and several later acts, so they are called enumerated commodities. The others are called non-enumerated commodities. Colonists may export them directly to other countries, provided they use British or plantation ships whose owners and three fourths of the mariners are British subjects.
The non-enumerated commodities include some of America’s and the West Indies’ most important products: grain of all sorts, lumber, salt provisions, fish, sugar, and rum.
Grain is naturally the first and main crop in any new colony. By allowing colonists a very large market for it, the law encourages them to grow much more than a sparsely inhabited country needs. They can thus provide ample food in advance for a steadily growing population.
In a country entirely covered with trees, timber has little or no value. The cost of clearing land is therefore the main obstacle to developing it. By providing a very large market for colonial lumber, the law tries to make development easier. It raises the price of otherwise nearly worthless timber and lets colonists earn something from what would otherwise be a pure expense.
Where a country is not even half populated or half cultivated, cattle naturally multiply beyond what the inhabitants can use. They are therefore often worth little or nothing. But as already shown, cattle must reach a certain price relative to grain before most of a country’s land can be improved. By allowing a very large market for American cattle, dead or alive and in all forms, the law tries to increase the value of an animal whose high price is so important to developing the land. This freedom’s benefits must, however, be somewhat reduced by the 4th of Geo. III. c. 15. It adds hides and skins to the enumerated commodities and thus tends to lower the value of American cattle.
The lawmakers seem to have kept one aim almost constantly in mind: increasing Great Britain’s shipping and naval strength by expanding our colonies’ fisheries. They have therefore given these fisheries all the encouragement that freedom can provide, and the fisheries have flourished. Before the late disturbances, New England’s fishery in particular was perhaps one of the most important in the world. Great Britain pays an extravagant bounty for whaling, yet achieves so little that many people think the entire catch is worth hardly more than the bounties paid each year. I cannot vouch for that opinion. New England, by contrast, carries on a very large whale fishery without any bounty. Fish is one of the chief goods North Americans trade to Spain, Portugal, and the Mediterranean.
Sugar was originally an enumerated commodity that could be exported only to Great Britain. In 1751, after sugar planters made their case, they were allowed to export it anywhere in the world. But restrictions on this permission, together with the high price of sugar in Great Britain, have made it largely ineffective. Great Britain and her colonies are still almost the only market for sugar from British plantations. Consumption there is growing so fast that exports to foreign countries are said to be little greater than before. That remains true even though sugar imports have risen greatly within these twenty years as Jamaica and the ceded islands have been developed further.
Rum is very important in the Americans’ trade with the African coast, where they exchange it for enslaved Black people whom they bring back.
If all America’s surplus grain, salt provisions, and fish had been placed on the enumerated list and forced into Great Britain’s market, they would have competed too much with goods produced by our own people. Probably it was fear of that competition, rather than concern for America’s interests, that kept these important goods off the list. For the same reason, the law ordinarily prohibits imports into Great Britain of all grain except rice and of all salt provisions.
Originally, colonists could export non-enumerated commodities anywhere in the world. Lumber and rice were later put on the enumerated list and then removed. After their removal, their European market was restricted to countries south of Cape Finisterre. Under the 6th of George III. c. 52, all non-enumerated commodities came under the same restriction. The parts of Europe south of Cape Finisterre do not produce manufactured goods, so we are less worried that colonial ships will bring back manufactures from there that compete with our own.
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
Enumerated commodities fall into two groups. The first consists of products specific to America, or products that cannot be made, or at least are not made, 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 woods used for dyeing. The second group consists of products that are not specific to America and can be produced in the mother country. But the mother country does not produce enough of them to meet most of its demand and mainly imports them from abroad. 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 imports of the first group could not discourage production or interfere with sales of anything produced in the mother country. It was expected that restricting these goods to the home market would let our merchants buy them more cheaply in the plantations and sell them at home for a better profit. It would also let them establish a profitable carrying trade between the plantations and foreign countries. Great Britain would necessarily be its center or trading hub, because it would be the first European country to receive those goods. It was thought that imports of the second group could also be managed so they did not compete with goods of the same kind produced at home, but instead competed with foreign imports. Suitable duties could always make the colonial goods somewhat more expensive than home-produced goods, yet considerably cheaper than foreign goods. Restricting the colonial goods to the home market was therefore meant to discourage production in certain foreign countries, not in Great Britain. Britain was believed to have an unfavorable balance of trade with those countries.
Barring the colonies from exporting masts, yards, bowsprits, tar, pitch, and turpentine to any country but Great Britain naturally tended to lower timber prices in the colonies. That in turn raised the cost of clearing their land, the main obstacle to its development. But around the start of the present century, in 1703, Sweden’s pitch and tar company tried to raise the prices it charged Great Britain. It banned exports except in its own ships, at its own prices, and in quantities it chose. To counter this remarkable piece of mercantile policy, and to free itself as far as possible from dependence on Sweden and every other northern power, Great Britain paid a bounty on imports of naval stores from America. The bounty raised American timber prices much more than the restriction to the home market lowered them. Since both measures took effect at the same time, their combined effect was to encourage rather than discourage land clearing in America.
Pig and bar iron are also enumerated commodities. But when imported from America, they are exempt from substantial duties charged on imports from any other country. The duty exemption therefore does more to encourage the building of furnaces in America than the export restriction does to discourage it. No other manufacturing operation uses as much wood as a furnace, or can do as much to clear a heavily wooded country.
Lawmakers may neither have intended nor understood that some of these rules would raise the value of American timber and make land clearing easier. But even if their beneficial effects in this respect were accidental, those effects were real.
Trade in both enumerated and non-enumerated commodities is completely free between the British colonies of America and the West Indies. These colonies have become so populous and prosperous that each finds a large market for every part of its output in some of the others. Taken together, they form a large internal market for one another’s products.
England’s generosity toward colonial trade, however, has mainly concerned markets for colonial produce in its raw form or at the very first stage of manufacture. Great Britain’s merchants and manufacturers want to keep more advanced or refined manufacturing for themselves, even when it uses colonial produce. They have persuaded lawmakers to prevent such industries from developing in the colonies, sometimes through high duties and sometimes through outright bans.
For example, Muscovado sugars imported from British plantations pay only 6s:4d. the hundred weight in duties. White sugars pay £1:1:1, and refined sugars in loaves, whether double or single, pay £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. She remains their main market. The duties therefore initially amounted to a ban on claying or refining sugar for any foreign market. Today they effectively ban claying or refining it for the market that takes perhaps more than nine-tenths of all the sugar produced. Accordingly, while claying and refining sugar have flourished in every French sugar colony, British colonies have done little of this work except for their own markets. When the French held Grenada, almost every plantation had at least one works for refining sugar by claying. Since the English took it, nearly all those works have closed. I am assured that no more than two or three remain on the island at present (October 1773). Customs officials now generally permit clayed or refined sugar to be imported as Muscovado if its loaves have been ground into powder.
Great Britain encourages Americans to make pig and bar iron by exempting those products from duties charged on the same goods from other countries. Yet she absolutely forbids the building of steel furnaces and slit-mills on any of her American plantations. She will not let her colonies make these more refined goods even for their own use. Instead, she requires them to buy every such good they need from her merchants and manufacturers.
She also prohibits the movement of American-made hats, wool, and woolen goods from one province to another by water, or even by land on horseback or in a cart. This effectively prevents colonists from making these goods for sale farther away. It limits their work to the rough household goods that a family ordinarily makes for itself or for neighbors in the same province.
But forbidding a great population to make the most of all its own produce, or to use its stock and labor in whatever way it judges most beneficial, plainly violates humanity’s most sacred rights. Unjust as these prohibitions are, they have not yet done the colonies much harm. Land is still so cheap there, and labor consequently so expensive, that the colonists can import almost every more refined or advanced manufactured good from the mother country for less than they could make it themselves. So even without these bans, concern for their own interests would probably have kept them from starting such industries at their current stage of development. At present, the prohibitions may not hamper their work or turn it away from anything it would otherwise do. They may only be needless marks of subjection imposed without adequate reason, because merchants and manufacturers in the mother country are suspicious without cause. At a later stage of development, though, they could become truly oppressive and unbearable.
Great Britain restricts some of the colonies’ most important products to her own market. In return, she gives some of them an advantage there. Sometimes she charges higher duties on similar goods imported from other countries; sometimes she pays bounties on imports from the colonies. The first method favors her colonies’ sugar, tobacco, and iron in the home market. The second favors their raw silk, hemp and flax, indigo, naval stores, and building timber. As far as I can learn, only Great Britain uses import bounties to encourage colonial produce. The first method is not hers alone. Portugal does more than charge higher duties on tobacco imports from other countries: she bans them under the harshest penalties.
England has also treated her colonies more generously than any other nation when they import goods from Europe.
Great Britain refunds part of the duty paid on imported foreign goods when they are exported again to a foreign country. She refunds almost always half, usually more, and sometimes all of it. It was easy to see that an independent foreign country would not accept these goods if they arrived bearing the heavy duties imposed on almost all foreign goods entering Great Britain. Without a partial refund upon export, the carrying trade would come to an end. The mercantile system strongly favors that trade.
Our colonies, though, are not independent foreign countries. Great Britain has claimed the exclusive right to supply them with all European goods. She could have forced them, as other nations have forced their colonies, to take those goods with all the duties paid in the mother country still included. Instead, until 1763, exporters received the same refunds on most foreign goods shipped to our colonies as they did on goods shipped to independent foreign countries. In 1763 the 4th of Geo. III. c. 15 greatly reduced this concession. It provided, “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 kinds of foreign goods could be bought more cheaply in the plantations than in the mother country. Some still can.
It is worth noting that the merchants who conduct colonial trade have been the chief advisers on most of its rules. We should not be surprised, then, that many rules have served their interests more than those of either the colonies or the mother country. The merchants received the exclusive right to supply the colonies with all their European goods. They also received the exclusive right to buy any surplus colonial produce that would not compete with the trades those merchants conducted at home. In both cases the colonies’ interests were sacrificed to theirs. Exporters were also allowed the same duty refunds when sending most European and East India goods to the colonies as when sending them to independent countries. Even by the mercantile system’s own understanding of the mother country’s interests, this sacrificed those interests to the merchants’. The merchants wanted to pay as little as possible for foreign goods sent to the colonies. So they wanted to recover as much as possible of the duties they had advanced when importing those goods into Great Britain. They could then sell the same quantity in the colonies at a higher profit, or sell a larger quantity at the same profit. Either way they would gain. The colonies, too, benefited from getting those goods as cheaply and abundantly as possible. But the mother country did not always benefit. Her revenue could suffer when she refunded a large share of the duties paid on the goods. Her manufacturers could also lose sales to cheaper foreign manufactures in colonial markets, because refunds made it cheaper to ship foreign goods there. People commonly say that refunds on German linen re-exported to the American colonies have considerably slowed the growth of Great Britain’s linen manufacturing.
Great Britain’s policy toward colonial trade has been driven by the same mercantile spirit as other nations’ policies. Overall, however, it has been less restrictive and oppressive than any of theirs.
Apart from foreign trade, English colonists have complete freedom to run their own affairs in their own way. Their freedom is in every respect equal to that of their fellow citizens at home. It has the same safeguard: an assembly of elected representatives claiming the sole right to levy taxes to support colonial government. This assembly keeps the executive authorities in check. As long as a colonist obeys the law, even the poorest or most disliked has nothing to fear from the governor’s anger or that of any other civil or military official in the province. Like England’s house of commons, the colonial assemblies do not always represent the people very equally. Yet they come closer to doing so. The executive authorities may lack the means to corrupt them or, because the mother country supports the executive, may have no need to do so. The assemblies may therefore generally follow their voters’ wishes more closely. Councils in colonial legislatures serve the role that the house of lords serves in Great Britain, but their members are not hereditary nobles. In some colonies, including three New England governments, the king does not appoint the councils; the people’s representatives elect them. None of the English colonies has a hereditary nobility. To be sure, as in every free country, a descendant of an old colonial family receives more respect than a newcomer with equal ability and wealth. But the descendant receives only respect, not privileges that would let him cause trouble for his neighbors. Before the present disturbances began, colonial assemblies exercised not only legislative authority but some executive authority. They elected the governor in Connecticut and Rhode Island. In the other colonies, they appointed the revenue officers who collected the taxes those assemblies had levied, and the officers answered directly to them. There is thus more equality among English colonists than among inhabitants of the mother country. Their ways are more republican, and their governments have so far been more republican too, especially those of three New England provinces.
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
By contrast, Spain, Portugal, and France govern their colonies as absolute rulers. Their governments usually give lower officials wide discretion. Because the colonies are so far away, those officials tend to use that power with unusual violence. In any absolute government, people have more liberty in the capital than anywhere else. The sovereign himself has no reason or desire to corrupt justice or oppress most of his people. In the capital, his presence keeps his lower officials somewhat in check. In distant provinces, where complaints are less likely to reach him, they can act tyrannically with much less risk. 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 government in history that could provide complete security to people living so far away. Still, the French colonies have always been governed more gently and moderately than the Spanish and Portuguese colonies. This difference fits both the character of the French people and the thing that shapes the character of every people: their government. Compared with Great Britain's, the French government is arbitrary and violent. Compared with those of Spain and Portugal, it is lawful and free.
The superiority of English policy appears most clearly, however, in the growth of its North American colonies. France's sugar colonies have grown at least as much as most of England's, and perhaps more. Yet England's sugar colonies have a free government, much like the government of its North American colonies. Unlike England's sugar colonies, the French colonies are not discouraged from refining their own sugar. More importantly still, the character of French government naturally leads to better treatment and management of their enslaved Black workers.
In every European colony, enslaved Black people grow the sugar cane. People born in Europe's temperate climate supposedly cannot bear digging the ground under the burning West Indian sun. As sugar cane is grown now, all the work is done by hand, though many people think a drill plow could be used to great advantage. When cultivation relies on cattle, its profit and success depend heavily on how well those cattle are managed. Likewise, when cultivation relies on enslaved people, its profit and success depend on how those people are managed. I think it is generally agreed that French planters manage their slaves better than English planters do. Where a colonial government is largely arbitrary, it is more likely to enforce laws that offer a slave some weak protection against a master's violence than a government that is completely free. Wherever the unfortunate law of slavery exists, a magistrate who protects a slave interferes to some extent with the master's management of private property. In a free country, the master may be a member of the colonial assembly, or may vote for one. The magistrate therefore hardly dares to interfere without the greatest care. The respect he must show the master makes it harder to protect the slave. But where government is largely arbitrary, magistrates routinely interfere even with people's management of private property. They might even send someone a lettre de cachet if that person manages it in a way they dislike. It is far easier for such a magistrate to give a slave some protection, and ordinary humanity inclines him to do so. A magistrate's protection makes the slave less contemptible in the master's eyes. The master is then more inclined to show consideration and treat the slave gently. Gentler treatment makes the slave not only more faithful but more intelligent, and so useful in two ways. The slave comes closer to the condition of a free servant and may develop some honesty and concern for the master's interests. Free servants often have these qualities, but slaves treated in the usual way in countries where masters are fully free and secure can never have them.
I believe the history of every age and nation supports the claim that slaves are better off under an arbitrary government than under a free one. In Roman history, the first account of a magistrate stepping in to protect a slave from a master's violence comes from the time of the emperors. In Augustus's presence, Vidius Pollio ordered one of his slaves cut to pieces and thrown into his fishpond to feed his fish, for a minor fault. Outraged, the emperor ordered him to free not only that slave but every slave he owned immediately. Under the republic, no magistrate would have had enough authority to protect the slave, much less punish the master.
It is worth noting that nearly all the stock used to develop the French sugar colonies, especially the large colony of St Domingo, arose from the gradual development and cultivation of those colonies themselves. It was almost entirely the product of the colonists' land and work, or, equivalently, the money they received for that product. Through good management, they gradually saved that money and used it to produce still more. But a large share of the stock used to develop and cultivate England's sugar colonies came from England. It was by no means all produced by the colonists' land and work. The English sugar colonies prospered in large part because some of England's great wealth spilled over into them, so to speak. The French sugar colonies, however, prospered entirely because of their colonists' good management. In that respect the French colonists must have surpassed the English. This superiority has been most apparent in how they manage their slaves.
These are the broad outlines of the different European nations' policies toward their colonies.
Europe's policies, then, have little to boast about in either the initial establishment of the American colonies or, as far as their internal government is concerned, their later prosperity.
The first plans to establish those colonies seem to have been guided by foolishness and injustice. It was foolish to hunt for gold and silver mines. And it was unjust to want possession of lands whose peaceful native inhabitants had never harmed Europeans and had welcomed the first adventurers with every sign of kindness and hospitality.
Some of the adventurers who founded later settlements did have more reasonable and praiseworthy reasons as well as the fanciful hope of finding gold and silver mines. But even those reasons give little credit to Europe's policies.
English Puritans, restricted at home, fled to America for freedom and established the four governments of New England. English Catholics, treated far more unjustly, established Maryland; Quakers established Pennsylvania. Portuguese Jews were persecuted by the inquisition, stripped of their fortunes, and banished to Brazil. By their example, they brought some order and industry to the transported criminals and prostitutes who originally populated that colony, and taught them to grow sugar cane. In all these cases, it was the disorder and injustice of European governments, not their wisdom or policies, that populated and cultivated America.
Europe's various governments deserve as little credit for carrying out some of the most important settlements as for planning them. The conquest of Mexico was not planned by the council of Spain but by a governor of Cuba. It was carried out by the bold adventurer entrusted with it, despite everything that governor could do to stop it after regretting his choice. The conquerors of Chili, Peru, and nearly every other Spanish settlement on the American continent took with them no public backing beyond general permission to settle and conquer in the name of the king of Spain. They undertook all those ventures at their own risk and expense. Spain's government contributed almost nothing to any of them. England's government contributed just as little to the establishment of some of its most important North American colonies.
Once those settlements were established and had grown large enough to attract the mother country's attention, its first regulations always aimed to secure a monopoly on their commerce. It sought to restrict their market and enlarge its own at their expense. It thus tended to slow and discourage their prosperity rather than speed it up. One of the most important differences among European nations' colonial policies lies in the different ways they exercised this monopoly. England's policy, the best of them, is only somewhat less restrictive and oppressive than any of the others.
How, then, did Europe's policies help either to establish the American colonies or to bring them to their present greatness? They helped considerably in one way, and only one. Magna virum mater! Europe raised and shaped the people who could accomplish such great things and lay the foundations of such a great empire. No other part of the world has policies that can shape such people, or has ever actually done so. The colonies owe their energetic and enterprising founders' education and broad ambitions to Europe's policies. Some of the greatest and most important colonies owe those policies almost nothing else as far as their internal government is concerned.
PART III. The Advantages Europe Has Gained from the Discovery of America and from the Discovery of a Route to the East Indies around the Cape of Good Hope.
Those, then, are the advantages the American colonies have gained from Europe's policies.
What advantages has Europe gained from the discovery and colonization of America?
These advantages fall into two groups. First are the general advantages Europe has gained from these great events when considered as a single large country. Second are the particular advantages each colonizing country has gained from the colonies it governs.
Considered as one large country, Europe has gained two general advantages from the discovery and colonization of America. First, its people have more things to enjoy. Second, its industry has increased.
America's surplus produce imported into Europe gives the inhabitants of this vast continent various goods they could not otherwise have had. Some are useful and convenient; some give pleasure; and some are decorative. All increase what Europeans can enjoy.
The discovery and colonization of America have plainly increased industry, first, in countries trading with it directly, such as Spain, Portugal, France, and England. They have also increased industry in countries that send their own goods there through other countries rather than trading directly. For example, Austrian Flanders and some provinces of Germany send substantial quantities of linen and other goods to America through the countries just named. All these countries have gained a larger market for their surplus produce and thus have had reason to produce more.
It may be less obvious that those great events have also encouraged industry in countries such as Hungary and Poland, which may never have sent a single one of their own products to America. But they undoubtedly have. Hungary and Poland consume some American products, and there is demand there for sugar, chocolate, and tobacco from that new part of the world. These goods must be bought either with goods produced by the work of Hungary and Poland or with goods purchased using some of those products. American goods bring new value, new goods to trade, into Hungary and Poland in exchange for those countries' surplus produce. Bringing them there creates a new, larger market for that surplus produce. This raises its value and encourages an increase in its quantity. That produce need not ever go to America. It can go to other countries that pay for it with part of their share of America's surplus produce. Through the circulation of trade originally set in motion by America's surplus produce, it finds a market.
Those great events may even have increased the enjoyment and industry of countries that have never sent goods to America or received any from it. Such countries may have received more of other goods from countries whose surplus produce grew through American trade. This greater supply must increase what they can enjoy, and it must also increase their industry. They must have been offered more new goods of one kind or another in exchange for the surplus produce of their own industry. This creates a larger market for that surplus, raises its value, and encourages more production. America's entire surplus produce must have increased the quantity of goods put into the great network of European commerce each year and circulated among all the nations in it. Each nation is therefore likely to have received a greater share of a larger supply of goods, increasing both what its people enjoy and what they produce.
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 both the enjoyment and the industry of all these nations generally, and of the American colonies especially. At the very least it holds them below the levels they would otherwise reach. It weighs down one of the great forces that drive much of humanity's business. It makes colonial goods more expensive in every other country, so people buy less of them. This restricts colonial industry. It also reduces what other countries can enjoy and produce: people enjoy less when they pay more for their goods, and produce less when they get less for what they make. The monopoly also makes other countries' goods more expensive in the colonies. In the same way, it restricts the industry of all the other colonies and reduces both the enjoyment and industry of the colonies. For the supposed benefit of certain countries, this obstruction limits what people in every other country can enjoy and produce. It hurts the colonies most of all. It not only shuts other countries out of a particular market as far as possible; it also confines the colonies to one market as far as possible. There is a great difference between losing access to one market while all others remain open and being confined to one market while all others are closed. Yet the colonies' surplus produce is the original source of all the increase in enjoyment and industry that Europe gains from the discovery and colonization of America. The mother countries' exclusive trade tends to make that source far less abundant than it could be.
The particular benefits each colonizing country gets from its own colonies are of two kinds. First are the ordinary benefits any empire gets from the provinces it rules. Second are the special benefits supposedly gained from provinces as unusual as Europe's American colonies.
An empire receives two ordinary benefits from the provinces it rules: military forces for its defense and revenue to support its civil government. The Roman colonies sometimes supplied both. Greek colonies sometimes supplied troops but rarely supplied revenue. They seldom acknowledged the mother city's authority over them. They were generally its allies in war, but rarely its subjects in peace.
The European colonies in America have never supplied any military forces to defend their mother countries. Their forces have not even been sufficient for their own defense. In the various wars fought by their mother countries, defending the colonies has generally drawn off a substantial part of those countries' military forces. In this respect, every European colony without exception has weakened rather than strengthened its mother country.
Only the colonies of Spain and Portugal have contributed revenue to defend the mother country or support its civil government. The taxes imposed on the colonies of other European nations, especially those of England, have seldom matched the money spent on them in peacetime and have never covered the costs they caused in wartime. These colonies have therefore cost their mother countries money rather than brought them revenue.
The benefits of these colonies to their mother countries must therefore lie entirely in the special benefits supposedly offered by such unusual provinces as Europe's American colonies. And, as everyone admits, exclusive trade is the sole source of all those special benefits.
Because of exclusive trade, all the surplus produce of the English colonies that consists of what are called enumerated commodities, for example, can be sent only to England. Other countries must then buy those goods from England. They must therefore be cheaper in England than anywhere else, and they must increase what England's people can enjoy more than what any other country's people can enjoy. They must also encourage England's industry more. England can get a better price for any of its own surplus produce that it trades for those enumerated goods than other countries can get for similar produce traded for the same goods. For example, England's manufactures can buy more sugar and tobacco from its colonies than similar manufactures from other countries can buy of that sugar and tobacco. So when both English and foreign manufactures are traded for sugar and tobacco from the English colonies, England's better terms encourage its manufactures more than foreign manufactures can be encouraged under these conditions. Colonial exclusive trade thus reduces, or at least holds down, what countries without it can enjoy and produce. It gives countries with it an obvious advantage over those without it.
Yet this may turn out to be a relative advantage rather than an absolute one. It may make the country with the monopoly appear stronger mainly by reducing other countries' industry and produce, not by raising its own above the levels that free trade would naturally bring.
For example, England's monopoly of Maryland and Virginia tobacco certainly makes that tobacco cheaper for England than for France, to which England commonly sells a considerable share. But if France and every other European country had always been free to trade with Maryland and Virginia, their tobacco might now be cheaper for everyone, including England, than it actually is. With such a much larger market, tobacco production might—and probably would—have grown enough by now to bring the profits of a tobacco plantation down to their natural level alongside those of a corn plantation. Tobacco plantations are thought still to make somewhat higher profits. The price of tobacco might, and probably would, have fallen somewhat below its present price. The same quantity of English or other countries' goods could have bought more tobacco in Maryland and Virginia than it can now, so those goods would in effect have sold there for a better price. To the extent that cheap and abundant tobacco can increase what England or any other country enjoys or produces, free trade would probably have done both somewhat more than the present system does. England would, of course, have had no advantage over other countries in that case. It might have bought its colonies' tobacco somewhat more cheaply, and sold some of its own goods somewhat more dearly, than it now does. But it could not have bought more cheaply or sold more dearly than any other country. It might have gained an absolute advantage but would certainly have lost its relative one.
There are strong reasons to believe that, in seeking this relative advantage in colonial trade and carrying out the spiteful plan to exclude other nations from it as far as possible, England has sacrificed some of the absolute benefit that it and every other nation could have gained from the trade. It has also put itself at both an absolute and a relative disadvantage in nearly every other branch of trade.
When the act of navigation gave England a monopoly on colonial trade, foreign stock previously used in that trade had to leave it. English stock, which had previously handled only part of the trade, now had to handle all of it. The stock that had supplied the colonies with only some of the European goods they wanted was now the only stock available to supply all of them. But it could not supply everything, and the goods it did supply sold at very high prices. Likewise, the stock that had previously bought only some of the colonies' surplus produce was now the only stock available to buy all of it. It could not buy everything at anything close to the old price. So whatever it did buy, it bought very cheaply. Merchants selling very dearly and buying very cheaply must have made profits far above the ordinary rate in other trades. Those high colonial profits were bound to draw some stock out of other trades. As more stock entered colonial trade, competition there gradually increased, while competition in other trades decreased. Profits in colonial trade gradually fell and profits elsewhere rose, until profits across the trades settled at a new level, somewhat higher than the old one.
This monopoly both drew stock away from other trades and raised the rate of profit across trades above what it otherwise would have been. These effects did not end after the monopoly was first established; they have continued ever since.
First, this monopoly has continually drawn stock from every other trade into colonial trade.
Great Britain's wealth has grown greatly since the act of navigation was established, but it certainly has not grown at the same rate as the wealth of the colonies. A country's foreign trade naturally grows along with its wealth, just as its surplus produce grows along with its total produce. Great Britain took over almost all the colonies' foreign trade. Its stock did not grow as fast as that trade. It therefore could not conduct the trade without continually taking some stock out of other trades and keeping out much more that would otherwise have entered them. Accordingly, colonial trade has grown continuously since the act of navigation, while many other branches of foreign trade, particularly trade with other parts of Europe, have steadily declined. Before the act, our manufactures for export had been suited to the nearby European market or to the more distant countries around the Mediterranean sea. Since then, most have been adapted to the still more distant colonial market, where we have a monopoly rather than many competitors. Sir Matthew Decker and other writers have sought the causes of decline in our other foreign trades in excessive or poorly designed taxes, high wages, growing luxury, etc. But all those causes can be found in the excessive growth of colonial trade. Great Britain's mercantile stock is very large, but not unlimited. It has grown greatly since the act of navigation, but not as quickly as colonial trade. Conducting that trade was therefore impossible without taking some stock away from other trades and causing those other trades to decline.
England was already a great trading country before the act of navigation established the monopoly of the corn trade, and even before that trade was very large. Its mercantile stock was already very large and likely to keep growing. In the Dutch war under Cromwell, England's navy was stronger than Holland's. In the war that began early in the reign of Charles II., it was at least as strong as the combined navies of France and Holland, and perhaps stronger. Its superiority today might hardly look greater, at least if the Dutch navy still bore the same relation to Dutch commerce that it did then. Yet the act of navigation could not have caused England's great naval power in either war. The plan for the act had only just been drawn up during the first. Although the act had been fully enacted before the second began, none of it had had time to make a substantial difference, least of all the part establishing exclusive colonial trade. The colonies and their trade were then small compared with their present size. Jamaica was an unhealthy wilderness, with few inhabitants and even less cultivated land. The Dutch held New York and New Jersey; the French held half of St. Christopher's. Antigua, the two Carolinas, Pennsylvania, Georgia, and Nova Scotia had not been settled. Virginia, Maryland, and New England had been settled. They were flourishing, but probably nobody in either Europe or America then foresaw, or even suspected, how quickly their wealth, population, and cultivation would grow. Barbadoes was the only significant British colony whose condition then resembled its condition now. For some time after the act of navigation, England had only a share of the colonial trade, because the act was not strictly enforced until several years after it was enacted. That trade could not have been the cause of England's large trade at the time or of the great naval power it supported. Trade with Europe and the countries around the Mediterranean sea supported that naval power. But Britain's current share of that trade could not support such a great navy. If all nations had been free to participate in the growing colonial trade, Britain's share—and it would probably have been substantial—would have added to the large trade it already had. Because of the monopoly, growing colonial trade has not so much added to Britain's former trade as completely changed 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, the monopoly has necessarily kept profits in every branch of British trade above the level they would naturally have reached if all nations had been free to trade with the British colonies.
The monopoly drew a larger share of Great Britain's stock into colonial trade than would have gone there on its own. But by excluding all foreign stock, it also reduced the total stock used in that trade below what free trade would have brought. Less competition among investors in colonial trade necessarily raised profits there. Less competition among British investors in every other trade also raised British profits in those trades. Whatever the size and condition of Britain's mercantile stock at any given time since the act of navigation was established, the monopoly must have raised ordinary British profits above what they would otherwise have been, both in colonial trade and in every other British trade. Ordinary British profits have certainly fallen considerably since the act was established. Without the monopoly the act created, they would have fallen even further.
Anything that raises a country's ordinary rate of profit above its otherwise natural level necessarily puts that country at both an absolute and a relative disadvantage in every trade it does not monopolize.
It puts the country at an absolute disadvantage because its merchants cannot get those higher profits in such trades without charging more than they otherwise would. They charge more both for foreign goods imported into their country and for their country's goods exported abroad. The country must pay more to buy and charge more to sell. It must buy less and sell less, and its people must both enjoy less and produce less than they otherwise would.
It also puts the country at a relative disadvantage. In trades it does not monopolize, other countries are not burdened by the same absolute disadvantage. They therefore move further ahead of it, or fall less far behind it, than they otherwise would. Compared with it, they can both enjoy more and produce more. Their lead grows, or their deficit shrinks. Because its produce costs more than it otherwise would, merchants from other countries can undercut it in foreign markets and push it out of almost every trade it does not monopolize.
Our merchants often complain that high British wages cause foreign sellers to undercut British manufactures abroad. They say nothing, though, about high profits on stock. They complain that other people earn too much but never mention their own earnings. Yet high profits on British stock may raise the price of British manufactures just as much as high British wages do in many cases, and perhaps even more in some.
That is how Britain's stock has, one can fairly say, been both drawn and driven out of most trades it does not monopolize, especially trade with Europe and the countries around the Mediterranean sea.
It has been drawn out of those trades by the higher profits available in colonial trade. Colonial trade keeps growing, and the stock that conducted it in one year is continually too small to conduct it the next.
It has also been driven out because Britain's high rate of profit gives other countries an advantage in all the trades Britain does not monopolize.
The colonial monopoly has drawn some British stock away from other trades where it would otherwise have been used. It has also pushed into those trades a great deal of foreign stock that would never have entered them if it had not been excluded from colonial trade. It has reduced competition among British investors in these other trades, raising British profits above what they would otherwise be. At the same time, it has increased competition among foreign investors there and driven foreign profits below what they would otherwise be. Both effects clearly put Great Britain at a relative disadvantage in all these other trades.
Someone might say, however, that colonial trade benefits Great Britain more than any other trade. On this view, the monopoly forces a larger share of British stock into colonial trade than would otherwise go there and puts it to better use for the country than it could find anywhere else.
The best use of a country's stock is the one that supports the most productive labor within that country and adds the most to the annual produce of its land and labor. But as the second book showed, the amount of productive labor that stock used in the foreign trade of consumption can support depends exactly on how often it comes back. Suppose a thousand pounds is used in such a trade and comes back regularly once a year. It can continually employ as much productive labor in its home country as a thousand pounds can support there for a year. If it comes back twice or three times a year, it can continually employ as much as two or three thousand pounds can support there for a year. For that reason, the foreign trade of consumption with a nearby country is generally better for a country than such trade with a distant one. For the same reason, as the second book also showed, direct foreign trade of consumption is generally better than indirect trade.
But in every case where the colonial monopoly has affected the use of Britain's stock, it has forced some of that stock away from foreign trade of consumption with nearby countries and into trade with more distant ones. In many cases it has also shifted stock from direct foreign trade of consumption into indirect trade.
First, in every case, the colonial trade monopoly has forced some British stock out of foreign trade of consumption with nearby countries and into trade with more distant countries.
Some stock has always been shifted from trade with Europe and the countries around the Mediterranean sea to trade with the more distant regions of America and the West Indies. Stock comes back less often from there, not only because they are farther away but also because of their particular circumstances. New colonies, as already noted, always have too little stock. They have far less than they could use very profitably to improve and cultivate their land. They therefore always need more stock than they own and try to make up the difference by borrowing as much as possible from the mother country. They are consequently always in debt to it. Colonies most often incur these debts not by borrowing from rich people in the mother country against bonds, although they sometimes do that, but by delaying payment as long as their European suppliers will allow. Their annual payments often do not cover more than a third of what they owe, and sometimes cover even less. As a result, the full stock advanced to them by those suppliers seldom returns to Britain in less than three years, and sometimes takes four or five. Take a thousand pounds of British stock that returns to Great Britain only once every five years. It can continually employ only one-fifth as much British industry as it could if it came back once a year. Instead of continually employing as much industry as a thousand pounds can support for a year, it can employ only as much as two hundred pounds can support for a year. The planter no doubt makes up, and probably more than makes up, any loss the supplier suffers from the delay. The planter pays high prices for European goods, interest on bills payable far in the future, and commissions to renew bills payable sooner. But although the planter covers the supplier's loss, he cannot cover Great Britain's loss. The merchant's profit from a trade in which stock takes a long time to come back may match or exceed his profit from one in which it comes back frequently and quickly. Yet the benefit to the country where he lives—the productive labor continually supported there and the annual produce of its land and labor—must always be much smaller. I imagine anyone experienced in these trades will agree that stock used in trade with America, and even more in trade with the West Indies, generally comes back not only later but also less regularly and less reliably than stock used in trade with any part of Europe or even with the countries around the Mediterranean sea.
Second, the colonial trade monopoly has in many cases forced some British stock out of direct foreign trade of consumption and into indirect trade.
Several of the enumerated commodities, which can be sent to no market but Great Britain, are produced in quantities far greater than Britain consumes. Some must therefore be exported again to other countries. Doing this forces some British stock into indirect foreign trade of consumption. Maryland and Virginia, for example, send upwards of ninety-six thousand hogsheads of tobacco to Great Britain every year. Britain's consumption is said not to exceed fourteen thousand. Upwards of eighty-two thousand hogsheads must therefore be exported to other countries: to France, Holland, and the countries around the Baltic and Mediterranean seas. Some British stock brings those eighty-two thousand hogsheads to Britain, exports them again to those other countries, and brings goods or money back to Britain in payment. That stock is used in indirect foreign trade of consumption; it has to be used this way to dispose of such a large surplus. To calculate how many years it will take for all this stock to return to Britain, we must add the time required for the goods or money to come back from those other countries to the time required for the American shipment. In our direct foreign trade of consumption with America, all the stock used often takes three or four years to come back. In this indirect trade, it is unlikely to come back in less than four or five. If the direct trade can continually employ only a third or fourth as much domestic industry as stock that returns once a year, the indirect trade can employ only a fourth or fifth as much. At some ports outside London, merchants usually give credit to the foreign buyers to whom they export the tobacco. At the port of London, it is usually sold for cash: the rule is Weigh and pay. So at London the final proceeds of the entire indirect trade arrive later than the American proceeds only by however long the tobacco remains unsold in the warehouse. It can sometimes remain there quite a long time. But if the colonies had not been restricted to Britain's market for their tobacco, probably little more than what Britain itself consumed would have reached us. Britain now buys goods for its own consumption with the large tobacco surplus it exports to other countries. Without the restriction, it would probably have bought those goods with the direct produce of its own industry or some of its own manufactures. Instead of being adapted almost entirely to one large market, as they are now, those goods and manufactures would probably have been adapted to many smaller markets. Rather than conducting one large indirect foreign trade of consumption, Britain would probably have conducted many smaller direct trades of the same kind. Because the stock would have returned more often, some—and probably only a small—part of the stock now used in this large indirect trade might have sufficed for all those smaller direct trades. Perhaps no more than a third or fourth would have been needed. It could have kept just as much British industry continually employed and supported just as much annual produce from Britain's land and labor. The same purposes of trade could thus have been met with much less stock. A large amount would have been left for other uses: improving land, increasing manufactures, and expanding Britain's commerce. At the very least, this stock would have competed with other British stock used in all those ways. It would have lowered the rate of profit in all of them and given Britain an even greater advantage over other countries than it has now.
The colonial trade monopoly has also forced some British stock out of every kind of foreign trade of consumption and into a carrying trade. Instead of supporting more or less British industry, that stock is used entirely to support some industry in the colonies and some in 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
For example, Great Britain buys goods with the eighty-two thousand hogsheads of tobacco it re-exports each year. Not all those goods are used in Great Britain. Some, such as linen from Germany and Holland, go back to the colonies for their use. But the British capital used to buy the tobacco that pays for this linen is taken away from supporting British industry. Instead, it supports industry partly in the colonies and partly in the countries that pay for the tobacco with goods they have made.
The monopoly of colony trade also pushes much more British capital into that trade than would go there naturally. It seems to have destroyed the balance that would otherwise exist among the branches of British industry. Instead of serving many small markets, British industry has been shaped mainly to serve one large market. Instead of flowing through many small channels, its commerce flows mainly through one large channel. This has made all its industry and commerce less secure, and the whole political body less healthy than it would otherwise be. Britain now resembles an unhealthy body with some vital parts grown too large. Such bodies are prone to dangerous illnesses rarely found in bodies whose parts are properly proportioned. A small blockage in the great blood vessel that has been artificially enlarged, and through which an unnaturally large share of national industry and commerce must circulate, may bring dangerous illness to the whole political body. This is why the prospect of a break with the colonies has frightened the British people more than a Spanish armada or a French invasion ever did. That fear, whether justified or not, made repeal of the stamp act popular, at least among merchants. Most merchants imagined that losing the colony market entirely, even for a few years, would stop their trade altogether. Most manufacturing employers imagined it would ruin their businesses, and most workers expected to lose their jobs. A break with a neighboring country on the continent could also disrupt some work for all these groups, but people contemplate it without such general alarm. Blood blocked in a small vessel can easily flow into larger vessels without dangerous results. Block it in a large vessel, and convulsions, a stroke, or death follow immediately and inevitably. Even a small interruption to one overgrown manufacture, artificially raised to an unnatural size by bounties or by monopolies over home and colony markets, often causes unrest and disorder that alarm the government and even hamper the legislature's deliberations. People therefore thought a sudden, complete stoppage of work for so many major manufacturers would bring enormous disorder and confusion.
A moderate, gradual relaxation of the laws reserving colony trade for Great Britain seems the only way to free her from this danger in the future. Trade would eventually become largely free. Britain could then withdraw some capital from this overgrown occupation, or would be forced to do so, and put it into other occupations, even if they earned less profit. One branch of industry would gradually shrink while the others grew. In time, all branches would return to the natural, healthy proportions that complete freedom necessarily establishes and alone preserves. Opening colony trade to every nation all at once might bring not just temporary inconvenience but a large permanent loss to most of those whose work or capital now depends on it. The sudden loss of work for the ships that import even the eighty-two thousand hogsheads of tobacco beyond Britain's own consumption could be keenly felt. Such are the unfortunate effects of every regulation of the mercantile system. They create dangerous disorders in the political body, and these disorders are often hard to cure without causing still worse ones, at least for a time. Future statesmen and legislators must decide how to open colony trade gradually, which restrictions to remove first and last, and how to restore the natural system of complete freedom and justice step by step.
Five separate, unexpected events have fortunately kept Britain from feeling as sharply as expected the complete exclusion from a very important branch of colony trade. That exclusion, from the twelve associated provinces of North America, has now lasted more than a year (from the first of December 1774). First, as the colonies prepared their agreement not to import, they bought up all the goods Britain had that were suitable for their market. Second, the extra demand from the Spanish flota has this year drawn many goods, especially linen, away from Germany and the north. Those goods had competed with British manufactures even in the British market. Third, peace between Russia and Turkey has brought exceptional demand from the Turkey market. That market had been poorly supplied during the country's troubles, when a Russian fleet was cruising in the Archipelago. Fourth, demand in northern Europe for British manufactures has been growing year by year for some time. Fifth, the recent partition and resulting pacification of Poland have opened that large country's market. Demand from there has added an exceptional amount this year to the growing northern demand. Except for the fourth, these events are temporary and accidental. If exclusion from such a major branch of colony trade lasts much longer, it may yet bring some hardship. But that hardship will arrive gradually and will be much less severe than if it had come all at once. Meanwhile, the country's industry and capital may find new work and direction, preventing hardship from ever becoming serious.
By drawing more British capital into colony trade than would otherwise have entered it, the monopoly has in every case diverted capital from foreign trade supplying a nearby country for consumption to the same kind of trade with a more distant country. In many cases it has diverted capital from direct foreign trade for consumption to indirect trade. In some cases it has diverted capital from every kind of foreign trade for consumption into carrying trade. In every case it has thus diverted capital from work that would support more productive labor to work that supports much less. By fitting so much British industry and commerce to a single market, it has also made both more precarious than if their goods had been suited to a wider range of markets.
We must distinguish carefully between the effects of colony trade and those of its monopoly. Trade itself is always beneficial; the monopoly is always harmful. But the benefit from colony trade is so great that even with a monopoly and all its harmful effects, the trade is still highly beneficial overall, though much less beneficial than it could be.
In its natural, free condition, colony trade opens a large, though distant, market for British goods beyond what nearby markets can use, including those of Europe and the countries around the Mediterranean sea. It does not take away any goods previously sent to those markets. Instead, by continually offering new goods to exchange, it encourages Britain to keep increasing its surplus production. Free colony trade tends to increase productive labor in Britain without changing the direction of work already underway. Competition from every other nation would prevent profit rates from rising above their usual level in either the new market or the new occupation. Without taking anything from the old market, the new one would, so to speak, create new goods to supply itself. Those goods would form new capital for the new occupation, which likewise would take nothing away from the old one.
The monopoly, by contrast, excludes competition from other nations and so raises profits in both the new market and the new occupation. It takes goods away from the old market and capital away from the old occupation. Its stated aim is to enlarge our share of colony trade beyond what it would otherwise be. If it did not enlarge our share, there would be no reason to establish it. But returns from this branch of trade come in more slowly and from farther away than returns from most others. Anything that forces more of a country's capital into it than would go there voluntarily reduces the productive labor that capital supports each year. It also reduces the yearly output of the country's land and labor. It holds residents' revenue below the level it would naturally reach, reducing their ability to save and build up capital. At all times it prevents their capital from supporting as much productive labor as it otherwise could. It also slows the growth of that capital, preventing it from supporting still more productive labor in the future.
Even so, for Britain the natural benefits of colony trade more than offset the harm done by the monopoly. The trade as presently conducted, monopoly included, is not merely beneficial but highly beneficial. The new market and occupations opened by colony trade are much larger than the part of the old market and occupations lost because of the monopoly. The new goods and capital created, so to speak, by colony trade support more productive labor in Britain than was displaced when capital was drawn away from trades with faster returns. Colony trade benefits Britain even in its present form, but it does so despite the monopoly, not because of it.
Colony trade opens a new market chiefly for Europe's manufactured goods rather than its raw produce. Agriculture is the main business of all new colonies because cheap land makes it more profitable than anything else. They therefore have plenty of raw produce from the land. Rather than importing it, they generally have a large surplus to export. Farming in new colonies draws workers away from other occupations or keeps them from entering those occupations. Few workers are available for necessary manufactures, and none for decorative ones. Colonists find it cheaper to buy most of both kinds from other countries than to make them themselves. By encouraging European manufacturing, colony trade indirectly encourages European agriculture. The European manufacturers it employs form a new market for farm produce, and the most favorable kind of market: a home market. Trade with America thus greatly expands the home market for Europe's grain and cattle, bread and butcher's meat.
Yet Spain and Portugal show that a monopoly over trade with populous, thriving colonies is not enough by itself to establish or even maintain a country's manufacturing. Both were manufacturing countries before they had substantial colonies. Since acquiring the richest and most fertile colonies in the world, both have ceased to be so.
In Spain and Portugal, the monopoly's harmful effects, made worse by other causes, have perhaps almost outweighed the natural benefits of colony trade. Those causes seem to include other kinds of monopoly; the lowering of the value of gold and silver below their value in most other countries; improper export taxes that shut out foreign markets; and even more improper taxes on moving goods between parts of the country that shrink the home market. Above all, there is the uneven and biased administration of justice. It often protects wealthy, powerful debtors against creditors they have wronged. It makes the country's industrious people afraid to prepare goods for those proud and powerful men. They dare not refuse to sell to them on credit, but cannot be sure they will ever be paid.
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 colony trade have largely overcome the harm from the monopoly, with help from other causes. One is the general freedom of trade, despite some restrictions, which is at least as great as, and perhaps greater than, in any other country. Another is the freedom to export almost every kind of domestically produced good to almost any foreign country without paying a duty. Perhaps still more important is the unlimited freedom to move these goods from one part of our country to another. No one has to report to a public office or undergo any questioning or inspection. Above all, justice is administered fairly and impartially. It makes the rights of the poorest British subject respected even by the most powerful. By securing to everyone the fruits of their work, it gives the strongest and most effective encouragement to every kind of industry.
Colony trade has certainly advanced British manufacturing. But it has done so despite the monopoly, not because of it. The monopoly has not increased the amount manufactured. It has changed the kind and form of some British manufactured goods, fitting them to a market whose payments arrive slowly and from far away. Otherwise they would have served a market with frequent, nearby returns. The monopoly has thus drawn some British capital away from a use that would support more manufacturing labor into one that supports much less. It has reduced, rather than increased, the total amount of manufacturing labor supported in Britain.
Like all the other petty and harmful devices of the mercantile system, the monopoly of colony trade holds back industry in other countries, especially the colonies. Far from increasing industry in the country it favors, it reduces it.
Whatever the amount of that country's capital at a given time, the monopoly prevents it from supporting as much productive labor or yielding as much revenue to its industrious people as it otherwise could. Capital grows only through savings from revenue. So by reducing revenue, the monopoly also slows the growth of capital. That in turn prevents it from supporting still more productive labor and yielding still more revenue to the country's industrious people. The monopoly must therefore always have reduced one major original source of revenue: wages of labor.
By raising merchants' profit rates, the monopoly discourages improvement of the land. The profit from improvement depends on the difference between what land now produces and what an investment of capital could make it produce. If that difference yields a higher profit than the same capital could earn in any mercantile occupation, capital will flow from those occupations into improving land. If it yields less, capital will move the other way. Anything that raises mercantile profits therefore either reduces improvement's advantage or increases its disadvantage. In the first case it keeps capital from flowing into improvement; in the second it draws capital away from improvement. By discouraging improvement, the monopoly slows the natural growth of another major original source of revenue, rent from land. It also raises profit rates and therefore keeps the market interest rate higher than it would otherwise be. The price of land relative to its rent—the number of years' rent usually paid to buy it—falls when interest rates rise, and rises when interest rates fall. The monopoly thus harms landowners in two ways. It slows the natural growth of both their rent and the sale price of their land relative to that rent.
The monopoly does raise mercantile profit rates and somewhat increases our merchants' gains. But by obstructing the natural growth of capital, it tends to reduce rather than increase the total revenue residents earn as profits of stock. A small profit on a large capital generally produces more revenue than a large profit on a small one. The monopoly raises the profit rate but prevents total profit from growing as high as it otherwise would.
The monopoly makes all three original sources of revenue—wages of labor, rent of land, and profits of stock—much smaller than they otherwise would be. To promote the narrow interest of one small group in one country, it harms every other group there and everyone in every other country.
Only by raising the usual profit rate has the monopoly benefited, or could it benefit, any particular group. A higher profit rate has all the harmful effects on the country already described. But it seems inseparably linked, if experience is a guide, with another effect perhaps worse than all the others combined. High profits seem everywhere to destroy the thrift normally found among merchants in other circumstances. When profits are high, thrift looks unnecessary, while costly luxury appears better suited to a merchant's wealth. Yet the owners of large mercantile capitals direct and lead a nation's industry. Their example influences the habits of industrious people much more than the example set by any other group. If an employer is careful and thrifty, workers are likely to be the same. If the employer lives extravagantly and without discipline, employees who follow the employer's direction at work will also follow that example in their lives. The people most disposed to accumulate capital thus fail to do so. Those who should add the most to the funds supporting productive labor add nothing from their revenue. Instead of growing, the country's capital gradually shrinks, and the amount of productive labor it supports declines day by day. Have the enormous profits of merchants in Cadiz and Lisbon enlarged the capital of Spain and Portugal? Have they eased the poverty or encouraged the industry of those two impoverished countries? Spending among merchants in those two trading cities has been so lavish that their huge profits seem barely enough to preserve the capital that earned them. Foreign capital is taking an ever greater part in the trade of Cadiz and Lisbon. Spanish and Portuguese merchants' own capital is increasingly inadequate to carry on that trade. Yet they try each day to tighten the painful restraints of their absurd monopoly to drive out foreign capital. Compare the habits of merchants in Cadiz and Lisbon with those in Amsterdam. You will see how differently high and low profits affect merchants' conduct and character. London merchants have not generally become such grand lords as the merchants of Cadiz and Lisbon. But they are not generally as careful and thrifty as Amsterdam's merchants either. Many London merchants are thought much richer than most merchants in Cadiz and Lisbon, though not quite as rich as many in Amsterdam. Their profit rate, however, is commonly much lower than the former's and considerably higher than the latter's. As the proverb says, easy come, easy go. People's usual spending habits seem to reflect not so much what they can actually afford as how easily they think they can earn money to spend.
So the one benefit the monopoly gives one group harms the country's general interest in many different ways.
At first, founding a great empire just to create a population of customers might seem an idea only a nation of shopkeepers would propose. But it makes no sense for a nation of shopkeepers. It makes perfect sense for a nation whose government is influenced by shopkeepers. Only statesmen of that kind could imagine a benefit in spending their fellow citizens' blood and money to found and maintain such an empire. Tell a shopkeeper, “Buy me a good estate and I will always buy my clothes from you, even if you charge more than other shops.” The shopkeeper is unlikely to accept. But if someone else buys you the estate, the shopkeeper will thank that person for ordering you to buy all your clothes at the shop. England bought a large estate in a distant country for some subjects who were unhappy at home. Its price was very low. Instead of the thirty years purchase ordinarily paid for land now, it cost little more than the equipment used to discover the place, survey the coast, and claim a fictitious possession of the country. The land was good and extensive. Its cultivators had plenty of good land and, for a time, were free to sell their produce wherever they liked. 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 wanted exclusive rights to their custom. The traders did not claim to have paid any of the original purchase price or the later cost of developing the land. Even so, they petitioned parliament to require America's cultivators to deal only with their shop: first, to buy all the European goods they needed there; second, to sell there whatever produce the traders wanted to buy. The traders did not want to buy everything. Some colonial goods, if imported into England, would compete with trades they themselves conducted at home. They were happy for colonists to sell those goods wherever they could—the farther away, the better. They therefore proposed restricting their market to countries south of Cape Finisterre. A clause of the famous act of navigation made this truly shopkeeper's proposal into law.
The main purpose, or perhaps the sole purpose, of Britain's rule over its colonies so far has been to maintain this monopoly. Their exclusive trade is thought to be the main benefit of provinces that have never contributed either revenue or military forces to support the government or defend the mother country. The monopoly is the chief sign of their dependence, and so far the only benefit gained from it. Whatever Britain has spent to maintain that dependence has really been spent to support the monopoly. Before the present disturbances began, the regular peacetime costs of the colonies included the pay of twenty regiments of foot soldiers, plus the artillery, stores, and extra provisions they needed. They also included a very large naval force kept constantly in service to guard the immense coast of North America and the West Indian islands against smugglers from other nations. All these peacetime costs fell on British revenue. They were also the smallest part of what ruling the colonies has cost the mother country. To calculate the total, add the interest on sums Britain spent at various times to defend the colonies because it regarded them as provinces under its rule. In particular, add the entire cost of the recent war and much of the war before it. The recent war was entirely a dispute over colonies. Its whole cost should fairly be charged to them, wherever in the world the money was spent, whether Germany or the East Indies. It came to more than ninety millions sterling. That includes not only the new debt 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 mainly a dispute over colonies. Its principal aim was to stop searches of colonial ships carrying on illegal trade with the Spanish Main. This entire expense is really a bounty paid to support a monopoly. Its supposed purpose was to encourage British manufacturing and expand British commerce. Its actual effect was to raise mercantile profit rates. It allowed our merchants to put more of their capital than they otherwise would into trade with slower, more distant returns than most other trades. If a bounty could have prevented those two outcomes, it might well have been worth paying.
Under the present system, then, Britain gains nothing but losses from the rule it claims over its 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
Proposing that Britain willingly give up all authority over its colonies would mean letting them choose their own officials, make their own laws, and decide for themselves on peace and war. No nation in the world has ever accepted such a proposal, and none ever will. No nation has willingly given up control of a province, however troublesome it was to govern and however little revenue it brought in compared with its costs. Giving it up might often serve a nation's interests, but would always wound its pride. Perhaps more important, it would always go against the private interests of its rulers. They would lose control over many trusted and profitable offices and many chances to gain wealth and status. Even the most unruly province, one that brings almost no benefit to most people, seldom fails to provide such opportunities. Even the most unrealistic enthusiast would hardly propose giving up a province with any serious hope of success. But if Britain did so, it would immediately be free of all the colonies' annual peacetime costs. It could also negotiate a trade treaty with them securing free trade. That would be better for most people, though less profitable for merchants, than the present monopoly. By parting as friends, the colonies' natural affection for the mother country might quickly return, though our recent disputes have nearly destroyed it. They might honor our trade treaty for centuries and favor us in war as well as in trade. Instead of rebellious, divided subjects, they could become our most faithful, affectionate, and generous allies. The parental affection on Britain's side and the filial respect on theirs might return, as they once existed between the colonies of ancient Greece and their mother cities.
To benefit the empire it belongs to, a province should provide enough public revenue in peacetime to cover its entire peacetime establishment and pay its share of the empire's general government. Every province adds something to the expense of that government. If a province fails to pay its share, another part of the empire bears an unfair burden. By the same reasoning, the extra public revenue each province provides in wartime should have the same proportion to the empire's total extra wartime revenue as its ordinary peacetime revenue has to the ordinary total. Britain clearly receives neither ordinary nor extraordinary revenue from its colonies in those proportions. Some suppose that the monopoly makes up for the colonies' lack of public revenue. They think it raises the private revenue of British people and lets them pay more tax. But I have tried to show that the monopoly, while imposing a heavy tax on the colonies and perhaps enriching one particular group in Britain, reduces rather than raises the revenue of most British people. It therefore reduces rather than increases their ability to pay tax. Those whose revenue it increases form a particular group. As I will try to show in the following book, it is absolutely impossible to tax them more heavily in proportion than other groups, and extremely unwise even to try. This group can therefore provide no special source of revenue.
The colonies could be taxed either by their own assemblies or by the parliament of Great Britain.
It seems unlikely that colony assemblies could ever be persuaded to raise enough public revenue from their constituents both to maintain their own civil and military establishments at all times and to pay their proper share of the cost of governing the British empire. Even England's parliament, under the sovereign's direct observation, took a long time to become willing to grant enough money to support its own country's civil and military establishments. That system could be established there only by distributing many of the offices, or control over appointing people to them, among individual members of parliament. Colony assemblies are distant from the sovereign, numerous, scattered, and differently organized. Managing them the same way would be very difficult even if the sovereign had the means available in England; those means are lacking. It would be impossible to distribute enough offices, or enough power to appoint their holders, from the empire's general government among the leading members of all the colonial assemblies. They would not give up their popularity at home to tax their constituents in support of a general government whose rewards went almost entirely to strangers. The administration also cannot avoid ignorance about the relative importance of members of these different assemblies. Trying to manage them this way would constantly lead to blunders and often cause offense. Such a system seems completely unworkable for them.
Besides, colonial assemblies cannot be expected to judge what is needed to defend and support the whole empire. They have not been entrusted with that responsibility. It is not their business, and they have no regular means of learning about it. A provincial assembly, like a parish council, can judge the affairs of its own area well, but it cannot properly judge the affairs of the whole empire. It cannot even properly judge its own province's share of the empire or its wealth and importance compared with other provinces. Those other provinces do not come under its observation and oversight. Only the assembly that observes and oversees the whole empire can judge what the empire needs for defense and support and what share each part should pay.
One proposal, then, is to tax colonies through requisitions. Britain's parliament would decide how much each colony must pay, and each provincial assembly would assess and collect that amount in the way best suited to its province. The assembly overseeing the empire would decide matters affecting the empire as a whole, while each colony's own assembly would still manage provincial affairs. The colonies would have no representatives in the British parliament. But experience gives no reason to think that parliament's demands would be unreasonable. England's parliament has never shown the slightest wish to burden the empire's unrepresented parts excessively. Guernsey and Jersey cannot resist parliament's authority, yet they pay less tax than any part of Britain. When parliament has tried to exercise its supposed right to tax the colonies, whether that right is valid or not, it has never asked for anything close to their fair share compared with what their fellow subjects at home pay. Besides, if colonial contributions rose and fell with the land-tax, parliament could not tax the colonies without taxing its own voters at the same time. In that case, one might regard the colonies as virtually represented in parliament.
Some empires do not tax all their provinces together as one body. Instead, the sovereign decides the amount each province must pay. In some provinces he assesses and collects it as he chooses, while in others he lets the provincial states decide how to assess and collect it. In some French provinces, the king chooses the taxes, then assesses and collects them as he wishes. From others he requests a set amount but leaves its assessment and collection to the provincial states. Under the proposed requisition system, Britain's parliament would have much the same relationship to colonial assemblies as the French king has to the states of French provinces that still retain their own states. Those French provinces are considered the best governed.
Under this plan, colonies would have no good reason to fear paying more than their fair share compared with their fellow citizens at home. But Britain might well fear that they would never pay their full share. For some time, Britain's parliament has lacked the established authority in the colonies that the French king has in those provinces with their own states. Unless colonial assemblies were more skillfully managed than they have been so far, they would probably not be very cooperative. They could find many excuses to evade or reject even parliament's most reasonable demands. Suppose a war with France begins. Ten millions must immediately be raised to defend the seat of the empire. The money must be borrowed against a parliamentary fund pledged to pay the interest. Parliament plans to fund part of it with a tax collected in Britain and the rest by demanding payments from all the colonial assemblies in America and the West Indies. Would lenders readily advance money against a fund partly dependent on the willingness of all those assemblies? They are far from the war's center and might sometimes think its outcome matters little to them. Lenders would probably advance no more than the British tax alone could cover. Britain would then bear all the resulting war debt, as it has done so far. One part of the empire, not the whole, would pay. Britain may be the only state since the world began whose expenses have grown as its empire has expanded, without any corresponding increase in resources. Other states have generally shifted much of the cost of defending their empires to their dependent provinces. Britain has allowed its dependent provinces to shift almost all that cost onto her. To put Britain on an equal footing with colonies that the law has so far treated as dependent, parliament would need a way to enforce its demands immediately if the assemblies tried to evade or reject them. It is hard to see what that way could be, and no one has explained it yet.
Suppose, instead, that Britain's parliament firmly establishes its right to tax the colonies without their assemblies' consent. Those assemblies, and all the leading men of British America, would immediately lose their importance. Men want a role in public affairs mainly because it makes them important. Every system of free government depends for its stability and endurance on the ability of most leading men—the natural aristocracy of each country—to keep or defend their standing. Their continual attacks on each other's standing, and their defense of their own, are the whole play of domestic faction and ambition. America's leading men, like those elsewhere, want to keep their importance. They feel, or imagine, that if their assemblies were reduced to humble agents carrying out Britain's parliament's orders, most of their own standing would vanish. They like to call those assemblies parliaments and regard them as equal in authority to Britain's parliament. So they have rejected the proposal to be taxed by parliamentary requisition. Like other ambitious and proud men, they have chosen instead to take up arms to defend 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 was nearing its end, Rome's allies demanded all the rights of Roman citizens. They had carried most of the burden of defending the state and expanding the empire. Rome refused, and the Social War began. During the war, Rome granted those rights to most of its allies, one by one, as each broke away from the general alliance. Britain's Parliament insists on taxing the colonies. The colonies refuse to be taxed by a Parliament in which they have no representatives. Suppose Great Britain offered each colony that left the general alliance seats in Parliament in proportion to its contribution to the empire's public revenue. That contribution would come from paying the same taxes as people in Britain. In return, the colony would receive the same freedom of trade as those fellow subjects. Its number of representatives would rise if its share of the revenue rose later. This would give the leading men in each colony a new way to become important and a much more attractive goal to pursue. Instead of scrambling for the small prizes in the petty lottery of colonial politics, they could hope to win one of the great prizes sometimes offered by the much bigger lottery of British politics. Their natural confidence in their own abilities and good luck would encourage that hope. Unless we find this way, or another, to preserve the importance and satisfy the ambition of America's leading men, they are unlikely ever to submit to us voluntarily. I see no more obvious way. And we should remember that every drop of blood shed to force them to submit belongs either to people who are our fellow citizens or to people we want to become our fellow citizens. Anyone who tells himself that our colonies, at this point, will be easily conquered by force alone is fooling himself. Those who now direct the decisions of what they call their Continental Congress feel a degree of importance that perhaps even Europe's most powerful subjects hardly feel. Shopkeepers, tradesmen, and attorneys have become statesmen and lawmakers. They are designing a new government for a vast empire. They expect it to become one of the world's greatest and most formidable empires, and that seems very likely. Perhaps five hundred different people work directly under the Continental Congress in various ways, and perhaps five hundred thousand work under them. All of them likewise feel an increase in their own importance, each according to his place. Nearly everyone in the governing party in America now imagines himself holding a position higher than any he has held before, or ever expected to hold. Unless he or his leaders are offered some new ambition, he will, if he has an ordinary man's courage, die defending that position.
President Heynaut observed that we now enjoy reading accounts of many small incidents of the Ligue. When those incidents occurred, they may not have seemed very important news. But, he says, everyone then imagined he mattered. Countless memoirs survive from that time, mostly written by people who enjoyed recording and making more of events in which they believed they had played an important part. Everyone knows how stubbornly Paris defended itself at that time, and how terrible a famine it endured rather than submit to the man who was the best, and later the most beloved, of all French kings. Most citizens, or those who governed most of them, fought to defend their own importance. They foresaw that they would lose it when the old government was restored. Unless our colonies can be persuaded to agree to a union, they are likely to defend themselves against even the best of mother countries as stubbornly as Paris defended itself against one of the best of kings.
Ancient people did not have the idea of representation. When people from one state received citizenship in another, they could exercise that right only by going there together to vote and debate with its people. Granting Roman citizenship to most of Italy's inhabitants completely destroyed the Roman republic. No one could any longer tell who was a Roman citizen and who was not. No tribe could identify its own members. Any mob could enter the people's assemblies, drive out the real citizens, and decide the republic's affairs as if the mob members were citizens. But if America sent fifty or sixty new representatives to Parliament, the doorkeeper of the House of Commons would have little trouble telling members from nonmembers. The union of Rome with its Italian allies therefore had to ruin the Roman constitution, but a union between Great Britain and her colonies is very unlikely to harm the British constitution at all. On the contrary, it would complete that constitution, which seems incomplete without the union. To be properly informed, an assembly that debates and decides the affairs of every part of the empire should certainly include representatives from every part. I do not claim, however, that this union would be easy to arrange or that it would face no difficulties, even great ones, in practice. Yet I have heard of no difficulty that seems impossible to overcome. The main difficulties may come not from the nature of the arrangement but from people's prejudices and opinions on both sides of the Atlantic.
We on this side of the ocean fear that large numbers of American representatives would upset the balance of the constitution. They might greatly increase either the crown's influence or the power of the people. But if American representatives were allotted in proportion to American tax revenue, the number of people the crown would need to influence would rise in exactly the same proportion as its means of influencing them. Those means, in turn, would rise in proportion to the number of people to influence. After the union, the monarchy and the democratic part of the constitution would have exactly the same relative strength as before.
People across the ocean fear that their distance from the seat of government would leave them open to many abuses. But they would have a substantial number of representatives in Parliament from the start, and those representatives could easily protect them from abuse. Distance would not greatly weaken a representative's dependence on the people who elected him. He would still know that he owed his seat in Parliament, and the standing it gave him, to their goodwill. It would therefore be in his interest to keep that goodwill. As a member of the legislature, he could use his authority to protest every abuse committed by a civilian or military officer in those distant parts of the empire. Besides, Americans might reasonably hope that their distance from the seat of government would not last very long. America has grown so rapidly in wealth, population, and development that, in little more than a century, perhaps, its tax revenue might exceed Britain's. The seat of the empire would then naturally move to the part contributing most to the defense and support of the whole empire.
The discovery of America and of a route to the East Indies around the Cape of Good Hope are the two greatest and most important events in recorded human history. Their effects have already been great. But only between two and three centuries have passed since these discoveries, far too little time to see the full extent of their effects. No one can foresee what benefits or disasters they may bring to humanity in the future. They connect some of the world's most distant regions. They let people in those regions meet one another's needs, add to one another's pleasures, and encourage one another's industry. In general, their effects would therefore seem beneficial. Yet for the native peoples of both the East and West Indies, any commercial benefits of these discoveries have been overwhelmed by the terrible disasters they caused. Those disasters seem to have arisen from circumstance, rather than from the discoveries themselves. When the discoveries happened, Europeans had so much greater military strength that they could commit every kind of injustice in those distant countries without punishment. Perhaps the native peoples will grow stronger in the future, or Europeans weaker. People in all parts of the world might then reach an equality in courage and strength. By making them fear one another, that equality alone could force independent nations to show some respect for one another's rights rather than act unjustly. Nothing seems more likely to bring about such equality than the sharing of knowledge and every kind of improvement that extensive trade between all countries naturally, and indeed necessarily, brings with it.
Meanwhile, one major effect of the discoveries has been to give the mercantile system a glory and prestige it could never otherwise have achieved. That system aims to enrich a great nation through trade and manufacturing rather than through improving and cultivating the land; it favors the work of towns over that of the countryside. Because of the discoveries, Europe's commercial towns are no longer manufacturers and carriers for only a small part of the world: the Atlantic coast of Europe and the lands around the Baltic and Mediterranean seas. They now manufacture for the many prosperous farmers of America. They also carry goods, and to some extent manufacture them, for almost all the nations of Asia, Africa, and America. Two new worlds have opened to their industry, each far larger than the old market. The market of one of them grows larger every day.
Countries with American colonies and direct trade with the East Indies certainly enjoy all the visible glory of this vast commerce. Other countries, though faced with restrictions meant to keep them out, often get a larger share of its real benefits. The colonies of Spain and Portugal, for example, encourage other countries' industry more than they encourage Spanish and Portuguese industry. Those colonies are said to consume more than three millions sterling a year in linen alone, though I cannot vouch for that figure. France, Flanders, Holland, and Germany supply almost all of it. Spain and Portugal supply only a small part. The capital that supplies all this linen to the colonies is distributed each year among the people of those other countries and provides them with revenue. Only its profits are spent in Spain and Portugal, where they help support the extravagant spending of merchants in Cadiz and Lisbon.
Even the rules each nation uses to reserve the trade of its colonies for itself often do more harm to the nation they are meant to favor than to those they exclude. The unjust suppression of other countries' industry comes back, so to speak, on the oppressors. It crushes their industry more than the industry of others. Under those rules, for example, a merchant in Hamburg must send linen meant for the American market through London. He must also obtain tobacco meant for the German market from London. He cannot send the linen directly to America or bring tobacco directly from there. This restriction probably makes him sell his linen somewhat more cheaply and buy his tobacco somewhat more dearly than he otherwise would. His profits are probably somewhat smaller. Yet in trade between Hamburg and London he certainly gets his capital back much sooner than he could in direct trade with America. That would be true even if American payments were as prompt as London's, which they are not. So the trade to which the rules confine the Hamburg merchant allows his capital to keep far more German industry continuously employed than direct American trade could. His own profit might be lower, but this trade cannot be less beneficial to his country. The opposite is true of the business into which the monopoly draws the London merchant's capital. That business may be more profitable for him than most others. But its capital returns so slowly that it cannot be more beneficial for his country.
After all the unjust efforts by Europe's countries to keep the entire benefit of their own colonies' trade for themselves, not one country has managed to keep anything entirely for itself except the cost of governing its colonies with oppressive authority in peace and defending that authority in war. Every country has kept all the disadvantages of owning its colonies. It has had to share the benefits of colonial trade 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 glance, a monopoly over the vast trade with America seems extremely valuable. In the confusion of politics and war, people driven by reckless ambition see it as a dazzling prize worth fighting for. But what makes it so dazzling—the enormous size of the trade—is exactly what makes the monopoly harmful. It causes this kind of business, which by its nature benefits the country less than most others, to absorb much more of the country's capital than it otherwise would.
As shown in the second book, the mercantile stock of a country naturally seeks the use most beneficial to that country. When merchants put their stock into the carrying trade, their country becomes a trading center for goods from all the countries they trade between. But a merchant who owns that stock naturally wants to sell as much of those goods as he can at home. This saves the trouble, risk, and cost of exporting them. He is therefore willing to sell them at home for a much lower price, and even at a somewhat lower profit, than he could expect by shipping them abroad. So he tries as far as possible to turn his carrying trade into foreign trade for domestic consumption. If instead he uses his stock to trade with other countries for domestic consumption, he will likewise want to sell as many as possible of the domestic goods he has gathered for export at home. In this way, he will try as far as possible to turn that foreign trade into home trade. The mercantile stock of every country naturally favors nearby uses and avoids distant ones. It favors trade that pays back frequently and avoids trade whose returns are far away and slow. It favors work that supports the most productive labor in the country where the stock belongs, or where its owner lives, and avoids work that supports the least there. In ordinary circumstances, it seeks the use that benefits its country most and avoids the one that benefits it least.
Suppose that in one of these distant kinds of business, normally less beneficial to the country, profits rise enough to outweigh the natural preference for nearer business. Higher profits will draw stock away from nearby work until profits in all kinds of work return to their proper level. But these higher profits show that, under society's present conditions, too little stock is going into distant work compared with other work. The society's stock is not divided among its various uses in the best way. Something is being bought too cheaply or sold too dearly. Some group of citizens is being treated unfairly, either paying more or receiving less than the fair balance that should, and ordinarily does, exist between different groups. The same amount of capital can never support as much productive labor in distant work as in nearby work. Still, distant work may be just as necessary to society's welfare because it may supply goods needed for many kinds of nearby work. If the profits on those goods are above their proper level, however, they will be sold too dearly, at more than their natural price. Everyone working in the nearer businesses will suffer to some degree from that high price. Their own interest therefore calls for some stock to move out of nearby work and into the distant business. This will lower its profits to their proper level and bring the goods it handles down to their natural price. In this unusual case, the public interest calls for stock to move away from work that is ordinarily more beneficial and toward work that is ordinarily less beneficial. Here too, people's natural interests and inclinations agree exactly with the public interest, just as they do in ordinary cases. They lead people to move stock from nearby work into distant work.
In this way, individuals' own interests and desires naturally lead them to put their stock into kinds of work that usually benefit society most. If that preference draws too much stock into such work, its profits fall while profits elsewhere rise. People then have a reason to correct the imbalance at once. Without any law intervening, people's own interests and desires therefore lead them to divide society's stock among all its different uses in proportions as close as possible to what benefits the whole society most.
All the various rules of the mercantile system upset this natural and most beneficial distribution of stock to some extent. The rules governing trade with America and the East Indies perhaps upset it more than any others, because trade with those two great continents absorbs more stock than any other two branches of trade. Yet the rules that cause the disruption differ between these two branches. Both rely mainly on monopoly, but on different kinds of monopoly. Indeed, one kind of monopoly or another seems to be the mercantile system's only tool.
In trade with America, each nation tries to reserve as much of its colonial market as possible for itself by completely barring all other nations from trading directly with its colonies. During most of the sixteenth century, the Portuguese tried to handle trade with the East Indies in the same way. Because they had been the first to discover the route, they claimed the sole right to sail in the Indian seas. The Dutch still bar all other European nations from trading directly with their spice islands. These monopolies are plainly directed against other European nations. Those nations are denied trade that might have made good use of some of their stock. They must also pay somewhat more for its goods than they would if they could import them directly from the countries producing them.
Since Portuguese power declined, however, no European nation has claimed an exclusive right to sail in the Indian seas. Their main ports are now open to ships from every European nation. But in every European country except Portugal and, in recent years, France, trade with the East Indies has been reserved for an exclusive company. This kind of monopoly is actually directed against the nation that grants it. Most of that nation's people are shut out of a trade that might make good use of some of their stock. They also have to pay somewhat more for the goods it trades in than they would if the trade were open to all their fellow citizens. Since the English East India company was established, for example, other people in England have not only been excluded from the trade. Through the price of East Indian goods they buy, they have also had to pay for any unusually high profits the company made because of its monopoly. They have had to pay for all the extraordinary waste inevitably caused by the fraud and abuse involved in managing such a large company as well. The foolishness of this second kind of monopoly is therefore much more obvious than that of the first.
Both kinds of monopoly disrupt the natural distribution of society's stock to some degree. But they do not always disrupt it in the same way.
The first kind of monopoly always draws more of society's stock into the trade it controls than would go there on its own.
The second kind may either draw stock into the trade it controls or keep stock out of it, depending on the circumstances. In poor countries, it naturally draws more stock into that trade than would otherwise go there. In rich countries, it naturally keeps out a great deal of stock that would otherwise go there.
Poor countries such as Sweden and Denmark, for example, probably would never have sent a single ship to the East Indies without an exclusive company controlling the trade. Setting up such a company necessarily encourages people to take the risk. Its monopoly protects them against all rivals in their home market. They have the same chance as traders from other nations in foreign markets. Their monopoly promises a large profit on a substantial quantity of goods and offers a chance of a substantial profit on a large quantity. Without this unusual encouragement, traders with little capital in such poor countries probably would never have risked their small stocks on trade with the East Indies. It must naturally have seemed a distant and uncertain undertaking to them.
A rich country such as Holland, by contrast, would probably send many more ships to the East Indies if trade were free than it actually sends. The Dutch East India company's limited stock probably keeps much large-scale mercantile capital out of that trade. Holland has so much mercantile capital that it continually overflows, so to speak. Some goes into other countries' public funds, some into loans to private merchants and risk-taking traders abroad, some into the most roundabout foreign trade for consumption, and some into the carrying trade. Every nearby use is already filled with all the capital that can earn a reasonable profit there. Dutch capital must therefore flow into the most distant uses. If East Indian trade were completely free, it would probably absorb most of this extra capital. The East Indies offer a market for European manufactures, and for American gold, silver, and other products, that is larger and more extensive than Europe and America together.
Any disruption of the natural distribution of stock necessarily harms the society where it occurs. This is true whether it keeps stock out of a trade it would otherwise enter or draws stock into one it would otherwise avoid. If Holland would trade more with the East Indies without an exclusive company than it currently does, it suffers a considerable loss when part of its capital is kept out of the business best suited to that place. Likewise, if Sweden and Denmark would trade less with the East Indies without an exclusive company than they currently do, or, more likely, not trade with them at all, they too suffer a considerable loss. Part of their capital has been drawn into a business poorly suited, to some degree, to their present conditions. For now, they might do better to buy East Indian goods from other nations, even at somewhat higher prices. Otherwise, they send so much of their limited capital into a distant trade that pays back so slowly and supports so little productive labor at home. At home, productive labor is badly needed: so little has been done and so much remains to do.
Even if a country could not trade directly with the East Indies without an exclusive company, this would not mean that it should establish such a company. It would only mean that, under those conditions, it should not trade directly with the East Indies. The Portuguese show clearly that such companies are not generally needed for East Indian trade. For more than a century, they conducted almost all of that trade without an exclusive company.
It has been said that no private merchant could easily have enough capital to keep agents and representatives in various East Indian ports. He would need them to buy goods for the ships he might send there from time to time. Without them, the difficulty of finding a cargo might often make his ships miss the season for sailing home. The cost of such a long delay would use up all the profit from the venture and often cause a considerable loss. But if this argument proved anything, it would prove that no major branch of trade could operate without an exclusive company. That contradicts the experience of every nation. No single private merchant has enough capital in any major branch of trade to run all the smaller branches needed to support its main branch. But when a nation is ready for a major branch of trade, some merchants naturally put their capital into the main business and others into its smaller supporting branches. All its branches can operate in this way, though a single private merchant very rarely provides the capital for them all. So if a nation is ready for East Indian trade, some of its capital will naturally spread across all its branches. Some merchants will find it profitable to live in the East Indies and use their capital there to buy goods for ships sent by other merchants living in Europe. The settlements various European nations have gained in the East Indies could make it safe and easy for their merchants to live there. To do so, those settlements would need to be taken from the exclusive companies that now hold them and placed directly under the protection of each nation's sovereign. At least this would work for merchants from the nations that own the settlements. Suppose that at a particular time a country's capital, left to itself, does not send enough into East Indian trade to run all its branches. That would show that the country is not yet ready for the trade. For the time being, it would do better to buy the East Indian goods it needs from other European nations, even at higher prices, than to import them directly from the East Indies. What it loses through those high prices would rarely equal what it would lose by diverting a large share of its capital from other work that is more necessary, more useful, or better suited to its circumstances and position 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
Europeans have many substantial settlements on the coast of Africa and in the East Indies. But in neither place have they established colonies as numerous and prosperous as those in the islands and on the continent of America. Africa, like several countries grouped under the name of the East Indies, is inhabited by peoples considered uncivilized. Yet these peoples were far from being as weak and defenseless as the miserable and helpless Americans. Their numbers were also much greater, in proportion to the natural fertility of the lands they inhabited. Even the peoples considered most barbarous in Africa or the East Indies were herders; that included the Hottentots. But everywhere in America except Mexico and Peru, the native peoples were only hunters. An equally fertile area can support far more herders than hunters. So it was harder in Africa and the East Indies to drive out the inhabitants and spread European plantations across most of their land. As noted already, exclusive companies are also ill suited to building new colonies. They have probably been the main reason for the limited growth of colonies in the East Indies. The Portuguese traded with both Africa and the East Indies without exclusive companies. Their settlements at Congo, Angola, and Benguela on the African coast, and at Goa in the East Indies, have suffered greatly from superstition and every kind of bad government. Yet they somewhat resemble the colonies in America, and some of their inhabitants are Portuguese families established there for several generations. The Dutch settlements at the Cape of Good Hope and Batavia are now the largest European colonies in Africa or the East Indies. Both have especially favorable locations. The Cape of Good Hope was inhabited by a people almost as uncivilized, and just as unable to defend themselves, as the natives of America. It is also a halfway stop between Europe and the East Indies. Nearly every European ship stops there on its outward and return journeys. Supplying these ships with fresh provisions of every kind, fruit, and sometimes wine provides a very large market for the colonies' surplus produce. Batavia plays the same role among the main countries of the East Indies that the Cape plays between Europe and every part of the East Indies. It lies on the busiest route from Indostan to China and Japan, roughly halfway along it. Almost all ships traveling between Europe and China also call at Batavia. In addition, it is the center and chief marketplace of what is called the country trade of the East Indies. This includes trade conducted by Europeans and by native Indians. Ships sailed by inhabitants of China, Japan, Tonquin, Malacca, Cochin-China, and the island of Celebes are often seen in its harbor. These excellent locations have allowed both colonies to overcome any barriers to their growth that an exclusive company's oppressive character may have put in their way. Batavia has also overcome the added disadvantage of perhaps the most unhealthy climate in the world.
Although the English and Dutch companies have founded no sizable colonies apart from those two, both have made major conquests in the East Indies. Their way of ruling their new subjects shows the character of an exclusive company especially clearly. In the spice islands, the Dutch reportedly burn whatever spices a fertile season yields beyond what they expect to sell in Europe at a profit they consider sufficient. On islands where they have no settlements, they pay people to gather the young blossoms and green leaves of the clove and nutmeg trees that grow naturally there. This cruel policy has reportedly almost wiped out the trees. Even on islands where they do have settlements, they have reportedly greatly reduced their numbers. The Dutch suspect that, if even their own islands produced much more than their market required, the natives might manage to sell some to other nations. They believe the best way to protect their monopoly is to allow no more to grow than they themselves take to market. Through various forms of oppression, they have reduced the population of several of the Moluccas almost to the number needed to provide fresh provisions and other necessities to their small garrisons and to ships that occasionally arrive for spices. Yet those islands were reportedly fairly well populated even under Portuguese rule. The English company has not yet had time to put such a thoroughly destructive system in place in Bengal. Its plan of government, though, points in exactly the same direction. I have reliable assurance that a chief, meaning the head clerk of a trading station, has often ordered a peasant to plow up a fertile field of poppies and plant rice or another grain. The stated reason was to prevent a shortage of food. The real reason was to let the chief sell a large stock of opium he happened to hold at a better price. On other occasions the order has been reversed. A fertile field of rice or other grain has been plowed up for poppies when the chief expected unusually high profits from opium. Company servants have repeatedly tried to monopolize important branches of both foreign and inland trade for their own benefit. If allowed to continue, they would inevitably have tried, sooner or later, to limit the production of goods they monopolized. They would limit it not only to the amount they could buy, but to the amount they expected to sell at a profit they considered sufficient. In a century or two, the English company's policy would probably have become as completely destructive as the Dutch policy.
Yet nothing could be more clearly against these companies' real interests as sovereigns of the countries they have conquered than this destructive plan. In nearly every country, the ruler's revenue comes from the people's revenue. The more income the people earn, and thus the more their land and labor produce each year, the more they can pay the ruler. The ruler therefore benefits from increasing that yearly produce as much as possible. This is especially true of a ruler whose revenue comes mainly from rent on land, as in Bengal. That rent must depend on the amount and value of what the land produces, and both depend on the size of the market. The amount produced will more or less match what paying customers can consume. The price they pay will depend on how fiercely they compete to buy it. Such a ruler therefore benefits from opening up the widest possible market for the country's produce. The ruler should allow complete freedom of commerce to bring in the greatest possible number of competing buyers. For this reason the ruler should abolish not just monopolies, but every restriction on carrying domestic produce from one part of the country to another, exporting it abroad, or importing any goods for which it can be exchanged. That is the best way to increase both the amount and value of the produce, and thus the ruler's share of it and revenue.
But it seems a company of merchants cannot think of itself as a sovereign, even after becoming one. The company still sees trade—buying in order to resell—as its main business. Absurdly, it treats being sovereign as merely an addition to being a merchant, a role that should serve its trade. It uses its rule to buy more cheaply in India and sell at a greater profit in Europe. For that purpose it tries to keep as many competitors as possible out of the markets it governs. It thereby cuts at least some of those countries' surplus produce down to what barely meets the company's demand, or to what it expects to sell in Europe at a profit it considers reasonable. Its habits as a merchant thus lead it almost inevitably, perhaps without realizing it, to prefer the small, short-lived profit of a monopolist to the large, lasting revenue of a sovereign. In time, those habits would lead it to treat the countries it governs much as the Dutch treat the Moluccas. As sovereigns, the East India company benefits when European goods taken to its Indian dominions sell there as cheaply as possible, and when Indian goods taken from those dominions bring the highest possible price there. As merchants, it benefits from the opposite. As sovereigns, its interests exactly match those of the country it governs. As merchants, its interests directly conflict with them.
If a company's government is fundamentally, and perhaps incurably, flawed even in its direction from Europe, its administration in India is still more flawed. That administration must be a council of merchants. Merchants are certainly highly respectable, but nowhere does that profession give them the kind of authority that inspires respect and willing obedience without force. Such a council can secure obedience only through the soldiers who accompany it. Its government is therefore necessarily military and despotic. Yet the council's real business is trade. Its job is to sell European goods consigned to it on its masters' account, and in return buy Indian goods for the European market. It must sell the first for as much as possible and buy the second for as little as possible. So it must exclude as many rivals as it can from the market where it does business. In its conduct of company trade, then, the administration has the same character as the directors. It makes government serve the monopoly. As a result it restricts the natural growth of at least some of the country's surplus produce to what barely meets the company's demand.
Moreover, every member of the administration trades to some degree on his own account, and forbidding this is futile. It would be utterly foolish to expect a clerk in a large trading office, ten thousand miles away and almost completely out of his masters' sight, to stop doing all business on his own account merely because they order him to. He would have to abandon forever every hope of making the fortune he has the means to make, and accept the moderate salary his masters pay him. Even those salaries can rarely rise: they are generally as high as the company's actual trade profits can support. Under these conditions, banning the servants' private trade can have scarcely any result except to let senior servants oppress juniors they dislike, under the pretense of enforcing their masters' orders. The servants naturally try to establish the same monopoly for their own private trade as for the company's public trade. If allowed to do as they please, they will establish it openly and directly, simply forbidding everyone else to trade in the goods they choose. This may actually be the least oppressive way to establish it. But if orders from Europe forbid that approach, they will still try to establish the same kind of monopoly secretly and indirectly, in a way far more destructive to the country. They will use all the power of government and distort the administration of justice to harass and ruin anyone who competes with the commerce they carry on through agents, whether hidden or merely not publicly acknowledged. The servants' private trade will naturally cover a much 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 trade. The company's monopoly can only restrict the natural growth of the surplus produce that would have gone to Europe under free trade. The servants' monopoly restricts the growth of whatever produce they choose to trade in, whether meant for local consumption or for export. It therefore lowers cultivation throughout the country and reduces its population. Whenever the servants choose to deal in any kind of produce, even life's necessities, their monopoly tends to limit its quantity to what they can afford to buy and expect to resell at a profit that satisfies them.
Their position also makes the servants more inclined than their masters to defend their own interests against the country's with harsh severity. Their masters own the country, so they cannot avoid caring somewhat about its interests. The servants do not own it. Their masters' real interests, if they understood them, match those of the country. [But the interests of individual owners of India stock are by no means identical to those of the country whose government their votes give them some influence over.—See book v, chap. 1, part ii.] When they oppress it, the chief causes are ignorance and narrow-minded prejudices about trade. But the servants' real interests do not match the country's, and perfect knowledge would not necessarily end their oppression. Accordingly, the rules sent from Europe have often been weak, but most have been well meant. Rules made by servants in India have sometimes shown more intelligence, and perhaps less good intention. It is an extraordinary government in which every administrator wants to leave the country, and with it his government duties, as soon as he can. Once he has left and taken all his wealth with him, he has no personal stake in the country's fate, even if an earthquake swallows it whole the next day.
Nothing I have said is meant to cast a hateful accusation on the servants of the East India company in general, much less on any individual. I criticize the system of government and the position it puts them in, not the character of those who have served in it. They did what their circumstances naturally led them to do. Their loudest critics probably would not have behaved any better. In war and diplomacy, the councils of Madras and Calcutta have on several occasions acted with the resolve and sound, decisive judgment that would have honored the Roman senate in the republic's best days. Yet their members were trained for professions quite unlike war or politics. Their situation alone, without training, experience, or even an example to follow, seems to have brought out in them at once the great qualities it demanded. It gave them abilities and virtues they could hardly have known they possessed. If it sometimes inspired unexpectedly generous and courageous actions, we should not be surprised if it also led them at other times to actions of a very different kind.
Exclusive companies, then, are harmful in every respect. They always cause some inconvenience to the countries where they are established and destroy the countries unlucky 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.
The mercantile system chiefly tries to enrich a country by encouraging exports and discouraging imports. Yet for some goods it appears to do the opposite: it discourages exports and encourages imports. It still claims to have the same ultimate goal, enriching the country through a favorable balance of trade. It discourages the export of manufacturing materials and tools so our workers have an advantage and can sell more cheaply than foreign workers in every foreign market. By restricting exports of a few relatively low-priced goods, it hopes to create much larger exports of more valuable goods. It encourages imports of manufacturing materials so our people can process them more cheaply and thereby avoid larger, more valuable imports of finished goods. I have not seen, at least in our statutes, any incentive to import tools used in trades. Once manufacturing reaches a certain scale, making those tools itself becomes an important field with many substantial manufactures. Giving their imports special encouragement would interfere too much with those businesses. As a result, the imports have often been banned rather than encouraged. For example, 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 the ban, and later laws extended it and made it permanent.
Imports of manufacturing materials have sometimes been encouraged by exempting them from duties paid on other goods, and sometimes by paying bounties.
Provided they are properly declared at the customs office, the following materials have been encouraged by exemption from all duties: sheep's wool from various countries; cotton wool from every country; undressed flax; most dyeing drugs; 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 several other manufacturing materials. Merchants and manufacturers may have pressured lawmakers into granting these exemptions for their private interests, as they have with most other rules on commerce. Still, these exemptions are entirely fair and reasonable. The public would certainly gain if the exemptions could be extended to every other manufacturing material, as far as the state's financial needs allow.
But the greed of our large manufacturers has sometimes pushed these exemptions far beyond what can reasonably be called raw materials for their work. The 24th Geo. II. chap. 46 reduced the duty on imported foreign brown linen yarn to just 1d. the pound. It replaced much higher duties: 6d. the pound on sail yarn, 1s. the pound on all French and Dutch yarn, and £2:13:4 upon the hundred weight of all spruce or Muscovia yarn. Our manufacturers were soon dissatisfied even with that reduction. The 29th of the same king, chap. 15, removed this small duty on imported brown linen yarn altogether. That same law paid a bounty on exports of British and Irish linen priced at no more than 18d. the yard. Yet the various steps needed to prepare linen yarn employ much more labor than the later step of turning yarn into linen cloth. Leaving aside the work of growing and dressing flax, at least three or four spinners are needed to keep one weaver steadily employed. More than four-fifths of all the labor needed to make linen cloth goes into making linen yarn. But our spinners are poor people, usually women scattered throughout the country with no backing or protection. Our great master manufacturers earn their profits by selling the weavers' finished work, not the spinners' work. They want to sell the finished cloth for as much as possible and buy its materials for as little as possible. By pressuring lawmakers into paying bounties on exports of their linen, imposing high duties on imports of all foreign linen, and entirely banning domestic use of some kinds of French linen, they try to sell their own goods at the highest possible price. By encouraging foreign linen yarn imports to compete with yarn made by our own people, they try to buy the poor spinners' work at the lowest possible price. They are just as determined to hold down their own weavers' wages as the poor spinners' earnings. Neither their efforts to raise finished cloth prices nor their efforts to lower raw material prices are intended to help workers. Our mercantile system mainly encourages industry that serves the rich and powerful. It too often neglects or oppresses industry that serves the poor and needy.
Both the bounty on linen exports and the duty exemption on foreign yarn imports were granted for only fifteen years and extended twice. They expire at the end of the parliamentary session immediately following the 24th of June 1786.
Bounties encouraging the import of manufacturing materials have mainly been limited to materials brought from our American plantations.
The first such bounties were granted around the beginning of this century on imports of naval stores from America. These included timber suitable for masts, yards, and bowsprits, as well as hemp, tar, pitch, and turpentine. The bounty of £1 the ton on timber for masts and the bounty of £6 the ton on hemp also applied to imports from Scotland into England. Both rates stayed unchanged until the bounties were allowed to expire separately: 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 changed several times while they were in force. At first the bounty on tar was £4 the ton, the bounty on pitch was the same, and the bounty on turpentine was £3 the ton. Later the £4 the ton bounty on tar applied only to tar made in a particular way. The rate for other good, clean, marketable tar dropped to £2:4s. the ton. The pitch bounty likewise fell to £1, and the turpentine bounty to £1:10s. the ton.
The second bounty on imported manufacturing materials, in chronological order, was granted by the 21st Geo. II. chap.30 on indigo from the British plantations. Under the act, plantation indigo qualified for a bounty of 6d. the pound when it was worth three-fourths of the price of the best French indigo. This bounty, like most others, was initially granted for a limited time. Several extensions kept it in force, but its rate fell to 4d. the pound. It was allowed to expire at the end of the parliamentary session following the 25th March 1781.
The third bounty of this kind was granted around the time we were beginning alternately to court and quarrel with our American colonies. The 4th. Geo. III. chap. 26 granted it on hemp or undressed flax imported from the British plantations. It lasted twenty-one years, from the 24th June 1764 to the 24th June 1785. Its rate was £8 the ton for the first seven years, £6 for the second seven, and £4 for the third seven. It did not apply to Scotland. Though some hemp is grown there in small amounts and of inferior quality, Scotland's climate is not very suitable for it. Paying such a bounty on Scottish flax imported into England would have discouraged production in the southern part of the united kingdom too much.
The fourth such bounty was granted by the 5th Geo. III. chap. 45 on wood imported from America. It lasted nine years, from the 1st January 1766 to the 1st January 1775. For the first three years, the rate was £1 for every hundred-and-twenty good deals and 12s. for each load of other squared timber containing fifty cubic feet. For the next three years, the rates were 15s. for deals and 8s. for other squared timber. For the final three years, they were 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 on raw silk imported from the British plantations. It lasted twenty-one years, from the 1st January 1770 to the 1st January 1791. Its rate was £25 for every hundred pounds value for the first seven years, £20 for the second seven, and £15 for the third seven. Raising silkworms and preparing silk take so much manual labor, and labor is so expensive in America, that I have been told even this large bounty was unlikely to have much effect.
The sixth such bounty was granted by 11th Geo. III. chap. 50 on imports of pipe, hogshead, and barrelstaves and leading from the British plantations. It lasted nine years, from 1st January 1772 to the 1st January 1781. For a specified amount of each material, the rate was £6 for the first three years, £4 for the next three, and £2 for the last three.
The seventh and last such bounty was granted by the 19th Geo. III chap. 37 on hemp imported from Ireland. Like the bounty on hemp and undressed flax from America, it lasted twenty-one years, from the 24th June 1779 to the 24th June 1800. Its term was also divided into three periods of seven years. In each period its rate was the same as the American bounty's rate. Unlike that bounty, however, it did not cover undressed flax. Covering it would have discouraged flax cultivation in Great Britain too much. When this last bounty was granted, the British and Irish legislatures were not getting along much better than the British and American legislatures had been earlier. Still, one hopes this gift to Ireland has been made under better circumstances than all the gifts to America. Goods that received these bounties when imported from America faced substantial duties when imported from any other country. People treated the interests of the American colonies as identical to those of the mother country. They considered the colonies' wealth our wealth. They said that, through the balance of trade, any money sent to the colonies all came back to us. They argued we could not become even a farthing poorer through anything we spent on them. The colonies were ours in every sense, they said, so spending on them improved our own property and profitably employed our own people. I think I need say nothing more now to show the foolishness of a system that disastrous experience has already exposed. If our American colonies had really been part of Great Britain, these bounties could have been viewed as bounties on production. They would still have faced all the objections to such bounties, but no others.
Exports of manufacturing materials are sometimes discouraged by outright bans and sometimes by high duties.
Our woolen manufacturers have been more successful than any other group of workers in convincing lawmakers that the nation's prosperity depends on the success and growth of their particular business. They secured a monopoly against consumers by getting foreign woolen cloth imports banned altogether. They also secured a monopoly against sheep farmers and wool growers by getting exports of live sheep and wool banned in the same way. Many laws meant to protect government revenue have rightly been criticized for imposing heavy penalties on acts that were always considered innocent before laws made them crimes. But I would argue that even our cruelest revenue laws are mild compared with some laws our merchants and manufacturers have pressured lawmakers into passing to protect their own absurd, oppressive monopolies. Like Draco's laws, these laws might be said to be written entirely in blood.
Under the 8th of Elizabeth, chap. 3, someone who exported sheep, lambs, or rams faced, for a first offense, permanent loss of all his goods and a year's imprisonment. Then his left hand was to be cut off in a market town on market day and nailed up there. A second offense was to be judged a felony and punished by death. The law seems intended to prevent sheep of our breed from reproducing abroad. Under the 13th and 14th of Charles II. chap. 18, exporting wool became a felony, and the exporter faced the same penalties and forfeitures as any felon.
For the sake of the nation's reputation for humanity, let us hope neither law was ever enforced. As far as I know, the first has never been directly repealed, and serjeant Hawkins seems to regard it as still in force. It may, however, have been repealed in effect by the 12th of Charles II. chap. 32, sect. 3. Without explicitly removing earlier penalties, that act imposes a new one: 20s. for each sheep exported or that someone tried to export, together with forfeiture of the sheep and of the owner's share of them. The second law was explicitly repealed by the 7th and 8th of William III. chap. 28, sect. 4. That act declares: “The statute of the 13th and 14th of king Charles II. against the export of wool, among other matters in that act, made this offense a felony. Because the severity of that penalty has prevented effective prosecution of offenders, the part of that act that makes the offense a felony is 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 under this milder law are still severe. Some come from this law; others come from earlier laws that it did not repeal. Besides losing the goods, anyone who exports wool, or tries to, must pay 3s. for every pound weight of wool. That is about four or five times its value. A merchant or anyone else convicted of this offense loses the right to collect any debt or account owed to him by a factor or anyone else. Whatever his fortune, and whether or not he can pay the heavy penalties, the law aims to ruin him completely. But most people's morals are not yet as corrupt as those of the people who devised this law. I have never heard of anyone using this clause. If the convicted person cannot pay the penalties within three months after judgment, he is transported for seven years. If he returns before then, he faces the penalties for a felony, without benefit of clergy. A shipowner who knows about the offense loses his entire interest in the ship and its equipment. The captain and sailors, if they know about it, lose all their goods and possessions and spend three months in prison. A later law makes the captain's prison term six months.
To prevent exports, the law places very burdensome and oppressive restrictions on all inland trade in wool. Wool cannot be packed in a box, barrel, cask, case, chest, or any other container. It can only be packed in leather or pack-cloth bundles. The outside must show the words WOOL or YARN in large letters, at least three inches long. Otherwise the owner or packer loses both wool and package and pays 8s. for every pound weight. Within five miles of the coast, wool cannot be loaded onto a horse or cart or carried by land except between sunrise and sunset. Otherwise the wool, horses, and vehicles are forfeited. The hundred, or local district, nearest the sea coast from or through which wool is carried or exported must pay £20 if the wool is worth less than £10. If it is worth more, the district pays three times its value, together with three times the legal costs. The case must be brought within the year. Collection can be enforced against any two residents, whom the local court must repay through a charge on the other residents, as in robbery cases. Anyone who settles with the hundred for less than the penalty goes to prison for five years; anyone else may prosecute. These rules apply throughout the kingdom.
But in Kent and Sussex the restrictions are even more troublesome. Every owner of wool within ten miles of the sea coast must, within three days after shearing, report in writing to the nearest customs officer the number of fleeces and where they are stored. Before moving any of them, the owner must likewise report the number and weight of the fleeces, the name and address of the buyer, and the intended destination. No one within fifteen miles of the sea in those counties may buy wool without first giving the king a bond promising not to sell any of it 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. The offender also pays 3s. for every pound weight. If anyone stores wool within fifteen miles of the sea without making the required entry, it must be seized and forfeited. Anyone who then claims the seized wool must give the treasury security to pay three times the legal costs, besides all other penalties, if the court finds against him.
With these restrictions on inland trade, we can hardly expect coastal trade to be free. An owner who carries wool, or has it carried, to a coastal port or place for shipment by sea to another coastal port or place must first register it at the port of departure. The entry must give the weight, marks, and number of packages and must be made before the wool comes within five miles of that port. Otherwise the wool, horses, carts, and other vehicles are forfeited, and the owner faces the penalties under the other laws against wool exports. Yet this law (1st of William III. chap. 32) is generous enough to say that a person may carry wool home from the place where it was shorn, even if that place is within five miles of the sea. Within ten days after shearing, and before moving the wool, that person must sign and give the nearest customs officer a statement of the true number of fleeces and where they are kept. The wool cannot be moved again unless that officer receives a signed notice of the intended move three days beforehand. A bond must guarantee that wool shipped along the coast will be landed at the specific port listed in the outward entry. If any part of it is landed without an officer present, the wool is forfeited, as other goods would be, and the usual additional penalty of 3s. for every pound weight also applies.
Our woolen manufacturers confidently claimed that these extraordinary restrictions were justified because English wool had a special quality superior to wool from any other country. They said foreign wool could not produce acceptable cloth without some English wool mixed in, and that fine cloth could not be made without it. Therefore, they said, if England could stop all wool exports, it could monopolize almost the entire woolen trade of the world. With no rivals, it could charge whatever it wanted and soon gain incredible wealth through a highly favorable balance of trade. Like most claims confidently made by a substantial group, this one was—and remains—believed without question by many more people: almost everyone unfamiliar with the woolen trade or who has not investigated it closely. Yet the claim that English wool is needed to make fine cloth is so false that English wool is actually entirely unfit for that purpose. Fine cloth is made entirely of Spanish wool. Even mixing English wool with Spanish wool would somewhat spoil and lower the quality of the cloth.
An earlier part of this work showed that these rules have pushed the price of English wool not just below its natural price today, but far below its actual price in the time of Edward III. The price of Scotch wool reportedly fell by about half when the Union brought it under the same rules. The Reverend Mr John Smith, the careful and knowledgeable author of the Memoirs of Wool, observes that the best English wool generally sells in England for less than much poorer wool usually sells for in Amsterdam. Lowering this commodity's price below its natural and proper level was the stated aim of these rules. There seems little doubt that they had their intended effect.
One might think this lower price discouraged wool production and must have greatly reduced its annual output. Perhaps not below its former level, but below what it would probably be today if a free and open market had let the price reach its natural and proper level. I am inclined to think, though, that these rules can have had little effect on annual output, even if they had some effect. Producing wool is not the sheep farmer's main reason for putting his work and stock to use. He expects to profit more from the carcass than from the fleece. In many cases, the usual price of the carcass must make up for any shortfall in the usual price of the fleece. An earlier part of this work noted: "Any rules that push the price of wool or raw hides below its natural level must tend to raise the price of butcher's meat in a developed and cultivated country. The price of both large and small livestock raised on developed and cultivated land must cover the rent that the landlord and the profit that the farmer can reasonably expect from that land. Otherwise they will soon stop raising the animals. So whatever portion of this price is not paid by the wool and hide must be paid by the carcass. The less the farmer gets for one, the more he must get for the other. Landlords and farmers do not care how the price is divided among an animal's parts, provided they receive the full amount. So in a developed and cultivated country, such rules cannot greatly affect their interests as landlords and farmers, though higher food prices may affect them as consumers." By that reasoning, this fall in wool prices is unlikely to reduce annual wool output in a developed and cultivated country. It could do so only insofar as a higher price of mutton reduces demand, and thus production, for that particular kind of butcher's meat. Even this effect is probably not very large.
But even if the effect on annual quantity has been small, one might think the effect on quality must be great. The quality of English wool may not have fallen below its former level, but it might be assumed to have fallen below the level it would naturally have reached with today's improvements in cultivation. That decline might seem almost proportional to the decline in price. Quality depends on breeding, pasture, and the care and cleanliness of the sheep throughout the fleece's growth. One might naturally expect farmers to pay attention to these things only in proportion to the reward they expect for the work and expense from the fleece's price. But the fleece's quality largely depends on the animal's health, growth, and size. In some respects, the same care that improves the carcass also improves the fleece. Despite the lower price, English wool is said to have improved considerably even during the present century. It might have improved more with a better price. The low price may have held back improvement, but it certainly has not stopped it entirely.
These harsh rules, then, seem to have affected neither the annual quantity nor the quality of wool as much as one might expect. I think it likely they have affected quality considerably more than quantity. And although wool growers must have been hurt to some degree, they seem, on the whole, to have been hurt much less than one might imagine.
These points do not justify a complete ban on wool exports. They do, however, fully justify a substantial tax on them.
To harm one group of citizens solely to help another plainly violates the fair and equal treatment that a ruler owes all groups of subjects. Yet the ban does harm wool growers to some degree solely to help manufacturers.
Every group of citizens has a duty to support the ruler or the commonwealth. A tax of five or even ten shillings on every tod of wool exported would bring in considerable revenue for the ruler. It would hurt growers somewhat less than a ban, because it probably would not lower the price of wool as much. Manufacturers would still gain enough. Though they might pay somewhat more for wool than under the ban, they would still pay at least five or ten shillings less than foreign manufacturers, who would also have to pay shipping and insurance costs. It is hard to imagine another tax that could bring in substantial revenue while inconveniencing anyone so little.
Despite all the penalties supporting it, the ban does not stop wool exports. Everyone knows that large quantities are exported. The large price difference between the home and foreign markets makes smuggling so tempting that even the law's full severity cannot stop it. These illegal exports benefit only the smugglers. Legal exports subject to a tax would bring the ruler revenue. By avoiding the need for other, perhaps more burdensome and inconvenient taxes, they might benefit every group of subjects in the state.
Fuller's earth, or fuller's clay, was thought necessary to prepare and clean woolen goods. Its export has faced nearly the same penalties as wool exports. Even tobacco-pipe clay has been subject to the same prohibitions and penalties. Though known to be different from fuller's clay, it resembles it, and fuller's clay could sometimes be exported under its name.
The 13th and 14th of Charles II. chap, 7 prohibited the export not only of raw hides but also of tanned leather, except as boots, shoes, or slippers. This gave our bootmakers and shoemakers a monopoly at the expense of both graziers and tanners. Later laws let tanners escape this monopoly by paying a small tax of only one shilling per hundred weight of tanned leather, weighing one hundred and twelve pounds. They also secured a refund of two-thirds of the excise taxes on their product, even when they exported it without any further processing. All leather goods may be exported duty-free, and the exporter also gets a refund of all excise taxes. Our graziers remain subject to the old monopoly. Graziers live apart, scattered across the country, and find it very hard to join together either to impose monopolies on their fellow citizens or to free themselves from monopolies others impose on them. Manufacturers of every kind gather in large groups in all major cities and can easily do both. Even cattle horns cannot be exported. In this respect the two minor trades of horn-working and comb-making have 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
Bans and taxes on exporting goods that are partly, but not fully, manufactured are not limited to leather. Whenever any work remains before a product is ready to use, our manufacturers think they should be the ones to do it. Woolen yarn and worsted cannot be exported, under the same penalties as wool. Even undyed cloth is taxed when exported, so our dyers have gained a partial monopoly at the expense of our clothiers. The clothiers probably could have defended themselves against it, but most of our leading clothiers are also dyers. The export of watchcases, clock cases, and dial plates for clocks and watches has also been banned. It seems our clockmakers and watchmakers do not want competition from foreigners to raise the prices they pay for these parts.
Some old laws from Edward III, Henry VIII. and Edward VI. banned the export of all metals. Only lead and tin were exempt, probably because these metals were abundant and their export made up a substantial part of the kingdom's trade at the time. To encourage mining, the 5th of William and Mary, chap.17, exempted iron, copper, and mundic metal made from British ore. The 9th and 10th of William III. chap 26 later allowed the export of every kind of copper bar, foreign as well as British. Unmanufactured brass, including what are called gun-metal, bell-metal, and shroff metal, still cannot be exported. Manufactured goods made of brass can all be exported duty-free.
Where exports of manufacturing materials are not completely banned, they often face substantial duties.
The 8th Geo. I. chap.15 made exports of goods produced or manufactured in Great Britain duty-free, even if earlier laws had imposed duties on them. It excepted the following goods: alum, lead, lead ore, tin, tanned leather, copperas, coal, wool, cards, white woolen cloth, lapis calaminaris, skins of every sort, glue, rabbit hair or wool, hare wool, all kinds of hair, horses, and lead litharge. Apart from horses, every item is either a manufacturing material, a partly made product that can serve as material for further work, or an instrument of trade. The law keeps all previous duties on these goods, including the old subsidy and one per cent. on exports.
The same law exempts many foreign substances used by dyers from all duties when imported. But it puts a specific, though fairly small, duty on each when exported again. Our dyers evidently thought it served them to encourage imports of these substances by removing all duties, but also to discourage exports a little. Their greed behind this ingenious trade policy probably defeated its own purpose. It made importers more careful not to bring in more than the home market needed. So the home market was always likely to have a tighter supply, and these goods were likely to cost somewhat more there than if exports had been as free as imports.
Under that law, gum senega, or gum arabic, was one of the named dyeing substances and could be imported duty-free. Its re-export did face a small duty, only threepence per hundred weight. At the time, France had exclusive trade with the country around the Senegal, the main source of these substances. It was hard to supply the British market by importing them directly from where they grew. So the 25th Geo. II. allowed gum senega to be imported from any part of Europe, contrary to the general terms of the act of navigation. But the law did not mean to encourage trade so opposed to the general principles of England's mercantile policy. It charged ten shillings per hundred weight on such imports, with no refund of that duty on subsequent exports. The successful war that began in 1755 gave Great Britain the same exclusive trade with those countries that France had enjoyed before. Once peace came, our manufacturers tried to use that advantage to establish a monopoly against both the growers and the importers of gum senega. So the 5th of Geo. III. chap. 37 restricted its export from his majesty's African dominions to Great Britain. It subjected the trade to all the restrictions, rules, confiscations, and penalties applying to the listed products of Britain's colonies in America and the West Indies. Import duty was only sixpence per hundred weight, but duty on re-export was an enormous one pound ten shillings per hundred weight. Our manufacturers intended that the entire output of those countries should enter Great Britain. To let them buy at their own price, they also wanted the cost of any re-export to be high enough to discourage it. As on many other occasions, their greed defeated their purpose. This enormous duty offered such a strong incentive to smuggle that large quantities were secretly exported, probably to every manufacturing country in Europe, and especially to Holland, from both Great Britain and Africa. For that reason, the 14th Geo. III. chap.10 reduced the export duty to five shillings per hundred weight.
The book of rates used for the old subsidy valued beaver skins at six shillings and eight pence each. Before 1722, the various import subsidies and taxes totaled one-fifth of that valuation, or sixteen pence per skin. On export, all these duties were refunded except half the old subsidy, which was only twopence. The import duty on such an important manufacturing material was thought too high. In 1722, the listed value fell to two shillings and sixpence. That reduced import duty to sixpence, and only half of that was refundable on export. The same successful war put the country that produced the most beaver under British rule. Beaver skins were among the listed commodities whose export from America was restricted to the British market. Our manufacturers soon saw how they could take advantage of this. In 1764, the import duty on beaver skin was cut to one penny, but the export duty rose to sevenpence per skin, with no refund of the import duty. The same law imposed an export duty of eighteen pence per pound on beaver wool or woumbs. It did not change the import duty on that product, which at the time was between fourpence and fivepence per piece when imported by British people in British ships.
Coal can be viewed both as manufacturing material and as an instrument of trade. It has therefore faced heavy export duties, now (1783) exceeding five shillings per ton, or fifteen shillings per chaldron, Newcastle measure. In most cases that is more than the coal's original value at the mine, or even at the port from which it is exported.
Actual instruments of trade, however, are usually kept from being exported by outright bans rather than high duties. For example, the 7th and 8th of William III chap.20, sect.8 bans the export of frames or machines used to knit gloves or stockings. Exporting them, or trying to, means losing the equipment and paying forty pounds, half to the king and half to whoever reports or prosecutes the offense. Similarly, the 14th Geo. III. chap. 71 bans exports to foreign countries of any tools used to manufacture cotton, linen, woolen goods, or silk. Besides losing the tools, the offender must pay two hundred pounds. The ship's captain must also pay two hundred pounds if he knowingly allows the tools to be loaded aboard.
When such heavy penalties applied to exporting inanimate tools of trade, it was hardly likely that skilled workers themselves would be free to leave. Under the 5th Geo. I. chap. 27, anyone convicted of persuading a skilled worker in any British manufacture to go abroad to practice or teach his trade faces a fine of up to one hundred pounds for the first offense and three months in prison, remaining there until the fine is paid. For a second offense, the court can set any fine, with twelve months in prison and continued confinement until it is paid. Under the 23d Geo. II. chap. 13, the first-offense penalty rises to five hundred pounds for each worker persuaded to go, twelve months in prison, and continued confinement until payment. A second offense brings one thousand pounds, two years in prison, and continued confinement until payment.
Under the first of these two laws, if there is proof that someone has been trying to persuade a skilled worker to go abroad, or that such a worker has promised or contracted to go there for those purposes, the court can require the worker to provide a guarantee that he will not leave the country. It can imprison him until he provides it.
Suppose a skilled worker has gone abroad and is practicing or teaching his trade there. A royal minister or consul abroad, or one of the current royal secretaries of state, may warn him to return. If he does not return to this kingdom within six months of the warning and then live here continuously, he can no longer inherit a bequest made to him within the kingdom. He cannot act as executor or administrator of anyone's estate or acquire land here by inheritance, bequest, or purchase. He also loses all his land, goods, and possessions to the king, is treated as a foreigner in every respect, and loses the king's protection.
I hardly need to say how these rules conflict with the much-praised freedom of the subject. We claim to guard that freedom very carefully, yet here we plainly sacrifice it for the worthless interests of our merchants and manufacturers.
The supposedly admirable aim of all these rules is to expand our manufacturing, not by improving it, but by holding back our neighbors' manufacturing and removing as much competition as possible from those troublesome, hated rivals. Our master manufacturers think it reasonable to monopolize the skill of all their fellow citizens. In some trades they limit how many apprentices can work at once, and in every trade they require a long apprenticeship. That way they try to keep knowledge of each trade in as few hands as possible. Yet they do not want any of those few to travel abroad and teach foreigners.
The only purpose of production is consumption. Producers' interests deserve consideration only insofar as doing so helps consumers.
This principle is so obvious that trying to prove it would be absurd. Yet the mercantile system almost constantly sacrifices consumers' interests for producers'. It seems to treat production, rather than consumption, as the ultimate purpose of all work and trade.
Restrictions on imports of foreign goods that compete with our own agricultural or manufactured goods plainly sacrifice home consumers for producers. Producers alone benefit when consumers must pay the higher price that this monopoly almost always brings.
Export bounties on some products likewise exist entirely for producers' benefit. Home consumers first have to pay the tax that funds the bounty. Then they pay an even greater cost when the bounty raises the price of the product at home.
Under the famous trade treaty with Portugal, duties stop consumers from buying a product that our own climate cannot produce from a neighboring country. They must instead buy it from a distant one, although that distant country's product is admittedly worse. Home consumers bear this inconvenience so that producers can export some of their products to that distant country on better terms than would otherwise be allowed. Consumers must also pay any rise in the home price of those very products caused by these forced exports.
But the laws governing our American and West Indian colonies sacrifice home consumers for producers even more extravagantly than our other trade rules do. A great empire has been established solely to create a nation of customers required to buy from our producers' shops all the goods those producers can supply. To give producers the slight increase in price that this monopoly might bring, home consumers have had to bear the whole cost of maintaining and defending that empire. For this purpose alone, the two most recent wars have cost more than two hundred millions and created more than a hundred and seventy millions of new debt. That comes on top of all spending for the same purpose in earlier wars. Interest on this debt alone exceeds not only the entire extra profit supposedly earned from monopolizing colonial trade—though no one could ever reasonably claim such a profit was earned—but even the whole value of that trade, or the whole average annual value of goods exported to the colonies.
It is not hard to tell who designed this whole mercantile system. It was not the consumers, whose interests were completely ignored. It was the producers, whose interests received so much attention. Among producers, merchants and manufacturers were by far its main architects. The trade rules described in this chapter have especially favored manufacturers. They have sacrificed not only consumers' interests but also those of other groups of producers.
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 Treat the Produce of Land as Either the Only or the Main Source of Every Country's Revenue and Wealth.
Explaining agricultural systems of political economy will not take as long as the explanation I thought necessary for the mercantile or commercial system.
As far as I know, no nation has ever adopted the system that treats the produce of land as the only source of every country's revenue and wealth. It currently exists only in the theories of a few highly learned and clever men in France. It would hardly be worth examining at length the errors of a system that has never done harm anywhere and probably never will. Still, I will try to explain its main outlines as clearly as I can.
Mr Colbert, the famous minister of Lewis XIV., was honest, hardworking, and knowledgeable about details. He had great experience and skill in examining public accounts. In short, he had every ability needed to bring order to the collection and spending of public revenue. Unfortunately, he accepted all the prejudices of the mercantile system. That system is based on restrictions and regulation, and it would naturally appeal to a diligent, painstaking administrator used to organizing the departments of government offices and putting checks in place to keep each within its proper role. He tried to regulate the work and trade of a great country as if they were departments of a government office. Instead of letting everyone pursue their own interests in their own way under a fair system of equality, liberty, and justice, he gave extraordinary privileges to some industries and imposed equally extraordinary restrictions on others. Like other European ministers, he favored the work of towns over that of the countryside. He even tried to hold back rural work to support work in towns. To keep food cheap for town residents, and so encourage manufacturing and foreign trade, he banned all exports of grain. This shut country people out of every foreign market for by far the most important product of their work. Alongside this ban were old French provincial laws restricting grain shipments between provinces and arbitrary, humiliating taxes on farmers in almost all provinces. Together these policies held French agriculture far below the level it would naturally have reached in such fertile soil and such a favorable climate. Different parts of the country felt this discouragement and decline to different degrees, and many investigations sought its causes. One cause appeared to be Mr Colbert's policies favoring the work of towns over that of the countryside.
As the proverb says, if you bend a rod too far one way, you have to bend it just as far the other way to straighten it. The French philosophers who proposed treating agriculture as the only source of every country's revenue and wealth seem to have followed that saying. Mr Colbert's plan certainly placed too high a value on the work of towns compared with the countryside. Their system seems just as certainly to place too low a value on it.
They divide everyone thought to contribute to the country's annual output from land and labor into three classes. First are landowners. Second are cultivators, including farmers and rural laborers, whom they give the special title "productive class." Third are artisans, manufacturers, and merchants, whom they try to diminish by calling the "barren" or "unproductive class."
Landowners contribute to annual output through what they occasionally spend on improving land: buildings, drains, fences, and other improvements they make or maintain. These allow cultivators to produce more using the same capital, so that they can pay more rent. The higher rent can be seen as interest or profit on the landowner's spending or capital used to improve the land. In this system that spending is called ground expenses (depenses foncieres).
Cultivators or farmers contribute to annual output through what the system calls original and annual expenses (depenses primitives, et depenses annuelles) on cultivating land. Original expenses include farming tools, livestock, seed, and the support of the farmer's family, servants, and animals through at least much of the first year of occupancy, until the land begins to bring a return. Annual expenses include seed, wear on farming tools, and yearly support for the farmer's servants and livestock. They also include support for family members insofar as they work as servants in cultivation. The produce left to the farmer after rent should first repay all his original expenses, along with the usual profit on stock, within a reasonable time and at least during his term of occupancy. Second, each year it should repay all his annual expenses, also with the usual profit on stock. These two types of expenses are two kinds of capital that the farmer uses to cultivate land. Unless both are regularly repaid with a reasonable profit, he cannot compete with other occupations. His own interest will make him leave farming as soon as he can and find another occupation. The produce needed to keep him farming must be treated as a fund reserved for cultivation. If a landlord takes it, he inevitably lowers the output of his own land. In a few years the farmer will be unable to pay not only this excessive rent, but even the reasonable rent that the landlord could otherwise have received. The landlord is properly entitled only to the net produce left after all the necessary expenses of producing the total, or gross, output have been fully paid. Because the cultivators' labor yields this net produce after fully covering those costs, this system gives them the honorable name "productive class." Their original and annual expenses are likewise called productive expenses. Besides replacing their own value, they lead to the yearly production of this net produce.
The system also calls ground expenses—what the landlord spends on improving land—productive expenses. Until the increase in rent has fully repaid all those expenses plus the usual profit on stock, both church and king should treat that additional rent as untouchable. Neither tithes nor taxes should apply to it. Otherwise the church, by discouraging land improvement, discourages growth in its future tithes; the king does the same to future taxes. In a well-ordered system, then, ground expenses eventually not only repay their full value but also lead to a new net produce. That is why this system counts them as productive expenses.
Yet the landlord's ground expenses and the farmer's original and annual expenses are the only three kinds of expenses this system regards as productive. All other expenses, and all other groups of people—even those generally regarded as highly productive—are classified as completely barren and unproductive.
Artisans and manufacturers in particular are generally thought to add greatly to the value of raw produce from the land. But this system treats them as completely barren and unproductive. It claims their work merely replaces the stock that employs them, along with its usual profits. This stock consists of the materials, tools, and wages their employer advances them. It is the fund for employing and supporting them. The profit is the fund for supporting the employer. When the employer advances materials, tools, and wages to the workers, he also advances what he needs for his own support. He generally sets that support in proportion to the profit he expects from the price of their work. If the selling price does not repay the support he has advanced himself, as well as the materials, tools, and wages he has advanced his workers, it plainly does not repay his entire expense. Thus profit on manufacturing stock is not, like land rent, a net produce left over after fully repaying every expense needed to obtain it. The farmer's stock yields him a profit too, just as the master manufacturer's stock does. But the farmer's stock also pays rent to someone else; the manufacturer's does not. So spending on employing and supporting artisans and manufacturers merely keeps its own value in existence, so to speak. It creates no new value and is therefore wholly barren and unproductive. By contrast, spending on employing farmers and rural laborers not only keeps its own value in existence but produces new value: the landlord's rent. It is therefore productive spending.
Stock used in trade is as barren and unproductive as stock used in manufacturing. It merely maintains its own value without creating new value. Its profits simply repay what the employer advances for his own support while he uses the stock, until it brings in a return. They repay only part of the expense of using it.
The labor of artisans and manufacturers, according to this system, never adds anything to the total annual value of the land's raw produce. It does greatly raise the value of particular portions. But meanwhile, it uses up other portions of exactly equal value. At no moment does it increase the value of the whole. Take a person who makes the lace for a pair of fine ruffles. Sometimes that person's work raises perhaps a pennyworth of flax to a value of £30 sterling. At first it looks as though this multiplies the value of that portion of raw produce about seven thousand and two hundred times. In fact it adds nothing to the total annual value of raw produce. Making the lace may cost the worker two years labor. The £30 earned on its completion merely repays what that worker has advanced for food and other necessities during those two years. Each day's, month's, or year's work adds value to the flax only equal to the value of what the worker consumes in that day, month, or year. At no moment, therefore, does the worker add anything to the annual total value of the land's raw produce. The worker constantly consumes an amount of that produce equal to the value being created. The extreme poverty of most workers in this costly but trivial trade may convince us that the price of their work does not ordinarily exceed what they need to live. It is different for farmers and rural laborers. In ordinary cases they continuously produce the landlord's rent as additional value, beyond fully replacing everything consumed and every expense of employing and supporting 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 add to their society's revenue and wealth only by saving. In this system's terms, they must go without something: they must give up part of the funds meant to support them. Each year they reproduce only those funds. So unless they save some of them each year and give up some of what they could enjoy, their work cannot increase their society's revenue and wealth at all. Farmers and farmworkers, by contrast, can use up all the funds meant to support them and still increase their society's revenue and wealth. Beyond what they need to live on, their work produces a net product every year. Any increase in that product necessarily increases their society's revenue and wealth. Nations made up largely of landowners and farmers, such as France or England, can therefore grow rich through work and enjoyment. Nations made up chiefly of merchants, artisans, and manufacturers, such as Holland and Hamburgh, can grow rich only through saving and self-denial. Just as the interests of nations in these different situations differ, so do the usual traits of their people. In the first kind, generosity, openness, and friendliness naturally become common traits. In the second, narrowness, pettiness, and selfishness take hold, along with an aversion to social pleasures and enjoyment.
The unproductive class—the merchants, artisans, and manufacturers—is supported and employed entirely at the expense of the other two classes, landowners and farmers. These two classes supply both its raw materials and the funds that support it: the grain and livestock it consumes while working. Ultimately, landowners and farmers pay both the wages of every worker in the unproductive class and the profits of every employer in it. Those workers and employers are really servants of the landowners and farmers. They are simply servants who work outdoors, just as household servants work indoors. Both kinds are supported at the expense of the same masters. Both kinds of labor are equally unproductive. Neither adds anything to the total value of the land's raw produce. Rather than increasing that value, their labor is a cost paid out of it.
Even so, the unproductive class is not just useful to the other two classes; it is extremely useful. Thanks to the work of merchants, artisans, and manufacturers, landowners and farmers can get the foreign goods and domestically made products they need in exchange for much less of their own labor's produce. Otherwise they would have to import or make these goods for themselves, clumsily and without skill. The unproductive class also frees farmers from many concerns that would distract them from cultivating the land. By concentrating on farming, they raise enough additional produce to cover the whole cost of supporting and employing that class, whether landowners or farmers bear the cost. Though the work of merchants, artisans, and manufacturers is itself entirely unproductive, it therefore helps indirectly to increase the land's produce. It raises the productive power of productive labor by allowing farmers to focus on cultivating land. Often the plow moves more easily and does better work because of the labor of someone whose job is far removed from a plow.
It can never benefit landowners and farmers to restrict or discourage the work of merchants, artisans, and manufacturers in any way. The more freedom this unproductive class has, the more competition there will be in all its trades. The other two classes will then get both foreign goods and domestic manufactures more cheaply.
Nor can it benefit the unproductive class to oppress the other two. That class is supported and employed by the land's surplus produce: what remains after first providing for farmers and then for landowners. The larger the surplus, the more support and employment the unproductive class receives. Perfect justice, perfect liberty, and perfect equality are the simple secret to ensuring the greatest prosperity for all three classes.
The merchants, artisans, and manufacturers in trading states such as Holland and Hamburgh, which consist chiefly of this unproductive class, are likewise supported and employed entirely at the expense of landowners and farmers. The difference is that most of those landowners and farmers live at a very inconvenient distance from the people they supply with raw materials and with funds for their support. They live in other countries and are governed by other governments.
Still, these trading states are extremely useful to the inhabitants of those other countries. They partly fill an important gap: they supply the merchants, artisans, and manufacturers whom those inhabitants ought to have at home but lack because of some fault in their policies.
It can never benefit these landowning nations, if I may call them that, to discourage or harm the trading states' industries by imposing high duties on their trade or goods. Such duties make the goods dearer. They can only lower the real value of the surplus produce of the land, with which the goods are bought, whether directly or with the money received for that produce. They can only discourage growth in that surplus, and therefore discourage improvement and cultivation of the land. To raise the value of the surplus and encourage its growth, along with improvement and cultivation, the most effective course would instead be to give the trade of all such trading nations complete freedom.
Complete freedom of trade would also be the most effective way, in time, to bring these landowning nations all the artisans, manufacturers, and merchants they needed at home. It would fill their important gap in the most suitable and beneficial way.
As the surplus produce of their land kept growing, these nations would eventually accumulate more capital than could earn the ordinary rate of profit from improving and cultivating land. The excess would naturally go into employing artisans and manufacturers at home. These workers would find both their raw materials and their means of support nearby. Even with much less skill, they might immediately be able to produce as cheaply as the small artisans and manufacturers in trading states, who must bring both from farther away. Even if a lack of skill kept them from producing as cheaply for a while, they would have a nearby market. They could sell there as cheaply as the traders' artisans and manufacturers, whose goods had to travel a great distance to reach it. As their skills improved, they would soon sell more cheaply. The trading states' artisans and manufacturers would thus immediately face competition in the landowning nations' markets. Soon they would be undersold and pushed out altogether. As improved skills gradually lowered the price of the landowning nations' manufactures, sales would eventually spread beyond the home market into many foreign markets. There, too, these producers would gradually push out many manufacturers from trading nations.
As both raw and manufactured produce kept increasing in these landowning nations, they would eventually have more capital than agriculture and manufacturing could employ at the ordinary rate of profit. The excess capital would naturally go into foreign trade. It would export the nation's raw and manufactured goods that exceeded demand at home. In exporting their own country's produce, the merchants of a landowning nation would have the same sort of advantage over trading nations' merchants that its artisans and manufacturers had over theirs. The landowning nation's merchants could find their cargo, stores, and provisions at home, while the others had to seek them far away. Even with less skill in navigation, they could therefore sell that cargo just as cheaply in foreign markets as the trading nations' merchants. With equal skill, they could sell it more cheaply. Soon they would compete with the trading nations in this branch of foreign trade, and eventually push them out altogether.
Under this open and generous system, then, the best way for a landowning nation to develop its own artisans, manufacturers, and merchants is to give those of every other nation complete freedom of trade. This raises the value of its own land's surplus produce. The continuing growth of that surplus gradually builds a fund that, in time, necessarily brings forth all the artisans, manufacturers, and merchants the nation needs.
When a landowning nation instead restricts foreign trade with high duties or bans, it necessarily harms its own interests in two ways. First, it raises the price of all foreign goods and every kind of manufacture. This lowers the real value of the surplus produce of its own land, which it uses to buy those goods and manufactures, either directly or with the money earned from selling the produce. Second, it gives its own merchants, artisans, and manufacturers a kind of monopoly over the home market. This raises profits from trade and manufacturing relative to profits from agriculture. It therefore either draws capital out of agriculture or stops capital that would otherwise enter it. This policy discourages agriculture in two ways: by lowering the real value of its produce, and thus its rate of profit; and by raising the rate of profit in every other occupation. Agriculture becomes less profitable, while trade and manufacturing become more profitable, than they would otherwise be. Everyone's self-interest then leads them to shift as much capital and work as they can from agriculture to the other occupations.
Even if this restrictive policy let a landowning nation develop its own artisans, manufacturers, and merchants somewhat sooner than free trade would—a claim that is quite doubtful—it would develop them prematurely, before it was ready for them. By promoting one kind of industry too quickly, it would weaken a more valuable kind. It would promote an industry that replaces the stock invested in it, along with the ordinary profit, at the expense of one that also yields a net product beyond replacing that stock and its profit: a rent freely available to the landowner. By encouraging barren, unproductive labor too soon, it would weaken productive labor.
Mr Quesnai, the highly ingenious and thoughtful author of this system, uses several sets of arithmetic formulas to show how, in his view, the total annual produce of the land is divided among the three classes just described. They also show how the unproductive class's labor only replaces the value of what that class consumes and does not increase the total value at all. He gives the first set the special name Economical Table. It shows how he thinks the produce is divided under perfect liberty, and therefore the greatest prosperity. In that state, annual produce yields the greatest possible net product, and each class receives its proper share of the whole. Later sets of formulas show how he thinks the produce is divided under various restrictions and regulations. In those conditions, either landowners or the barren, unproductive class is favored over farmers, and one or the other takes part of the share that properly belongs to the productive class. In this system, each such encroachment violates the natural division that perfect liberty would establish. It must therefore reduce, to some extent, both the value and the total amount of annual produce from one year to the next. It must bring about a gradual decline in society's real wealth and revenue. That decline will be faster or slower depending on how far the encroachment goes, and thus on how far the division established by perfect liberty is violated. The later formulas show the differing degrees of decline that this system associates with differing degrees of violation of that natural division.
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 theoretical physicians seem to have believed that the human body could stay healthy only with one exact routine of diet and exercise. In their view, even the slightest departure from that routine must cause some illness or disorder in proportion to the departure. Experience, though, suggests that the body often stays perfectly healthy, at least to all appearances, under a great variety of routines. Some are even generally thought to be quite unhealthy. A healthy body seems to have some unknown ability to protect itself, preventing or correcting many harmful effects of even a very poor routine. Mr Quesnai, who was himself a physician and a very theoretical one, seems to have thought similarly about a society. He apparently believed it could thrive only under one exact routine: perfect liberty and perfect justice. He seems to have overlooked people's constant natural effort to improve their own situation. In a society, that effort can prevent and correct many harmful effects of economic policies that are somewhat biased and oppressive. Such policies certainly slow a nation's natural progress toward wealth and prosperity, more or less. But they cannot always stop it altogether, much less reverse it. If no nation could prosper without perfect liberty and perfect justice, no nation in the world would ever have prospered. Fortunately, nature has provided society with ample ways to remedy many harmful effects of human folly and injustice. It has similarly equipped the human body to remedy many effects of laziness and excess.
The chief error of this system, however, seems to be its description of artisans, manufacturers, and merchants as entirely barren and unproductive. The following points show why that description is inappropriate:
First, this class admittedly reproduces the value of what it consumes each year. At a minimum, it preserves the stock or capital that supports and employs it. On that basis alone, it seems quite wrong to call the class barren or unproductive. We would not call a marriage barren if it produced just a son and daughter to replace the father and mother. The population would not grow, but it would stay the same. Farmers and farmworkers do, of course, produce an annual net product beyond replacing the stock that supports and employs them. This provides the landowner with rent free of that expense. A marriage producing three children is certainly more productive than one producing only two. Similarly, the labor of farmers and farmworkers is certainly more productive than that of merchants, artisans, and manufacturers. But one class's greater output does not make the other barren or unproductive.
Second, for the same reason, it seems quite wrong to treat artisans, manufacturers, and merchants like household servants. Servants' labor does not preserve the fund that supports and employs them. Their masters bear the entire cost of supporting and employing them, and their work does not repay it. Their services generally disappear at the moment they are performed. They do not become goods that can be sold to replace the value of the servants' wages and support. By contrast, the work of artisans, manufacturers, and merchants naturally becomes just such salable goods. That is why, in the chapter where I discuss productive and unproductive labor, I counted artisans, manufacturers, and merchants as productive workers and household servants as barren or unproductive ones.
Third, however one looks at the matter, it seems wrong to say that the labor of artisans, manufacturers, and merchants does not increase society's real revenue. Suppose, for example, as this system seems to do, that the value of what this class consumes each day, month, and year exactly equals the value of what it produces over the same periods. It still would not follow that its labor adds nothing to real revenue—the real value of the annual produce of society's land and labor. Suppose an artisan produces ten pounds worth of work in the first six months after harvest and consumes ten pounds worth of grain and other necessities over those same months. The artisan has nevertheless added ten pounds in value to the annual produce of society's land and labor. While consuming a half-year's revenue of ten pounds worth of grain and necessities, the artisan has made work worth just as much. That work can buy another half-year's revenue for the artisan or someone else. The value of what has been consumed and produced during those six months is therefore twenty pounds, not ten. It is possible, of course, that no more than ten pounds worth of this value ever existed at a single moment. But if a soldier or household servant had consumed the ten pounds worth of grain and necessities instead, the portion of annual produce existing at the end of the six months would have been ten pounds less than it actually is thanks to the artisan's work. So even if the value of the artisan's output at any one moment is no greater than what the artisan consumes, the value of goods actually in the market at every moment is greater because of that output than it would otherwise be.
When advocates of this system say that artisans, manufacturers, and merchants consume as much as they produce in value, they probably mean only that their revenue, or the funds available for their consumption, equals the value they produce. But if they had said this more accurately, a reader might readily have realized that any savings from this revenue must increase society's real wealth to some extent. To put together anything resembling an argument, they therefore had to phrase the claim as they did. Even if things were actually as their claim seems to assume, the argument would still not establish their conclusion.
Fourth, farmers and farmworkers can no more increase real revenue without saving than artisans, manufacturers, and merchants can. By real revenue I mean the annual produce of their society's land and labor. A society can increase that annual produce in only two ways: first, by improving the productive power of the useful labor it already supports; or second, by increasing the amount of that labor.
The productive power of useful labor improves when, first, workers become more capable and, second, their machinery improves. The labor of artisans and manufacturers can be divided into more tasks than that of farmers and farmworkers, with each worker's task made simpler. It can therefore benefit much more from both kinds of improvement [See book i chap. 1.] In this respect, farmers have no advantage over artisans and manufacturers.
An increase in the useful labor actually employed in a society depends entirely on an increase in the capital that employs it. That increase in capital, in turn, must exactly equal the savings from revenue, whether made by the people who manage how the capital is employed or by others who lend it to them. If merchants, artisans, and manufacturers are naturally more inclined to save than landowners and farmers, as this system seems to suggest, they are correspondingly more likely to increase useful employment in their society. They are therefore more likely to increase its real revenue, the annual produce of its land and labor.
Fifth and last, suppose that a country's inhabitants derived all their revenue, as this system seems to assume, from the amount of food and other necessities that their work could obtain for them. Even on that assumption, and with other things equal, the revenue of a trading and manufacturing country must always be much greater than that of a country without trade or manufacturing. Trade and manufacturing let a country import more necessities each year than its own land, at its present level of cultivation, could provide. Town residents often own no land, but their work draws enough raw produce from other people's land to provide both their materials and their necessities. A town always stands in this relationship to its surrounding countryside, and an independent country can often stand in the same relationship to other independent countries. Holland, for example, gets much of what it needs from other countries: live cattle from Holstein and Jutland, and grain from nearly every country in Europe. A small amount of manufactured goods buys a large amount of raw produce. Thus a trading and manufacturing country naturally uses a small part of its manufactured output to buy a large part of other countries' raw produce. A country without trade or manufacturing, by contrast, generally has to give up a large part of its raw produce to buy a very small part of other countries' manufactured goods. The first country exports goods that support and provide comforts for only a few people and imports necessities and comforts for many. The second exports necessities and comforts for many and imports them for only a few. The first country's people must therefore enjoy far more necessities than their own land could yield at its present level of cultivation. The second country's people must enjoy far less.
Despite all its flaws, this system may come closer to the truth than anything yet published on political economy. Anyone wishing to examine the principles of this important subject carefully should therefore consider it. Its claim that working the land is the only productive labor may be too narrow. Yet it rightly presents national wealth as the consumable goods that society's labor produces each year, not as a store of money that cannot itself be consumed. It also presents perfect liberty as the only effective means of making that annual production as great as possible. In these respects its teaching seems both correct and open-minded. It has many followers. People like paradoxes and like to seem to understand things beyond ordinary people's grasp. So its paradoxical claim that manufacturing labor is unproductive has probably helped attract admirers. For some years its followers have formed a fairly large group, known in French intellectual circles as the Economists. Their writings have certainly helped their country. They have brought into general discussion many subjects that had never been properly examined, and have also influenced public administration to some degree in favor of agriculture. As a result of their arguments, French agriculture has been freed from several burdens it previously faced. A lease that remains valid against every future buyer or owner of the land can now last twenty-seven years instead of nine. The old provincial restrictions on moving grain between provinces have been completely removed. In ordinary cases, freedom to export grain to all foreign countries has become the general law of the kingdom. This group has written many works, covering not only political economy—the nature and causes of the wealth of nations—but every other branch of civil government. In all these works, they follow Mr Quesnai's doctrine without question or any noticeable variation. There is consequently little variety among most of their writings. The clearest and best-organized account of the doctrine appears in a short book by Mr Mercier de la Riviere, formerly intendant of Martinico, called The natural and essential Order of Political Societies. The group's admiration for its founder, himself a very modest and unpretentious man, rivals that shown by any ancient philosophers toward the founders of their schools. The Marquis de Mirabeau, a diligent and respected writer, says: “There have been, since the world began, three great inventions that have chiefly given stability to political societies, apart from the many other inventions that have enriched and adorned them. The first is writing. It alone lets people pass down their laws, agreements, records, and discoveries without changing them. The second is money, which connects all the relationships among civilized societies. The third is the economical table, which results from the other two and completes both by fulfilling their purpose. It is the great discovery of our age, though our descendants will reap its benefits.”
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
The economic policies of modern European nations have favored manufacturing and foreign trade, the work of towns, over agriculture, the work of the countryside. Other nations have taken the opposite approach, favoring agriculture over manufacturing and foreign trade.
China's policies favor agriculture above every other occupation. In China, a farmworker is said to be as much better off than an artisan as an artisan is better off than a farmworker in most of Europe. Everyone in China chiefly wants a small piece of land, either owned or leased. Leases there are said to be available on very moderate terms and to give tenants adequate security. The Chinese have little respect for foreign trade. “Your beggarly commerce!” was how the mandarins of Pekin used to describe 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.]. Apart from trade with Japan, the Chinese conduct little or no foreign trade themselves in their own ships. They admit foreign ships into only one or two of their ports. Foreign trade in China is therefore restricted on every side to a much smaller scale than it would naturally reach if Chinese and foreign ships alike were allowed more freedom.
Manufactured goods often carry a great deal of value in a small space, so they cost less to ship between countries than most raw produce. In nearly every country, they are therefore the chief support of foreign trade. In countries smaller than China, or less suited to domestic trade, manufacturing generally needs foreign trade to support it too. Without a large foreign market, manufacturing could hardly flourish in countries too small to have a broad home market. Nor could it flourish where travel between provinces is so difficult that goods made in one place cannot reach all the customers in the country. Remember that excellence in manufacturing depends entirely on the division of labor. As already shown, the size of the market necessarily limits how far that division can go in any kind of manufacturing. China, however, has a vast territory and population. Its provinces have different climates and thus produce different goods, and water transport connects most of them easily. Its home market is therefore large enough by itself to support major manufacturing industries and a substantial division of labor. China's home market may be almost as extensive as the markets of all the European countries combined. Still, a larger foreign trade would add the rest of the world's markets to this great home market. Especially if a substantial share were carried in Chinese ships, it could hardly fail to increase China's manufacturing greatly and make its manufacturing labor much more productive. With more shipping, the Chinese would naturally learn to use and build for themselves the many kinds of machines used in other countries. They would also learn other improvements in methods and industry practiced around the world. Under their present policy, they have little chance to learn from any other nation except Japan.
Ancient Egypt's policies, and those of the Gentoo government of Indostan, also seem to have favored agriculture above every other occupation.
In ancient Egypt and Indostan, the entire population was divided into separate castes or groups, each bound to an occupation or group of occupations from one generation to the next. 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 highest. Farmers and laborers ranked above merchants and manufacturers in both.
Both governments paid special attention to agriculture. The works built by Egypt's ancient rulers to distribute the waters of the Nile properly were famous in antiquity. Travelers still admire some of their ruins. The ancient rulers of Indostan built similar works to distribute the waters of the Ganges and many other rivers. Though less celebrated, these seem to have been equally impressive. Both countries were therefore known for their great fertility, despite occasional shortages. Though their populations were very large, both could export great quantities of grain to their neighbors in years of moderate abundance.
The ancient Egyptians had a religious aversion to the sea. The Gentoo religion forbids its followers to light a fire on water, and therefore to cook any food there. In practice this bars them from long sea voyages. Both Egyptians and Indians must have depended almost entirely on other nations' ships to export their surplus produce. This dependence must have limited their markets and discouraged growth in the surplus. It must have discouraged growth in manufactured goods even more than growth in raw produce. Manufacturing needs a much wider market than the most important kinds of raw produce from the land. A single shoemaker will make more than 300 pairs of shoes in a year, while his family may not wear out even six pairs. Unless he has customers from at least 50 families like his own, he cannot sell everything he makes. Even the most numerous group of artisans in a large country will rarely account for more than one in 50, or one in a 100, of all its families. Yet some writers have estimated that half the people in large countries such as France and England work in agriculture; others have estimated a third. No writer I know of estimates less than a fifth. Since by far most of the agricultural produce of France and England is consumed at home, each farmworker, on these estimates, needs customers from little more than one, two, or at most four families like his own to sell everything he produces. Agriculture can therefore survive a restricted market much better than manufacturing can. In ancient Egypt and Indostan, however, many convenient inland waterways partly offset the limits on foreign markets. They opened up the entire home market to the produce of each district in the most advantageous way. Indostan's great size also gave it a very large home market, enough to support many different manufactures. Ancient Egypt, however, was never as large as England. Its home market must always have been too small to support a great variety of manufactures. Accordingly, Bengal, the province of Indostan that commonly exports the most rice, has always been more notable for exporting many kinds of manufactured goods than for exporting grain. Ancient Egypt exported some manufactured goods, especially fine linen, as well as other goods. But it was best known for its large 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 been divided at different times have always drawn all, or by far the largest part, of their revenue from a tax on land or from land rent. Like Europe's tithe, this tax or rent took a fixed share of the land's produce, said to be a fifth. The share was either delivered as produce or paid in money according to an assessment. The amount therefore changed from year to year as the produce changed. It was natural for these rulers to pay special attention to agriculture: increases or decreases in their own annual revenue depended directly on whether it flourished or declined.
The ancient republics of Greece and Rome honored agriculture more than manufacturing or foreign trade. Their policies, though, seem to have discouraged those other occupations rather than directly and deliberately encouraged agriculture. Several ancient Greek states banned foreign trade altogether. In several others, artisans' and manufacturers' jobs were thought to weaken the body and make it less agile. Such work was thought to prevent the physical habits that military training and athletic exercise aimed to develop, leaving people less able to endure the hardships and dangers of war. These occupations were considered suitable only for slaves, and free citizens were forbidden to practice them. Even where there was no such ban, as in Rome and Athens, most people were effectively shut out of the trades now commonly practiced by poorer town residents. In Athens and Rome, these trades were all carried on by rich people's slaves for their masters' benefit. The masters' wealth, power, and protection made it nearly impossible for a poor free person to find buyers when competing with the slaves' work. Slaves, however, very seldom invent improvements. Free people discovered all the most important improvements in machinery and in organizing and dividing work that make labor easier and quicker. If a slave proposed such an improvement, the master would likely see the suggestion as laziness and an attempt to avoid work at the master's expense. Instead of a reward, the unfortunate slave would probably receive abuse, or perhaps punishment. Manufacturing done by slaves must therefore generally have required more labor to produce the same quantity of goods than manufacturing done by free workers. For that reason, the former's work must generally have cost more than the latter's. Mr Montesquieu notes that the Hungarian mines have always been worked at lower cost, and therefore for greater profit, than nearby Turkish mines, though they are no richer. Turkish mines are worked by slaves, whose arms are the only machines the Turks have ever thought to use. Hungarian mines are worked by free people, who use a great deal of machinery to make their work easier and quicker. From what little we know about prices of manufactured goods among the Greeks and Romans, finer goods seem to have been extremely expensive. Silk sold for its weight in gold. Of course, it was not made in Europe at that time. It all came from the East Indies, and the long journey may partly explain its high price. But a lady is said sometimes to have paid an equally extravagant price for a piece of very fine linen. Linen was always made either in Europe or, at the farthest, in Egypt. Its high price can therefore be explained only by the great cost of the labor required to make it. That cost, in turn, could only come from the awkward machinery used. Fine woolen cloth also seems to have cost much more than it does today, though its price was not quite so extravagant. Pliny tells us [Plin. 1. ix.c.39.] that some cloth dyed in a particular way cost a hundred denarii, or £3:6s:8d. per pound weight. Cloth dyed in another way cost a thousand denarii per pound weight, or £33:6s:8d. Remember that the Roman pound contained only twelve of our avoirdupois ounces. The dye seems to have been the main reason for these high prices. But people would probably not have applied such an expensive dye unless the cloth itself had cost much more than any cloth made today. Otherwise the added decoration would have been worth far too much compared with the cloth. The same author gives prices for some triclinaria [Plin. 1. viii.c.48.], a kind of woolen pillow or cushion people leaned on while reclining at table. These prices are almost unbelievable: some supposedly cost more than £30,000 and others more than £300,000. Their high price is not said to have come from the dye either. Dr Arbuthnot observes that fashionable dress for both sexes seems to have varied much less in ancient times than in modern ones. The small amount of variation visible in ancient statues supports his observation. He concludes that ancient dress must have been cheaper overall than ours, but that does not follow. When fashionable clothes are very expensive, people can afford little variety. When improvements in manufacturing methods and productivity make any one outfit fairly cheap, people naturally own a greater variety. The rich can no longer set themselves apart through the cost of a single outfit, so they 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
As noted earlier, the largest and most important part of any nation's commerce is trade between town and country. Town residents get raw produce from the country. It supplies both the materials they work with and the food and other things they live on. They pay by sending some of that produce back to the country, made into goods ready to use. In the end, this trade exchanges a certain amount of raw produce for a certain amount of manufactured goods. So the more expensive manufactured goods are, the cheaper raw produce is in comparison. Anything that raises the price of manufactured goods in a country lowers the relative price of the land's raw produce and discourages agriculture. If a given amount of raw produce, or the money it sells for, buys fewer manufactured goods, that produce has less value in exchange. The landlord then has less reason to produce more by improving the land, and the farmer has less reason to produce more by cultivating it. Anything that reduces the number of craftspeople and manufacturers in a country also shrinks the domestic market for the land's raw produce. This is the most important market of all, so the loss further discourages agriculture.
Systems that put agriculture ahead of all other work, and restrict manufacturing and foreign trade to promote it, therefore work against their own goal. They indirectly discourage the very industry they mean to help. In that sense they may be even less consistent than the mercantile system. The mercantile system favors manufacturing and foreign trade over agriculture. It shifts some of society's capital away from a more beneficial kind of industry and into a less beneficial one. But it does, in the end, encourage the industries it sets out to promote. Those agricultural systems instead end up discouraging their own preferred industry.
The same is true of any system that uses special incentives to draw more of society's capital into a particular industry than would naturally go there. It is also true of a system that uses special restrictions to force capital away from an industry where it would otherwise be used. Such a system actually undermines the main goal it claims to advance. Instead of speeding society's progress toward real wealth and greatness, it slows that progress. Instead of raising the real value of the yearly produce of society's land and labor, it lowers it.
Once all systems of preference and restriction are removed, the simple and obvious system of natural liberty comes into being on its own. Every person is completely free to pursue their own interest in their own way, provided they do not break the laws of justice. They may use their labor and capital in competition with those of any other person or group. The sovereign is relieved of a duty that would always expose anyone who tried it to countless mistakes. No person's knowledge or wisdom could ever be enough to carry it out properly: supervising private people's industry and steering it toward the work best suited to society's interests. Under the system of natural liberty, the sovereign has only three duties. They are very important, but anyone can understand them. First, the sovereign must protect society against violence and invasion by other independent societies. Second, the sovereign must protect each member of society, as far as possible, against injustice or oppression by any other member. This means establishing a fair and precise administration of justice. Third, the sovereign must build and maintain certain public works and public institutions. No individual or small group would find it worthwhile to build and maintain them, since the profit would never cover their costs for that individual or small group, even though the benefits may more than cover the costs for society as a whole.
Carrying out these duties properly necessarily costs money, and those costs require revenue. In the following book I will explain three things. First, what expenses the sovereign or commonwealth must pay, which should be paid by contributions from society as a whole, and which should be paid by a particular part or particular members of society. Second, the different ways society as a whole can contribute toward expenses that belong to the whole society, and the main benefits and drawbacks of each way. Third, why almost all modern governments have pledged part of this revenue or taken on debts, and how those debts have affected real wealth—the yearly produce of society's land and labor. The following book will therefore have three chapters.
APPENDIX TO BOOK IV
The following two accounts are added to illustrate and support what the fifth chapter of the fourth book says about the tonnage bounty for the Whit-herring fishery. I believe the reader can rely on the accuracy of both accounts.
An account of fishing busses fitted out in Scotland for eleven years, showing the number of empty barrels taken out, the number of barrels of herrings caught, and the average bounty on each barrel of sea-sticks and on each fully packed barrel.
Years Number of Empty Barrels Barrels of Herrings 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 a barrel of sea-sticks counts as only two thirds of a fully packed barrel. Deduct one third: ⅓ deducted 126,115 The bounty then comes to £ 0 12 3¾ Fully packed barrels 252,231
If the herrings are exported, there is also a premium of £ 0 2 8 So the government pays a cash bounty for each barrel of £ 0 14 11¾
Add the duty on the salt usually claimed as used to cure each barrel. The average quantity of foreign salt is one bushel and one-fourth of a bushel, at 10s. a bushel. This adds 0 12 6 The bounty on each barrel then comes to £ 1 7 5¾
If the herrings are cured with British salt, the figures are as follows. Bounty as before £ 0 14 11¾ Add the duty on two bushels of Scotch salt at 1s.6d. per bushel, the assumed average quantity used to cure each barrel 0 3 0 The bounty on each barrel comes to £ 0 17 11¾
When herrings caught by busses are entered for consumption at home in Scotland, and the duty of a shilling per barrel is paid, the bounty starts, as before, at £ 0 12 3¾ Deduct the shilling per barrel 0 1 0 £ 0 11 3¾
Then add back the duty on the foreign salt used to cure a barrel of herrings 0 12 6 The premium allowed for each barrel of herrings entered for home consumption is £ 1 3 9¾
If the herrings are cured with British salt, the figures are as follows. Bounty on each barrel brought in by the busses, as above £ 0 12 3¾ Deduct 1s. per barrel paid when they are entered for home consumption 0 1 0 £ 0 11 3¾
Then add the duty on two bushels of Scotch salt at 1s.6d. per bushel, the assumed average quantity used to cure each barrel 0 3 0 The premium for each barrel entered for home consumption will be £ 1 14 3¾
The loss of duties on exported herrings may not properly count as a bounty. But the loss of duties on herrings entered for home consumption certainly can.
An account of the amount of foreign salt imported into Scotland and Scotch salt supplied 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 for 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
Note that a bushel of foreign salt weighs 48lbs., while a bushel of British salt weighs 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 is to protect society from violence and invasion by other independent societies. This requires a military force. But the cost of preparing that force in peacetime and using it in wartime varies greatly with the state of society and its stage of development.
Among nations of hunters, society is at its earliest and least developed stage, as it is among the native tribes of North America. Every man is both a hunter and a warrior. When he goes to war to defend his society or avenge injuries another society has done to it, he supports himself by his own labor, just as he does at home. His society—at this stage, there is really no sovereign or commonwealth—pays nothing either to prepare him for war or to support him during it.
Among nations of shepherds, society is more developed, as it is among the Tartars and Arabs. Here too, every man is a warrior. Such peoples generally have no permanent homes. They live in tents or in covered wagons that can easily be moved from place to place. The whole tribe or nation moves with the seasons and in response to other events. When its herds and flocks have eaten the fodder in one area, it moves to another, then to a third. In the dry season it moves down to the riverbanks; in the wet season it retreats to higher ground. When such a nation goes to war, the warriors will not leave their herds and flocks to the weak protection of old men, women, and children. Nor can those people be left behind without protection or a means of living. Besides, the whole nation is used to moving around even in peacetime, so it can readily take the field in wartime. Whether it travels as an army or as a group of herders, its way of life is almost the same, though its purpose is very different. So everyone goes to war together and does what they can. Even Tartar women have often been known to fight. If the nation wins, the property of the enemy tribe is its reward. If it loses, it loses everything. Its herds and flocks, as well as its women and children, become the conqueror's spoils. Most of the survivors of the battle must submit to him simply to get food right away. The others usually scatter across the desert.
The daily life and exercise of a Tartar or Arab prepare him well enough for war. Running, wrestling, fighting with sticks, throwing the javelin, and drawing the bow, etc., are ordinary pastimes for people who live outdoors. All resemble activities in war. When a Tartar or Arab goes to war, he brings his own herds and flocks to support himself, just as he does in peacetime. His chief or sovereign—all these nations have chiefs or sovereigns—pays nothing to prepare him for battle. Once there, the chance to take spoils is the only pay he expects or wants.
An army of hunters can rarely have more than two or three hundred men. Hunting provides such an uncertain food supply that a larger group could seldom stay together for long. An army of shepherds, by contrast, can sometimes number two or three hundred thousand. If nothing stops them from moving from one district where they have used up the fodder to another where it remains untouched, there seems to be almost no limit to the number who can travel together. A nation of hunters can never seriously threaten its civilized neighbors; a nation of shepherds can. Nothing is less impressive than an Indian war in North America. By contrast, Tartar invasions of Asia have often been terrifying. Thucydides judged that Europe and Asia together could not resist the Scythians if they united, and the experience of every age has confirmed his judgment. The people of the vast but undefended plains of Scythia or Tartary have often united under the leader of a conquering horde or clan. Such unions have always brought devastation and destruction to Asia. The people of Arabia's harsh deserts, the other great nation of shepherds, united only once, under Mahomet and his immediate successors. Religion, rather than conquest, was the main cause of their union, and it brought similar results. If America's hunting nations ever became shepherds, they would pose a far greater danger to the European colonies than they do now.
At a still more developed stage, nations of farmers have little foreign commerce and no manufacturing beyond the rough household goods that almost every family makes for itself. Here, too, every man is a warrior or can easily become one. Farmers usually spend the whole day outdoors in every kind of weather. Their hard daily lives prepare them for the hardships of war, and some of their work closely resembles military tasks. Digging ditches prepares a man to dig trenches and fortify a camp as well as to enclose a field. Farmers' usual pastimes are the same as shepherds' and likewise resemble war. But farmers have less spare time than shepherds and play these games less often. They are soldiers, but they are not quite as skilled in military exercises. Even so, preparing them for war rarely costs the sovereign or commonwealth anything.
Even at its earliest stage, agriculture requires settlement and some kind of permanent home, which cannot be abandoned without great loss. So when a nation made up entirely of farmers goes to war, not everyone can go along. At least the old men, women, and children must stay home to care for their homes. All men of military age can still go, and in small nations of this kind they often have. In any nation, men of military age are thought to make up about a fourth or a fifth of the population. If a campaign begins after seedtime and ends before harvest, the farmer and his main laborers can leave the farm without much loss. He expects the old men, women, and children to manage the work that has to be done while he is gone. He is therefore willing to serve without pay on a short campaign. Supporting him in the field often costs the sovereign or commonwealth as little as preparing him for it. Citizens of all the different states of ancient Greece seem to have served this way until after the second Persian war. The people of Peloponnesus did so until after the Peloponnesian war. Thucydides notes that the Peloponnesians generally left the field in summer and went home to reap the harvest. The Romans served in the same way under their kings and in the early republic. Only at the siege of Veii did those who stayed home begin to contribute anything toward supporting those who went to war. In the European monarchies founded on the ruins of the Roman empire, great lords and all their immediate dependents served the crown at their own expense. They did so both before and for some time after the establishment of what is properly called feudal law. They lived on their own revenue in the field, just as they did at home, rather than on any special pay from the king.
At a more developed stage of society, two changes make it completely impossible for people who go to war to support themselves. They are the growth of manufacturing and advances in the art of war.
A farmer may go on an expedition after seedtime and return before harvest without losing much revenue. Nature does most of the remaining work without his labor. But when a craftsperson—a smith, carpenter, or weaver, for example—leaves the workshop, that person's only source of revenue stops completely. Nature does none of that work; the craftsperson must do it all. So when a craftsperson goes to war to defend the public, the public must provide support, since the craftsperson has no revenue to live on. In a country where many people are craftspeople or manufacturers, many of those who go to war must come from these groups. The public must support them throughout their service.
War also gradually becomes a complex and difficult science. At first, its outcome could be settled by a single disorderly fight or battle. Later, wars usually stretch over several campaigns, each lasting most of the year. Then the public must support its soldiers, at least while they are serving. Whatever work they normally do in peacetime, a service so long and costly would otherwise be too heavy a burden. After the second Persian war, the armies of Athens seem generally to have consisted of paid troops. Some were citizens and some were foreigners, but the state hired and paid them all. From the siege of Veii onward, Rome's armies received pay while they were in the field. Under feudal governments, after a certain time, the military service owed by great lords and their immediate dependents was everywhere replaced by a payment of money. This money supported people who served in their place.
In a civilized society, a much smaller share of the population can go to war than in a society at an earlier stage. In a civilized society, the work of nonsoldiers supports all the soldiers. There can therefore be no more soldiers than the nonsoldiers can support while also supporting themselves, in a way suited to their respective positions, and the officers of government and law whom they must support. In the small farming states of ancient Greece, a fourth or a fifth of the people considered themselves soldiers and, it is said, sometimes went to war. In modern Europe's civilized nations, the usual estimate is that no country can employ more than one hundredth of its inhabitants as soldiers without ruining the country that pays for them.
The expense of training an army for war seems to have become substantial only long after the sovereign or commonwealth had taken on the entire cost of maintaining it in war. In all the republics of ancient Greece, the state required every free citizen to learn military exercises as part of his education. Each city seems to have had a public field where different instructors taught young people their exercises under a public magistrate's supervision. This simple arrangement seems to have been the full cost any Greek state paid to prepare its citizens for war. In ancient Rome, exercises on the Campus Martius served the same purpose as those in the Gymnasium in ancient Greece. Under feudal governments, many public orders required citizens of every district to practice archery and other military exercises. These orders had the same goal but seem to have worked less well. Whether the officers charged with enforcing them lacked interest or something else went wrong, the orders appear to have been widely neglected. As these governments developed, most people gradually stopped practicing military exercises.
Throughout the existence of the ancient Greek and Roman republics, and for a long time after feudal governments were established, soldiering was not a separate trade. It was not the only or main occupation of a special class of citizens. Every subject, whatever work provided a living, considered himself fit to serve as a soldier in ordinary circumstances and obliged to do so in many extraordinary ones.
Yet the art of war, certainly the noblest of arts, necessarily becomes one of the most complex as society develops. Its possible level of refinement at any given time depends on the state of the mechanical arts and of other arts linked to it. To reach that level, soldiering must become the only or main occupation of a particular group of citizens. The division of labor is needed to improve war just as it is needed to improve any other art. In other arts, individuals introduce this division on their own. They find it more profitable to concentrate on one trade than to practice many. Only the wisdom of the state can make soldiering a trade separate from all others. A private citizen in a time of deep peace, with no special public incentive, could spend most of his time on military exercises. He would certainly improve his skills and might enjoy himself. But he would not advance his own interests. Only the state can make spending most of his time on this special work serve his interests. States have not always been wise enough to do so, even when their survival required it.
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 shepherd has plenty of free time. A farmer practicing agriculture in its early form has some. A craftsperson or manufacturer has none at all. The shepherd can spend a lot of time on military exercises without losing anything; the farmer can spend some time on them. But the craftsperson cannot spend even an hour on them without a loss, and concern for personal interests naturally leads that person to neglect them entirely. As crafts and manufacturing develop, they also lead to improvements in farming that leave farmers as little free time as craftspeople. People in the country then neglect military exercises as much as people in towns do, and most of the population becomes entirely unprepared for war. At the same time, improvements in agriculture and manufacturing bring wealth, which is really just the accumulated produce of those improvements. That wealth invites invasion by all the nation's neighbors. A hardworking nation, and therefore a wealthy one, is more likely to be attacked than any other. Unless the state takes some new step to defend the public, people's normal habits make them completely unable to defend themselves.
Under these conditions, there seem to be only two ways the state can provide anything like adequate public defense.
First, it can enforce military exercises through very strict policing, against the interests, abilities, and wishes of the population. It can require either all citizens of military age, or a certain number of them, to take up soldiering alongside whatever other work or profession they practice.
Second, it can support and employ a certain number of citizens who constantly practice military exercises. In this way it can make soldiering a separate trade, distinct from every other trade.
If the state chooses the first method, its military force is called a militia. If it chooses the second, the force is called a standing army. Practicing military exercises is the only or main job of soldiers in a standing army. The support or pay the state gives them is their main, regular means of living. Militia soldiers practice military exercises only occasionally and get most of their regular livelihood from some other job. In a militia, a person is mainly a laborer, craftsperson, or tradesperson, rather than a soldier. In a standing army, being a soldier takes priority over every other role. This seems to be the essential difference between the two kinds of force.
Militias have taken several forms. In some countries, citizens chosen to defend the state seem to have drilled but were not, so to speak, organized into regiments. They were not divided into separate units of troops that each drilled under their own permanent officers. In the ancient republics of Greece and Rome, each citizen seems to have practiced exercises at home on his own or with whatever other citizens he preferred. He was assigned to a particular unit only when actually called out to war. In other countries, militias have both drilled and been organized into regiments. In England, Switzerland, and, I believe, every other modern European country that has set up an imperfect force of this kind, each member of the militia belongs to a particular unit even in peacetime. That unit drills under its own permanent officers.
Before firearms were invented, the better army was the one whose individual soldiers had the most skill with their weapons. Physical strength and agility were crucial and usually decided battles. But soldiers could develop their weapon skills only as people now learn fencing: practicing individually at a particular school under a particular teacher, or with their own peers and companions, not drilling in large groups. Since the invention of firearms, strength, agility, and even exceptional skill with weapons are still important, but less so. A firearm does not make a clumsy person as capable as a skilled one, but it brings them closer than before. People are thought to be able to learn all the skill they need to use it by drilling in large groups.
In modern armies, keeping ranks in order and promptly obeying commands matter more to the outcome of a battle than soldiers' skill with their weapons. Yet firearms make a great deal of noise and smoke. From the moment a soldier comes within cannon range, often long before a battle is fully under way, that soldier feels constantly exposed to death from an unseen source. These conditions must make it very hard to preserve much order or quick obedience, even at the start of a modern battle. In ancient battles, only human voices made noise. There was no smoke and no invisible cause of wounds or death. Until a deadly weapon actually came toward a man, he could clearly see that none was near him. Under those conditions, troops who had some confidence in their own skill with weapons would find it much easier to keep some order. They could do so not just at the start of a battle but throughout it, until one of the armies was clearly defeated. But troops can acquire the habit of keeping order and promptly following commands only by drilling in large groups.
Still, no matter how a militia is trained or drilled, it will always be much weaker than a well-trained, well-drilled standing army.
Soldiers who drill only once a week or once a month can never become as skilled with their weapons as those who drill every day or every other day. This difference may matter less now than it did in ancient times. But the recognized superiority of Prussian troops is said to be largely due to their greater skill in drills. That should show us the difference still matters a great deal today.
Soldiers who must obey an officer only once a week or once a month, and who manage their own affairs the rest of the time without answering to that officer at all, cannot regard him with the same sense of authority or obey as readily as soldiers whose whole lives are directed by him every day. Those soldiers even get up and go to bed, or at least return to their quarters, on his orders. A militia must therefore fall even further behind a standing army in discipline—the habit of quick obedience—than it sometimes falls behind in weapons drill and handling. In modern war, quick and immediate obedience matters much more than a considerable advantage in handling weapons.
The best militias by far are those, like the Tartar or Arab militia, that go to war under the same chiefs they usually obey in peacetime. Their respect for officers and habit of quick obedience make them more like standing armies. When the Highland militia served under its own chiefs, it shared some of this advantage. But the Highlanders were shepherds who lived in one place, not wanderers. They had permanent homes and did not normally follow their chief from place to place in peacetime. So in war they were less willing to follow him a long distance or remain in the field a long time. As soon as they got any spoils, they wanted to go home, and their chief's authority was seldom strong enough to keep them there. They were always much less obedient than the Tartars and Arabs are said to be. Because the Highlanders stayed in one place, they also spent less time outdoors. They were less used to military exercises and less skilled with their weapons than the Tartars and Arabs are said to be.
But a militia of any kind becomes, in every respect, a standing army after serving in the field through several successive campaigns. Its soldiers drill with their weapons every day. Constantly under their officers' command, they develop the same habit of quick obedience as standing-army soldiers. What they were before going to war matters little. After a few campaigns, they necessarily become a standing army in every respect. If the war in America lasts through another campaign, the American militia may become equal in every respect to the standing army whose courage, at least in the last war, appeared no less than that of the toughest veterans of France and Spain.
Once we understand this distinction, we find that history in every age supports the overwhelming superiority of a well-organized standing army over a militia.
One of the first standing armies clearly described in reliable history belonged to Philip of Macedon. His frequent wars with the Thracians, Illyrians, Thessalians, and some Greek cities near Macedon gradually gave his troops the strict discipline of a standing army. They probably started out as militia. During the rare times he was at peace, which never lasted long, he took care not to disband the army. After a long and hard struggle, it defeated and subdued the brave, well-drilled militias of the main republics of ancient Greece. It then defeated the soft, poorly drilled militia of the great Persian empire with very little struggle. The Greek republics and the Persian empire fell because a standing army was overwhelmingly stronger than any kind of militia. This is the first great change in human affairs that history records clearly and in detail.
The fall of Carthage and the resulting rise of Rome is the second. The same cause can explain all the changes in the fortunes of these two famous republics.
Between the end of the first Carthaginian war and the beginning of the second, Carthage's armies stayed in the field under three leading generals in succession: Amilcar, his son-in-law Asdrubal, and his son Annibal. First they punished their own rebellious slaves, then subdued the peoples of Africa who had revolted, and finally conquered the great kingdom of Spain. These different wars must gradually have turned the army Annibal led from Spain into Italy into a strictly disciplined standing army. Meanwhile, the Romans were not entirely at peace, but they had fought no particularly important war during this period. Their military discipline is generally said to have weakened considerably. At Trebi, Thrasymenus, and Cannae, Annibal's standing army faced Roman militias. This probably did more than anything else to decide those battles.
The standing army Annibal left in Spain likewise had the advantage over the Roman militia sent against it. Within a few years, under the command of his brother, the younger Asdrubal, it drove the Romans almost entirely out of Spain.
Annibal received too few supplies from home. Meanwhile, the Roman militia stayed in the field and, as the war went on, became a well-trained, well-drilled standing army. Annibal's advantage decreased every day. Asdrubal decided he needed to bring all, or almost all, of the standing army he commanded in Spain to help his brother in Italy. His guides are said to have led him astray on this march. In unfamiliar country, he was surprised and attacked by another standing army at least equal to his own in every respect, and his army was completely defeated.
After Asdrubal left Spain, the great Scipio faced only a militia weaker than his own. He conquered and subdued it. As the war continued, his own militia necessarily became a well-trained, well-drilled standing army. That army later went to Africa, where it again faced only a militia. Carthage then had to call back Annibal's standing army to defend the city. The discouraged African militia, defeated many times before, joined it and made up most of Annibal's troops at the battle of Zama. The outcome of that day decided the fate of the two rival republics.
From the end of the second Carthaginian war until the fall of the Roman republic, Rome's armies were standing armies in every respect. Macedon's standing army put up some resistance. Even at the height of Roman power, conquering that little kingdom took two great wars and three great battles. It would probably have been still harder if its last king had not been a coward. The militias of all the civilized nations of the ancient world—Greece, Syria, and Egypt—offered little resistance to Rome's standing armies. Some peoples considered less civilized defended themselves much better. The Scythian or Tartar militia that Mithridates recruited from lands north of the Euxine and Caspian seas were the most formidable enemies Rome faced after the second Carthaginian war. The Parthian and German militias were also capable forces and won major victories against Roman armies on several occasions. In general, however, well-led Roman armies seem to have been much stronger. If the Romans did not finish conquering Parthia or Germany, it was probably because they thought those two countries were not worth adding to an empire already too large. The ancient Parthians seem to have descended from the Scythians or Tartars and to have kept many of their ancestors' customs. The ancient Germans, like the Scythians or Tartars, were wandering shepherds. They went to war under the same chiefs they followed in peacetime. “Their militia was exactly the same kind as the Scythian or Tartar militia, and they probably descended from those peoples too.”
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 weakened the discipline of the Roman armies. Their discipline was extremely strict, and that may have been one cause. At the height of their power, when no enemy seemed able to resist them, soldiers stopped wearing their heavy armor because it seemed like an unnecessary burden. They stopped their demanding exercises because those seemed like unnecessary work. Under the Roman emperors, the standing armies also became a danger to the emperors. The armies guarding the German and Pannonian frontiers were especially dangerous. They often backed their own generals against their rulers. Some writers say Dioclesian, and others say Constantine, was the first to move these troops away from the frontier to make them less threatening. Before then they had always camped there in large groups, usually two or three legions each. He scattered them in small groups among the provincial towns, and they were hardly ever moved except to turn back an invasion. Soldiers stationed in small groups in trading and manufacturing towns, and rarely moved, became traders, craftspeople, and manufacturers themselves. Civilian life came to matter more to them than military life. Rome’s standing armies gradually turned into a corrupt, neglected, undisciplined militia. It could not withstand the German and Scythian militias that soon invaded the western empire. For a time, the emperors could defend themselves only by hiring the militia of some of these peoples to fight the others. The fall of the western empire is the third great change in human affairs for which ancient history has preserved a clear and detailed account. It resulted from the overwhelming advantage that a militia from a people called barbarous had over one from a civilized people. In particular, a militia of shepherds had that advantage over a militia of farmers, craftspeople, and manufacturers. Militias have generally won their victories over other militias that were less well trained and disciplined, not over standing armies. This was true of the Greek militia’s victories over the militia of the Persian empire. It was also true, in later times, of the Swiss militia’s victories over those of the Austrians and Burgundians.
The German and Scythian peoples who settled on the ruins of the western empire kept much the same kind of military force for a time in their new homes as they had had in their old ones. It was a militia of shepherds and farmers. In war they followed the same chiefs they obeyed in peace. They were therefore reasonably well trained and disciplined. But as crafts and industry developed, the chiefs gradually lost authority, and most people had less time for military training. The feudal militia’s training and discipline gradually fell apart, and standing armies gradually replaced it. Once one civilized nation adopted a standing army, its neighbors had to do the same. They soon learned that their safety depended on it: their own militia could not stand up to such an army.
Soldiers in a standing army can have all the courage of veterans even if they have never faced an enemy. The moment they go to war, they can be ready to face the toughest and most experienced veterans. In 1756, when the Russian army marched into Poland, its soldiers seemed no less brave than the Prussians, then thought to be Europe’s toughest and most experienced veterans. Yet the Russian empire had been at peace for nearly twenty years, so few of its soldiers could have faced an enemy. When the Spanish war began in 1739, England had been at peace for about eight-and-twenty years. Even so, that long peace had not weakened its soldiers’ courage. It was never more evident than in the attempt on Carthagena, the first disastrous operation of that disastrous war. In a long peace, generals may sometimes lose their skill. But if a well-regulated standing army remains in place, its soldiers do not seem to lose their courage.
When a civilized nation relies on a militia for defense, it can always be conquered by a neighboring people called barbarous. The Tartars’ repeated conquests of all the civilized countries of Asia clearly show the natural advantage a militia from a barbarous people has over that of a civilized one. A well-regulated standing army is stronger than any militia. A prosperous, civilized nation is best able to maintain such an army, and only such an army can defend it from invasion by a poor, barbarous neighbor. So only a standing army can allow a country’s civilization to continue, or even survive, for any substantial length of time.
A well-regulated standing army is the only way to defend a civilized country. It is also the only way to make a barbarous country reasonably civilized in a short time. Its overwhelming force establishes the ruler’s laws even in the most distant provinces and maintains some regular government in places where this would otherwise be impossible. Anyone who closely examines the improvements Peter the Great made in the Russian empire will find that almost all of them come down to the establishment of a well-regulated standing army. That army puts all his other rules into effect and keeps them in place. The order and internal peace the empire has enjoyed ever since are entirely due to its influence.
People who believe in republican government have been wary of standing armies as a threat to liberty. An army certainly is a threat if the interests of its general and leading officers are not firmly tied to supporting the state’s constitution. Caesar’s standing army destroyed the Roman republic. Cromwell’s standing army expelled the long parliament. But a standing army can never threaten liberty when the ruler is its general and the country’s leading nobility and gentry are its principal officers. Then the armed forces are commanded by those with the strongest interest in supporting civilian government, since they themselves hold the greatest share of its authority. Such an army may even favor liberty in some cases. It makes the ruler feel secure, so he does not need the intrusive vigilance found in some modern republics. That vigilance seems to monitor the smallest actions and is always ready to disturb every citizen’s peace. Suppose the safety of a magistrate is threatened by every sign of popular discontent, even though the country’s leading people support him. Suppose a small disturbance can bring about a major revolution within hours. In that case, the government must use all its authority to suppress and punish every complaint or murmur against it. By contrast, a ruler supported both by the country’s natural aristocracy and by a well-regulated standing army is hardly troubled by even the rudest, least justified, and most unrestrained protests. He can safely pardon or ignore them, and his awareness of his own superior power naturally inclines him to do so. Freedom that comes close to being unrestrained can be tolerated only where a well-regulated standing army keeps the ruler secure. Only there does public safety not require giving the ruler discretionary power to suppress even the thoughtless excesses of that freedom.
The ruler’s first duty is to defend society against violence and injustice from other independent societies. This duty becomes more and more expensive as society becomes more civilized. At first, the society’s military forces cost the ruler nothing in either peace or war. As society develops, he must first pay to maintain them during war and eventually also during peace.
The invention of firearms made a major change in warfare. It further raised both the peacetime cost of training and disciplining a given number of soldiers and the wartime cost of using them. Their weapons and ammunition became more expensive. A musket costs more than a javelin or a bow and arrows; a cannon or mortar costs more than a balista or catapulta. Powder fired in a modern military review is gone for good and costs a considerable amount. Javelins and arrows thrown or shot in an ancient review could easily be collected afterward, and they were worth very little anyway. Cannons and mortars are not only far more expensive than balistas or catapultas but also much heavier. They cost more to prepare for the field and to transport there. Modern artillery is also far more powerful than ancient artillery. It has therefore become much harder and more expensive to fortify a town so that it can hold out against a modern artillery attack even for a few weeks. Many different factors now make defending society more expensive. The natural costs of development have been greatly increased by a major change in warfare that seems to have begun with a chance invention: gunpowder.
In modern war, the high cost of firearms clearly favors the nation best able to pay for them. It favors a prosperous, civilized nation over a poor, barbarous one. In ancient times, prosperous, civilized nations found it hard to defend themselves against poor, barbarous nations. In modern times, poor, barbarous nations find it hard to defend themselves against prosperous, civilized ones. Firearms may seem harmful at first sight, but their invention certainly helps civilization survive and spread.
PART II. The Cost of Justice
The ruler’s second duty is to protect each member of society, as far as possible, against injustice or oppression by every other member. In other words, the ruler must set up a reliable system of justice. This duty calls for very different levels of spending at different stages of society.
Among peoples who live by hunting, there is almost no property, or at least none worth more than two or three days’ work. So there is rarely an established magistrate or a regular system of justice. People without property can injure one another only physically or by harming their reputations. A person who kills, wounds, beats, or defames someone else causes suffering but gets no benefit from it. An injury to property is different: the person who causes it often gains as much as the other person loses. Envy, spite, or resentment alone can lead someone to hurt another person physically or harm their reputation. Most people do not often feel these passions, and even the worst people feel them only sometimes. Satisfying them may please some people, but it brings no real or lasting advantage. Most people are therefore held back by concern for the consequences. People can live together with a reasonable degree of safety without a civil magistrate to protect them from wrongs driven by these passions. Property, however, is threatened by the rich person’s greed and ambition and by the poor person’s dislike of work and desire for immediate comfort and pleasure. These impulses are much more persistent and much more widespread. Where there is extensive property, there is great inequality. For every very rich person there must be at least five hundred poor people. The prosperity of the few depends on the poverty of the many. The wealth of the rich arouses the poor people’s anger, and need and envy often drive them to take a rich person’s possessions. Only under the protection of a civil magistrate can someone with valuable property, acquired through many years of work or perhaps several generations of it, sleep safely for a single night. That person is always surrounded by unknown enemies. Though he has never provoked them, he can never satisfy them. Only the powerful, ever-ready authority of a civil magistrate can protect him from their injustice and punish it. Acquiring valuable property on a large scale therefore makes civil government necessary. Where there is no property, or none worth more than two or three days’ work, civil government is less necessary.
Civil government assumes that some people have authority over others. As valuable property grows and makes civil government more necessary, the main causes that naturally give some people authority over others grow too.
There seem to be four causes or circumstances that naturally create this hierarchy. Even before civil institutions exist, these factors give some people an advantage over most others.
The first is a person’s own qualities: physical strength, beauty, and agility, as well as wisdom, virtue, good judgment, justice, courage, and self-control. Physical qualities carry little authority in any society without mental qualities to support them. A man would have to be very strong to make even two weaker men obey him by strength alone. Only qualities of the mind can give someone great authority. But these qualities cannot be seen and can always be questioned; people generally do question them. No society, whether called barbarous or civilized, has found it practical to base rules of rank and precedence on these invisible qualities. Instead, it bases them on something clearer and easier to observe.
The second is age. An old man, unless he is so old that people suspect his mind is failing, receives more respect everywhere than a younger man of the same rank, wealth, and ability. Among hunting peoples, such as the native tribes of North America, age is the only basis of rank and precedence. They call a superior father, an equal brother, and an inferior son. Even in the richest and most civilized nations, age determines rank among people equal in every other way, who have nothing else to set their order. Among brothers and among sisters, the eldest always comes first. In inheriting a father’s estate, something that cannot be divided and must go to one person, such as a title of honor, usually goes to the eldest. Age is clear and observable, and cannot be disputed.
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 cause is having more wealth. Wealth gives a person authority in every kind of society. But it may give the most authority in the least developed societies where wealth can differ substantially. Suppose a Tartar chief’s flocks and herds grow enough to feed a thousand men. He has little choice but to use the extra animals to feed a thousand men. His society has no manufactured goods, trinkets, or ornaments for which he can trade the part of his livestock he does not need himself. The thousand men he supports depend on him entirely for food. They must follow his orders in war and accept his judgments in peace. He must be their general and their judge. His position as chief follows directly from his greater wealth. In a rich, civilized society, a man can own far more and still be unable to command a dozen people. His estate may produce enough to support more than a thousand people and may actually support them. But all those people pay for what they receive from him. He gives almost nothing to anyone without receiving something of equal value in return. Almost no one therefore considers themselves wholly dependent on him, and his authority reaches only a few household servants. Wealth still brings great authority even in a prosperous, civilized society. People have complained throughout every period marked by considerable inequality of wealth that it brings far more authority than either age or personal qualities. In the first stage of society, among hunters, there is no such inequality. Everyone is poor, which makes everyone equal. Age and personal qualities are the only sources of authority and hierarchy, and they are weak ones. So there is little or no authority or hierarchy at that stage. In the second stage, among shepherds, wealth can be very unequal. At no other stage does greater wealth give its owners so much authority. Consequently, at no other stage are authority and hierarchy more firmly established. An Arabian scherif has great authority; a Tartar khan has complete, despotic power.
The fourth cause is higher birth. A claim to higher birth assumes that the claimant’s family was wealthy long ago. Every family is equally old. A prince’s ancestors may be better known than a beggar’s, but there can hardly be more of them. An old family is really one that has long been wealthy or long held a high position, which is usually based on or accompanied by wealth. People everywhere respect a recently powerful family less than one powerful for generations. Their hatred of people who seize a throne and their affection for an old ruling family are largely based on contempt for the first and reverence for the second. A military officer readily accepts orders from a superior who has always commanded him but cannot bear being put under someone formerly beneath him. In the same way, people readily accept a family that they and their ancestors have always obeyed. But they are furious when a family whose superiority they have never recognized claims power over them.
Distinctions of birth arise only after differences in wealth. So they cannot exist among hunters, who are equal in wealth and must therefore be nearly equal in birth. Even among hunters, the son of a wise, brave man might receive somewhat more respect than someone equally capable whose father was a fool or coward. But the difference will not be great. I believe no great family has ever owed all its prestige to an inherited legacy of wisdom and virtue.
Among shepherding peoples, distinctions of birth can arise and always do. Such peoples are not familiar with any kind of luxury, and even lavish, careless spending can hardly use up great wealth among them. No other peoples have more families honored and respected for descending from a long line of great and famous ancestors. That is because nowhere else is wealth more likely to stay in the same families for so long.
Birth and wealth are clearly the two main things that raise one person above another. They are the two great sources of personal distinction and therefore the main natural causes of authority and hierarchy. Both operate at full strength among shepherding peoples. A great shepherd or herdsman is respected for his wealth and for the many people who depend on him for food. He is also revered for his noble birth and his famous family, whose high standing goes back beyond anyone’s memory. This gives him a natural authority over the other shepherds and herdsmen of his horde or clan. He can call on more people to act together than any of them can, so his military power is greater. In war they are naturally more inclined to gather under his banner than under anyone else’s. His birth and wealth thus give him a kind of executive authority. Because he can bring more people together than anyone else, he is also best able to compel someone who has injured another person to make up for it. People too weak to defend themselves naturally turn to him for protection. They bring him complaints about injuries they believe they have suffered. Even the person accused finds it easier to accept his intervention than anyone else’s. So his birth and wealth also give him a kind of judicial authority.
In the age of shepherds, society’s second stage, inequality of wealth first appears. It creates a degree of authority and hierarchy that could not have existed before. It thereby creates some of the civil government needed to protect that wealth. This seems to happen naturally, even without anyone thinking about that need. Later, awareness of the need certainly helps sustain and secure the authority and hierarchy. The rich in particular have an interest in supporting the system that alone keeps their advantages safe. People with smaller fortunes join in defending the property of those with larger ones so that the wealthier people will join in defending theirs. Each of the lesser shepherds and herdsmen knows that his own herds and flocks are safe only if the great shepherd’s are safe. He knows his smaller authority depends on the great shepherd’s larger authority, and that obeying the great shepherd gives the great shepherd the power to keep those beneath each lesser shepherd obedient. These lesser leaders form a small nobility. They have an interest in defending the property and authority of their own little ruler so that he can defend their property and authority in turn. To the extent that civil government exists to protect property, it actually exists to defend the rich against the poor, or those who own some property against those who own none.
For a long time, a ruler’s power to administer justice brought him revenue rather than costing him money. People seeking his judgment were always willing to pay, and they always brought a gift with their request. Once his authority was firmly established, the person found guilty had to pay a fine to the ruler as well as compensate the injured party. He had caused trouble, disturbed his lord the king, and broken his peace; a fine was considered due for these offenses. In the Tartar governments of Asia and the European governments founded by the German and Scythian peoples who brought down the Roman empire, administering justice brought substantial revenue. The ruler received it, as did lesser chiefs or lords who had jurisdiction under him over a particular tribe, clan, territory, or district. At first, both rulers and lesser chiefs exercised this power personally. Later they all found it useful to delegate it to a substitute, bailiff, or judge. But the substitute still had to account to the person who appointed him for the income earned from judging cases. Anyone who reads the instructions given to the traveling judges in the time of Henry II (they are in Tyrol’s History of England) will see that these judges were a kind of traveling agents. They were sent around the country to collect certain sources of the king’s revenue. Administering justice then brought the ruler an income. Earning this income even seems to have been one of his main aims in administering justice.
Using the administration of justice to raise revenue was almost bound to cause serious abuses. Someone who brought a large gift when asking for justice was likely to get more than justice. Someone with a small gift was likely to get less. A decision might be delayed so that another gift could be collected. The prospect of a fine from the accused could also create a strong reason to find him at fault when he was not. The early history of every European country shows that such abuses were common.
When a ruler or chief administered justice himself, it was almost impossible to get redress for abuses, however badly he acted. There was rarely anyone powerful enough to hold him accountable. When he worked through a bailiff, it was sometimes possible. If the bailiff had acted unjustly for his own benefit alone, the ruler might be willing to punish him or require him to make things right. But suppose the bailiff had oppressed someone for the ruler’s benefit, to win the favor of the person who appointed him and could promote him. In that case, obtaining redress was usually as impossible as if the ruler had committed the wrong himself. So justice appears to have been extremely corrupt for a long time in all governments considered barbarous, and especially in the early European governments built on the ruins of the Roman empire. Even under the best rulers it was far from fully fair and impartial. Under the worst it was thoroughly dishonest.
Among shepherding peoples, the ruler or chief is simply the greatest shepherd or herdsman in the horde or clan. Like any of his subjects or followers, he lives from the growth of his own herds and flocks. The same is true among farming peoples who have only recently stopped being shepherds and have not developed much beyond that stage. The Greek tribes around the time of the Trojan war seem to have been like this, as were our German and Scythian ancestors when they first settled on the ruins of the western empire. Their ruler or chief was simply the country’s biggest landowner. Like any other landowner, he lived on the revenue from his private estate, or what modern Europeans called the demesne of the crown. His subjects normally gave him nothing for his upkeep, except when they needed his authority to protect them from oppression by other subjects. The gifts they gave him then were all the regular revenue and benefits he received from ruling them, apart perhaps from very unusual emergencies. In Homer, when Agamemnon offers Achilles rule over seven Greek cities to win his friendship, the only benefit he mentions is that their people will honor Achilles with gifts. While gifts and payments for justice, or court fees, were all the ordinary income a ruler received from ruling, no one could reasonably expect him to give them up entirely. It would not even have been proper to ask. People could, and often did, propose setting and controlling the amounts. But once the amounts had been fixed, it remained very difficult, if not impossible, to stop an all-powerful ruler from charging more. While this state of affairs continued, there was hardly any effective way to remedy the corruption caused by gifts whose size was unpredictable and set at the ruler’s discretion.
Eventually, for several reasons, the ruler’s private estate became far too small to cover the cost of governing. The main reason was the continually rising expense of defending the nation against invasions. People then had to contribute through various taxes for their own security. At that point, it seems to have become common to require that neither the ruler nor his bailiffs and deputies, the judges, accept gifts for administering justice under any pretext. People apparently thought it easier to abolish these gifts altogether than to control them and fix their amounts effectively. Judges received fixed salaries, meant to make up for any share of the former income from justice they might have lost. Taxes more than made up for the ruler’s lost income. People then said that justice was administered for free.
But justice has never really been administered for free in any country. The parties must at least pay lawyers and attorneys. Without payment, these professionals would do their jobs even worse than they do now. The fees paid each year to lawyers and attorneys in every court add up to much more than the judges’ salaries. Paying those salaries from the crown’s funds can do little anywhere to lower the necessary cost of a lawsuit. Judges were barred from receiving any gift or fee from the parties mainly to prevent corruption in justice, not to cut its cost.
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
Being a judge is such an honorable position that people will take the job even for very little pay. The lower position of justice of the peace involves considerable work and usually no pay at all, yet most of our country gentlemen would like to hold it. In any civilized country, all judges’ salaries, high and low, plus the whole cost of administering and enforcing justice, make up only a very small part of government spending. This is true even where the work is not managed particularly efficiently.
Court fees could also easily pay the whole cost of justice. This would remove a definite burden, though perhaps a small one, from public revenue without any real risk of corrupting justice. It is hard to regulate court fees effectively when a ruler powerful enough to ignore the rules receives a share of them and gets a significant part of his income from them. Regulation is much easier if the judge is the main person who benefits. The law can readily make the judge follow the rules, even if it cannot always make the ruler do so. Suppose the fees are set at precise amounts. The parties pay them all at once at a fixed stage in each case to a cashier or receiver. Only after the case is decided does that person divide the money among the judges in fixed, known proportions. Under such rules, there seems to be no more risk of corruption than if the fees were banned outright. Without adding much to the cost of a lawsuit, these fees could fully cover the cost of administering justice. Since judges would not receive the fees until a case ended, the fees might encourage the court to work promptly on examining and deciding it. In a court with many judges, each judge’s share could reflect the hours and days spent examining the case in court or in a committee appointed by the court. That would encourage each judge to be diligent. Public work is done best when people are rewarded only after they do it and in proportion to the effort they put into it. In the different parliaments of France, court fees called epices and vacations make up by far the largest part of judges’ income. After all deductions, the net salary the crown pays a counselor or judge in the parliament of Thoulouse, the second-ranking parliament in the kingdom, is only 150 livres, about £6:11s. sterling a year. About seven years ago, that amount was also the usual annual wage of an ordinary footman there. The epices are also distributed according to how diligently the judges work. A diligent judge earns a comfortable, though modest, income from the office; an idle one gets little more than the salary. Those parliaments may have many shortcomings as courts, but no one has accused them of corruption or apparently even suspected them of it.
Court fees seem originally to have provided most of the income supporting England’s various courts. Each court tried to attract as many cases as it could. So it was willing to hear many cases that had not originally been placed under its authority. The court of king’s bench was set up to try only criminal cases but began hearing civil cases. The plaintiff would claim that the defendant’s failure to do him justice was a trespass or misdemeanor. The court of exchequer was set up to collect the king’s revenue and enforce payment of debts owed to him alone. It began hearing all other cases involving debts under contracts. The plaintiff would claim that he could not pay the king because the defendant had not paid him. These legal fictions often let the parties decide which court would hear their case. Each court then tried to attract cases by handling them more quickly and fairly. This competition between their judges may have largely shaped the present excellent organization of English courts. Each judge tried to give, in his own court, the quickest and most effective remedy the law allowed for every kind of wrong. At first, courts of law awarded only monetary damages for breaking a contract. The court of chancery, which acted as a court of conscience, was the first to require that an agreement actually be carried out. When a contract was broken simply by not paying money, ordering payment fully compensated the harm and was the same as requiring the agreement to be carried out. The courts of law provided a sufficient remedy in those cases, but not in others. When a tenant sued his lord for wrongfully removing him from leased land, the damages awarded were no substitute for possession of the land. For a while, all such cases went to the court of chancery, costing the courts of law considerable business. To draw these cases back, the courts of law are said to have invented the artificial, fictitious writ of ejectment. It was the most effective remedy for wrongful eviction or dispossession of land.
Each court could collect a stamp-duty on its legal proceedings and use it to support its judges and other officers. As with court fees, this could bring in enough to cover the cost of justice without burdening society’s general revenue. But it might tempt judges to add unnecessary steps to every case to raise as much stamp-duty as possible. In modern Europe, it has usually been customary to pay attorneys and court clerks by the number of pages they need to write. Courts set a minimum number of lines for each page and words for each line. To increase their pay, attorneys and clerks have still found ways to use many more words than necessary. I believe this has damaged the language of the law in every European court. A similar incentive might similarly damage legal procedure.
Whether justice pays its own costs or judges receive fixed salaries from another fund, there seems to be no need for the people holding executive power to control the fund or pay the salaries. The money could come from rent on landed estates, with each court managing the estate that pays for it. It could even come from interest on a sum of money, with the court that it supports managing the loans. A small part of the salaries of judges in Scotland’s court of session does come from interest on money. But such a fund is necessarily unstable. That seems to make it unsuitable for supporting an institution meant to last forever.
Judicial and executive power seem to have been separated originally because society’s development created more business. Administering justice became so demanding and complicated that it required the full attention of the person in charge. A person responsible for executive power no longer had time to decide private cases, so a deputy was appointed to do it instead. As Rome grew more powerful, the consul became too busy with affairs of state to administer justice. A praetor was therefore appointed to do that work. As the European monarchies established on the ruins of the Roman empire developed, rulers and great lords everywhere came to regard administering justice as too demanding and too lowly a job to do themselves. So they handed it over to a deputy, bailiff, or judge.
When judicial and executive power belong to the same people, justice can hardly avoid being sacrificed frequently to what people commonly call politics. Those responsible for the state’s major interests may sometimes believe they must sacrifice an individual’s rights to those interests, even without corrupt motives. Yet everyone’s liberty and sense of personal safety depend on the impartial administration of justice. To make each person feel fully secure in every right they hold, judicial power must not only be separate from executive power. It must also be as independent of it as possible. Executive officials should not be able to remove a judge whenever they feel like it. Regular payment of the judge’s salary should not depend on their goodwill or even on how well they manage money.
PART III. The Cost of Public Works and Public Institutions
The ruler’s or commonwealth’s third and last duty is to build and maintain certain public institutions and public works. They can bring tremendous benefits to a large society, but an individual or small group could never earn enough from them to recover the cost. So no individual or small group can be expected to build or maintain them. Carrying out this duty also costs very different amounts at different stages of society.
Public institutions and works needed for defense and justice have already been discussed. Most of the remaining ones make commerce easier or help educate people. Educational institutions are of two kinds: those for educating young people and those for instructing people of all ages. How to pay for these various kinds of public works and institutions will be the subject of the three articles of this third part of the chapter.
ARTICLE I.—Public Works and Institutions That Make Commerce Easier
First, those needed to make commerce easier in general.
It is obvious without proof that building and maintaining works that make a country’s commerce easier, such as good roads, bridges, navigable canals, harbors, and similar works, costs very different amounts at different stages of society. The cost of building and maintaining public roads must rise with the yearly output of the country’s land and labor, or with the quantity and weight of the goods that must be transported on those roads. A bridge must be strong enough for the number and weight of vehicles likely to cross it. A navigable canal needs enough depth and water for the number and tonnage of the cargo boats likely to use it. A harbor must be large enough for the number of ships likely to shelter there.
These works do not seem to need funding from what is usually called public revenue, which in most countries is collected and spent by the executive authorities. Most can easily be run so as to bring in their own revenue, enough to pay for them without burdening society’s general revenue.
For example, a small toll on vehicles using a highway or bridge, or on cargo boats using a navigable canal, can usually pay to build and maintain it. A moderate port-duty based on the tonnage of ships loading or unloading in a harbor can pay for the harbor. Coinage, another institution that helps commerce, not only pays for itself in many countries but also brings the ruler a small income, or seignorage. The post-office serves the same purpose. In almost every country, it pays for itself and brings the ruler a very substantial income besides.
When vehicles crossing a highway or bridge and cargo boats sailing on a navigable canal pay a toll based on their weight or tonnage, their payment for maintaining the works is exactly proportional to the wear and tear they cause. It is hard to imagine a fairer way to maintain them. The carrier pays the tax or toll up front, but the consumer ultimately pays it in the price of the goods. Yet these public works greatly reduce the cost of transporting goods. Even with the toll, the goods reach the consumer more cheaply than they otherwise could. The toll increases their price by less than cheaper transport reduces it. So the person who ultimately pays the tax gains more from the project than the payment costs. The payment is exactly proportional to the gain. It is really just part of the gain that the person must give up to receive the rest. It is hard to imagine a fairer way to collect a tax. Suppose the toll on luxury vehicles, such as coaches and post-chaises, is somewhat higher relative to their weight than the toll on practical vehicles, such as carts and wagons. Then the rich people’s idleness and vanity can easily help the poor by lowering the cost of transporting heavy goods to every part of the country.
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 roads, bridges, canals, and similar works are built and maintained with money from the commerce that uses them, they can be built only where that commerce needs them. That is where they should be built. Their cost, size, and splendor must also match what the commerce can pay. So they must be built in a suitable way. No one could build a splendid highway through a desert with little or no commerce just because it leads to a provincial intendant's country house, or to the house of a great lord whom the intendant wants to flatter. Nor could anyone build a great bridge where nobody crosses the river simply to improve the view from a nearby palace. Yet such things sometimes happen where these works are paid for from revenue other than what the works themselves bring in.
In several parts of Europe, private people own the tolls or lock fees on a canal. Their own interest makes them maintain it. If they fail to keep it in reasonable condition, boats cannot use it at all, and they lose all the profit from its tolls. Commissioners with no personal interest in the tolls might take less care of the works that earn them. The canal of Languedoc cost the king of France and the province more than thirteen millions of livres. At twenty-eight livres per mark of silver, the value of French money at the end of the last century, that came to more than nine hundred thousand pounds sterling. Once this great work was finished, it was decided that the best way to keep it in constant repair was to give its tolls to Riquet, the engineer who designed and directed it. Those tolls now provide a very large estate for the different branches of his family. They therefore have a strong reason to keep the canal in repair. Commissioners without that interest might instead have spent the tolls on decorative and unnecessary things while letting the most important parts fall into ruin.
Tolls meant to maintain a highway cannot safely be made private property. A highway does not become completely impassable when wholly neglected, but a canal does. The highway toll owners could therefore neglect all repairs and still collect nearly the same tolls. The tolls for maintaining such a work should instead be managed by commissioners or trustees.
In Great Britain, people have rightly complained in many cases about trustees' abuse of their control over these tolls. At many toll gates, it is said, they collect more than twice what it would take to do the work thoroughly. Yet they often do it carelessly, or do none of it at all. Repairing highways with these tolls is a fairly recent system. We should not be surprised that it has not yet become as good as it could be. People unsuited to the job are often made trustees, and suitable courts to inspect their work and accounts have not yet been set up. Such courts could oversee their conduct and limit the tolls to what is just enough for the work. The system's recent origin both explains and excuses these defects. With wise action by parliament, most of them can gradually be fixed in time.
Some believe the money collected at Great Britain's toll gates exceeds the cost of repairing the roads by so much that careful management could yield great savings. Even some ministers have seen these savings as a major resource for the state's future needs. It has been said that the government could take over the toll gates and use soldiers to maintain the roads. Soldiers would do the work for a small addition to their pay. This would cost much less than employing the trustees' workers, who must live entirely on their wages. It has been claimed that this could bring in a large revenue, perhaps half a million [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 net revenue amounting to half a million; under government management, that sum would not suffice to keep five of the kingdom's main roads in repair], without adding any new burden on the people. Toll roads could then contribute to the general cost of government, just as the post office now does.
I have no doubt this plan could raise a considerable revenue, though probably far less than its promoters suppose. But the plan itself seems open to several serious objections.
First, if tolls at the gates ever became a source of funds for the state's needs, they would certainly rise whenever those needs were thought to require it. Under Great Britain's policies, they would probably rise very quickly. The ease of getting substantial revenue from them would probably make the government use this source very often. It may be more than doubtful whether even careful management could save half a million from today's tolls. But if the tolls doubled, it seems likely that a million could be saved; if they tripled, perhaps two millions [I now have good reason to believe that all these estimated sums are far too large.]. This revenue could also be collected without appointing a single new officer. But tolls raised over and over in this way would soon become a heavy burden on inland commerce rather than helping it, as they now do. Transporting heavy goods across the country would quickly become much more costly. Their market would therefore shrink so much that producers would largely stop making them, and the most important branches of domestic industry would be wiped out altogether.
Secondly, a tax on carriages based on their weight is quite fair when used only to repair roads. It is very unfair when used for anything else, including the ordinary needs of the state. In the first case, each carriage is understood to pay exactly for the wear it causes. In the second, each carriage pays for more than that wear and contributes to some other state need. But a toll gate raises the price of goods according to their weight, not their value. Buyers of coarse and bulky goods therefore pay most of it, rather than buyers of valuable, lightweight goods. Whatever state need the tax paid for, it would be met chiefly by the poor, not the rich. The people least able to pay would bear it instead of those most able.
Thirdly, if the government ever neglected road repairs, it would be even harder than it is now to force anyone to spend the tolls properly. The people might pay a large sum without any of it going to the only purpose for which tolls should ever be collected. Today, trustees' low standing and poverty sometimes make it hard to force them to put right their wrongdoing. It would be ten times harder to compel the wealthy and powerful government in this case.
In France, money set aside for highway repairs is directly controlled by the executive power. It comes partly from a required number of days of labor by rural people, as is common in most of Europe. The rest comes from whatever portion of the state's general revenue the king chooses not to spend on other things.
Under the old laws of France, as in most other parts of Europe, local or provincial magistrates directed this rural labor. They did not answer directly to the king's council. Today, both the labor and any other funds the king assigns for highway repairs in a province or generality are entirely managed by the intendant. The king's council appoints and removes this officer, gives him orders, and stays in regular contact with him. As despotism grows, executive power gradually takes over the authority of every other part of the state. It takes charge of every source of revenue meant for a public purpose. In France, however, the main post roads connecting the kingdom's chief towns are generally kept in good condition. In some provinces they are much better than most English toll roads. But the cross roads, meaning the great majority of the country's roads, are entirely neglected. In many places heavy carriages cannot use them at all. In some places even riding a horse is dangerous, and only mules can safely carry travelers. A proud minister at a showy court may enjoy building a splendid highway. Important nobles often see it, and their praise flatters him and helps his standing at court. But small projects cannot make a grand impression or win a traveler's admiration, no matter how well they are done. Their only appeal is their great usefulness. Such work seems far too humble to deserve the attention of so important an official. Under that kind of administration, it is therefore almost always wholly neglected.
In China and several other Asian governments, the executive power takes charge of repairing highways and maintaining navigable canals. Provincial governors are said to be repeatedly instructed to attend to these works. The court judges them largely by how much attention they seem to pay to this duty. Public management of this kind is therefore said to receive much attention throughout those countries, especially China. Its highways, and even more its navigable canals, are claimed to surpass anything of the kind known in Europe. But accounts of these works sent to Europe have usually come from gullible travelers full of wonder, and often from foolish, dishonest missionaries. More capable observers and more reliable reports might have made the works seem less extraordinary. Bernier's account of such works in Indostan is much less impressive than the accounts of other travelers more inclined to marvel at them. These countries may also be like France. They may look after the main roads and connections likely to be discussed at court and in the capital while neglecting the rest. Moreover, in China, Indostan, and several other Asian governments, nearly all the sovereign's revenue comes from a land tax or land rent. It rises and falls with the land's annual produce. The sovereign's own revenue is therefore directly and necessarily tied to the cultivation of the land and to the amount and value of its produce. To make that produce as plentiful and valuable as possible, it needs the widest possible market. That requires the freest, easiest, and least expensive connections between all parts of the country, which only the best roads and navigable canals can provide. Nowhere in Europe, however, does the sovereign get most of his revenue from a land tax or land rent. In all Europe's great kingdoms, most revenue may ultimately depend on the produce of the land. But this dependence is neither so direct nor so obvious. A European sovereign therefore feels less direct pressure to increase the amount and value of that produce, or to provide it with the widest market by maintaining good roads and canals. Even if it is true that executive power manages this public service well in some parts of Asia—and I have considerable doubts that it does—there is no chance that, under present conditions, it could manage it reasonably well anywhere in Europe.
Some public works cannot bring in revenue to maintain themselves, and benefit mainly one place or district. Even these are always better maintained with local or provincial revenue managed by local or provincial officials than with the state's general revenue, which executive power must control. If London's streets were lit and paved at treasury expense, would they be lit and paved as well as they now are, or at as little cost? Instead of a local tax on the residents of each London street, parish, or district, the cost would come from general state revenue. All the kingdom's residents would therefore be taxed, though most would get no benefit at all 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
Local and provincial officials sometimes abuse local and provincial revenue. Their abuses may look enormous, but they are almost always tiny compared with the abuses common in spending the revenue of a great empire. They are also much easier to correct. In Great Britain, local or provincial justices of the peace manage the six days of labor that rural people must give to road repairs. The work may not always be used wisely, but it is hardly ever demanded with cruelty or oppression. In France, under the intendants, the work is not always used more wisely, and it is often demanded with extreme cruelty and oppression. These compulsory labor duties, called corvees, are among the chief tools of tyranny. Intendants use them to punish any parish or community unfortunate enough to displease them.
On the public works and institutions needed to help particular branches of commerce.
The public works and institutions discussed above aim to help commerce as a whole. But some particular branches need particular institutions, which in turn call for special additional expense.
Some branches of commerce with peoples considered barbarous and uncivilized need unusual protection. An ordinary warehouse or trading office would offer little security for the goods of merchants trading on Africa's west coast. To protect them against the local inhabitants, the place where the goods are stored must be fortified to some degree. Disorder in Indostan's government has been thought to require a similar precaution even among its mild and gentle people. The English and French East India companies were allowed to build their first forts there on the pretext of protecting their people and property from violence. In other countries, strong governments will not allow foreigners to hold any fortified place within their borders. There it may be necessary to keep an ambassador, minister, or consul. He can settle disputes among his countrymen according to their own customs. In disputes with local people, his official status lets him intervene with more authority and offer more protection than any private person could. Commerce has often made it necessary to keep ministers in foreign countries where war or alliances would not require them. The Turkey company's commerce first led to a permanent ambassador at Constantinople. The first English embassies to Russia arose entirely from commercial interests. Constant conflicts involving those interests among the subjects of Europe's different states probably led to the practice of keeping resident ambassadors or ministers in every neighboring country, even in peacetime. Ancient peoples did not know this custom. It seems to date only from the end of the fifteenth or the beginning of the sixteenth century, when commerce first spread to most European nations and they first paid attention to its interests.
It seems reasonable to pay the extra cost of protecting a particular branch of commerce with a moderate tax on that branch. This could be a moderate entry fee for traders or, more fairly, a specified percentage duty on the goods they import into or export from the countries involved. Customs duties are said to have first arisen to pay for protecting trade in general against pirates and raiders. If a general tax on trade is reasonable for protecting trade in general, a special tax on one branch of trade should be equally reasonable for paying its extra protection costs.
Protecting trade in general has always been seen as essential to defending the commonwealth and therefore a necessary duty of the executive power. For this reason, it has always been left to the executive to collect and spend general customs duties. Protecting any one branch of trade is part of protecting trade as a whole, and therefore also part of the executive's duty. If nations were consistent, they would also always leave the special duties that pay for this protection under its control. But nations have not always acted consistently in this or in many other matters. In most of Europe's commercial states, particular merchant companies have managed to persuade lawmakers to hand them this part of the sovereign's duty along with all the powers that come with it.
These companies may have helped introduce some branches of commerce by trying something at their own expense that the state did not think wise to try. In the long run, though, they have always proved either burdensome or useless. They have either managed trade badly or restricted it.
Some companies do not trade with a joint stock. Instead, they must admit anyone who meets the qualifications, pays a set fee, and agrees to the company's rules. Each member trades with his own stock and at his own risk. These are called regulated companies. Others trade with a joint stock. Each member shares the common profit or loss according to his share of that stock. These are called joint-stock companies. Both types may or may not have exclusive privileges.
Regulated companies closely resemble the trade corporations found in cities and towns across Europe. They are larger monopolies of the same kind. A town resident cannot legally practice a trade controlled by a corporation without first joining it. In the same way, in most cases a subject cannot legally engage in foreign trade covered by a regulated company without first becoming a member. The monopoly is stricter when admission is harder. It is also stricter when directors have more power to arrange matters so that most of the trade goes to themselves and their particular friends. In the oldest regulated companies, apprenticeship brought the same rights as in other corporations. A person who had served his apprenticeship under a member could become a member himself, either for no fee or for a much lower fee than other people paid. Wherever the law does not restrain it, the usual corporate attitude prevails in every regulated company. Left to themselves, these companies have always tried to limit the number of competitors as much as possible by burdening the trade with many rules. When law prevents them from doing so, they become wholly useless and unimportant.
The regulated foreign-trade companies still operating in Great Britain are the ancient merchant-adventurers company, now usually called the Hamburgh company, the Russia company, the Eastland company, the Turkey company, and the African company.
Joining the Hamburgh company is now said to be quite easy. Its directors either cannot impose burdensome restrictions or rules on trade, or at least have not used that power recently. This was not always true. Around the middle of the last century, the entry fee was fifty pounds, and at one point one hundred pounds. The company was said to act with extreme oppression. In 1643, in 1645, and in 1661, cloth makers and independent traders in western England complained to parliament. They said the company was a monopoly that restricted trade and oppressed the country's manufactures. Parliament passed no law in response, but the complaints probably frightened the company enough to change its behavior. At least no one has complained about it since. The 10th and 11th of William III. c.6 reduced the Russia company's entry fee to five pounds. The 25th of Charles II. c.7 reduced the Eastland company's fee to forty shillings. At the same time, Sweden, Denmark, and Norway, and all the countries on the north side of the Baltic, were excluded from the company's exclusive charter. These two acts of parliament were probably prompted by the companies' behavior. Earlier, Sir Josiah Child had described both companies and the Hamburgh company as extremely oppressive. He blamed their bad management for the poor state of our trade with the countries covered by their charters. Even if such companies are not very oppressive today, they are certainly useless. Indeed, being merely useless may be the highest praise a regulated company can justly receive. All three companies just mentioned seem to deserve that praise in their present condition.
The Turkey company's entry fee used to be twenty-five pounds for anyone under twenty-six years of age, and fifty pounds for anyone older. Only merchants could join, excluding all shopkeepers and retailers. One company rule allowed British manufactures to be exported to Turkey only in the company's general ships. Because these ships always sailed from London, the rule confined the trade to that expensive port and to traders living in or near London. Another rule barred anyone living within twenty miles of London who lacked the freedom of the city. Together with the first rule, it effectively left only London's freemen eligible. The directors alone set the times when the general ships would be loaded and would sail. They could easily fill the ships with their own goods and those of particular friends, shutting out others by claiming their requests had come too late. The company was therefore a strict and oppressive monopoly in every respect. These abuses led to the act of the 26th of George II. c. 18. It cut the entry fee to twenty pounds for everyone, regardless of age, and removed restrictions limiting membership to merchants or London freemen. It also allowed all such people to export any British goods not prohibited from export from any British port to any Turkish port. They had to pay both ordinary customs duties and special duties to cover the company's necessary expenses. They also had to submit to the lawful authority of the British ambassador and consuls living in Turkey and to the company's legally enacted rules. To prevent oppression by those rules, the same act allowed any seven members who felt harmed by a rule passed after the act to appeal to the board of trade and plantations, whose powers now belong to a privy council committee. They had to appeal within twelve months of the rule's enactment. Any seven members harmed by an earlier rule could also appeal, but only within twelve months after the act took effect. Yet one year's experience may not be enough for every member of a large company to see the harm a particular rule might cause. If several discover it later, neither the board of trade nor the council committee can help them. Besides, most rules of regulated companies and other corporations aim less to oppress current members than to discourage new ones. A high fee is not the only way to do that. Such companies always aim to push up their own rate of profit as high as possible. They try to keep the markets for both their exports and imports as undersupplied as possible. They can do this only by limiting competition or discouraging newcomers. Even a twenty-pound fee might not stop someone who plans to stay in the Turkey trade, but it could stop a merchant who wants to risk a single speculative venture. In every trade, established traders naturally join forces to raise profits, even if they are not incorporated. Nothing is as likely to keep those profits at a proper level at all times as occasional competition from merchants making speculative ventures. Many people still believe that the Turkey trade is far from completely free, even though this act opened it to a degree. The Turkey company helps pay for an ambassador and two or three consuls. Like other public ministers, they ought to be paid for wholly by the state, and the trade should be open to all his majesty's subjects. The company's taxes for this and other corporate purposes could provide the state with far more revenue than it needs to pay for these ministers.
Sir Josiah Child observed that regulated companies had often supported public ministers but had never maintained forts or garrisons in the countries where they traded. Joint-stock companies, by contrast, often had. Regulated companies really do seem much less suited to this work. First, their directors have no special interest in the success of the company's trade as a whole, for whose sake the forts and garrisons are maintained. A decline in that general trade may even help their own private businesses. Fewer competitors let them buy more cheaply and sell at higher prices. Directors of a joint-stock company, by contrast, receive only their share of the profits on the common stock they manage. They have no separate private trade whose interests can conflict with those of the company as a whole. Their own interest depends on the success of its general trade and on maintaining the forts and garrisons needed to defend it. They are therefore more likely to give that maintenance the constant, careful attention it requires. Secondly, joint-stock directors manage the company's large common capital. They can often properly spend part of it on building, repairing, and maintaining necessary forts and garrisons. Directors of a regulated company manage no common capital. Their only funds for this purpose are the irregular revenue from entry fees and the company duties charged on its trade. Even if they were equally interested in maintaining forts and garrisons, they would rarely be equally able to do it effectively. Supporting a public minister takes little attention and only a moderate, limited expense. It suits both the inclinations and abilities of a regulated company much better.
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
Yet long after Sir Josiah Child's time, in 1750, a regulated company was established: the present company of merchants trading to Africa. At first it was explicitly made responsible for maintaining all British forts and garrisons between Cape Blanc and the Cape of Good Hope. Later it was responsible only for those between Cape Rouge and the Cape of Good Hope. The act establishing it (the 23rd of George II. c.51 ) seems to have had two separate aims. First, it tried to curb the oppressive drive toward monopoly that regulated-company directors naturally have. Secondly, it tried to make them pay as much attention as possible to maintaining forts and garrisons, something they are not naturally inclined to do.
For the first aim, the entry fee was limited to forty shillings. The company was forbidden to trade as a corporation or with joint stock, to borrow money under its common seal, or to restrict trade. Any British subject paying the fee could trade freely from anywhere. A committee of nine governed the company and met in London. Its members were elected every year by company freemen in London, Bristol, and Liverpool, three from each place. No committee member could serve more than three years in a row. The board of trade and plantations, now replaced by a council committee, could remove any member after hearing his defense. The committee was forbidden to export enslaved people from Africa or import African goods into Great Britain. But because it had to maintain forts and garrisons, it could export various goods and supplies from Great Britain to Africa for that purpose. From the money it received from the company, it could use no more than eight hundred pounds for salaries of clerks and agents in London, Bristol, and Liverpool; rent for its London offices; and all other management, commission, and agency expenses in England. The members could divide any remainder among themselves as they wished, to pay for their work. One might have expected this structure to restrain the drive toward monopoly effectively, and thus meet the first aim. Apparently it did not. Under the 4th of George III. c.20, the fort of Senegal and all its dependencies had been put under the company of merchants trading to Africa. But the next year, under the 5th of George III. c.44, Senegal and its dependencies, along with the entire coast from the port of Sallee in South Barbary to Cape Rouge, were removed from the company's control. They were placed under the crown, and trade there was declared open to all his majesty's subjects. The company had been suspected of restricting trade and setting up some improper monopoly. It is hard, though, to see how it could do so under the rules of the 23d George II. Still, the printed house of commons debates, which are not always the most reliable records of truth, do accuse it of this. All nine committee members were merchants. The governors and agents at the company's forts and settlements depended on them. Those officials may well have given special attention to shipments and commissions belonging to the committee members, creating a real monopoly.
For the second aim, maintaining the forts and garrisons, parliament allotted the company a yearly sum, generally about £13,000. The committee had to account each year to the cursitor baron of exchequer for its use of this money, and the accounts then had to go before parliament. But parliament pays so little attention to how millions are spent that it is unlikely to pay much attention to £13,000 a year. The cursitor baron of exchequer is also unlikely, given his profession and training, to know much about the proper costs of forts and garrisons. Captains of his majesty's navy or other commissioned officers appointed by the board of admiralty can inspect the forts and garrisons and report their findings to the board. But the board seems to have no direct power over the committee and no authority to correct the conduct it investigates. Besides, naval captains are not expected to know much about fortification. Unless a committee member directly misuses or steals public or company money, the worst penalty he seems to face is removal from an office held for only three years, with very small lawful earnings even during that time. Fear of losing the office cannot be a strong enough reason for someone with no other interest in the matter to pay steady, close attention to it. The committee has been accused of shipping bricks and stones from England to repair Cape Coast Castle on the coast of Guinea. Parliament had repeatedly granted extra money for this work. The bricks and stones sent on this long voyage were said to be so poor that walls repaired with them had to be rebuilt from their foundations. The state pays to maintain the forts and garrisons north of Cape Rouge, and the executive power governs them directly. Those south of the cape are also maintained at least partly at state expense. It is hard to imagine a good reason why they should be governed differently. The garrisons of Gibraltar and Minorca were originally meant, or claimed to be meant, to protect Mediterranean trade. Their maintenance and government have properly always been entrusted to the executive, not to the Turkey company. The extent of its territory is a major source of the executive power's pride and status, so it is unlikely to neglect what is needed to defend that territory. The garrisons at Gibraltar and Minorca have never been neglected. Minorca has been captured twice and is now probably lost forever, but no one has blamed those losses on executive neglect. I do not mean, however, to suggest that either expensive garrison was ever needed, even slightly, for the purpose for which the places were originally taken from the Spanish monarchy. Taking them away may have served no real purpose except to estrange England from her natural ally, the king of Spain, and to bring the two main branches of the house of Bourbon into a closer and longer-lasting alliance than family ties alone ever could.
Joint-stock companies set up by royal charter or act of parliament differ in several ways both from regulated companies and from private partnerships.
First, in a private partnership, a partner cannot transfer his share to someone else or bring in a new member without the other partners' consent. But with proper notice, each member can leave and demand that the partnership pay him his share of its common stock. In a joint-stock company, by contrast, a member cannot demand that the company pay him for his share. But he can transfer it to another person, making that person a new member, without the company's consent. The value of a share in a joint stock is always the price it will fetch on the market. That price can be greater or less, by any amount, than the sum credited to its owner in the company's stock.
Secondly, a partner in a private partnership is responsible for company debts with his entire fortune. In a joint-stock company, by contrast, each member's responsibility goes only as far as his share.
A board of directors always manages a joint-stock company's trade. In many matters, the board is often subject to oversight by a general meeting of the owners. But most owners rarely claim to understand the company's business. Unless factions are fighting among them, they do not trouble themselves about it. They simply accept whatever half-yearly or yearly dividend the directors choose to pay. Being free of work and of any risk beyond a limited sum encourages many people to invest in joint-stock companies who would never risk their fortunes in a private partnership. These companies commonly gather far larger stocks than any private partnership can. At one time, the South Sea company's trading stock amounted to more than thirty-three millions eight hundred thousand pounds. The Bank of England's divided capital currently amounts to ten millions seven hundred and eighty thousand pounds. Yet directors manage other people's money rather than their own. We cannot expect them to watch it as anxiously as partners in a private partnership often watch their own money. Like a rich man's stewards, directors tend to think that attending to small details is beneath their employer's dignity, and readily excuse themselves from doing it. Some negligence and extravagance are therefore bound to occur in managing such a company. For this reason, joint-stock companies engaged in foreign trade have rarely been able to compete against independent traders. They have rarely succeeded without an exclusive privilege and have often failed even with one. Without an exclusive privilege they have usually managed trade badly. With one they have both managed it badly and restricted it.
The Royal African company, which came before the present African company, had an exclusive privilege under its charter. But parliament had not confirmed the charter by an act. As a result of the declaration of rights, the trade was opened to all his majesty's subjects soon after the Revolution. As far as their legal rights go, the Hudson's Bay company is in the same position as the Royal African company: no act of parliament has confirmed its exclusive charter. The South Sea company had an exclusive privilege confirmed by an act of parliament while it remained a trading company. The present united company of merchants trading to the East Indies has one too.
The Royal African company soon discovered that it could not compete with independent traders. Despite the declaration of rights, for some time it continued to call them interlopers and persecute them. In 1698, however, those independent traders had to pay a ten per cent. duty on almost every branch of their trade, which the company was to use to maintain its forts and garrisons. Despite this heavy tax, the company still could not compete. Its stock and credit steadily declined. By 1712, its debts had become so large that parliament thought it necessary to pass a special act to protect the company and its creditors. The act made a decision by two-thirds of the creditors, measured both by their number and by the value of their claims, binding on the rest. This applied to the time allowed for the company to repay its debts and to any other agreement with it about those debts. By 1730, the company's affairs were in such disorder that it could not maintain its forts and garrisons, the only purpose and stated justification for creating it. From that year until its final dissolution, parliament thought it necessary to provide £10,000 a year for that purpose. In 1732, after many years of losing money on the trade of transporting enslaved Africans to the West Indies, the company finally decided to quit it. It would sell the enslaved Africans it bought on the coast to private traders bound for America, and use its servants to trade inland in Africa for gold dust, elephants' teeth, dyeing materials, etc. But it was no more successful in this smaller trade than in its earlier, wider one. Its affairs kept declining until, bankrupt in every respect, it was dissolved by act of parliament. Its forts and garrisons were transferred to the present regulated company of merchants trading to Africa. Before the Royal African company was established, three other joint-stock companies had been set up one after another for the African trade. All three were equally unsuccessful. Each had an exclusive charter which, though not confirmed by an act of parliament, was thought at the time to give a real exclusive privilege.
Before its misfortunes in the late war, the Hudson's Bay company had done much better than the Royal African company. Its necessary expenses are much smaller. It is said to maintain no more than a hundred and twenty people in all its settlements and dwellings, which it has honored with the name of forts. That number is enough to have furs and other goods ready to load onto its ships before they arrive. Because of the ice, those ships can seldom stay in those waters for more than six or eight weeks. Independent traders could not gain this advantage of a prepared cargo for several years, and without it trade to Hudson's Bay seems impossible. The company's modest capital, said to be no more than one hundred and ten thousand pounds, may also be enough to corner all or almost all the trade and surplus produce of the poor but vast country covered by its charter. No independent trader has therefore ever tried to compete there. The company has always had exclusive trade in practice, though it may have no legal right to it. Furthermore, its modest capital is said to be shared among very few owners. A joint-stock company with few owners and modest capital is quite close to a private partnership and can be almost as watchful and attentive. Given all these advantages, it is not surprising that the Hudson's Bay company was able to carry on its trade fairly successfully before the late war. It does not seem likely, though, that its profits ever came close to what the late Mr Dobbs imagined. Mr Anderson, author of the Historical and Chronological Deduction of Commerce, is a much more restrained and sensible writer. He rightly notes that Mr Dobbs's own accounts of several years of exports and imports, once adjusted for the company's unusual risks and costs, show profits that are nothing to envy. They may not be much higher, if higher at all, than the normal 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. It therefore avoided a major expense that other joint-stock companies engaged in foreign trade had to bear. But it had a huge capital shared among a huge number of owners. It was only natural to expect foolishness, carelessness, and waste throughout the management of its affairs. Its dishonest and extravagant schemes for trading company shares are well known, and explaining them would take us away from this subject. Its trading ventures were not managed much better. Its first venture was supplying enslaved Africans to the Spanish West Indies. Under what was called the Assiento Contract, granted by the treaty of Utrecht, it had the exclusive right to that trade. But no one expected it to make much profit there. The Portuguese and French companies that had held the same right on the same terms had both been ruined by it. So, as compensation, the South Sea company was allowed to send a ship of a specified size each year to trade directly with the Spanish West Indies. That annual ship was allowed ten voyages. The company is said to have made a substantial profit on one, the voyage of the Royal Caroline in 1731, and to have lost money, to varying degrees, on almost all the others. Its factors and agents blamed the failures on the Spanish government's extortion and oppression. But the chief cause may have been those very factors' and agents' waste and theft. Some of them are said to have made large fortunes in just one year. In 1734, the company petitioned the king for permission to give up the trading rights and shipping allowance for its annual ship because they brought in so little profit. It asked instead to accept whatever equivalent payment it could obtain from the king of Spain.
In 1724, the company had taken up whaling. It had no monopoly on that trade, but while it pursued it, no other British subjects appear to have done so. Its ships made eight voyages to Greenland. It profited from one and lost money on every other voyage. After the eighth and final voyage, it sold its ships, supplies, and equipment. It then found that its total loss on this part of the business, including capital and interest, came to more than £237,000.
In 1722, the company asked parliament to let it divide its huge capital of more than thirty-three millions eight hundred thousand pounds into two equal parts. It had lent all this money to the government. One half, or more than £16,900,000, would be treated like other government annuities and protected from debts the company's directors incurred or losses they suffered in their trading ventures. The other half would remain trading stock and bear those debts and losses as before. The petition was so reasonable that parliament granted it. In 1733, the company again asked parliament to turn three-fourths of its trading stock into annuity stock. Only one-fourth would remain trading stock, exposed to the risks of its directors' bad management. By then, several payments from the government had reduced both its annuity stock and its trading stock by more than two millions each. The remaining fourth therefore amounted to only £3,662,784:8:6. In 1748, under the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, the company gave up all its claims against the king of Spain arising from the assiento contract in return for what was thought to be an equivalent. Its trade with the Spanish West Indies ended, its remaining trading stock became annuity stock, and the company ceased to trade in any way.
We should note that the company faced competitors both abroad and at home in the trade it conducted with its annual ship. This was the only trade from which anyone had expected it to make any substantial profit. At Carthagena, Porto Bello, and La Vera Cruz, it competed with Spanish merchants. They brought European goods from Cadiz to those markets, the same kinds of goods as its ship carried outward. In England, it competed with English merchants who imported goods from the Spanish West Indies through Cadiz, the same kinds its ship brought home. The Spanish and English merchants' goods may have faced higher duties. But losses from the company's employees' carelessness, waste, and misconduct probably cost it far more than all those duties. Experience suggests that a joint-stock company cannot successfully conduct any foreign trade when private traders can compete with it openly and fairly.
The old English East India company was established in 1600 under a charter from Queen Elizabeth. On the first twelve voyages it organized to India, it seems to have operated as a regulated company. Its members used separate stocks, though they sailed only on the company's shared ships. In 1612, they combined their funds into a joint stock. The charter gave the company an exclusive right. Although no act of parliament confirmed it, people at the time believed it gave the company a genuine monopoly. For many years, therefore, unauthorized competitors caused it little trouble. Its capital never exceeded £744,000, and a share cost £50. Neither the capital nor the scale of its business was so large as to provide an excuse for extreme carelessness and waste or a cover for serious wrongdoing. Despite some exceptional losses, caused partly by the Dutch East India company's hostility and partly by other mishaps, it traded successfully for many years. Over time, however, people came to understand the principles of liberty better. They increasingly questioned whether a royal charter unconfirmed by an act of parliament could grant a monopoly. Courts gave conflicting answers, changing with the government's position and the mood of the times. Unauthorized traders multiplied. Toward the end of Charles II.'s reign, throughout James II.'s reign, and during part of William III.'s reign, they put the company under great pressure. In 1698, subscribers proposed lending the government two millions at eight per cent., on condition that parliament make them a new East India company with exclusive rights. The old East India company offered to lend seven hundred thousand pounds, almost its entire capital, at four per cent. on the same terms. But public credit was then in such a condition that borrowing two millions at eight per cent. was more convenient for the government than borrowing seven hundred thousand pounds at four. It accepted the new subscribers' offer, and a new East India company was established. The old company, however, retained the right to trade until 1701. It had also cleverly subscribed three hundred and fifteen thousand pounds to the new company's stock in its treasurer's name. The act of parliament gave the subscribers to the two-million loan the East India trade. But because its wording was careless, it was unclear whether they all had to combine their funds into a joint stock. A few private traders, whose subscriptions totaled only seven thousand two hundred pounds, claimed the right to trade separately with their own capital and at their own risk. The old company could trade separately with its own stock until 1701. Both before and after that date, it could also trade separately, like those other private traders, on the £315,000 it had subscribed to the new company's stock. The two companies' competition with the private traders and with each other is said to have nearly ruined them both. Later, in 1750, someone proposed to parliament that the trade be managed by a regulated company, which would open it up to some extent. Opposing the proposal, the East India company strongly described what it regarded as the disastrous effects of the earlier competition. In India, it said, competition had driven prices so high that goods were not worth buying. In England, it had flooded the market and driven prices so low that selling them brought no profit. A larger supply must indeed have substantially lowered the price of Indian goods in England, greatly benefiting the public and making those goods more accessible. But it seems unlikely to have raised their price much in India. All the extra demand that competition could have created would have been a drop in the vast ocean of Indian commerce. Besides, while greater demand can sometimes raise prices at first, it always brings them down in the long run. It encourages production and increases competition among producers. To undersell one another, they develop new forms of division of labor and new improvements in production that might never otherwise have been imagined. The disastrous effects the company complained of were lower prices for consumers and encouragement of production. These are exactly the two effects political economy should aim to bring about. In any case, the competition it described so bitterly did not last long. In 1702, a three-party agreement partly united the two companies, with the queen as the third party. In 1708, an act of parliament fully merged them into one, under their present name, the United Company of Merchants trading to the East Indies. The act included a clause allowing the separate traders to continue trading until Michaelmas 1711. At the same time, it empowered the directors to buy out their small capital of seven thousand two hundred pounds on three years' notice. That would bring all the company's capital into one joint stock. The same act increased the company's capital from two millions to three millions two hundred thousand pounds following a new loan to the government. In 1743, the company advanced another million to the government. It raised this million not by asking its owners to contribute, but by selling annuities and taking on bond debt. The new money therefore did not increase the stock on which owners could claim a dividend. It did increase its trading stock, however, since this money, like the other three millions two hundred thousand pounds, could be used to cover losses and debts from the company's trading ventures. From 1708, or at least from 1711, the company was free from all competitors. Its monopoly on English trade with the East Indies was firmly established. It traded successfully and paid its owners a modest dividend from its profits each year. During the French war that began in 1741, the ambitions of Mr Dupleix, the French governor of Pondicherry, drew it into the Carnatic wars and the politics of Indian princes. After striking victories and equally striking losses, it eventually lost Madras, then its main settlement in India. The treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle returned Madras to it. Around this time, a desire for war and conquest seems to have seized its employees in India, and it has never left them. During the French war that began in 1755, its armed forces shared the generally good fortune of Great Britain's forces. They defended Madras, captured Pondicherry, retook Calcutta, and acquired revenues from a large and rich territory. At the time, those revenues were said to exceed three millions a-year. The company enjoyed them undisturbed for several years. But in 1767, the government claimed that its territorial acquisitions and the revenues from them rightfully belonged to the crown. In return for the government dropping this claim, the company agreed to pay it £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, this meant an increase of £128,000, from one hundred and ninety-two thousand to three hundred and twenty thousand pounds a-year. Around this time it was trying to raise the dividend further, to twelve and a-half per cent. That would have brought its yearly payments to its owners up to the amount it had agreed to pay the government each year: £400,000 a-year. But two successive acts of parliament prevented it from raising the dividend during the two years covered by its agreement with the government. The acts were intended to let the company pay down its debts faster. Those debts were then estimated at more than six or seven millions sterling. In 1769, it renewed its agreement with the government for five more years. It arranged to be allowed to raise its dividend gradually to twelve and a-half per cent., but by no more than one per cent. in any year. Even at its maximum, therefore, this increase in the dividend could add only £680,000 to its combined annual payments to its owners and the government, compared with the payments it made before its recent territorial acquisitions. I have already mentioned the estimated gross revenue from those acquisitions. An account brought by the Cruttenden East Indiaman in 1769 put the net revenue, after every deduction and military expense, at two millions forty-eight thousand seven hundred and forty-seven pounds. At the same time, it was said to have another revenue, drawn partly from land but mainly from customs duties at its various settlements, of £439,000. According to its chairman's testimony before the house of commons, its trading profits then came to at least £400,000 a-year; according to its accountant, at least £500,000. Even the lower figure equaled the largest dividend it was to pay its owners. Such a large revenue could certainly have covered the £680,000 increase in its annual payments while leaving a substantial fund to reduce its debts quickly. Yet by 1773 its debts had grown instead. It had fallen behind on its payment of four hundred thousand pounds to the treasury and on duties owed to the custom-house. It owed the bank a large sum of borrowed money. It had also recklessly accepted bills drawn on it from India totaling more than twelve hundred thousand pounds. These accumulated claims put it in such difficulty that it had to cut its dividend immediately to six per cent. It also had to seek the government's mercy, asking first to be freed from further payments of the agreed £400,000 a-year and second for a loan of fourteen hundred thousand to avoid immediate bankruptcy. Its greatly increased fortune seems only to have given its employees an excuse for still greater waste and a cover for even greater misconduct than that increase alone would suggest. Parliament investigated the behavior of its employees in India and the overall condition of its affairs in India and Europe. The investigation led to several major changes in the way the company was governed at home and abroad. In India, its main settlements of Madras, Bombay, and Calcutta had previously been entirely independent of one another. They were now placed under a governor-general assisted by a council of four assessors. Parliament reserved the first appointment of the governor and council for itself. They were to live in Calcutta, which had replaced Madras as the most important English settlement in India. The court of the Mayor of Calcutta had originally been set up to hear commercial cases arising in the city and surrounding area. As the empire expanded, the court had gradually widened its authority. It was now restricted to its original purpose. In its place a new supreme court was established, with a chief justice and three judges appointed by the crown. In Europe, an owner now needed a thousand pounds in company stock to vote at the general meetings, instead of five hundred pounds, the original price of a share. An owner who bought this stock, rather than inheriting it, also had to hold it for at least one year before voting, instead of the previous six months. Previously, all twenty-four directors had been elected every year. Under the new rules, each was to serve four years, with six leaving office in rotation each year. Those six could not be reelected in the election to replace them for the coming year. People expected these changes to make both the owners' meetings and the directors' meetings more dignified and consistent in their decisions. But no changes seem capable of making those bodies fit to govern a great empire or even to share in governing it. Most members will always have too little stake in that empire's prosperity to give serious thought to advancing it. A man with a large fortune, or sometimes even a small one, will often buy a thousand pounds of India stock just to gain influence through his vote at an owners' meeting. This does not give him a share of the plunder of India, but it does give him a role in choosing those who plunder it. The directors make those appointments, but the owners elect the directors and sometimes overrule their appointments of employees in India. The directors therefore must be influenced by the owners to some degree. If a shareholder can wield that influence for a few years and get jobs for some of his 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 well-being of the great empire he has a role in governing. No other rulers have ever been, or by the nature of things could be, so utterly unconcerned about their subjects' happiness or misery, the development or ruin of their territories, or the honor or disgrace of their administration. Yet most owners of such a trading company are bound to be this unconcerned, for powerful reasons rooted in their incentives. Some of the new regulations resulting from parliament's investigation were likely to increase this indifference rather than reduce it. For example, the house of commons resolved that only after the company had repaid its government loan of £1,400,000 and reduced its bond debts to £1,500,000 could it pay a dividend of eight per cent. on its capital. Any revenue and net profits remaining at home would then be divided into four parts. Three would go to the exchequer for public use, while the fourth would be kept as a fund to reduce bond debts further or meet other unexpected needs of the company. But the company had been a poor manager and a poor ruler when it kept and controlled all its net revenue and profits. Surely it would not manage better when three-fourths belonged to others, while even the fourth reserved for its benefit had to be spent under other people's 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 to let its own employees and dependents enjoy wasting or pocketing any surplus left after paying the proposed dividend of eight per cent. It might not want the money to go instead to people with whom those resolutions would almost certainly cause some conflict. The employees and dependents might have enough influence at the owners' meetings to make them sometimes support people who had stolen from the company in open defiance of those meetings' authority. For most owners, even defending their own meeting's authority might sometimes matter less than supporting the people who had defied it.
The regulations of 1773 therefore did not end the disorder in the company's government in India. For a brief time, when it managed its affairs well, it collected more than £3,000,000 sterling in the Calcutta treasury. Later, it extended either its rule or its plunder over vast additional areas, including some of India's richest and most fertile lands. Yet everything was wasted and destroyed. The company was completely unprepared to stop or resist Hyder Ali's invasion. Because of these disorders, the company is now (1784) in worse trouble than ever. To avoid immediate bankruptcy, it has again been forced to ask the government for help. Different parties in parliament have proposed different plans for managing its affairs better. All these plans seem to take for granted what has always been abundantly clear: it is completely unfit to govern its territories. Even the company seems to recognize its inability to do so and, for that reason, seems willing to give the territories up to the government.
The right to hold forts and garrisons in distant countries called barbarous necessarily includes the right to make peace and war there. Joint-stock companies that have held the first right have always exercised the second, and have often been explicitly granted it. Recent experience has made all too clear how unjustly, unpredictably, and cruelly they have usually used that power.
When merchants undertake to establish a new trade with a distant nation called barbarous, bearing the costs and risks themselves, it may be reasonable to form them into a joint-stock company. If they succeed, they might be granted a monopoly on that trade for a fixed number of years. This is the easiest and most natural way for the state to reward them for taking the risk of an expensive and dangerous experiment from which the public will later benefit. Such a temporary monopoly can be justified on the same grounds as a similar monopoly granted to an inventor for a new machine or to an author for a new book. But when the term expires, the monopoly must end. The government should take over any forts and garrisons it proved necessary to establish, pay the company their value, and open the trade to everyone in the country. A permanent monopoly effectively imposes two unreasonable costs on everyone else. First, it makes them pay high prices for goods they could buy much more cheaply under free trade. Second, it completely bars them from a business that many of them could profitably and conveniently pursue. Worse still, these costs serve the most worthless purpose of all. They merely allow the company to support the carelessness, waste, and misconduct of its employees. Their disorderly behavior seldom lets its dividend rise above the normal profit rate in completely open trades, and very often leaves it well below that rate. Experience suggests, however, that without a monopoly, a joint-stock company cannot carry on any branch of foreign trade for long. It must buy in one market and sell at a profit in another while facing many competitors in both. It must track not only occasional changes in demand but the much greater and more frequent changes in competition and in the supply that others are likely to provide. It must skillfully and sensibly adjust the quantity and quality of every selection of goods to all these conditions. This is like a campaign whose operations change constantly. It can hardly succeed without continuous care and attention that the directors of a joint-stock company cannot be expected to maintain for long. Once its funds have been repaid and its exclusive right has expired, the East India company has a right under an act of parliament to remain a corporation with a joint stock. It may trade as a corporation with the East Indies alongside everyone else. But in those circumstances, private traders' greater care and attention would probably soon make the company tire of the trade.
The Abbe Morellet, a noted French author highly knowledgeable about political economy, lists fifty-five joint-stock companies for foreign trade founded in various parts of Europe since the year 1600. According to him, all failed through bad management despite having exclusive rights. He has been given incorrect information about the history of two or three: they were not joint-stock companies and did not fail. On the other hand, he leaves out several joint-stock companies that did fail.
The only businesses a joint-stock company seems able to run successfully without an exclusive right are those whose operations can all be organized into a routine. Their methods must be so uniform that they need little or no variation. These are, first, banking; secondly, insurance against fire, losses at sea, and capture in wartime; thirdly, building and maintaining a navigable channel or canal; and, fourthly, a similar business that brings water to a large city.
The principles of banking may seem somewhat hard to understand, but its everyday operations can be governed by firm rules. Departing from those rules in pursuit of an appealing prospect of exceptional gain is almost always extremely dangerous and often fatal to the bank that tries it. Because of the way joint-stock companies are organized, however, they generally stick to established rules more firmly than any private partnership. Such companies therefore seem particularly well suited to banking. Accordingly, Europe's main banking companies are joint-stock companies, and many operate very successfully without any exclusive right. The bank of England's only exclusive right is that no other banking company in England can have more than six members. The two banks of Edinburgh are joint-stock companies with no exclusive right.
It may not be possible to calculate exactly the size of the risk of fire, loss at sea, or capture. But one can make a rough estimate that allows these risks to be handled, to some degree, by firm rules and methods. Insurance can therefore be successfully provided by a joint-stock company without any exclusive right. Neither the London Assurance nor the Royal Exchange Assurance companies have one.
Once a navigable channel or canal has been built, managing it is quite simple and easy and can follow firm rules and methods. Even its construction can be managed this way: contractors can be hired for a specified amount per mile and per lock. The same applies to a canal, an aqueduct, or a large pipe bringing water to a big city. Joint-stock companies can therefore manage such projects successfully, and often do, without any exclusive right.
Still, it would not be reasonable to form a joint-stock company for any venture simply because it could manage that venture successfully. Nor would it be reasonable to exempt certain businesses from laws that apply to all their neighbors simply because that exemption would help them prosper. Two more conditions must accompany the ability to follow firm rules and methods before forming such a company is fully justified. First, there must be the clearest evidence that the venture is more useful to more people than most ordinary businesses. Second, it must require more capital than a private partnership can easily raise. If a modest amount of capital were enough, the venture's great usefulness would not justify forming a joint-stock company. Private traders could then readily and easily meet the demand for its products. All three conditions are met in the four businesses mentioned above.
The great and widespread usefulness of well-managed banking has been fully explained in the second book of this Inquiry. But a public bank that supports public credit may need to advance the government the entire proceeds of a tax, perhaps several millions, a year or two before the tax is collected. That requires more capital than a private partnership can easily raise.
Insurance protects private people's fortunes. It spreads among many people a loss that would ruin one individual, making the burden on society as a whole light and manageable. To provide this protection, however, insurers need very large capital reserves. Before the two joint-stock insurance companies were founded in London, it is said, a list of one hundred and fifty private lenders who had failed over a few years was given to the attorney-general.
Navigable channels and canals, and the works sometimes needed to supply a large city with water, are plainly of great and widespread use. They also often cost more than private individuals can afford.
Apart from the four businesses mentioned above, I cannot think of another that meets all three conditions needed to justify forming a joint-stock company. The English copper company of London, the lead-smelting company, and the glass-grinding company cannot even claim that their activities have any unusual or especially great public value. Nor does what they do seem to require spending beyond the means of many private individuals. I do not claim to know whether their businesses can follow rules and methods firm enough to suit joint-stock management, or whether they have any grounds for boasting of exceptional profits. The mine-adventurers company went bankrupt long ago. A share of the British Linen company of Edinburgh currently sells well below its nominal value, though not as far below as it did some years ago. Some joint-stock companies are founded with the public-minded aim of promoting a particular manufacture. They manage their own affairs badly and thereby reduce society's overall stock. Beyond that, they can hardly avoid doing more harm than good in other ways. However honest their directors' intentions, they inevitably favor particular branches of the manufacture. The people running those branches mislead and take advantage of them. This favoritism discourages the rest and inevitably disrupts, to some extent, the balance that would otherwise arise between productive work and profit. For a country's overall industry, that balance is the greatest and most effective encouragement.
ARTICLE II.—On the Cost of Institutions for Educating Young People.
Institutions that educate young people can likewise earn enough revenue to cover their own costs. The fee or payment a student gives a teacher naturally provides revenue of this kind.
Even when a teacher's pay does not come entirely from this natural source, it need not come from society's general revenue, which most countries assign the executive government to collect and spend. Across most of Europe, support for schools and colleges draws nothing from that general revenue, or very little. It comes mainly from local or provincial revenue, rent on landed estates, or interest on sums of money set aside and placed under trustees' management for that specific purpose. Sometimes the ruler provides these funds, and sometimes a private donor does.
Have these public endowments generally helped institutions achieve their purpose? Have they encouraged teachers to work hard and improve their abilities? Have they steered education toward subjects more useful to students and the public than the subjects it would otherwise have followed? It should not be very hard to give at least a likely answer to each question.
In every profession, how hard most people work depends on how much they need to work hard. That need is greatest for people who rely on earnings from their profession for their expected fortune, or even for their regular income and livelihood. To earn that fortune or even make a living, they must perform a certain amount of work of known value each year. Where competition is free, rivals all try to win work from one another. This forces each person to do the work with a certain degree of care. The great rewards available to successful people in certain professions may sometimes inspire a few exceptionally ambitious and energetic people. But great rewards clearly are not necessary to produce the greatest efforts. Competition and the desire to excel can make excellence an ambition even in humble professions, often prompting the very greatest efforts. On the other hand, great rewards alone, without any need to apply oneself, have rarely produced much effort. In England, a successful legal career offers some very great prizes to ambitious people. Yet how few people born to comfortable fortunes have become distinguished in that profession here?
Endowments for schools and colleges have inevitably reduced, to some degree, teachers' need to apply themselves. Insofar as their livelihood comes from salaries, it is paid from a fund entirely independent of their success or reputation as teachers.
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
At some universities, a teacher's salary is only part of their income, often a small part. Most comes from fees paid by students. In this case, the need to work hard is reduced, but it does not disappear. A teacher still cares about their professional reputation and still depends partly on the goodwill, gratitude, and good reports of former students. The best way to earn those feelings is to deserve them: to do every part of the job with skill and care.
At other universities, teachers cannot accept any fee from students. Their salary is all the revenue they get from the job. Their financial interest then conflicts with their duty as directly as possible. Everyone has an interest in living as comfortably as they can. If a teacher receives exactly the same pay whether or not they do some demanding work, then, as people usually understand self-interest, they have reason to skip it altogether. If an authority will not allow that, they have reason to do it as carelessly as the authority permits. Even a naturally energetic teacher who likes work has reason to put that energy into something that brings a benefit, rather than into duties that bring none.
Suppose the authority over a teacher belongs to the college or university corporation of which the teacher is a member. Most of its other members are, or should be, teachers too. They are likely to join forces and go easy on one another. Each will allow a colleague to neglect their duties if allowed to neglect their own. At the university of Oxford, most public professors have for many years stopped even pretending to teach.
Suppose instead that authority belongs mainly to outsiders, such as the bishop of the diocese, the provincial governor, or a minister of state. They probably will not allow a teacher to stop working altogether. But all they can require is attendance on students for a set number of hours, or a set number of lectures each week or year. The quality of those lectures still depends on the teacher's diligence, which in turn depends on the reasons the teacher has for making an effort. Oversight by outsiders can also be ignorant and erratic. It is arbitrary and leaves decisions to their discretion. These officials do not attend the lectures and may not understand the subjects being taught, so they can rarely judge them well. Their official arrogance often makes them careless about how they exercise this power. They may criticize a teacher or remove them from office on a whim and without good cause. This kind of authority lowers a teacher's standing, turning someone who should be among society's most respected members into one of its most despised. Only powerful protectors can shield the teacher from the mistreatment that is always possible. A teacher is more likely to gain their protection by obeying superiors and being ready to sacrifice the corporation's rights, interests, and honor to their wishes than by professional skill or diligence. Anyone who has spent much time watching a French university being run will have seen the natural effects of this arbitrary outside authority.
Anything that sends a fixed number of students to a college or university regardless of its teachers' merit or reputation reduces, to some degree, the need for those teachers to earn merit or a reputation.
Degrees in arts, law, medicine, and theology carry privileges that may require students to spend a fixed number of years at particular universities. That rule sends students there regardless of the teachers' merit or reputation. These degree privileges work like apprenticeship laws. They have improved education about as much as the other apprenticeship laws have improved trades and manufacturing.
Charitable scholarships, grants, bursaries, and similar funds tie a certain number of students to certain colleges, regardless of those colleges' merit. If the students supported by these funds could choose whichever college they preferred, that freedom might encourage some competition among colleges. But a rule forbidding even self-supporting members of a college from leaving for another without first getting permission from the college they wished to leave would do much to eliminate that competition.
Suppose each college assigns a tutor to teach each student every art and science, rather than letting the student choose a tutor. Suppose a student cannot switch tutors without permission even if the assigned tutor is negligent, incapable, or abusive. Such rules would greatly reduce competition among tutors at the same college. They would also reduce every tutor's need to work hard and pay attention to students. Even though students pay these teachers well, the teachers might be just as ready to neglect them as teachers who receive no student fees and rely solely on their salaries.
If a teacher has any sense, it must be unpleasant to know while lecturing that they are speaking or reading nonsense, or something nearly as bad. It must also be unpleasant to see most students leave the lectures, or attend while openly showing inattention, contempt, and ridicule. If required to give a certain number of lectures, a teacher might work to make them reasonably good just to avoid these experiences, even without any other incentive. But there are ways to blunt all these reasons to work hard. Instead of explaining a subject to students, a teacher can read a book about it. If the book is in an old foreign language, the teacher can translate it for them. Easier still, the teacher can make the students translate it and add an occasional comment, while flattering themselves that they are giving a lecture. Very little knowledge or effort is needed to do this without inviting ridicule by saying anything plainly foolish or absurd. At the same time, college discipline can force all students to attend these fake lectures regularly and behave with proper outward respect throughout.
College and university rules are generally designed for the convenience of the teachers, not the benefit of students. They are meant to maintain a teacher's authority and make students behave as though the teacher were diligent and capable, whether or not that teacher does the job. The rules seem to assume perfect wisdom and virtue in teachers and extreme weakness and foolishness in students. Yet I know of no case where most students neglect their work when the teachers really do theirs. Lectures worth attending need no rules to force attendance, as everyone knows wherever such lectures are given. Some force or restraint may be needed to make children and very young boys pay attention to lessons considered necessary at their age. But after twelve or thirteen years of age, force is hardly ever needed for education if the teacher does the job. Most young people are generous. When they see a teacher seriously trying to help them, they tend not to disregard or scorn the teaching. They usually forgive many mistakes in the teacher's work and sometimes even hide serious neglect from the public.
The parts of education that have no public institutions to teach them are generally taught best. A young man who goes to fencing or dancing school does not always learn to fence or dance very well, but he seldom fails to learn how. The benefits of riding school are less obvious. Riding schools cost so much that in most places they are public institutions. The three most important parts of basic literary education—reading, writing, and arithmetic—are still more often learned in private than in public schools. Very few people fail to learn them well enough for their needs.
In England, public schools are much less corrupt than universities. In school, young people learn, or at least can learn, Greek and Latin. That is everything the schoolteachers claim or are expected to teach. At universities, young people neither learn the sciences that those institutions are supposed to teach nor can they always find a suitable way to learn them. A schoolteacher's pay generally depends mainly, and sometimes almost entirely, on student fees. Schools have no exclusive privileges. A person need not produce a certificate of years spent at a public school to receive a degree. If an examination shows that the person knows what is taught there, nobody asks where they learned it.
It might be said that universities do not teach their subjects very well. But without universities, those subjects might not be widely taught at all. Individuals and the public would have suffered considerably from losing these important kinds of education.
Most of today's European universities began as church corporations set up to educate clergy. The pope founded them, and they were so directly under his protection that every teacher and student had what was called the benefit of clergy. They were exempt from the civil courts of the countries where their universities stood and answered only to church courts. Most subjects taught there suited their founding purpose: theology, or subjects that merely prepared students for theology.
When Christianity first became established by law, a changed form of Latin was the common language throughout western Europe. Church services and the Bible translation read in church were therefore in that form of Latin, the language then spoken locally. After foreign peoples invaded and overthrew the Roman empire, Latin gradually ceased to be spoken in any part of Europe. Yet respect for religion naturally preserves its established ceremonies and forms long after the circumstances that first made them sensible have gone. Church services therefore continued entirely in Latin, although most people anywhere could no longer understand it. Europe came to have two languages, much as ancient Egypt had: one for priests and one for everyone else; a sacred language and an everyday one; a learned language and an unlearned one. Priests needed some understanding of the sacred, learned language used in their services. Studying Latin therefore became an essential part of university education from the start.
Greek and Hebrew were different. The church's supposedly infallible decrees declared that the Latin Bible translation, commonly called the Latin Vulgate, was divinely inspired and as authoritative as the Greek and Hebrew originals. Knowledge of Greek and Hebrew was thus not indispensable for clergy, and for a long time these languages were not required in the ordinary university course. I have been told that some Spanish universities have never included Greek in that course. The first reformers found the Greek New Testament and even the Hebrew Old Testament more favorable to their views than the Vulgate. As one might expect, that translation had gradually been adjusted to support Catholic Church doctrines. The reformers therefore began pointing out its many errors. The Roman Catholic clergy then had to defend or explain the translation. They could hardly do so without knowing the original languages. Greek and Hebrew were consequently introduced gradually in most universities, both those that accepted and those that rejected the doctrines of the Reformation. Greek was linked to every part of classical learning. This learning, first cultivated mainly by Catholics and Italians, became fashionable at about the same time as Reformation doctrines emerged. Most universities therefore taught Greek before philosophy, once a student had made some progress in Latin. Hebrew had no link with classical learning, and apart from the Holy Scriptures there was no well-regarded book in it. Its study therefore usually began only after philosophy, when a student started 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
Universities originally taught beginners the basics of both Greek and Latin, and some still do. Others expect students to have learned at least the basics of one or both languages before arriving. Study of these languages still takes up a considerable part of university education everywhere.
Ancient Greek philosophy had three main branches: physics, or the study of nature; ethics, or moral philosophy; and logic. This general division seems to fit the subjects perfectly well.
Major natural events include the movements of heavenly bodies, eclipses, comets, thunder, lightning, and other unusual events in the sky. They also include the birth, life, growth, and death of plants and animals. Such events inevitably fill people with wonder and make them curious about their causes. Superstition first tried to satisfy that curiosity by saying the gods directly caused them all. Philosophy later tried to explain them through causes more familiar to people than the action of gods. These events were the first objects of human curiosity, so the study that claimed to explain them was naturally the first branch of philosophy people pursued. Accordingly, the earliest philosophers recorded in history seem to have studied nature.
People in every age and country must have noticed one another's character, intentions, and actions. They must have agreed on many respected rules for living. Once writing became common, wise people, or those who thought themselves wise, naturally tried to add to these established sayings. They expressed their own views of proper and improper behavior, sometimes through invented stories like Aesop's fables, and sometimes through simpler wise sayings like Solomon's proverbs, the verses of Theognis and Phocyllides, and parts of Hesiod's works. For a long time they may simply have added rules about prudence and morality. They did not necessarily try to put them in a clear, orderly arrangement, much less connect them through general principles from which all the rules followed like effects from causes. Ancient thinkers first glimpsed the beauty of arranging observations systematically under a few shared principles in their rough early attempts to explain nature. They later tried the same thing with morals. They arranged everyday rules in an orderly way and linked them through a few shared principles, just as they had tried to arrange and link natural events. The study that investigates and explains these underlying principles is properly called moral philosophy.
Different writers proposed different systems of natural and moral philosophy. Their supporting arguments were far from always being proofs. Often they were weak possibilities at best, and sometimes merely clever but false arguments resting on imprecise or ambiguous everyday language. Throughout history people have accepted speculative systems for reasons too flimsy to convince a sensible person about even a tiny sum of money. Blatantly misleading arguments have hardly ever influenced people's opinions except in philosophy and speculation, where their influence has often been enormous. Defenders of each philosophical system naturally tried to expose weak arguments for rival systems. Examining the arguments led them to ask how a likely argument differs from a proof, and how a misleading argument differs from a sound one. These inquiries gave rise to logic, the study of general principles of good and bad reasoning. Logic arose after the study of nature and ethics, but it was taught before both subjects in most, though not all, ancient philosophical schools. The idea seems to have been that students should learn to distinguish good reasoning from bad before reasoning about such important topics.
Most European universities replaced this ancient three-part division of philosophy with a five-part one.
Ancient philosophy included teaching about the human mind and God within physics. Whatever these beings were thought to be made of, they were parts of the universe and produced some of its most important effects. What human reason could conclude or guess about them formed two chapters, important ones, within the study that claimed to explain the universe's origins and changes. But European universities taught philosophy only to serve theology. It was therefore natural to spend more time on these two chapters than on the rest. The chapters grew longer and were divided into many smaller ones. Eventually teaching about spirits, of which we can know so little, occupied as much space in philosophy as teaching about physical things, of which we can know so much. The two topics came to count as separate fields. Metaphysics, or pneumatics, was set against physics and treated as the more elevated field and also the more useful one for a particular profession. The study of things we can test and observe, where careful attention can lead to many useful discoveries, was almost entirely ignored. Great effort instead went into a topic where, beyond a few simple and nearly obvious truths, even the closest attention finds only uncertainty and obscurity. It can produce nothing but fine distinctions and misleading arguments.
Once these two fields were opposed to each other, comparing them naturally gave rise to a third: ontology, the study of qualities and attributes common to both their subjects. If fine distinctions and misleading arguments made up most of university metaphysics or pneumatics, they made up all of the flimsy web called ontology, which was sometimes also called metaphysics.
Ancient moral philosophy asked what makes a person happy and fully developed, both as an individual and as a member of a family, a state, and human society at large. It treated life's duties as ways to achieve human happiness and fulfillment. But when moral philosophy, like natural philosophy, was taught only to serve theology, it treated human duties mainly as ways to reach happiness in the next life. Ancient philosophy portrayed complete virtue as necessarily bringing its possessor the greatest possible happiness in this life. Modern philosophy often portrayed virtue as generally, or nearly always, incompatible with happiness in this life. It taught that heaven was earned through penance and self-denial, through a monk's austerity and self-abasement, not through a person's open, generous, spirited conduct. Case-by-case religious rules and a morality of self-denial made up most of the moral philosophy taught in schools. Thus the most important branch of philosophy became its most corrupted one.
This, then, was the usual philosophy curriculum at most European universities. Logic came first and ontology second. Third came pneumatology, teaching about the nature of the human soul and God. Fourth came a debased form of moral philosophy. It was considered closely linked to pneumatology's teachings about the soul's immortality and the rewards and punishments to be expected in the next life from God's justice. The course usually ended with a brief, superficial treatment of physics.
European universities made all these changes to the ancient philosophy curriculum to educate clergy and better prepare them for theology. But the extra hairsplitting, misleading arguments, case-by-case religious rules, and morality of self-denial certainly did not make the curriculum better suited to educating gentlemen or people active in the world. Nor did they make it more likely to sharpen the mind or improve the heart.
Most European universities still teach this philosophy curriculum. How carefully they teach it depends on how strongly each university's structure makes teachers work. At some of the richest and best-funded universities, tutors teach only a few disconnected scraps of this corrupted curriculum. Even those scraps are usually taught carelessly and superficially.
Most modern advances in the different branches of philosophy have not come from universities, though some certainly have. Most universities have not even been quick to adopt advances made elsewhere. Several of these learned institutions have long sheltered discarded systems and outdated prejudices after the rest of the world had rejected them. Generally, the richest and best-funded universities have been slowest to adopt improvements and most opposed to major changes in the established curriculum. Improvements came more easily to some poorer universities, where teachers depended on their reputations for most of their living and had to pay closer attention to prevailing opinions.
Europe's public schools and universities were originally meant only to educate clergy. They were not always diligent even about subjects considered necessary for that profession. Yet they gradually took on the education of almost everyone else, especially gentlemen and wealthy people. Apparently no better way was found to spend usefully the long period between infancy and the time when people seriously begin their life's work. But most of what schools and universities teach does not seem to prepare them very well for that work.
In England it is increasingly common to send young people abroad to travel as soon as they leave school, without attending university. People say they usually return much improved. But a young man who goes abroad at seventeen or eighteen and returns at one-and-twenty is three or four years older. At that age, it is hard not to improve substantially over three or four years. During his travels he generally picks up one or two foreign languages, but rarely well enough to speak or write them properly. In other ways he commonly comes home more conceited, less principled, more given to wasteful pleasures, and less able to apply himself seriously to study or work than he could have become in the same short time at home. Traveling so young, he spends his most valuable years on empty pleasures, away from his parents' and relatives' supervision. As a result, the useful habits his earlier education might have begun to form are almost certain to weaken or disappear instead of growing firm. Only the universities' declining reputation could have made such an absurd practice as traveling at this age popular. By sending a son abroad, a father escapes, for a while at least, the unpleasant sight of an idle, neglected son ruining his life before his eyes.
These are some effects of modern educational institutions.
Other times and countries seem to have had different educational plans and institutions.
In the ancient Greek republics, public officials directed every free citizen's instruction in physical exercises and music. The exercises aimed to strengthen his body, sharpen his courage, and prepare him for the hardships and dangers of war. By all accounts, the Greek citizen army was one of the world's best, so this part of public education must have fully achieved its purpose. According to the philosophers and historians who describe these institutions, music was intended to make the mind more humane, soften people's tempers, and prepare them for their social and moral duties in public and private life.
In ancient Rome, exercises on the Campus Martius served the same purpose as exercises at the ancient Greek Gymnasium, and apparently worked just as well. But Rome had nothing corresponding to Greek musical education. Even so, Roman morals in private and public life seem to have been at least equal, and overall considerably superior, to Greek morals. Polybius and Dionysius of Halicarnassus, who knew both peoples well, explicitly attest to the Romans' superiority in private life. The whole course of Greek and Roman history shows that Roman public morals were superior too. For a free people, the most important public virtues seem to be restraint and a willingness to deal calmly with rival factions. Greek factions were almost always violent and bloody. By contrast, no Roman faction shed blood until the time of the Gracchi, after which the Roman republic may be considered effectively finished. Plato, Aristotle, and Polybius deserve great respect, and Mr Montesquieu offers ingenious reasons for agreeing with them. Still, it seems likely that Greek music education did little to improve morals, since the Romans had better morals overall without it. Reverence for ancestral institutions probably led those ancient sages to see political wisdom in what may simply have been an old custom. It had continued without interruption from their societies' earliest days into their more refined times. Music and dancing are the main amusements of almost all societies called barbarous and are considered the chief skills for entertaining company. This remains true among the negroes on the coast of Africa. It was true among the ancient Celtes and ancient Scandinavians. As Homer shows, it was also true among the ancient Greeks before the Trojan war. Once the Greek tribes formed small republics, it was natural for instruction in those skills to remain part of ordinary public education for a long time.
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
Teachers of young people in music or military exercises do not seem to have been paid or even appointed by the state in Rome or at 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 citizens to find their own instructors. It apparently supplied only a public field or training ground where they could practice.
In the early Greek and Roman republics, the rest of education seems to have meant learning to read, write, and calculate using the arithmetic of the time. Wealthier citizens often learned these skills at home from a household tutor, usually a slave or a freedman. Poorer citizens learned at schools run by teachers who charged for instruction. Parents or guardians had complete responsibility for these parts of education. The state does not appear to have supervised or directed them. Solon's law did, however, relieve children of the duty to support parents who had failed to teach them a useful trade or occupation.
As society became more refined and philosophy and rhetoric became fashionable, better-off people began sending their children to philosophers' and rhetoricians' schools to learn these popular subjects. The public did not fund these schools. For a long time it barely tolerated them. Demand for philosophy and rhetoric remained so small that the first professional teachers of either subject could not find steady work in one city. They had to move from place to place. Zeno of Elea, Protagoras, Gorgias, Hippias, and many others lived this way. As demand grew, philosophy and rhetoric schools settled first in Athens and then in other cities. The state seems to have encouraged them only by sometimes giving them a place to teach. Private donors sometimes did that too. The state apparently gave the Academy to Plato, the Lyceum to Aristotle, and the Portico to Zeno of Citta, founder of the Stoics. Epicurus, however, left his gardens to his own school. Until about the time of Marcus Antoninus, no teacher appears to have received a public salary or any income beyond students' fees. According to Lucian, that emperor, who was himself a philosopher, gave money to a philosophy teacher. The payment probably did not continue beyond the emperor's lifetime. There were no privileges comparable to those attached to graduation. No one had to attend these schools to be allowed to practice any particular trade or profession. If belief in a school's usefulness failed to attract students, the law did not force anyone to attend or reward anyone for attending. Teachers had no legal authority over their students. They had only the natural influence that superior character and ability always give educators over young people.
At Rome, civil law was studied by some families, not by most citizens. Young people who wanted to learn law had no public school to attend. Their only way to study it was to spend time with relatives and friends thought to understand it. It may be worth noting that although many laws of the twelve tables were copied from ancient Greek republics, law does not seem to have developed into a field of study in any of those republics. It became one very early in Rome, bringing considerable distinction to citizens known for understanding it. In ancient Greek republics, especially Athens, ordinary courts were made up of large and therefore disorderly crowds. They often made decisions almost at random, or according to the noise, factional rivalries, and party feeling of the moment. With five hundred, a thousand, or fifteen hundred people sharing responsibility for an unjust verdict, as happened in some of their enormous courts, no individual bore much shame. Rome's main courts, by contrast, had a single judge or a small number of judges. Their reputations could be seriously harmed by reckless or unjust decisions, especially since they always deliberated in public. In uncertain cases they naturally looked to earlier judges' decisions in the same or another court to avoid blame. Attention to past decisions and practice necessarily shaped Roman law into the orderly, systematic form handed down to us. The same attention has had the same effect on law wherever it has occurred. The Romans' stronger character, which Polybius and Dionysius of Halicarnassus noted, probably owed more to their better-organized courts than to any cause those writers suggested. Romans are said to have had a particularly strong respect for oaths. But anyone accustomed to swearing only before an attentive, well-informed court would naturally take an oath more seriously than someone accustomed to swearing before an unruly crowd.
People will readily agree that the Greeks and Romans were at least as capable in civilian and military affairs as any modern people. We may even be inclined to rate them too highly. Yet apart from military training, their states seem to have made no effort to develop those great abilities. I cannot believe Greek music education did much to develop them. Still, teachers were apparently available to teach the better-off people of both societies every art and science their circumstances made necessary or convenient to learn. Demand for teaching produced, as it always does, people able to teach. Competition, when unrestricted, always encourages a desire to excel, and it seems to have developed their teaching ability to a very high level. Ancient philosophers seem to have far surpassed modern teachers in attracting listeners' attention, influencing their views and principles, and shaping their behavior and conversation. Today, conditions that make public teachers more or less independent of their professional success and reputation also weaken their diligence to a greater or lesser degree. Their salaries also put private teachers who try to compete in the position of merchants trading without a subsidy against merchants receiving a large one. If the unsubsidized merchant sells at nearly the same price, they cannot earn the same profit and are sure to face poverty, perhaps even bankruptcy and ruin. If they charge much more, they will probably have so few customers that they will be little better off. In many countries, degree privileges are also necessary, or at least very useful, to most people in learned professions—that is, to most people needing advanced education. But students can obtain these privileges only by attending public teachers' lectures. Even careful attendance on the most capable private teacher does not always give anyone a claim to them. For all these reasons, today's private teachers of subjects commonly taught at universities are generally counted among the lowest ranks of educated people. Someone genuinely able can hardly find a more humiliating or less profitable use for their abilities. Endowments for schools and colleges have thus both weakened the diligence of public teachers and made it almost impossible for good private teachers to thrive.
Without public educational institutions, no system or subject would be taught unless there was demand for it, or the times made it necessary, useful, or at least fashionable to learn. A private teacher could not make a living teaching an outdated and rejected version of an otherwise useful subject. Nor could they make a living teaching a subject that everyone considered a useless, pretentious pile of misleading arguments and nonsense. Such subjects and systems survive only in incorporated educational institutions whose prosperity and revenue largely do not depend on their effort. Without public educational institutions, a gentleman who completed the fullest education available in his time with ability and effort could not enter society wholly ignorant of everything commonly discussed by gentlemen and people active in the world.
There are no public institutions for educating women, so their ordinary education contains nothing useless, absurd, or fanciful. They learn only what parents or guardians think necessary or useful. Each part of their education clearly serves a useful purpose: improving their natural physical attractions, or shaping their minds toward discretion, modesty, chastity, and thrift. This is meant to prepare them to manage a household and conduct themselves properly when they do. Throughout her life, a woman finds some practical benefit in every part of her education. A man rarely gets any practical benefit from some of the most demanding and troublesome parts of his.
Should the public, then, pay no attention to educating the people? Or, if it should, which parts of education should it address for different groups of people, and how should it do so?
In some societies, most people naturally find themselves in circumstances that develop almost every skill and virtue their society needs, or perhaps can accommodate, without any government action. In others, most people do not live in such circumstances. Some government action is then needed to prevent the great majority from becoming almost completely degraded in mind and character.
As the division of labor advances, most wage earners—the great majority of the people—end up doing only a few very simple tasks, often just one or two. Most people's minds are necessarily shaped by their ordinary work. Someone who spends an entire life on a few simple tasks, whose results are nearly always the same, has no need to exercise their mind or invent ways around problems that never arise. Naturally, the person loses the habit of thinking in this way. They generally become as dull and ignorant as a human being can be. Their mental sluggishness leaves them unable to enjoy or take part in a thoughtful conversation. It also leaves them unable to feel generous, noble, or tender emotions and therefore unable to judge fairly even many ordinary duties of private life. They cannot judge the broad interests of their country at all. Unless particular care has been taken to prepare them, they cannot defend it in war either. The sameness of their settled life weakens their courage and makes them dread a soldier's irregular, uncertain, dangerous life. It even weakens their physical energy, leaving them unable to apply strength with vigor and persistence in any work other than their own trade. Their skill at that trade thus seems to come at the cost of their intellectual, social, and military virtues. In every developed and civilized society, this is what must happen to working poor people—the great majority—unless government takes steps to prevent it.
Things are different in societies commonly called barbarous: those of hunters, herders, and even farmers who practice the simple farming that comes before manufacturing develops and foreign commerce expands. People in these societies do many different kinds of work. Each person must use their abilities and devise ways to meet difficulties that constantly arise. They keep their inventiveness alive, and their minds do not sink into the sleepy dullness that seems to numb the understanding of almost everyone in the lower ranks of civilized society. As already noted, everyone in these so-called barbarous societies is a warrior. Everyone is also something of a statesman, able to judge reasonably well the community's interests and its rulers' conduct. Almost everyone can see whether their chiefs make good decisions in peacetime and lead well in war. Admittedly, no one in such a society can easily develop the advanced, refined understanding that a few people sometimes have in a more civilized society. Individuals in a simple society do many different things, but the whole society does not do many kinds of things. Nearly everyone does, or can do, almost everything anyone else does or can do. Everyone has a fair amount of knowledge, ingenuity, and inventiveness, but hardly anyone has a great amount. What they generally have is enough to conduct all the society's simple affairs. In a civilized society, by contrast, most individuals have little variety in their work, but the whole society has a nearly endless range of occupations. These occupations offer a nearly endless range of things to examine for the few people who have no particular occupation of their own and have the free time and interest to examine other people's work. Considering so many different things exercises their minds through endless comparisons and connections. It makes their understanding exceptionally sharp and broad. But unless these few people occupy some very particular positions, their great abilities may do little to improve their society's government or happiness, however much credit the abilities bring them personally. Despite the great abilities of a few, the nobler parts of human character may be largely erased from the great majority of 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
In a civilized society based on commerce, public attention may be more necessary for educating ordinary people than for educating people with some social standing and wealth. People with standing and wealth are usually eighteen or nineteen before they begin the business, profession, or trade through which they hope to make their name. Before then, they have plenty of time to gain the skills and knowledge that earn public respect, or at least prepare to gain them later. Their parents or guardians usually care enough about this to pay the necessary costs. When these young people do not get a proper education, it is rarely because too little was spent. More often the money was spent badly. The problem is rarely a lack of teachers. It is the carelessness and incompetence of the available teachers, and the difficulty—or rather the impossibility, under present conditions—of finding better ones. The work that people with standing or wealth do for most of their lives is also unlike the work of ordinary people: it is rarely simple and repetitive. Nearly all of it is very complex and exercises the mind more than the hands. Their minds are unlikely to become sluggish from lack of use. Their work also rarely wears them out from morning to night. They generally have plenty of free time to build on what they learned, or developed an interest in, when young, whether the knowledge is useful or simply enriching.
Things are different for ordinary people. They have little time for education. Their parents can barely afford to support them even as infants. As soon as they can work, they must take up a trade to support themselves. That trade is usually so simple and repetitive that it gives the mind little exercise. Their work is also so steady and hard that they have little free time, and even less desire to study or think about anything else.
Ordinary people in a civilized society cannot be as well educated as people with some standing and wealth. Still, the most essential skills—reading, writing, and arithmetic—can be learned so young that most people, even those headed for the lowest kinds of work, have time to learn them before starting that work. At very small cost, the public can make it easier for almost everyone to learn these essentials, encourage them to do so, and even require it.
The public can make learning easier by setting up a small school in every parish or district. Children could be taught for a fee low enough for even an ordinary laborer to afford. The public should pay part of the teacher's wages, but not all or even most of them. Otherwise the teacher would soon learn to neglect the job. In Scotland, parish schools of this kind have taught nearly all ordinary people to read, and a very large share to write and do arithmetic. Charity schools in England have had a similar effect, but less widely, because they are less widespread. The reading books in these small schools could teach children more than they usually do. And instead of giving ordinary people's children the little bit of Latin sometimes taught there, which can hardly ever help them, the schools could teach the basics of geometry and mechanics. Their formal education might then be as complete as possible. Almost every ordinary trade offers chances to apply geometry and mechanics. Using these principles in their trades would gradually exercise and improve people's grasp of them. These principles also provide an essential foundation for the most advanced sciences as well as the most useful ones.
The public can encourage people to learn these essentials by giving small prizes and modest marks of distinction to children of ordinary families who do especially well.
The public can require almost everyone to learn these essentials by making each man pass a test or examination before he can gain membership rights in any corporation or be allowed to set up a trade, whether in a village or an incorporated town.
The Greek and Roman republics kept up their citizens' military spirit in this way. They made it easier to learn military and athletic exercises, encouraged people to learn them, and required all citizens to do so. They provided a place to learn and practice the exercises and gave particular teachers the right to teach there. The teachers do not seem to have received salaries or any exclusive privileges. Their entire pay came from their students. A citizen trained in the public gymnasiums had no legal advantage over one trained privately, provided the latter had learned the exercises just as well. The republics encouraged training with small prizes and marks of distinction for those who excelled. Winning a prize at the Olympic, Isthmian, or Nemaean games brought honor not only to the winner but to his whole family and kin. Every citizen had to serve a certain number of years in the republic's armies if called upon. That obligation made it necessary to learn the exercises needed for service.
Modern Europe shows clearly that, as a society develops, military exercises and the military spirit of most people gradually fade unless the government works to preserve them. Yet the security of any society must always depend to some degree on the military spirit of most of its people. Today that spirit by itself, without a well-disciplined standing army, might not be enough to defend and secure a society. But if every citizen had the spirit of a soldier, a smaller standing army would certainly be needed. Such a spirit would also greatly reduce the dangers to liberty, real or imagined, that people commonly fear from a standing army. It would greatly help that army fight a foreign invader, but would also greatly hinder it if, unfortunately, it were ever turned against the state's constitution.
The institutions of ancient Greece and Rome seem to have maintained the military spirit of the public far better than today's so-called militias. They were much simpler. Once established, they worked on their own, with little or no government attention needed to keep them fully effective. By contrast, the complicated rules of a modern militia require constant, painstaking government attention even to work reasonably well. Without it, they continually fall into complete neglect and disuse. Ancient institutions also reached far more people. They trained the whole population in the use of weapons. A modern militia can train only a very small part of it, with the possible exception of Switzerland's. But a coward, someone unable either to defend himself or to avenge an injury, clearly lacks an essential part of a man's character. His mind is as damaged and impaired as the body of someone who has lost essential limbs or the use of them. Of the two he is clearly worse off, because happiness and misery exist entirely in the mind. They depend more on whether the mind is healthy or unhealthy, whole or damaged, than on the condition of the body. Even if the people's military spirit did nothing to defend society, government would still have strong reason to prevent the mental damage and misery involved in cowardice from spreading through the population. It would likewise have strong reason to prevent leprosy, or another repellent disease, from spreading even if the disease were not deadly or dangerous. Preventing this great public harm would justify the attention even if it brought no other public benefit.
The same applies to the deep ignorance and dullness that so often seem to numb the minds of the lower ranks in a civilized society. A man who cannot properly use his human powers of thought is, if anything, more pitiable than a coward. An even more essential part of his human character seems damaged. Even if educating the lower ranks brought the state no benefit, the state should still care that they not be left wholly uneducated. In fact, it gains a considerable benefit. The better educated they are, the less easily they fall for religious fervor and superstition, which often cause terrible unrest among ignorant nations. Educated, intelligent people are also more decent and orderly than ignorant, thoughtless people. Each feels more worthy of respect and more likely to earn the respect of lawful superiors, and so is more willing to respect them. They are more willing and able to see the self-interest behind complaints from factions and agitators. They are therefore less likely to be led into reckless or needless opposition to government measures. In free countries, government safety depends greatly on how favorably people judge its conduct. It is therefore especially important that they not judge it rashly or on a whim.
Article III—The Cost of Institutions for Educating People of All Ages.
Institutions that teach people of all ages are mainly those that provide religious instruction. Its purpose 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 religious doctrine can live entirely on voluntary contributions from their listeners. Or they can be supported by a different source of income granted by law, such as an estate in land, a tithe or land tax, or an established salary or stipend. They are likely to work much harder and more eagerly in the first case than in the second. For this reason, teachers of a new religion have always had a considerable advantage when challenging old, established religions. The clergy of those religions, secure in their paid positions, have neglected to keep faith and devotion alive among the public. They have grown so idle that they can no longer vigorously defend even their own church. The clergy of a wealthy established religion often become learned, polished men with all the virtues that earn gentlemen's respect. But they tend gradually to lose the good and bad traits that gave them authority among the lower ranks, and may originally have helped their religion succeed and become established. When bold, popular enthusiasts attack them—even enthusiasts who may be foolish and ignorant—these clergy are as defenseless as the idle, soft, well-fed nations of southern Asia were against the active, hardy, hungry Tartars from the north. In such a crisis they usually have only one option: ask the civil authorities to persecute, destroy, or drive out their opponents as threats to public peace. Thus the Roman catholic clergy called on civil authorities to persecute protestants, and the church of England called on them to persecute dissenters. More generally, after a religious sect has enjoyed legal establishment for a century or two, it finds itself unable to defend its teachings or practices vigorously against a new sect. The established church may sometimes have the advantage in learning and writing. But its opponents consistently know better how to appeal to people and win converts. In England, the well-paid clergy of the established church have long neglected those skills. They are now practiced mainly by dissenters and methodists. Still, independent incomes provided in many places for dissenting teachers through voluntary subscriptions, trust rights, and other ways around the law seem to have greatly reduced their energy and zeal. Many have become very learned, clever, and respectable men, but they are generally no longer very popular preachers. The methodists, though not half as learned as the dissenters, are much more popular.
In the church of Rome, the lower clergy's work and enthusiasm are kept alive by self-interest more than perhaps in any established protestant church. Many parish clergy get a very substantial part of their living from people's voluntary offerings, which confession gives them many chances to increase. The mendicant orders live entirely on these offerings. Like the hussars and light infantry in some armies, they get no plunder, no pay. Parish clergy are like teachers paid partly by salary and partly by fees or payments from their pupils; these extra payments depend at least partly on their work and reputation. The mendicant orders are like teachers whose livelihood depends entirely on their efforts. They must therefore use every method to stir ordinary people's devotion. Machiavel observes that founding the two great mendicant orders of St Dominic and St. Francis revived the catholic church's fading faith and devotion in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. In Roman catholic countries, monks and poorer parish clergy do all the work of sustaining religious devotion. Senior church officials, with the polish of gentlemen and worldly men, and sometimes the learning of scholars, take care to maintain necessary discipline among their subordinates. But they seldom bother to teach 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 trades and professions in a state,” says by far the most distinguished philosopher and historian of our age, “help society while also benefiting or pleasing particular people. In such cases, except perhaps when a trade is first introduced, the government's usual policy is to leave it alone and let the people who benefit support it. Craftspeople find that pleasing customers raises their profit, so they improve their skills and work as hard as they can. If no one interferes unwisely, the supply of their goods will always closely match demand.
“But some occupations, though useful and even necessary to the state, bring no benefit or pleasure to any individual. The highest authority must treat their workers differently. It must give them public support so they can live, and guard against the neglect to which they will naturally be prone. It can attach special honors to their profession, create a long chain of ranks with strict dependence on superiors, or use some other means. People employed in finance, the navy, and the courts are examples.
“At first sight, one might reasonably think religious teachers belong to the first group. Like lawyers and physicians, they could safely depend on gifts from individuals devoted to their teachings and helped or comforted by their spiritual services. This added incentive would certainly sharpen their effort and watchfulness. As they practiced, studied, and paid attention, they would improve each day both at their profession and at influencing people's minds.
“But on closer examination, every wise lawmaker will want to prevent this self-interested effort by the clergy. In every religion except the true one, it is highly harmful. Even in the true one it naturally tends to corrupt the truth by mixing it heavily with superstition, folly, and deception. To appear more valuable and holy to his followers, each spiritual practitioner will fill them with intense hatred of all other sects. He will constantly try some new idea to stir his audience's fading devotion. The doctrines taught will show no concern for truth, morality, or decency. Every belief that best appeals to people's unruly feelings will be adopted. By skillfully and energetically exploiting ordinary people's emotions and readiness to believe, each congregation will attract customers. In the end, the civil authorities will find that avoiding fixed support for priests has cost them dearly. In fact, the best and most favorable bargain they can make with spiritual guides is to pay them regular salaries to make idleness attractive. Then they need do no more than keep their flocks from wandering off to find new pastors. In this way established churches, though usually founded for religious reasons, eventually benefit society's political interests.”
Whatever the good or bad results of giving clergy an independent income, it has probably rarely been given to them with those results in mind. Periods of fierce religious dispute have usually also been periods of fierce political conflict. At such times each political party has found, or thought it found, an advantage in joining forces with one of the rival religious sects. To do that it had to adopt, or at least favor, that sect's beliefs. The sect allied with the winning party shared in its victory. With its ally's favor and protection, it could soon silence and defeat its opponents to some extent. Those opponents had usually allied with the losing party and were therefore enemies of the winners. The clergy of the victorious sect now controlled the field completely. Their authority among the people was at its strongest, and they were powerful enough to intimidate their own party's leaders and force the civil authorities to respect their views and wishes. Their first demand was generally that the authorities silence and defeat all their opponents. Their second was an independent income for themselves. Because they had often contributed substantially to victory, a share of the spoils seemed reasonable. They were also tired of pleasing people and relying on people's changing preferences for a living. They made this demand for their own comfort, without worrying about what it might eventually do to the authority of the clergy. The civil authorities were rarely eager to grant it, because meeting the demand meant giving away something they would rather take or keep themselves. In the end, however, necessity always forced them to give in, often after much delay, evasion, and excuses made for show.
Suppose politics had never sought religion's help, and the victorious party had not favored one sect's beliefs over another's. It would probably have treated all sects fairly and allowed every man to choose his own priest and religion. Then there would certainly have been a great many religious sects. Nearly every congregation might have formed its own small sect or held some distinctive beliefs. Each teacher would have had to work as hard as possible and use every available method to keep and gain followers. But every other teacher would face the same pressure, so no teacher or group of teachers could gain very great success. The self-interested zeal of religious teachers becomes dangerous and disruptive only when a society tolerates just one sect, or when a large society is divided among two or three big sects whose teachers act together under an organized chain of command. That zeal would be entirely harmless if society were divided into two or three hundred, or perhaps two or three thousand, small sects. None would be large enough to threaten public peace. Surrounded by more opponents than friends, each sect's teachers would have to learn openness and moderation. These qualities are rarely found among the teachers of large sects supported by the government, revered throughout extensive kingdoms and empires, and surrounded by followers and admirers. The teachers of each little sect, finding themselves nearly alone, would have to respect those of almost every other sect. Over time, the concessions they would find both useful and agreeable to make to one another might bring most of their teachings closer to the pure, reasonable religion that wise people throughout history have wanted: free of absurdity, fraud, and fanaticism. Laws have perhaps never established such a religion in any country and probably never will. Religious laws have always been, and probably always will be, influenced to some extent by popular superstition and fervor. The sect called Independents—undoubtedly a group of very wild enthusiasts—proposed this system of church government, or rather the absence of church government, in England near the end of the civil war. Though it arose from ideas that were hardly philosophical, if adopted it would probably have led by now to the most thoughtful tolerance and moderation toward every kind of religious belief. It has been adopted in Pennsylvania. Though quakers are the largest group there, the law does not actually favor them over any other sect, and this tolerant and moderate spirit is said to be the result.
Equal treatment might not produce tolerance and moderation in all, or even most, of a country's sects. But if there were enough sects that each was too small to threaten public peace, extreme zeal for each sect's beliefs could hardly cause much harm and might bring several benefits. And if the government firmly chose to leave every sect alone while requiring them to leave one another alone, there is little danger that they would fail to split into enough smaller groups on their own, and quickly.
Every civilized society with firmly established differences in social rank has two systems of morality at the same time. One may be called strict or severe; the other permissive, or even lax. Ordinary people generally admire and respect the strict system. Fashionable people tend to prefer and follow the permissive one. The main difference seems to be how strongly we should condemn careless vices: those that arise from great prosperity and excessive cheerfulness and high spirits. Under the permissive system, luxury, uncontrolled or even unruly revelry, pleasure pursued to the point of some excess, and sexual unfaithfulness, at least by one of the two sexes, etc., are treated leniently and readily excused or forgiven altogether, provided they involve no gross indecency and lead to no dishonesty or injustice. The strict system, by contrast, regards these excesses with intense disgust and hatred. Careless vices always ruin ordinary people. A single week of reckless spending and pleasure can destroy a poor worker's prospects forever and drive him in despair to commit the gravest crimes. The wiser and better ordinary people therefore hate these excesses, because experience shows how quickly they ruin people in their position. By contrast, years of wasteful and unruly living do not always ruin a fashionable man. People in his position often see the ability to enjoy some excess as a benefit of their wealth, and freedom from criticism for doing so as a privilege of their rank. They thus condemn such excesses very mildly, if at all, among people of their own standing.
Nearly all religious sects have started among ordinary people, who have usually supplied their first and largest numbers of converts. Accordingly, almost all sects have adopted the strict system of morality, though there have been a few exceptions. It was the best way to appeal to the people whose established ways they first proposed to reform. Many sects, perhaps most, have sought approval by making this strict system still stricter, sometimes to a foolish and extreme degree. This excessive severity has often done more than anything else to win ordinary people's respect and admiration.
A wealthy man of rank stands out in a large social circle. Others watch every part of his behavior, making him watch it himself. His standing and influence depend heavily on their respect. He does not dare do anything that would disgrace him in their eyes. He must carefully observe the kind of morality, strict or permissive, that this circle generally requires of people of his rank and wealth. A poor man, by contrast, does not stand out in any large circle. In a country village, people may watch his behavior, making him watch it too. Only there may he have a reputation to lose. Once he enters a large city, he disappears into anonymity. Nobody watches his behavior, and he is therefore very likely to stop watching it himself and fall into every kind of petty vice and dissolute behavior. Nothing brings him out of anonymity so effectively, or puts his behavior under the eyes of a respectable community so fully, as joining a small religious sect. At once he gains standing that he never had before. For the sect's reputation, his fellow members have an interest in watching him. If he causes a scandal or seriously departs from the strict morality they almost always require of one another, they punish him by expulsion or excommunication. That is always a severe punishment even when it brings no further harm. The behavior of ordinary people in small religious sects has therefore almost always been notably disciplined and orderly, generally much more so than in the established church. The morality of these small sects, however, has often been unpleasantly severe and unfriendly.
Two fairly simple and effective remedies, working together, could let the state correct whatever is unfriendly or unpleasantly severe in the morality of the many small sects, without using force.
The first is the study of science and philosophy. The state could make this study almost universal among people of middle or higher rank and wealth. It should not pay teachers salaries that make them careless and idle. Instead, it could require every person to pass some kind of examination, even in the higher and harder sciences, before practicing a learned profession or applying for an honorable office carrying trust or income. If the state required these people to learn, it would not need to find them good teachers. They would soon find better ones for themselves than the state could provide. Science is the great antidote to the poison of religious fervor and superstition. If the upper ranks were protected from it, 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, cheerful public entertainment. The state could encourage those who have an interest in entertaining people through painting, poetry, music, dancing, and all kinds of plays and performances. It need only give them complete freedom to do so, provided their entertainment causes no scandal or indecency. This would easily drive away, among most people, the gloomy mood that almost always feeds popular superstition and religious fervor. Fanatical promoters of those popular frenzies have always feared and hated public entertainment. Its cheerfulness and good humor clash completely with the state of mind they need and can most easily exploit. Plays in particular often expose their methods to public ridicule and sometimes even public outrage. For this reason, fanatics hate plays more than any other entertainment.
Where the law favors no religion's teachers over those of another, none would need to depend directly or particularly on the sovereign or executive government. Nor would the sovereign need any role in appointing or removing them. He would have no need to concern himself with them except to keep peace among them, just as among his other subjects, and to stop them from persecuting, abusing, or oppressing one another. Things are quite different where a religion is established or dominant. There the sovereign cannot be secure unless he can exert considerable influence over most of that religion's teachers.
The clergy of every established church form a large organized body. They can work together for their interests with one plan and one purpose, as though one man directed them; indeed, one man often does. Their interests as a body never match the sovereign's interests and sometimes directly oppose them. Above all, they want to keep their authority over the people. That authority rests on the belief that every part of their teaching is certain and important, and that people must believe all of it without question to escape eternal misery. If the sovereign unwisely seems to mock or doubt even the smallest part of their teaching, or tries out of kindness to protect others who do, clergy independent of him will take offense on a point of honor. They will denounce him as irreligious and use every religious threat to persuade people to give their loyalty to a more orthodox and compliant prince. Opposing any of their claims or attempts to seize power is equally dangerous. Princes who have dared to challenge the church in this way have usually been accused not only of rebellion against it but also of heresy. This happens despite their solemn declarations of faith and humble acceptance of every belief the church requires of them. Religious authority is stronger than every other kind, and the fears it arouses overcome all others. If the authorized teachers of religion spread ideas among the people that undermine the sovereign's authority, he can maintain it only by force or with a standing army. Even a standing army cannot keep him safe for long. Unless its soldiers are foreigners, which can seldom happen, they must be drawn from the people, as they almost always are, and will likely soon be influenced by the same ideas. The Greek clergy's unrest repeatedly caused revolutions at Constantinople for as long as the eastern empire lasted. For several centuries, the Roman clergy's unrest repeatedly caused upheavals across Europe. These examples clearly show how insecure a sovereign must be if he cannot adequately influence the clergy of his country's established and dominant religion.
Questions of faith and other spiritual matters plainly do not belong to the proper work of a secular sovereign. He may be well qualified to protect the people, but is rarely thought qualified to instruct them in religion. His authority on such matters can therefore rarely balance the combined authority of the established church's clergy. Yet the doctrines they choose to spread can often affect public peace and his own security. Because he rarely has enough authority to oppose their decisions directly, he must be able to influence them. He can do that only through the fears and hopes he can raise among most individual clergy. They may fear losing their positions or facing other punishment, or hope for further promotion.
In every Christian church, clergy hold their paid positions much like property. They keep them for life or as long as they behave well, not merely while someone in power is pleased with them. If the positions were less secure, and the sovereign or his ministers could dismiss clergy for every slight offense, the clergy might be unable to keep their authority over the people. People would view them as paid servants of the court and could no longer trust the sincerity of their teaching. But if the sovereign tried to use unlawful force to strip a number of clergy of their positions—perhaps because they had spread divisive or rebellious ideas with unusual energy—persecution would make both the clergy and their ideas ten times more popular, and therefore ten times more troublesome and dangerous. Fear is a poor tool of government in almost every case. In particular, it should never be used against a group with the slightest claim to independence. Trying to frighten them only makes them angrier and strengthens an opposition that gentler treatment might have softened or ended. The French government usually tried force to make all its parliaments, or highest courts of justice, register unpopular decrees. This seldom worked, though imprisoning all the members who resisted might seem forceful enough. The princes of the house of Stuart sometimes used similar methods to influence members of the parliament of England. They generally found them just as resistant. The parliament of England is now handled differently. A small experiment the duke of Choiseul carried out on the parliament of Paris about twelve years ago showed clearly that the parliaments of France could have been handled still more easily in the same way. The experiment went no further. Persuasion and skillful management are always the easiest and safest ways to govern, while force and violence are the worst and most dangerous. Yet people are naturally so arrogant that they usually scorn the better method unless they cannot or dare not use the worse one. The French government could and dared to use force, so it refused to use persuasion and skillful management. But the experience of every age seems to show that force and violence are especially dangerous, even ruinous, when used against the respected clergy of an established church. Even under the most absolute governments, a church official who is on good terms with his fellow clergy has rights, privileges, and personal freedom more secure than those of anyone else with nearly equal rank and wealth. This is true at every level of absolute rule, from the mild government of Paris to the harsh government of Constantinople. Although clergy can hardly ever be forced, they can be influenced as easily as anyone else. The sovereign's security and public peace seem to depend greatly on his ability to influence them, and that ability seems to rest entirely on the promotions he can offer them.
Under the early organization of the Christian church, the bishop of each diocese was elected by the combined votes of the clergy and people of the city where he would serve. The people did not keep this voting right long. While they had it, they almost always followed the clergy's lead, seeing them as natural guides on spiritual matters. The clergy soon tired of the work of influencing the people and found it easier to elect bishops themselves. Similarly, the monastery's monks elected the abbot, at least in most abbeys. The bishop filled all lower paid church positions in his diocese, giving them to clergy of his choosing. In this way the church controlled every church promotion. The sovereign might indirectly influence the elections, and people sometimes asked both his permission to hold one and his approval of the result. Still, he had no direct or adequate way to influence the clergy. Each clergyman's ambition naturally led him to seek favor with other clergy, the only people who could promote him, rather than with the sovereign.
Across most of Europe, the pope gradually took control first of appointments to nearly all bishoprics and abbeys, known as consistorial benefices. Later, through various maneuvers and pretexts, he took control of most of the lower paid positions within each diocese. Bishops kept little more than the appointments strictly necessary to give them a respectable degree of authority over their own clergy. This arrangement left the sovereign in an even worse position. The clergy of Europe's different countries now formed a kind of religious army, spread out in different places but directed by one leader according to one plan. Each country's clergy could be seen as one unit of that army, whose actions could easily be supported by the other units in nearby countries. Each unit was not only independent of the sovereign of the country that housed and supported it. It answered to a foreign sovereign who could at any time turn it against that country's sovereign and back it with all the other units.
The weapons of this army were immensely powerful. In old Europe, before arts and manufactures developed, the clergy's wealth gave them the same kind of influence over ordinary people that great barons' wealth gave them over their dependents, tenants, and followers. The church held large landed estates given by princes and private people out of misguided piety. Courts and governing powers were set up on these lands for the same reasons as on the great barons' lands. On their large estates the clergy or their agents could easily keep the peace without help from the king or anyone else. Neither the king nor anyone else could keep peace there without the clergy's help. So on the clergy's estates and manors, their courts were as independent of the king's courts, and as completely excluded the king's authority, as the courts of great secular lords. Like the great barons' tenants, nearly all the clergy's tenants held their land at their lords' will. They depended completely on their immediate lords and could therefore be called up whenever the clergy wanted them to fight. Beyond rent from their own estates, the clergy received through tithes a very large share of rent from all the other estates in every European kingdom. Most of both forms of revenue came as goods—grain, wine, cattle, poultry, etc. There was far more than the clergy could consume themselves, and there were no arts or manufactured goods they could exchange the surplus for. They could benefit from this huge surplus only by using it as the great barons used theirs: to offer lavish hospitality and extensive charity. The clergy of old are accordingly said to have been very hospitable and charitable. They supported nearly all the poor in every kingdom. Many knights and gentlemen also had no other way to live than by traveling from monastery to monastery. They claimed to be traveling out of religious devotion, but really went to enjoy the clergy's hospitality. Some individual senior clergy had as many followers as the greatest secular lords. Taken together, all the clergy may have had more followers than all the secular lords combined. The clergy were also far more united than the secular lords. They followed an organized chain of command under the pope. The secular lords had no such organization and were nearly always as suspicious of one another as they were of the king. Even if the clergy had fewer tenants and followers combined than the great secular lords—and they probably had far fewer tenants—their unity would have made them more powerful. Their hospitality and charity did more than put a large worldly force at their command: they made their spiritual weapons much stronger too. These good deeds earned them the deepest respect of the lower ranks, many of whom they fed regularly and nearly all of whom they fed at times. Ordinary people therefore saw everything connected to such a popular group—its property, privileges, and teachings—as sacred. Any real or supposed violation seemed an extreme act of irreligious wickedness. If the sovereign often struggled against an alliance of just a few great nobles in these conditions, it is no surprise that he struggled even more against his own country's united clergy backed by the clergy of every neighboring country. The wonder is not that he sometimes had to give in, but that he ever managed to resist.
Book V, Chapter I, 17
18th-century English
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 clergy's privileges in those days seem absurd to us today. Their complete exemption from the ordinary courts, for example, was called the benefit of clergy in England. But it followed naturally, or rather necessarily, from the situation then. How could a sovereign safely punish a clergyman for any crime if the rest of the clergy wanted to protect him? They could say the evidence was not enough to convict such a holy man, or that the punishment was too harsh for a person made sacred by religion. In those circumstances, the sovereign's best option was to let church courts try him. Those courts had an interest in protecting their order's reputation. They would therefore try to stop its members from committing terrible crimes, or even causing scandals serious enough to turn people against the clergy.
Across most of Europe in the tenth, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, and for some time before and after, the structure of the church of Rome was perhaps the most powerful organization ever formed against the authority and security of civil government. It also threatened human liberty, reason, and happiness, which can flourish only when civil government protects them. Within that structure, the private interests of a great many people supported the grossest superstitious delusions. This put those delusions beyond the reach of human reason. Reason might have shown even ordinary people that some superstitious beliefs were false. But it could never have broken the bonds of private interest. If the church had faced only the weak efforts of reason, its structure would have lasted forever. Instead, the natural course of events first weakened this huge, carefully built structure and then partly destroyed it. Human wisdom and virtue could never have shaken it, much less brought it down. Yet in another few centuries, it may fall completely into ruins.
Gradual advances in the arts, manufacturing, and commerce destroyed the clergy's worldly power throughout most of Europe, just as they destroyed the great barons' power. Like the barons, the clergy found goods they could buy with their crude produce. They could then spend all their revenue on themselves instead of sharing a substantial amount with other people. Their charity gradually reached fewer people, and their hospitality became less generous or lavish. They kept fewer dependents, until they eventually kept none. Like the great barons, the clergy also wanted more rent from their landed estates so they could spend it on their own vanity and foolishness. But they could get higher rent only by granting leases to their tenants. Those leases made the tenants largely independent of them. In this way, the bonds of self-interest tying people of lower rank to the clergy gradually dissolved. They dissolved even sooner than the bonds tying those people to the barons. Most church benefices were much smaller than the barons' estates, so someone holding a benefice could sooner afford to spend its entire revenue on himself. Throughout most of Europe, the great barons remained powerful during much of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. But the clergy's worldly power, including their former absolute command over the mass of the people, had greatly declined. By then the church's power in most of Europe came almost entirely from its spiritual authority. Even that authority weakened when the clergy no longer backed it up with charity and hospitality. Lower-ranking people no longer saw the clergy as those who comforted them in distress and relieved their poverty. Instead, they were angered and disgusted by wealthy clergymen's vanity, luxury, and spending on their own pleasures. They believed that money had previously belonged to the poor.
In this situation, sovereigns across Europe tried to regain their former influence over the award of major church benefices. They arranged for the deans and chapters in each diocese to regain their old right to elect the bishop, and for the monks in each abbey to regain their right to elect the abbot. Several laws passed in England during the fourteenth century aimed to restore this old arrangement, especially the statute of provisors. France's pragmatic sanction, established in the fifteenth century, had the same aim. For an election to be valid, the sovereign had to consent beforehand and approve the person elected afterward. Although the election was supposed to be free, the sovereign had every indirect means of influencing the clergy within his territory that his position gave him. Other parts of Europe adopted similar rules. Before the reformation, however, nowhere else seems to have limited the pope's power to award major church benefices as effectively and extensively as France and England did. Later, in the sixteenth century, the concordat gave the kings of France the absolute right to nominate candidates for all major benefices of the Gallican church, known as consistorial benefices.
Since the pragmatic sanction and the concordat were established, the French clergy have generally shown less respect for papal court decrees than clergy in any other Catholic country. They have almost always sided with their sovereign in his disputes with the pope. Their independence from the court of Rome seems to rest mainly on the pragmatic sanction and the concordat. Early in the monarchy, French clergy appear to have been as devoted to the pope as clergy elsewhere. When the Roman court excommunicated Robert, the second ruler of the Capetian line, very unjustly, even his own servants reportedly threw food from his table to the dogs. They refused to eat anything touched by someone in his position. We can safely assume that clergy in his own lands taught them to behave this way.
The Roman court had often shaken, and sometimes overthrown, the thrones of some of Christendom's greatest sovereigns to defend its claim to award major church benefices. Yet even before the reformation, that claim had been restricted, changed, or abandoned altogether in various parts of Europe. As the clergy gained less influence over the people, the state gained more influence over the clergy. The clergy therefore had less power and less desire to disturb the state.
The authority of the church of Rome was already declining when the disputes that led to the reformation began in Germany and soon spread throughout Europe. The new doctrines were popular nearly everywhere. Their supporters spread them with the passionate zeal that often drives a party attacking established authority. Their teachers may not have been more learned in other respects than many theologians defending the established church. But they generally knew more about church history and about the origins and development of the system of beliefs supporting the church's authority. This gave them an advantage in almost every debate. Their strict way of life gave them authority among ordinary people, who compared their disciplined conduct with the disorderly lives of much of their own clergy. The new teachers were also far better than their opponents at winning public support and converts. The church's proud, high-ranking clergy had long neglected these skills because they had little use for them. Some people favored the new doctrines because they seemed reasonable, and many because they were new. Still more were drawn by their hatred and contempt for the established clergy. But by far the greatest number were won over by the passionate, zealous, sometimes fanatical preaching of the doctrines, even though the preaching was often crude and unsophisticated.
The new doctrines succeeded almost everywhere so well that rulers then at odds with the court of Rome could easily use them to overturn the church in their territories. Having lost the respect of people of lower rank, the church could offer hardly any resistance. The Roman court had offended some lesser princes in northern Germany, probably thinking they were too insignificant to bother winning over. All of them established the reformation in their territories. The tyranny of Christiern II. and Troll, archbishop of Upsal, allowed Gustavus Vasa to drive both from Sweden. The pope supported the tyrant and the archbishop, so Gustavus Vasa had no trouble establishing the reformation there. Christiern II. was later removed from Denmark's throne. His behavior had made him as hated there as in Sweden. The pope still wanted to support him, however. Frederic of Holstein, who took his place, retaliated by following Gustavus Vasa's example. The magistrates of Berne and Zurich had no particular dispute with the pope, but they easily established the reformation in their respective cantons. Shortly before, some clergy there had used a particularly blatant deception that made the whole clergy hated and despised.
At this critical time, the papal court worked hard to keep the friendship of the powerful rulers of France and Spain. The ruler of Spain was then also emperor of Germany. With their help, the papal court managed, though with great difficulty and much bloodshed, either to stop the reformation entirely or greatly slow its progress in their territories. It was also quite willing to accommodate the king of England. But circumstances prevented it from doing so without offending an even more powerful ruler, Charles V., king of Spain and emperor of Germany. Henry VIII. did not himself adopt most of the reformation's doctrines. Still, their widespread popularity enabled him to close every monastery and end the Roman church's authority in his territories. That he went this far, even if no further, pleased some supporters of the reformation. They gained control of the government under his son and successor and easily completed the work Henry VIII. had begun.
In some countries, such as Scotland, the government was weak, unpopular, and insecure. There the reformation was strong enough to overturn not just the church but also the state when the state tried to support the church.
The reformation's followers were scattered across Europe. They had no common tribunal, like the Roman court or a council of the whole church, that could settle all their disputes and set binding, exact limits on what they must believe. When followers in one country disagreed with those in another, they had no shared judge to appeal to. So their disputes could not be settled, and many arose. Disputes over church government and the right to award church benefices were perhaps the most important for civil peace and welfare. They gave rise to the two principal groups among the reformation's followers: the Lutheran and Calvinistic sects. These are the only such sects whose teachings and rules have yet been established by law anywhere in Europe.
Luther's followers, along with the church of England, kept some degree of government by bishops and a hierarchy among clergy. They gave the sovereign control over all bishoprics and other consistorial benefices in his territory, making him the real head of the church. They left bishops the right to appoint clergy to smaller benefices in their dioceses. But even for those benefices, they allowed and encouraged the sovereign and other patrons who were not clergy to nominate candidates. From the start, this system of church government favored peace, good order, and obedience to the civil sovereign. Once established, it has never caused a riot or civil disturbance in any country. The church of England in particular has always taken pride, with good reason, in its principles of unquestionable loyalty. Under such a system, clergymen naturally try to win favor with the sovereign, the court, and the country's nobles and gentry, whose influence they chiefly depend on for promotion. Sometimes they court these patrons through the worst flattery and agreement with whatever they say. Often, though, they develop qualities worthy of the esteem of wealthy, high-ranking people, and thus likely to win it. These include knowledge of useful and cultural subjects, decently open and generous manners, pleasant conversation, and an openly expressed contempt for the absurd, hypocritical strictness that fanatics urge and pretend to practice. The fanatics use that pretense to win popular reverence for themselves and turn ordinary people against most wealthy and high-ranking people, who openly say they do not follow such rules. But clergy who court the upper ranks in this way often neglect every means of keeping their influence and authority among the lower ranks. Their superiors listen to, esteem, and respect them. Yet before their social inferiors, they often cannot defend their own sensible and moderate teachings effectively enough to persuade their listeners against even the most ignorant enthusiast who challenges them.
Book V, Chapter I, 18
18th-century English
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 accurately those of Calvin, took a different approach. When a church position became vacant, they gave the people of its parish the right to choose their own pastor. They also established complete equality among clergymen. The first measure, while it lasted, seems to have caused only disorder and confusion and to have tended to corrupt both clergy and people's morals. The second seems to have had only good effects.
As long as parishioners had the right to choose their pastors, they nearly always followed the clergy's influence, especially that of the most divisive and fanatical clergymen. To keep their influence over these popular elections, many clergymen either became fanatics themselves or acted like them. They encouraged fanaticism among the people and almost always preferred the most fanatical candidate. Even something as small as choosing a parish priest almost always caused a bitter fight. It involved not only the parish itself but also neighboring parishes, which rarely failed to take sides. If the parish was in a large city, the contest split all its inhabitants into two parties. If that city was itself a small republic, or the capital of one, the danger grew. This was true of many major cities in Switzerland and Holland. Every petty dispute of this sort inflamed the hostility of all the other factions. It also threatened to leave a new split in the church and a new faction in the state. Magistrates in those small republics therefore soon found they needed to take over the right to nominate people for all vacant benefices to keep the peace. Scotland is the largest country ever to establish this presbyterian system of church government. An act establishing presbytery early in William III.'s reign effectively abolished the rights of patrons there. At least it allowed certain groups in each parish to buy the right to elect their own pastor for a very small price. The arrangement established by this act lasted about twenty-two years. But the 10th of queen Anne, ch.12 abolished it because this more democratic election system had caused disorder and confusion almost everywhere. A disturbance in a remote Scottish parish, however, was less likely to disrupt the government of a country as large as Scotland than the government of a smaller state. The 10th of queen Anne restored patrons' rights. Scottish law gives a benefice without exception to the person the patron nominates. But the church sometimes requires some agreement from the people before giving that person the cure of souls, meaning church authority over the parish. The church has not always made consistent decisions on this point. Sometimes, at least, it delays the appointment until it can obtain that agreement, claiming to be concerned for the parish's peace. Some neighboring clergymen privately interfere to get that agreement, but more often to prevent it. They also cultivate ways of winning popular support that help them interfere more effectively. These practices are perhaps the main reason any of the old fanatical spirit survives among Scotland's clergy or people.
Under presbyterian church government, equality among the clergy means, first, equal authority or church jurisdiction and, second, equal benefices. Authority is perfectly equal in all presbyterian churches, but benefices are not. Even so, the difference between benefices is seldom large enough to tempt a clergyman with a small one to seek a better one by flattering his patron and agreeing with everything he says. Wherever patrons' rights are firmly established in presbyterian churches, clergy generally try to win their superiors' favor in better ways: through learning, an irreproachably disciplined life, and faithful, diligent work. Patrons often complain that these clergymen are too independent. They see this as ingratitude for earlier favors. But at worst it may usually be no more than the indifference of people who know they cannot expect further favors of the same kind. Perhaps nowhere in Europe is there a more learned, decent, independent, and respectable body of men than most presbyterian clergymen in Holland, Geneva, Switzerland, and Scotland.
When all church benefices are roughly equal, none can be very large. Moderately sized benefices can, of course, be made too small. But they also have some very good effects. Only exemplary conduct can give dignity to someone of modest means. Frivolity and vanity necessarily make him look ridiculous. They are also nearly as financially ruinous for him as for ordinary people. He must therefore live by the moral standards ordinary people most respect. The way of life his own interests and circumstances lead him to follow also wins their esteem and affection. Ordinary people look kindly on someone whose condition is somewhat like theirs, though they think he deserves a higher one. Their kindness naturally encourages his kindness. He takes care to teach them and pays attention to helping and relieving them. Nor does he scorn the prejudices of people so well disposed toward him. He never treats them with the contempt and arrogance so often found among the proud leaders of rich, well-funded churches. Presbyterians' clergy therefore have perhaps more influence over ordinary people's minds than the clergy of any other established church. Accordingly, only in presbyterian countries do we find virtually every ordinary person converted completely to the established church without persecution.
Where most church benefices offer only a modest living, a university professorship generally offers a better one. Universities can then select their staff from all the country's clergymen, who form by far the largest group of scholars in every country. When many church benefices are very lucrative, by contrast, the church naturally takes most leading scholars away from universities. They generally find a patron who gains honor by securing a church appointment for them. In the first situation, the universities are likely to employ the country's leading scholars. In the second, they are likely to have few distinguished scholars. The few they do have will be among the youngest staff members, who are likely to be drawn away before they gain enough experience and knowledge to be very useful to their university. Mr de Voltaire observed that father Porée, a jesuit of no great standing among scholars, was the only professor France had ever had whose writings were worth reading. It seems strange that a country producing so many distinguished scholars should have had hardly any among its university professors. The famous Cassendi taught at the university of Aix early in his life. At the first signs of his talent, someone told him that entering the church would easily give him a more peaceful and comfortable living and a better opportunity to study. He followed the advice immediately. I believe Mr de Voltaire's observation applies not only to France but to every other Roman Catholic country. We very rarely find a distinguished scholar teaching at a university in any of them, except perhaps in law and medicine. The church is less likely to draw teachers away from those professions. After the church of Rome, the church of England is by far Christendom's richest and best-funded church. In England, therefore, the church continually takes universities' best and most capable members. A longtime college tutor renowned in Europe as a distinguished scholar is as rare there as in any Roman Catholic country. By contrast, in Geneva, the protestant cantons of Switzerland, the protestant regions of Germany, Holland, Scotland, Sweden, and Denmark, most of the distinguished scholars those countries have produced have taught at universities, though not all of them. In those countries, universities continually draw the church's most distinguished scholars into teaching.
It may be worth noting that, apart from poets, a few orators, and a few historians, most of the other distinguished scholars of Greece and Rome seem to have been public or private teachers. They usually taught philosophy or rhetoric. This holds from the time of Lysias and Isocrates, and Plato and Aristotle, down to Plutarch and Epictetus, Suetonius, and Quintilian. Requiring someone to teach a particular subject year after year seems to be the most effective way for him to master it thoroughly. He must cover the same material every year. If he has any ability, he will become well acquainted with every part of it within a few years. If he forms a hasty opinion on a point one year, he is likely to correct it when his lectures bring him back to the subject the next year. Teaching a subject is certainly a scholar's natural occupation. It may also be the training most likely to give him sound learning and knowledge. When church benefices provide only moderate incomes, most of a country's scholars are naturally drawn to the work in which they can be most useful to the public. They may also receive the best education available to them. This makes their learning as sound and useful as possible.
We should note that most of an established church's revenue is a part of the state's general revenue redirected away from a very different purpose: defending the state. An exception is the revenue from particular lands or manors. The tithe, for instance, is really a land tax. It prevents landowners from contributing as much to the state's defense as they otherwise could. Some say land rent is the only fund that can ultimately meet the needs of the state in all great monarchies; others say it is the main fund. Clearly, the more of that fund the church receives, the less remains for the state. We can take this as a firm rule, assuming other things are equal: the richer the church, the poorer either the sovereign or the people must be, and the less able the state is to defend itself in any case. In several protestant countries, especially every protestant canton of Switzerland, the former revenue of the Roman Catholic church—tithes and church lands—has been enough not only to pay the established clergy adequate salaries but also to cover nearly all other state expenses with little or no additional money. In particular, the magistrates of the powerful canton of Berne have saved a very large sum from this fund, thought to be several millions. Some is kept in the public treasury; some is invested at interest in the public funds of various indebted European nations, chiefly France and Great Britain. I do not claim to know the total cost to the state of the church in Berne or any other protestant canton. A very precise account shows that in 1755, the Scottish church clergy's entire revenue, including their glebe or church lands and a reasonable estimated rent for their manses or homes, was only £68,514:1:5 ¹⁄₁₂d. This modest sum supports nine hundred and forty-four ministers decently. Total church expenses, including occasional spending on building and repairing churches and ministers' manses, can hardly be more than eighty or eighty-five thousand pounds a year. Even Christendom's richest church does no better than Scotland's very poorly funded church at maintaining a shared faith, strong devotion, order, disciplined conduct, and strict morals among the great mass of people. It produces every good civil and religious effect that an established church can be expected to produce, just as fully as any other church does. Most protestant churches in Switzerland, which are generally no better funded than the Scottish church, produce these effects even more strongly. In most protestant cantons, everyone professes to belong to the established church. If someone declares membership in another church, the law requires that person to leave the canton. Yet such a harsh, indeed oppressive, law could never have been enforced in such free countries if diligent clergymen had not already converted almost everyone to the established church, perhaps leaving only a few exceptions. In some parts of Switzerland, a protestant region and a Roman Catholic region were united by chance, so conversion was less complete. Both religions are therefore not only tolerated there 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
For people to do any job properly, their pay should match the nature of the work as closely as possible. When pay is far too low, the work tends to suffer because most of those doing it lack ability and standing. When pay is far too high, the work may suffer even more because people become careless and idle. Whatever his profession, a man with a large revenue thinks he should live like others with large revenues. He spends much of his time at parties, showing off, and pursuing diversions. For a clergyman, this way of life does more than take up time he should spend on his duties. In ordinary people's eyes, it almost completely destroys the reputation for holiness that alone allows him to perform those duties with proper influence and authority.
PART IV. The Cost of Upholding the Sovereign's Dignity.
Besides the expenses needed for a sovereign to carry out his various duties, some spending is necessary to uphold his dignity. The amount varies with a society's level of development and its form of government.
In a wealthy, developed society, every social group spends more each day on houses, furniture, food, clothing, and transportation. We can hardly expect the sovereign alone to resist this fashion. He naturally, or rather necessarily, spends more on all those things as well. His position even seems to demand it.
A monarch stands higher above his subjects than the chief official of any republic is thought to stand above his fellow citizens. Maintaining that higher status therefore costs more. We naturally expect more splendor at a king's court than at the home of a doge or burgo-master.
CONCLUSION.
The costs of defending society and upholding the chief official's dignity are both incurred for the benefit of society as a whole. It is therefore reasonable to pay for them through contributions from everyone, with each person contributing as nearly as possible according to their means.
The cost of administering justice can also be regarded as benefiting all of society. So there is nothing wrong with paying for it through contributions from everyone. But the people who cause this cost are those whose unjust acts make it necessary to ask courts for protection or a remedy. And those who benefit most directly are the people whose rights the courts restore or uphold. Depending on the circumstances, it is therefore quite proper to charge one or both of these groups for administering justice through court fees. Society as a whole need contribute only when it is necessary to convict criminals who have no property or other funds sufficient to pay those fees.
Local or provincial expenses that bring local or provincial benefits, such as spending on policing a particular town or district, should be paid from local or provincial revenue. They should not burden society's general revenue. It is unfair to make everyone pay for something that benefits only part of society.
Maintaining good roads and transport routes certainly benefits all of society, so it would not be unfair to pay for it through everyone's contributions. Yet the most direct beneficiaries are people who travel or move goods between places, and people who consume those goods. England's turnpike tolls and the charges called peages in other countries put the entire cost on those two groups. This removes a substantial burden from society's general revenue.
Institutions for education and religious instruction also benefit the whole of society. It would therefore be fair to pay for them through everyone's contributions. But it might be equally fair, and even somewhat advantageous, for the entire cost to be paid by the people who directly receive that education and instruction, or through voluntary contributions from people who believe they need either one.
Some institutions or public works benefit all of society but cannot, or do not, get their full funding from the members who benefit most directly. In most cases, everyone must contribute to cover the shortfall. Society's general revenue must pay not only for its defense and the chief official's dignity but also for shortfalls in many particular sources of revenue. In the next chapter, I will 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 Society’s General or Public Revenue
The government needs revenue to pay for defending society, supporting the chief magistrate’s position, and meeting all its other necessary expenses for which the state’s constitution provides no separate revenue. This revenue can come from two places. First, it can come from a fund belonging specifically to the sovereign or commonwealth, independent of the people’s revenue. Second, it can come from the people’s revenue.
Part I. Funds or Sources of Revenue Belonging Specifically to the Sovereign or Commonwealth
The funds that belong specifically to the sovereign or commonwealth must be either stock or land.
Like anyone else who owns stock, a sovereign can earn revenue from it by using it himself or by lending it out. In the first case the revenue is profit; in the second it is interest.
A Tartar or Arabian chief gets his revenue from profit. It comes mainly from the milk and increase of his own herds and flocks. He oversees them himself and is the main shepherd or herdsman of his own horde or tribe. Only in this earliest and least developed form of civil government, however, has profit ever supplied most of the public revenue of a monarchy.
Small republics have sometimes earned substantial revenue from profits on commercial ventures. The republic of Hamburgh is said to earn revenue 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 how to reform France’s finances. Its account of French taxes fills three quarto volumes and can be regarded as entirely reliable. Its account of other European nations’ taxes was compiled from information that French ministers at the various courts could obtain. It is much shorter and probably less exact than the account of French taxes.] A state cannot be very large if its sovereign has time to operate as a wine merchant or apothecary. Public banks have provided revenue to larger states: not just Hamburgh, but Venice and Amsterdam as well. Some people have even thought this kind of revenue worthy of an empire as large as Great Britain. Suppose the bank of England pays its usual dividend of five and a-half per cent. on capital of ten millions seven hundred and eighty thousand pounds. After management expenses, its net yearly profit must, they say, be five hundred and ninety-two thousand nine hundred pounds. They claim the government could borrow that capital at three per cent. interest. By managing the bank itself, it could then make a clear profit of two hundred and sixty-nine thousand five hundred pounds a year. Experience shows that aristocracies such as Venice and Amsterdam, with their orderly, watchful, and thrifty administrations, are well suited to managing this kind of commercial venture. But England’s government is another matter. Whatever its virtues, it has never been known for economy. In peacetime it has generally spent with the lazy carelessness perhaps natural to monarchies. In wartime it has consistently shown all the unthinking extravagance that democracies can fall into. Whether it could safely be trusted to manage such a venture is therefore much more doubtful.
The post office is really a commercial venture. The government pays to establish its offices and to buy or hire the necessary horses and carriages. Charges on the items carried repay those costs with a large profit. It may be the only commercial venture successfully managed, I believe, by every kind of government. The capital required is not very large. The business is straightforward, and its returns are both certain and immediate.
Princes have often gone into other commercial ventures. Like private individuals, they have hoped to improve their fortunes by investing in ordinary lines of trade. They have hardly ever succeeded. The lavish way princes’ affairs are always managed makes success almost impossible. A prince’s agents think their master’s wealth cannot run out. They pay little attention to the price at which they buy or sell, or to the cost of moving his goods. The agents often live as lavishly as princes themselves. Sometimes, despite that spending, they also acquire princely fortunes by the way they draw up their accounts. According to Machiavel, the agents of Lorenzo of Medicis—no incapable prince—ran his trade this way. The republic of Florence had to pay the debts their extravagance caused him on several occasions. He therefore found it best to give up trading, the business to which his family had originally owed its fortune. Late in life he used both the rest of that fortune and the state revenue under his control for projects and expenses more suitable to his position.
The roles of trader and sovereign could hardly be more at odds. If the English East India company’s trading outlook makes it a very bad sovereign, its outlook as a sovereign seems to have made it just as bad a trader. When its members were only traders, they managed their trade successfully and could pay a modest dividend to the owners of its stock from their profits. Since becoming sovereigns, they have reportedly had revenue that originally exceeded three millions sterling. Yet they have had to ask the government for its usual assistance to avoid immediate bankruptcy. Previously their servants in India thought of themselves as merchants’ clerks. Now they think of themselves as sovereigns’ ministers.
A state may get some public revenue from interest on money as well as profit on stock. If it has built up a treasury, it can lend part of it either to foreign states or to its own subjects.
The canton of Berne earns considerable revenue by lending part of its treasury to foreign states. It invests in the public funds of indebted European nations, mainly France and England. The security of this income depends first on the security of those funds, or the honesty of the governments that manage them. It depends second on whether peace with the debtor nation will continue. In a war, that nation’s very first hostile act might be to confiscate the funds it owes its creditor. As far as I know, Berne alone follows this policy of lending to foreign states.
The city of Hamburgh [See Memoire concernant les Droites et Impositions en Europe tome i p. 73.] has established a kind of public pawnshop. It lends to its subjects against pledged goods at six per cent. interest. This pawnshop, called a lombard, supposedly earns the state a hundred and fifty thousand crowns. At four and sixpence per crown, that comes to £33,750 sterling.
Pennsylvania’s government found a way to lend its subjects something equivalent to money without accumulating a treasury. It issued paper bills of credit to private individuals at interest, secured by land worth twice the advance. The bills were to be redeemed fifteen years after issue. Meanwhile, people could pass them from hand to hand like banknotes, and an act of assembly made them legal tender for all payments between residents of the province. This brought in a modest revenue. It paid a substantial share of about £4,500 in annual expenses, the entire regular expense of that frugal, orderly government. The success of this measure depended on three things. First, there had to be a demand for a trading instrument besides gold and silver money. Alternatively, people had to want so much consumable stock that they could obtain it only by sending most of their gold and silver abroad to buy it. Second, the issuing government needed good credit. Third, it had to use the measure with restraint. The total value of its paper bills could never exceed the gold and silver money needed to keep trade circulating if there had been no bills. Several other American colonies adopted the same measure on various occasions. But because they lacked this restraint, it caused much more disorder than convenience in most of them.
Stock and credit are unstable and can disappear. They cannot be relied on as the main sources of the secure, steady, lasting revenue that alone gives government security and dignity. No great nation beyond the shepherd stage seems ever to have drawn most of its public revenue from them.
Land is a more stable and lasting source. Accordingly, rents from public lands have supplied most of the public revenue of many great nations well beyond the shepherd stage. For a long time the ancient republics of Greece and Italy paid most of their necessary public expenses from the produce or rent of public lands. The rents of crown lands likewise supplied most of the revenue of Europe’s early sovereigns for a long time.
In modern times, war and preparing for war cause most of the necessary expenses of all great states. But in the ancient republics of Greece and Italy every citizen was a soldier and paid for his own service and preparation. Neither war nor preparation therefore cost the state very much. Rent from a fairly modest estate could easily pay for all the other necessary government expenses.
In Europe’s early monarchies, the customs of the time adequately prepared most people for war. When they went into the field, the terms of their feudal holdings required them to support themselves or be supported by their immediate lords. The sovereign faced no new charge. Most other government expenses were modest. As already shown, the administration of justice brought in revenue instead of costing money. People thought that requiring country workers to labor for three days before and three days after harvest provided enough to build and maintain all the bridges, highways, and other public works that trade needed. The sovereign’s main expense then seems to have been supporting his own family and household. So his household officers were the chief officers of state. The lord treasurer collected his rents. The lord steward and lord chamberlain managed his family expenses. The lord constable and lord marshal looked after his stables. His houses were built as castles and seem to have been his principal fortresses. Their keepers could be regarded as military governors, apparently the only military officers he needed to maintain in peacetime. Under these conditions, rent from a large estate could normally cover all necessary government expenses.
Today, in most of Europe’s civilized monarchies, even the rent from every piece of land in the country might hardly equal the regular revenue collected from the people in peacetime. That is especially so if one owner held all the land and managed it as such an owner probably would. Great Britain’s regular revenue, for example, exceeds ten millions a year. It pays current yearly expenses, interest on public debts, and part of the principal of those debts. Yet its land tax, at four shillings in the pound, brings in less than two millions a year. This so-called land tax is supposed to equal one-fifth not just of all land rents, but also of all house rents and the interest on all capital stock in Great Britain. The exceptions are stock lent to the public and farming stock used to cultivate land. A considerable share of the tax actually comes from house rents and interest on capital stock. For example, the land tax on the city of London at four shillings in the pound comes to £123,399: 6: 7; that on the city of Westminster to £63,092: 1: 5; and that on the palaces of Whitehall and St. James’s to £30,754: 6: 3. Every other incorporated city and town in the kingdom is also assessed for a share of this tax. Almost all of those payments come from house rents or the supposed interest on trading and capital stock. By the values used to assess Great Britain’s land tax, then, the combined revenue from all land rents, all house rents, and the interest on all capital stock—apart from stock lent to the public or used to cultivate land—does not exceed ten millions sterling a year. That equals the regular revenue the government collects from the people even in peacetime. The tax assessments are undoubtedly far below actual values on average across the kingdom, though reportedly close to them in some counties and districts. Many have estimated land rents alone, excluding house rents and stock interest, at twenty millions. That estimate is largely a guess and, I suspect, as likely to be too high as too low. But suppose Britain’s lands in their present state of cultivation yield no more than twenty millions a year in rent. They could probably yield less than half, and most likely less than a quarter, of that if one proprietor owned them all and put them under the negligent, costly, oppressive management of his agents. Britain’s crown lands now yield less than a quarter of the rent they could probably yield in private hands. If the crown lands were larger, they would probably be managed even 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
What most people earn from land depends not on its rent but on its produce. Every year, almost all the land’s produce in any country, apart from what is kept for seed, is either consumed by the people or traded for something they consume. Anything that reduces the land’s produce below its potential reduces the revenue of most people even more than it reduces the landowners’ revenue. Rent—the landowners’ share of the produce—is thought to be no more than a third of the total produce almost anywhere in Great Britain. Suppose land that yields ten millions sterling a year in rent under one method of cultivation could yield twenty millions under another. If rent is a third of the produce in both cases, landowners lose only ten millions a year in potential revenue. The rest of the people lose thirty millions a year, after deducting only what is needed for seed. The country’s population would be smaller by the number of people that thirty millions a year, again after deducting seed, could support. That number depends on the way people in the different ranks receiving the remaining produce live and spend.
No civilized European state today gets most of its public revenue from land owned by the state. Yet all Europe’s great monarchies still own large areas of crown land. These are usually called forests, though in some you can travel for miles without seeing a single tree. They are simply wasted land, in terms of both produce and population. Selling the crown lands in any great European monarchy would bring in a very large sum. If used to pay public debts, that sum would free up far more revenue than the lands have ever paid the crown. In countries where well-improved and highly cultivated land already yielding nearly its highest possible rent commonly sells for thirty years’ rent, neglected, uncultivated crown lands with low rents could reasonably sell for forty, fifty, or sixty years’ rent. The crown could immediately receive the revenue freed from debt by this large sale price. Within a few years, it would probably receive another source of revenue. Once privately owned, those lands would soon be improved and well cultivated. Their greater produce would increase the population by raising people’s revenue and consumption. As their revenue and consumption grew, the crown’s revenue from customs duties and excise would necessarily grow too.
The revenue a crown gets from its lands in any civilized monarchy seems to cost individuals nothing. In reality, it probably costs society more than any other equal amount of crown revenue. Society would always benefit if some other equal revenue replaced it and the land was divided among the people. A public sale would perhaps be the best way to do that.
The only land that should belong to the crown in a large, civilized monarchy seems to be land kept for pleasure and display: parks, gardens, public walks, and so on. Everywhere, such property is treated as an expense, not a source of revenue.
Public stock and public land are thus the two possible sources of revenue belonging specifically to the sovereign or commonwealth. Neither is adequate or suitable for paying the necessary expenses of a large, civilized state. Most of those expenses must instead be paid through taxes of one sort or another. People must contribute part of their private revenue to provide the sovereign or commonwealth with public revenue.
Part II. Taxes
As shown in the first book of this Inquiry, individuals’ private revenue ultimately comes from three sources: rent, profit, and wages. Every tax must ultimately be paid from one of these sources or from all three without distinction. I will try to explain taxes intended to fall, first, on rent; second, on profit; third, on wages; and fourth, on all three sources of private revenue without distinction. These four kinds of tax divide this second part of the chapter into four articles. Three of them need further subdivisions. As the following review will show, many taxes are not ultimately paid from the source of revenue on which they are intended to fall.
Before looking at individual taxes, I must set out four general principles of taxation.
1 The subjects of every state should support the government as nearly as possible in proportion to their ability to pay. That means in proportion to the revenue each enjoys under the state’s protection. The government’s cost to the people of a large nation is like the management costs paid by joint tenants of a large estate: each must contribute in proportion to his interest in the estate. Following or ignoring this principle determines what we call equality or inequality in taxation. Any tax ultimately paid from only one of the three sources of revenue just mentioned is necessarily unequal insofar as it does not affect the other two. In discussing the different taxes below, I will rarely say much more about this kind of inequality. Mostly, I will focus on the inequality caused when a tax falls unevenly on the particular source of private revenue it does affect.
2 The amount of tax each person must pay should be certain, not arbitrary. The time, method, and amount of payment should all be clear to the taxpayer and everyone else. Otherwise, every taxpayer is more or less at the mercy of the tax collector. The collector can raise the tax on someone he dislikes or threaten to do so to extort a gift or fee for himself. Uncertain taxes encourage the arrogance and corruption of tax collectors, who tend to be unpopular even when they are neither arrogant nor corrupt. Knowing exactly what each person owes is so important in taxation that, judging from the experience of all nations, even considerable inequality does much less harm than a little uncertainty.
3 Every tax should be collected at the time, or in the way, that makes payment most convenient for the taxpayer. A tax on land or house rent, due when the rent itself is usually paid, falls due when the taxpayer is most likely to have the money to pay it. Taxes on luxury goods that people consume are ultimately paid by their consumers, usually in a very convenient way. Consumers pay small amounts as they buy the goods. They are also free to buy or not buy them. If such a tax seriously inconveniences a consumer, therefore, it must be his own fault.
4 Every tax should be designed to take and keep as little money as possible out of people’s pockets beyond what it puts into the public treasury. A tax can cost people much more than the treasury receives in four ways. First, collection may need many officers. Their salaries may consume most of the tax’s proceeds, while their extra fees act as another tax on the people. Second, the tax may obstruct people’s work and deter them from entering businesses that could support and employ large numbers. It can demand payment while shrinking or even destroying the resources that would help people pay. Third, confiscations and other penalties on people who try and fail to evade the tax may ruin them. The community then loses the benefit of their capital at work. A poorly designed tax strongly tempts people to smuggle, yet smuggling penalties must rise with that temptation. Contrary to ordinary justice, the law creates the temptation, then punishes those who give in. It generally increases the punishment in proportion to the very thing that should lessen it: the temptation to commit the offense. [See Sketches of the History of Man page 474, and Seq.] Fourth, frequent visits and intrusive inspections by tax collectors can cause people needless trouble, distress, and oppression. Distress is not literally an expense, but it is equivalent to what anyone would willingly pay to escape it. In one or another of these four ways, taxes often burden the people much more than they benefit the sovereign.
The clear justice and usefulness of these principles have drawn the attention of every nation to some degree. Each has tried, as best it could judge, to make its taxes equal and certain, convenient to pay in both timing and method, and as little burdensome to the people as possible for the revenue they bring the prince. This short review of some major taxes in different times and countries will show that nations have had differing success in these efforts.
Article I—Taxes on Rent—Taxes on the Rent of Land
A tax on land rent can use a fixed assessment. Each district is assigned a particular rental value that is never changed. Alternatively, the tax can change whenever the actual rent changes, rising or falling as cultivation improves or declines.
A land tax such as Great Britain’s is assessed in each district at a fixed rate. Even if it were equal when first established, it must become unequal over time because cultivation improves or declines at different rates in different places. In England, the valuations used to assess the counties and parishes under the land tax of the 4th of William and Mary were very unequal from the start. So the tax violates the first principle above. It fully meets the other three. Its amount is certain. Its payment date coincides with rent day, the most convenient time for the taxpayer. The landlord is always the person who really pays, though the tenant usually pays first and deducts the amount from the rent he owes. Many fewer officers collect this tax than collect any other that brings in nearly as much revenue. Because the district’s tax does not rise as rents rise, the sovereign takes no share of a landlord’s gains from improvements. Such improvements can sometimes lower the share of tax paid by other landlords in the district. But any resulting increase in the tax on a particular estate is always too small to discourage improvements or hold down the land’s produce. Since the tax does not reduce the quantity of produce, it cannot raise its price. It does not obstruct people’s work or inconvenience the landlord except by requiring him to pay it. The landlord’s benefit from the permanently fixed valuation used for Britain’s land tax, however, has mainly resulted from circumstances unrelated to the nature of the tax itself.
Part of that benefit comes from the prosperity of almost the entire country. Since the valuation was first set, rents on almost all British estates have risen steadily, and hardly any have fallen. Nearly all landlords have therefore gained the difference between what they would pay on today’s rents and what they actually pay on the old valuation. If conditions had been different and rents had steadily fallen because cultivation declined, almost all landlords would have lost that difference. Given what has happened since the revolution, the fixed valuation has helped landlords and hurt the sovereign. Under different conditions it could have helped the sovereign and hurt 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 paid in money, the land’s assessed value is stated in money too. Since that value was first set, silver’s value has stayed fairly stable. The standard weight and purity of the coinage have not changed either. If silver had risen considerably in value, as it seems to have done during the two centuries before the discovery of America’s mines, the fixed assessment could have been very oppressive to landlords. If its value had fallen considerably, as it certainly did for at least about a century after that discovery, the same fixed assessment would have greatly reduced this source of sovereign revenue. A major change in the standard of money would also matter, whether the same amount of silver were given a lower or a higher denomination. For example, suppose an ounce of silver were coined into pieces totaling two shillings and seven pence or ten shillings and four pence, rather than five shillings and two pence. The lower denomination would hurt the landowner’s revenue; the higher one would hurt the sovereign’s.
Under conditions somewhat different from the ones that actually occurred, a fixed assessment could therefore have caused great inconvenience to either taxpayers or the commonwealth. Given enough time, such conditions will arise. Empires, like all human works, have so far proved mortal. Yet every empire aims to last forever. Any tax arrangement meant to last as long as an empire should therefore work under all conditions, not just particular ones. It should fit conditions that are necessary and always the same, rather than temporary, occasional, or accidental conditions.
A group of French scholars who call themselves the economists recommend a tax on land rent that changes whenever rent changes, rising and falling with the improvement or neglect of cultivation. They consider it the fairest tax of all. They claim all taxes ultimately fall on land rent, so the taxes should be imposed evenly on the source that must ultimately pay them. Taxes certainly should fall as evenly as possible on the source that ultimately pays. But we need not enter the unpleasant debate over the abstract arguments supporting their ingenious theory. The following review will show which taxes ultimately fall on land rent and which fall on other sources.
In Venetian territory, all arable land leased to farmers is taxed at a tenth of the rent. [Memoires concernant les Droits, p. 240, 241.] The leases are entered in a public register kept by revenue officers in each province or district. When an owner farms his own land, its rental value is fairly estimated. He then receives a reduction of one-fifth in his tax, paying only eight instead of ten per cent. of the estimated rent.
This kind of land tax is certainly more equal than England’s. It might be less certain, however, and its assessment might often cause the landlord much more trouble. It might also cost much more to collect.
Still, a system of administration could perhaps largely prevent that uncertainty and keep collection costs down.
For example, landlords and tenants could be required to register their leases together. There could be appropriate penalties for concealing or misrepresenting any terms. If part of the penalty went to either party who reported and proved the other’s deception, the two would be effectively discouraged from joining forces to cheat the public revenue. The record would reveal all the lease’s terms clearly enough.
Some landlords charge a lump sum for renewing a lease instead of raising the rent. Usually this is what a spendthrift does: he takes cash now in exchange for future revenue worth much more. The practice usually hurts the landlord, often hurts the tenant, and always hurts the community. It often takes so much of the tenant’s capital that he becomes less able to cultivate the land. As a result, he may find it harder to pay a low rent than he would otherwise have found it to pay a high one. Anything that reduces his ability to cultivate holds the community’s most important source of revenue below its potential. Taxing these lump sums considerably more heavily than ordinary rent could discourage this harmful practice. The landlord, tenant, sovereign, and whole community would all benefit substantially.
Some leases require a tenant to use a specified method of cultivation and crop rotation throughout the lease. Usually this requirement comes from the landlord’s belief that he knows better, a belief that is usually unfounded. It should always count as extra rent paid in services rather than money. To discourage this generally foolish practice, such rent could be valued rather high and taxed somewhat more heavily than ordinary money rent.
Some landlords demand produce rather than money as rent: corn, cattle, poultry, wine, oil, and so on. Others demand services. These kinds of rent always harm the tenant more than they benefit the landlord. They either take more from the tenant or prevent him from receiving more than they add to the landlord’s income. Wherever they are common, tenants are poor and destitute, roughly in proportion to how common they are. Valuing such rents rather high, and so taxing them somewhat more heavily than ordinary money rents, might sufficiently discourage a practice that harms the whole community.
When a landlord decides to farm part of his own land, its rent could be fairly assessed by neighboring farmers and landlords acting as arbitrators. He could then receive a modest reduction in the tax, as in Venetian territory, as long as the assessed rent on the land he farms stays below a set sum. It matters that landlords be encouraged to cultivate some of their own land. Their capital is generally greater than tenants’ capital, so they can often raise more produce even with less skill. A landlord can afford to experiment and is generally inclined to do so. Failed experiments cost only him a modest amount; successful ones help improve cultivation throughout the country. Still, it could matter that the tax reduction encourage him to farm only up to a certain point. If most landlords were tempted to farm all their own lands, the country would have idle, reckless estate managers instead of steady, hardworking tenants. The tenants’ own interests drive them to cultivate as well as their capital and skill allow. The managers’ abusive practices would soon damage cultivation and reduce the land’s yearly produce. This would cut not only their masters’ revenue but also the most important part of the whole society’s revenue.
Such a system might remove enough uncertainty from this tax to prevent inconvenience or oppression to the taxpayer. At the same time, it could introduce a land-management policy that would do much to improve cultivation throughout the country.
A land tax that changed whenever rents changed would undoubtedly cost somewhat more to collect than one based on a fixed assessment. There would have to be extra spending on registration offices in the country’s various districts and on occasional assessments of land its owner chose to farm himself. But these costs could be quite modest. They could be far less than the cost of collecting many other taxes that bring in very little revenue by comparison with what this kind of tax could easily bring in.
The strongest objection to this variable land tax seems to be that it might discourage land improvements. A landlord would certainly be less willing to improve his land if the sovereign, who paid none of the costs, shared in the gains. But perhaps even this objection can be met. Before beginning an improvement, the landlord could agree on the land’s current value with revenue officers. An equal number of local landlords and farmers chosen by each side would assess it fairly. For enough years to let him fully recover his costs, his tax would be based on that value. One main proposed advantage of this land tax is that rising revenue would give the sovereign an interest in improving the land. So the period allowed for the landlord to recover his costs should not be much longer than necessary, or the distant prospect of a revenue increase might weaken the sovereign’s interest too much. Yet a period slightly too long is better than one at all too short. No incentive for the sovereign to pay attention could outweigh even the slightest discouragement to a landlord. At best, the sovereign can only form a broad, imprecise judgment about what might improve cultivation in most of his dominions. A landlord can closely consider the best use of every inch of his estate. Above all, the sovereign should encourage both landlords and farmers to give their land this attention. He should let them follow their own interests in their own way and according to their own judgment. He should give them complete security that they will receive the full reward for their work. And he should give them the widest possible market for all their produce. He can do that by establishing the easiest, safest transport routes by land and water throughout his dominions, and allowing completely unrestricted exports to the dominions of every other prince.
If administration like this could make such a tax encourage land improvements rather than discourage them, the only inconvenience it would seem to cause landlords is the unavoidable need to pay it. It would automatically adapt to the actual situation as society changed, whether agriculture improved or declined, silver changed in value, or the coinage standard changed. No action by government would be needed. It would remain just and fair throughout those changes. It would therefore be much more suitable than a tax based permanently on one assessment for enactment as a permanent, unalterable rule, or what is called a fundamental law of the commonwealth.
Instead of simply registering leases, some states have taken the laborious, costly route of surveying and assessing all land in the country. They probably feared that landlords and tenants might conspire to hide the true terms of a lease and cheat the public revenue. Doomsday-book appears to have resulted from a very careful survey of this sort.
In the king of Prussia’s old dominions, the land tax is based on an actual survey and assessment, revised and changed from time to time. [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom, i. p. 114, 115, 116, etc.] Under that assessment, lay landowners pay from twenty to twenty-five per cent. of their revenue, and clergy pay from forty to forty-five per cent. The present king reportedly ordered a very careful survey and assessment of Silesia. Under that assessment, land belonging to the bishop of Breslaw pays twenty-five per cent. of its rent. Other clergy revenues, from both religions, pay fifty per cent. The estates of the Teutonic order and the order of Malta pay forty per cent. Land held by noble tenure pays thirty-eight and one-third per cent.; land held by base tenure pays thirty-five and one-third per cent.
Bohemia’s survey and assessment reportedly took more than a hundred years. It was completed only after the peace of 1748, by order of the present empress queen. [Id. tom i. p.85, 84.] A survey of the duchy of Milan began under Charles VI. but was not finished until after 1760. It is considered one of the most accurate ever made. The late king of Sardinia ordered the survey of Savoy and Piedmont. [Id. p. 280, etc.; also p, 287. etc. to 316.]
In the king of Prussia’s dominions, church revenue is taxed much more heavily than lay landowners’ revenue. Most church revenue is a charge on land rent. Hardly any of it is used to improve land or otherwise raise the revenue of most people. His Prussian majesty probably thought that for this reason it ought to contribute considerably more toward the state’s needs. In some countries church lands pay no taxes. Elsewhere they pay less than other land. In the duchy of Milan, church lands acquired 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 under noble tenure is taxed three per cent. more heavily than land held under base tenure. His Prussian majesty probably thought the honors and privileges attached to noble tenure would make up for the slightly higher tax. Meanwhile, taxing base tenure less would somewhat ease the humiliation of its lower status. Elsewhere, taxes make this inequality worse rather than easing it. In the lands of the king of Sardinia, and in the French provinces subject to the real or predial taille, only land held under base tenure pays the tax. Land held under noble tenure is exempt.
A land tax based on a general survey and valuation may be fair at first, but will become unequal within a fairly short time. Preventing this would require the government to keep close and constant watch on changes in the condition and output of every farm in the country. The governments of Prussia, Bohemia, Sardinia, and the duchy of Milan do pay this kind of attention. But this work is so ill-suited to government that they are unlikely to keep it up for long. If they do, it will probably cause taxpayers much more trouble and aggravation in the long run than the relief it can offer.
In 1666, the generality of Montauban was assessed for the real or predial taille using what is said to have been a very accurate survey and valuation. [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom. ii p. 139, etc.] By 1727, the assessment had become thoroughly unequal. To fix this, the government could find no better method than to assess an additional hundred and twenty thousand livres across the whole generality. Each district subject to the taille is assigned a share of this extra tax according to the old assessment. But the government collects it only from districts that the old assessment now undertaxes, and uses it to help those the old assessment overtaxes. Suppose two districts should now pay nine hundred and eleven hundred livres respectively, but the old assessment charges each a thousand livres. The additional tax rates each at eleven hundred livres. Yet it is collected only from the undercharged district, and is used entirely to help the overcharged district, which then pays just nine hundred livres. The government neither gains nor loses from this extra tax. All of it goes toward correcting the inequalities of the old assessment. Its distribution is largely left to the discretion of the generality's intendant, so it must be largely arbitrary.
Taxes Proportioned to the Produce of Land Rather Than Its Rent.
Taxes on the produce of land are really taxes on rent. The farmer may pay them first, but the landlord pays them in the end. When a fixed share of the crop must be paid as tax, the farmer estimates, as well as he can, what that share is likely to be worth over the years. He then reduces the rent he agrees to pay the landlord by a corresponding amount. Every farmer estimates in advance what the church tithe, a land tax of this kind, is likely to cost him on average.
The tithe and other land taxes of this kind appear perfectly equal, but are actually very unequal. The same share of the crop may represent very different shares of the rent in different places. On some very rich land, half the crop is enough to repay the farmer's cultivation capital and give him the usual profit on farming stock in the neighborhood. Without a tithe, he could pay the other half, or its value, to the landlord as rent. But if he must give one-tenth of the crop as a tithe, he needs a reduction of one-fifth of his rent. Otherwise he cannot recover his capital and usual profit. The landlord's rent is then four-tenths of the crop, rather than a half, or five-tenths. On poorer land, by contrast, the crop can be so small and cultivation so costly that four-fifths of the crop is needed to repay the farmer's capital and usual profit. Even without a tithe, the landlord's rent could then be no more than one-fifth, or two-tenths, of the crop. If the farmer must pay one-tenth of the crop as a tithe, he needs the landlord's rent reduced by the same amount. That leaves the rent at only one-tenth of the whole crop. The tithe on rich land may therefore amount to just one-fifth of its rent, or four shillings in the pound. On poorer land it may amount to half the rent, or ten shillings in the pound.
The tithe is often a very unequal tax on rent, and it always strongly discourages both the landlord's improvements and the farmer's cultivation. The landlord cannot risk making the most important improvements, which are usually the most expensive. Nor can the farmer risk growing the most valuable crops, which are usually the most expensive too. In both cases, the church pays none of the costs yet takes a large share of the profit. For a long time, the tithe confined the growing of madder to the United Provinces. As presbyterian countries, they were free of this damaging tax and had a kind of monopoly on this useful dyeing plant against the rest of Europe. Recent attempts to grow it in England were made only after a law provided for payment of five shillings an acre instead of any tithe on madder.
Across most of Europe, the church is chiefly supported by a land tax based on the produce rather than the rent. In many Asian countries the state is supported in the same way. In China, the ruler's main revenue comes from a tenth of the produce of all the empire's land. That tenth is valued so modestly, however, that in many provinces it is said to come to no more than a thirtieth of the usual produce. Before Bengal came under the English East India company, the land tax or land rent paid to its Mahometan government is said to have been about a fifth of the produce. The land tax of ancient Egypt is also said to have been a fifth.
In Asia, this kind of land tax is said to give the ruler an interest in improving and cultivating land. Accordingly, the rulers of China, of Bengal under the Mahometan government, and of ancient Egypt are said to have taken great care to build and maintain good roads and navigable canals. These would give every part of the crop the widest market their lands could offer, increasing both its quantity and its value as much as possible. The church tithe is divided into such small shares that none of its owners has an interest of this kind. A parish minister could never find it worthwhile to build a road or canal to a distant part of the country just to widen the market for his own parish's produce. Taxes of this kind have some benefits that may partly offset their drawbacks when they support the state. When they support the church, they bring nothing but drawbacks.
Taxes on the produce of land can be collected either in kind or in money at a set valuation.
A parish minister receiving his tithe, or a man of modest means living on his estate and receiving its rent, may sometimes benefit from payment in kind. The amount and the area involved are small enough for each to oversee personally the collection and use of everything owed to him. But a wealthy man living in the capital could lose much through his agents' neglect, and more through their fraud, if rent from an estate in a distant province were paid this way. A ruler would inevitably lose still more through abuse and theft by tax collectors. Even the most careless private owner's servants may be watched more closely than those of the most careful ruler. Public revenue paid in kind would suffer so much mismanagement during collection that very little of what the people paid would ever reach the ruler's treasury. Some Chinese public revenue is nevertheless said to be paid this way. The mandarins and other tax collectors no doubt benefit from keeping a payment method much more open to abuse than payment in money.
A tax on land's produce collected in money can be based on a valuation that changes with market prices, or on a fixed valuation. Under the latter, for example, a bushel of wheat is always valued at the same money price, whatever happens in the market. Revenue from the first type changes only when the land's actual produce changes through improvements in cultivation or its neglect. Revenue from the second changes not only with the amount produced, but also with changes in the value of precious metals and in the amount of metal contained at different times in coins of the same denomination. The first tax always takes the same share of the value of the land's actual produce. The second may take very different shares at different times.
Suppose a fixed sum of money is paid instead of either a share of the produce or the price of that share, as full payment of all taxes or tithes. This tax then has exactly the same nature as England's land tax. It does not rise or fall with land rent, and it neither encourages nor discourages improvement. The tithe in most parishes that pay what is called a modus instead of all other tithes is such a tax. Under Bengal's Mahometan government, most districts or zemindaries established a modus, said to be very moderate, instead of paying a fifth of the produce in kind. In some provinces, East India company servants have replaced this modus with payment in kind, claiming to restore public revenue to its proper value. Under their administration, this change is likely to discourage cultivation and create new opportunities for abuse in collecting public revenue. That revenue has fallen far below what it was said to be when the company first took charge. The company's servants may have gained from the change, but probably at the expense of both their employers and the country.
Taxes on the Rent of Houses.
House rent can be divided into two parts. One is properly called building-rent, and the other is usually called ground-rent.
Building-rent is the interest or profit on the capital spent building the house. For building to pay as well as other trades, this rent must do two things. First, it must pay the builder as much interest as he would have earned by lending his capital on good security. Second, it must cover the house's ongoing repairs, or equivalently repay the capital spent on construction within a certain number of years. Building-rent, or the usual profit on building, is therefore governed everywhere by the usual interest rate. Where market interest is four per cent., a house that yields six or six and a-half per cent. on its full construction cost, beyond its ground-rent, may give the builder enough profit. Where interest is five per cent., the house may need to yield seven or seven and a half per cent. If building offers a much greater profit relative to interest, it will soon attract enough capital from other trades to bring profit down to its proper level. If it offers much less, capital will move into other trades until building profit rises again.
Whatever part of the total house rent exceeds what is needed for this reasonable profit naturally becomes ground-rent. When the landowner and the building owner are different people, almost all this excess usually goes to the landowner. It is the price the resident pays for some real or imagined advantage of the location. In country houses far from a large town, with plenty of land to choose from, ground-rent is almost nothing. At most it is what the land under the house would earn in farming. In country villas near a large town, it can be much higher. People there often pay well for a location's special convenience or beauty. Ground-rents are generally highest in the capital, especially in its areas where demand for houses is greatest. It makes no difference whether that demand comes from trade and business, pleasure and company, or simply 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 paid by the tenant and proportional to each house's total rent could not affect building-rent for long. If builders could not make a reasonable profit, they would leave the trade. The resulting demand for construction would soon bring their profit back in line with other trades. Nor would the whole tax fall on ground-rent. It would be shared between the house's resident and the landowner.
Suppose, for example, a person decides he can spend sixty pounds a-year in total on house rent. Now suppose residents must pay a house-rent tax of four shillings in the pound, or one-fifth. A house renting for sixty pounds would then cost him seventy-two pounds a-year, twelve pounds more than he can afford. He will settle for a worse house, renting for fifty pounds. The additional ten pounds in tax will bring his total cost to the sixty pounds a-year he can afford. To pay the tax, he gives up some of the extra convenience he could have had in a house costing ten pounds a-year more in rent. I say some, because he will rarely have to give up all of it. Because of the tax, fifty pounds a-year will buy him a better house than it would without the tax. By removing this particular bidder, such a tax reduces competition for houses renting for sixty pounds. It also reduces competition for those renting for fifty pounds, and likewise for all other rental levels except the lowest, where competition would rise for a while. Rents must fall to some extent in every class of houses where competition declines. But none of this reduction can affect building-rent for long. In the end, it must all come out of ground-rent. Thus the house's resident ultimately pays part of the tax by giving up some convenience, while the landowner pays part by giving up some revenue. It may not be easy to say how much each pays. The division would probably vary widely with circumstances. Depending on those circumstances, such a tax could affect both residents and landowners very unequally.
For owners of different ground-rents, the uneven burden of this tax would come entirely from differences in how that burden is divided. For residents of different houses, it would come both from that division and from another cause. The share of total living expenses spent on house rent differs at different levels of wealth. It may be greatest for the very rich and then decline step by step, generally reaching its lowest point among the poor. Necessities are the poor's main expense. Food is hard for them to obtain, and most of their small revenue goes toward it. Luxuries and displays of status are the rich's chief expense. A grand house enhances and shows off all their other luxuries and displays. A house-rent tax would therefore generally weigh most heavily on the rich. This kind of inequality may not be unreasonable. It is not unreasonable for the rich to contribute to public expenses not only in proportion to their revenue, but somewhat more.
House rent resembles land rent in some ways, but differs in one essential respect. Land rent pays for the use of something productive. The land paying that rent produces it. House rent pays for the use of something unproductive. Neither the house nor the land beneath it produces anything. The person paying the rent must therefore get the money from another source of revenue, separate from the house itself. To the extent a house-rent tax falls on residents, it comes from the same source as the rent: their revenue from wages of labor, profits of stock, or rent of land. To that extent it falls across all three sources of revenue, rather than only one. In every respect, it works like a tax on any other consumer good. Perhaps no other expense or purchase shows more clearly how freely or sparingly a person spends overall than his house rent. A proportional tax on this expense might produce more substantial revenue than any house tax collected so far anywhere in Europe. But if the tax were very high, most people would try to avoid it as much as possible by choosing smaller houses and spending more on other things.
House rents could be determined accurately enough through a policy much like the one needed to determine the usual rent of land. Empty houses should pay no tax. Such a tax would fall entirely on an owner who receives neither convenience nor revenue from the house. Houses occupied by their owners should be assessed according to the rent that a fair arbitrator thinks they would bring if rented to tenants, not their construction costs. If they were assessed on construction costs, a tax of three or four shillings in the pound, on top of other taxes, would ruin nearly all the great and rich families of this country and, I believe, every other civilized country. Look closely at the town and country houses of some of this country's wealthiest and greatest families. A rental return of only six and a-half, or seven per cent. on their original construction costs would nearly equal the entire net rent of their estates. These houses contain the accumulated spending of several generations. They may be very beautiful and grand, but their market value is very small compared with 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 like a monopolist and charges the highest rent he can get for use of his land. He can get more or less depending on how rich the competing buyers are and how much they can afford to spend on their preference for that particular site. In every country, the capital has the most wealthy bidders, and so it always has the highest ground-rents. A tax on ground-rents would not make those bidders any richer, so they would probably not be willing to pay more for the land. Whether the resident or the landowner initially paid the tax would matter little. The more the resident had to pay in tax, the less he would be willing to pay for the land. The whole tax would ultimately fall on the owner of the ground-rent. Ground-rents from empty houses should not be taxed. Both ground-rents and the usual rent of land are types of revenue that owners often receive without any effort or attention. Taking part of that revenue to pay state expenses would not discourage any industry. The society's yearly produce from land and labor, the real wealth and revenue of most people, could remain unchanged. Ground-rents and ordinary land rents are therefore perhaps the types of revenue best able to bear a special tax.
Ground-rents are in this respect an even better subject for a special tax than ordinary land rents. Ordinary land rent is often partly the result of a landlord's care and good management. A very heavy tax might discourage that care and management too much. Ground-rent above the ordinary rent of land comes entirely from good government. By protecting the work of the people generally, or of those in a particular place, the ruler enables them to pay far more for the land under their houses than its real value. They thus pay the landowner far more than compensation for any loss from putting it to that use. It is entirely reasonable for a fund created by good government to bear a special tax, or to contribute more than most other funds toward supporting that government.
Many European countries have taxed house rents. But I know of none that has treated ground-rents as a separate subject of taxation. Those who designed the taxes have probably had trouble determining how much rent is ground-rent and how much is building-rent. Still, distinguishing the two parts should not be very difficult.
In Great Britain, what is called the annual land tax is supposed to tax house rents at the same rate as land rents. Every parish and district is always assessed using the same valuation. That valuation was very unequal from the beginning and remains so. In most of the kingdom, the tax still weighs less heavily on house rents than on land rents. Only in a few districts, where the original assessment was high and house rents have since fallen considerably, is the land tax of three or four shillings in the pound said to equal that share of actual house rent. By law empty houses are taxed, but assessors excuse them in most districts. This exception sometimes produces small differences in the rates paid by particular houses, though the district's rate remains unchanged. Rent increases resulting from new construction, repairs, etc. reduce the district's burden, creating further differences in the effective 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. Its actual rent and whether it is occupied do not matter. It seems unfair to make an owner pay tax on an empty house that gives him no revenue, especially such a heavy tax. In Holland, market interest is no more than three per cent. A tax of two and a-half per cent. of the house's full value must usually exceed one-third of its building-rent, perhaps even of its total rent. The valuations used for the tax are said to be very unequal, though always below true value. A rebuilt, improved, or enlarged house is valued again and taxed accordingly.
The designers of the different house taxes imposed at various times in England seem to have thought it very hard to determine the actual rent of every house with reasonable accuracy. So they based their taxes on more obvious features that they probably thought would usually reflect the rent to some degree.
The first such tax was hearth-money, a charge of two shillings on every hearth. To count the hearths, the tax collector had to enter every room in the house. This hated inspection made the tax hated too. It was therefore abolished soon after the Revolution as a mark of slavery.
The next tax of this kind charged two shillings on each occupied home. A house with ten windows paid another four shillings, while one with twenty windows or more paid eight shillings. The tax was later changed so that houses with twenty but fewer than thirty windows paid ten shillings, and those with thirty windows or more paid twenty shillings. Windows can usually be counted from outside, and always without entering every room. The collector's visit was therefore less offensive than under hearth-money.
This tax was later repealed and replaced with the window-tax, which has since been changed and raised twice. As it stands now (January 1775), the window tax charges three shillings for every house in England and one shilling for every house in Scotland. In England it also charges for each window, at rates rising gradually from twopence for houses with no more than seven windows to two shillings for houses with twenty-five windows or more.
The main objection to all these taxes is their inequality, of the worst kind: they often weigh far more heavily on the poor than the rich. A house renting for ten pounds in a country town may have more windows than one renting for five hundred pounds in London. Its resident is probably much poorer than the resident of the London house, yet pays more toward supporting the state when his contribution is based on windows. Such taxes therefore directly violate the first of the four maxims mentioned earlier. They do not appear to violate the other three to any significant extent.
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 window tax, like every other tax on houses, naturally tends to reduce rents. Clearly, the more someone pays in tax, the less he can afford in rent. Nevertheless, since the window tax began, house rents have generally risen to some extent in almost every British town and village I know. In almost every place, demand for houses has increased enough to raise rents by more than the window tax could lower them. This is one of many signs of the country's great prosperity and its residents' rising revenue. Without the tax, rents would probably have risen even more.
ARTICLE II.—Taxes on Profit, or on Revenue from Stock.
The revenue or profit from stock naturally has two parts. One pays interest and belongs to the owner of the stock. The other is the surplus above what is needed to pay that interest.
This surplus cannot in practice be taxed directly. It pays for the risk and trouble of employing stock, and usually provides only modest compensation. Whoever employs the stock needs this payment, or it would not be in his interest to keep employing it. If he were taxed directly in proportion to his entire profit, he would therefore have to raise his rate of profit or pass the tax on to the interest on borrowed money by paying less interest. If he raised his profit to cover the tax, he might pay the tax first, but one of two other groups would pay it in the end, depending on how he used the stock. If he used it as farming stock to cultivate land, he could raise his profit only by keeping more of the land's produce, or the price of more of that produce. He could do that only by paying less rent. The landlord would then ultimately pay the tax. If he used the stock in trade or manufacturing, he could raise his profit only by raising the price of his goods. The buyers of those goods would then pay the entire tax in the end. If he did not raise his profit, he would have to take the whole tax out of the part of profit reserved for interest. He could pay less interest on the stock he borrowed, and the tax would ultimately fall entirely on interest. If he could not escape the tax one way, he would have to escape it the other.
At first glance, interest on money seems as suitable for direct taxation as land rent. Like land rent, it is net produce left after all the risk and trouble of employing stock have been fully paid for. A tax on land rent cannot raise rents. After a farmer has recovered his stock and reasonable profit, the net produce left cannot be greater with the tax than without it. For the same reason, a tax on interest could not raise the interest rate, assuming the country's amount of stock or money remains the same after the tax, just as its amount of land does. As shown in the first book, the usual profit rate everywhere depends on how much stock is available to employ compared with the amount of work or business available for it to do. A tax on interest cannot change that amount of work or business. So if it does not change the amount of stock either, the usual profit rate must stay the same. The share of profit needed to compensate the employer for risk and trouble must also stay the same, since the risk and trouble have not changed. The remainder, which belongs to the stock's owner and pays interest, must therefore stay the same too. At first glance, then, interest seems just as suitable for direct taxation as land rent.
Two circumstances, however, make interest a much less suitable subject for direct taxation than land rent.
First, the amount and value of someone's land can never be secret and can always be measured quite accurately. His total capital stock, by contrast, is almost always secret and can hardly ever be measured with reasonable accuracy. It also changes almost constantly. It rarely stays the same for a year, often changes within a month, and sometimes changes within a single day. Investigating everyone's private affairs, and then tracking every change in their wealth to adjust the tax, would cause constant and endless harassment that no one could bear.
Second, land cannot be moved, while stock can move easily. A landowner must be a citizen of the country where his estate lies. The owner of stock is more properly a citizen of the world, with no necessary attachment to one country. He would be inclined to leave a country that subjected him to intrusive investigations for a heavy tax. He would move his stock somewhere else, where he could do business or enjoy his wealth more comfortably. Moving that stock would end all the work 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 therefore tend to drain every source of revenue for both the ruler and society. Not only profits on stock but land rents and wages of labor would inevitably fall to some extent when it left.
Countries that have tried to tax revenue from stock have therefore avoided these harsh investigations. They have had to settle for rough and thus somewhat arbitrary estimates. A tax assessed this way is so unequal and uncertain that only a very low rate can make it tolerable. Each person is then assessed so far below his real revenue that he is not much troubled if his neighbor is assessed a little lower.
England's so-called land tax was intended to tax stock at the same rate as land. When the land tax was four shillings in the pound, or one-fifth of the estimated rent, stock was meant to be taxed at one-fifth of its estimated interest. When the current annual land tax was first introduced, the legal interest rate was six per cent. A hundred pounds of stock was therefore supposed to pay twenty-four shillings in tax, one-fifth of six pounds. Since the legal interest rate fell to five per cent., a hundred pounds of stock is supposed to pay only twenty shillings. The total to be collected under the so-called land tax was divided between rural areas and the main towns. Most was assigned to rural areas, and most of the towns' share was assessed on houses. The amount left to be assessed on town stock or trade—the stock used on land was not meant to be taxed—was far below that stock or trade's real value. Any inequalities in the original assessment therefore caused little concern. Each parish and district is still assessed for its land, houses, and stock under the original valuation. General prosperity has raised their values greatly in most places, making the old inequalities even less important. Because each district's assessment also stays the same, uncertainty about how the tax might be assessed on any individual's stock has been much reduced and matters much less. If most English land is assessed for land tax at less than half its actual value, most English stock is perhaps assessed at barely a fiftieth of its actual value. In some towns, such as Westminster, the entire land tax is assessed on houses, leaving stock and trade untaxed. London is different.
Every country has carefully avoided a harsh investigation into private citizens' affairs.
At Hamburg, [Memoires concernant les Droits, tom. i, p.74] every resident must pay the state one fourth per cent. of everything he owns. Since Hamburg's wealth consists mainly of stock, this can be considered a tax on stock. Each person assesses himself. Once a year, in a magistrate's presence, he puts money into the public treasury and swears that it equals one fourth per cent. of everything he owns. He does not disclose his total wealth and is not subject to questioning about it. People generally believe this tax is paid very honestly. Such conscientious, voluntary payment can sometimes be expected in a small republic where people have full confidence in their officials, believe the tax is necessary to support the state, and believe it will be faithfully used for that purpose. Hamburg is not unique in this respect.
The Swiss canton of Underwald is often hit by storms and floods, bringing unusual expenses. On such occasions, the people gather and each person is said to state his wealth with complete openness so he can be taxed accordingly. At Zurich, the law requires everyone in times of need to be taxed according to revenue, whose amount each must declare on oath. People there are said not to suspect any fellow citizen of cheating. At Basil, the state's chief revenue comes from a small customs duty on exported goods. All citizens swear to pay every legally imposed tax every three months. Merchants and even innkeepers are trusted to keep their own records of goods sold, whether inside or outside the territory. At the end of each three-month period, they send their accounts to the treasurer, with the tax calculated at the bottom. No one suspects that this trust costs the state revenue. [Memoires concernant les Droits, tom. i p. 163, 167,171.]
In those Swiss cantons, publicly declaring one's wealth on oath does not seem to be considered a hardship. At Hamburg, it would be considered the greatest hardship. Merchants engaged in risky ventures dread having to reveal the true condition of their finances at any time. They expect such exposure would often destroy their credit and ruin their ventures. A careful and frugal people who have no such ventures do not feel a need for that secrecy.
In Holland, soon after the late prince of Orange was raised to the office of stadtholder, 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 in Hamburg. It was generally believed that people paid very honestly. At the time, the people were strongly devoted to the new government they had just established through a general uprising. The tax was a one-time payment to help the state meet a particular emergency. It was too heavy to last. Where market interest seldom exceeds three per cent., a tax of two per cent. of capital is equal to thirteen shillings and four pence in the pound on the highest net revenue usually earned from stock. Very few could pay it without using up some of their capital. In an emergency, public enthusiasm may lead people to make a great effort and sacrifice even part of their capital to help the state. But they cannot keep doing so for long. If they did, the tax would soon ruin them so thoroughly that they could no longer support the state.
The tax on stock in England's land tax bill is based on capital, but is not meant to reduce or take any of that capital. It is intended as a tax only on interest, matching the tax on land rent. When the latter is four shillings in the pound, interest can also be taxed at four shillings in the pound. The Hamburg tax, and the still smaller taxes of Underwald and Zurich, are likewise intended to tax interest or the net revenue of stock, not capital. The Dutch tax was intended to tax capital.
Taxes on the Profit of Particular Employments.
In some countries, special taxes are imposed on profits from stock, sometimes in particular branches of trade and sometimes in farming.
English examples of taxes on particular trades include those on hawkers and peddlers, on hired coaches and chairs, and the license fee paid by keepers of alehouses to sell ale and spirituous liquors. During the recent war, a similar tax on shops was proposed. The argument was that the war had been fought to defend the country's trade, so the merchants who would gain from it ought to help pay for it.
A tax on profit from stock employed in a particular trade, however, can never ultimately fall on its dealers. Ordinarily they need a reasonable profit and, where competition is free, can rarely earn more. The tax instead falls on buyers, who must pay in the price of the goods the tax that dealers paid in advance, usually with some extra charge on top.
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
When a tax of this kind is proportional to a dealer’s trade, the consumer ultimately pays it, and it does not burden the dealer unfairly. When every dealer pays the same tax regardless of trade, the consumer still ultimately pays it. But it favors large dealers and puts some pressure on small ones. The tax of five shillings a week on each rented coach and ten shillings a year on each rented chair is proportional enough to the business done by the people who provide them. It neither favors large dealers nor burdens small ones. A license to sell ale costs twenty shillings a year, a license to sell spirits forty shillings, and a license to sell wine another forty shillings. Because every retailer pays the same amount, large dealers inevitably gain some advantage and small ones bear some burden. Large dealers can recover the tax through their prices more easily. But the tax is moderate, so this inequality matters less. Many people might also think it reasonable to discourage the spread of small alehouses. The proposed tax on shops was supposed to be the same for every shop. It could hardly have worked otherwise. To match a shop’s tax reasonably closely to its trade would have required an investigation that a free country could not tolerate. A substantial tax would have burdened small shops and driven nearly all retail trade into the hands of large dealers. Without competition from small dealers, large ones would have had a monopoly. Like other monopolists, they would soon have joined together to raise their profits far beyond what was needed to pay the tax. The consumer, rather than the shopkeeper, would ultimately have paid it, along with a substantial extra profit for the shopkeeper. For these reasons, the shop-tax proposal was abandoned and replaced by the subsidy, 1759.
The personal taille in France is perhaps the most important tax anywhere in Europe on profits from stock used in agriculture.
When feudal government prevailed in a disorderly Europe, rulers had to settle for taxing people too weak to refuse. Great lords were willing to help a ruler in particular emergencies but refused any permanent tax, and the ruler could not force them to pay one. Most people who occupied land throughout Europe were originally bondmen. They gradually gained freedom across much of Europe. Some came to own landed estates under a low-status form of tenure, sometimes under the king and sometimes under another great lord, like England’s old copyholders. Others did not acquire ownership but obtained leases for a number of years on the land they held under their lord. This made them less dependent on him. The great lords seem to have viewed this lesser group’s growing prosperity and independence with spite and contempt. They readily agreed to let the ruler tax them. In some countries the tax applied only to land owned under a low-status tenure. In that case the taille was called real. The land tax introduced by the late king of Sardinia, and the taille in Languedoc, Provence, Dauphine, and Britanny, in the generality of Montauban, and in the elections of Agen and Condom, as well as other French districts, tax land owned under such a tenure. In other countries, the tax was based on the supposed profits of everyone farming leased land owned by someone else, regardless of the owner’s form of tenure. In that case the taille was called personal. This is the kind of taille found in most French provinces known as the countries of elections. Because the real taille applies to only some of a country’s land, it is inevitably unequal. It is not always arbitrary, though sometimes it is. The personal taille aims to track the profits of a particular group, but those profits can only be guessed at. It is therefore inevitably both arbitrary and unequal.
At present (1775), the annual personal taille imposed on the twenty French generalities known as the countries of elections is 40,107,239 livres, 16 sous. [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc tom. ii, p.17.] The share charged to each province changes each year. It depends on reports to the king’s council about how good or bad the harvest has been and about other circumstances that might raise or lower its ability to pay. Each generality is divided into several elections. The share charged to each election also changes each year, based on reports to the council about its ability to pay. Even with the best intentions, the council seems unable to match either assessment reasonably closely to a province’s or district’s real ability to pay. Ignorance and false information will always mislead even the most honest council to some degree. The shares that each parish must pay of its election’s assessment, and that each person must pay of the parish’s assessment, also change from year to year as circumstances supposedly require. Election officers judge the circumstances for parishes, and parish officers judge them for individuals. Both groups are more or less under the intendant’s direction and influence. It is said that ignorance and false information often mislead these assessors, as do friendship, political hostility, and private grudges. Clearly, no one subject to this tax can know what they will owe before assessment. They cannot even be sure afterward. Someone wrongly taxed despite being exempt, or charged more than their share, must pay for now. If their complaint succeeds, the whole parish is assessed again the following year to repay them. If a contributor goes bankrupt or cannot pay, the collector must advance the tax. The whole parish is assessed again the next year to repay the collector. If the collector goes bankrupt, the parish that chose him is responsible to the election’s receiver-general. Rather than pursue the whole parish, the receiver may select five or six of its richest contributors and make them cover the loss. The parish is then assessed again to repay those five or six. All these additional assessments come on top of the taille for the year in which they are charged.
When a tax is placed on profits from stock in a particular trade, its dealers take care not to bring more goods to market than they can sell at prices that recover the tax they advanced. Some withdraw part of their stock from that trade, leaving the market with fewer goods. Prices rise, and consumers ultimately pay the tax. A tax on profits from agricultural stock works differently. Farmers have no reason to withdraw stock from farming. Each farmer rents a certain amount of land and needs a certain amount of stock to cultivate it properly. Taking away any of that necessary stock will not make the farmer better able to pay the rent or the tax. Cutting production to pay the tax, and therefore bringing fewer goods to market, can never be in the farmer’s interest. So the tax cannot let farmers raise the price of their produce and pass its ultimate cost to consumers. Yet farmers, like other dealers, must earn a reasonable profit or leave the business. Once this tax is imposed, they can earn that profit only by paying their landlords less rent. The more they must pay in tax, the less rent they can afford. Imposing such a tax in the middle of a lease may certainly put the farmer in difficulty or ruin them. When the lease is renewed, the burden must always fall on the landlord.
Where the personal taille applies, a farmer is usually assessed according to the stock they appear to use in cultivation. Farmers therefore often fear keeping a good team of horses or oxen. Instead, they try to farm with the poorest, most miserable equipment they can use. They distrust the fairness of their assessors so much that they pretend to be poor and want to look barely able to pay anything, for fear of being made to pay too much. This wretched strategy may not serve their interests very well. They probably lose more from reduced production than they save on tax. Poor cultivation undoubtedly leaves the market somewhat less well supplied. But any resulting small price rise is unlikely even to compensate farmers for their lost output, much less allow them to pay landlords more rent. The public, the farmer, and the landlord all suffer to some extent from this degraded cultivation. As I have already noted in the third book of this Inquiry, the personal taille discourages cultivation in many ways. It therefore dries up the main source of wealth in every large country.
What are called poll taxes in the southern provinces of North America and the West India islands are annual taxes of a fixed amount per enslaved Black person. Properly speaking, they tax the profits of a kind of stock used in agriculture. Since most planters are both farmers and landlords, they ultimately pay the tax as landlords, without being repaid.
Taxes charged per bondman employed in cultivation seem once to have been common across Europe. Russia still has such a tax. Perhaps that is why poll taxes of every kind have often been called marks of slavery. Yet for the person who pays it, every tax is a mark not of slavery but of freedom. It shows that the person is subject to government, but also that a person who owns some property cannot themselves be owned by a master. A poll tax on enslaved people is entirely different from one on free people. The tax on free people is paid by the people taxed; the tax on enslaved people is paid by someone else. The former is either completely arbitrary or completely unequal, and usually both. The latter is unequal in some ways, since enslaved people have different market values, but it is not arbitrary. Every master knows how many enslaved people they own and exactly what they must pay. Because both taxes share a name, however, people have treated them as the same kind of tax.
Dutch taxes on male and female servants tax spending, not stock, and in that respect resemble taxes on consumable goods. Great Britain’s recently introduced tax of a guinea per male servant is similar. It falls hardest on people of moderate means. Someone with two hundred a year might employ one male servant. Someone with ten thousand a year will not employ fifty. The tax does not affect the poor.
Taxes on profits from stock in particular businesses can never affect the interest rate on money. No one will lend at a lower rate to people in taxed businesses than to people in untaxed ones. Taxes on revenue from stock in all businesses will often fall on interest when governments try to collect them with any precision. France’s vingtieme, or twentieth penny, is similar to England’s land tax. It is assessed in the same way on revenue from land, houses, and stock. Its assessment on stock is not very strict, but is much more precise than the English land tax’s assessment on that source of revenue. In many cases it falls entirely on interest. In France, money is often invested in what are called contracts for the constitution of a rent: perpetual annuities that debtors can redeem whenever they repay the original sum, but that creditors cannot demand be redeemed except in particular cases. The vingtieme does not seem to have raised the rate on these annuities, although it is levied precisely on all of them.
APPENDIX TO ARTICLES I. AND II.—Taxes on the Capital Value of Lands, Houses, and Stock.
While property remains with one owner, permanent taxes imposed on it have never been intended to reduce or take any of its capital value. They take only some of the revenue it produces. But when property changes hands, whether from the dead to the living or between living people, taxes have often been imposed that necessarily take away some 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 any kind of property from a dead person to a living person, and transfers of land and houses between living people, are public and well known by nature, or cannot be hidden for long. They can therefore be taxed directly. Transfers of stock or movable property between living people through loans are often secret and can always be made secret. So they are hard to tax directly. They have been taxed indirectly in two ways. First, a document promising repayment may be required to use paper or parchment on which a stamp duty has been paid, or it is invalid. Second, it may have to be entered in a public or secret register, again on pain of invalidity, with a fee charged for registration. Stamp and registration duties have also often applied to deeds transferring any property from the dead to the living, and land or houses between living people. Those transactions could easily have been taxed directly.
Augustus imposed the vicesima hereditatum, or twentieth penny of inheritances, on the ancient Romans. It taxed 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 writer whose account of it is least unclear, says it applied to all inheritances, legacies, and deathbed gifts, except those going to the closest relatives and the poor.
The Dutch inheritance tax is similar. [See Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom i, p. 225.] Inheritances going to relatives outside the direct line are taxed at rates from five to thirty per cent. of their whole value, depending on how closely the people are related. Gifts by will, or legacies, to those relatives face the same duties. Transfers from husband to wife or wife to husband are taxed at the fiftieth penny. The luctuosa hereditas, the mournful inheritance of ascendants to descendants, is taxed only at the twentieth penny. Direct inheritances, from descendants to ascendants, are untaxed. When a father dies, children living in his household seldom gain revenue, and often lose a great deal of it. They may lose the income from his work, his office, or a life-tenure estate he held. A tax that took away some of their inheritance and made this loss worse would be cruel and oppressive. Children whom Roman law calls emancipated and Scotch law calls foris-familiated may be different. They have received their share, started their own households, and live on resources separate from their father’s. Any inheritance they receive from him really increases their wealth. It might perhaps be taxed without causing more inconvenience than taxes of this kind normally cause. Feudal-law casualties were taxes on transfers of land both after death and between living people. In earlier times, they were a major source of crown revenue throughout Europe.
The heir of every direct vassal of the crown paid a duty, generally a year’s rent, to receive formal possession of the estate. If the heir was a minor, the superior received all the estate’s rents throughout the minority. The superior had only to maintain the child and pay the widow’s dower if a widow had a claim on the land. On reaching adulthood, the heir owed the superior another tax, called relief, also generally a year’s rent. Nowadays a long minority often clears a great estate of its debts and restores the family’s former prosperity. In those days it could do no such thing. Its usual result was to waste the estate rather than free it of debt.
Under feudal law a vassal could not sell or transfer land without the superior’s consent. The superior usually extracted a fine or payment for granting it. At first this fine could be set at will, but in many countries it came to be fixed as a share of the land’s price. In some countries where most other feudal practices have fallen out of use, the tax on transferring land still provides a substantial part of the ruler’s revenue. In the canton of Berne it is as high as one-sixth of the price of noble fiefs and one-tenth of the price of low-status fiefs. [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc, tom.i p.154] In the canton of Lucern the land-sale tax is not universal; it applies only in certain districts. But a person selling land to move out of the territory pays ten per cent. of the full sale price. [id. p.157.] Similar taxes on sales of all land, or of land held under certain forms of tenure, exist in many other countries and contribute varying amounts to rulers’ revenues.
Such transfers can be taxed indirectly through stamp duties or registration duties. Those duties may or may not be proportional to the value of the property transferred.
In Great Britain, stamp duties depend less on the value transferred than on the type of deed. An eighteen-penny or half-crown stamp, for example, suffices for a bond involving even the largest sum of money. The highest duty is no more than six pounds per sheet of paper or skin of parchment. These high duties mainly apply to grants from the crown and certain legal proceedings, regardless of the value involved. Great Britain has no duty for registering deeds or other documents apart from fees paid to the registry officers. Those fees are seldom more than fair payment for their work. The crown receives no revenue from them.
Holland [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom. i. p 223, 224, 225.] has both stamp and registration duties. In some cases they are proportional to the value transferred; in others they are not. Every will must be written on stamped paper whose price is proportional to the value of the property distributed. A stamp may cost as little as three pence or three stivers per sheet, or as much as three hundred florins, about twenty-seven pounds ten shillings in our money. If the testator uses a cheaper stamp than required, the inheritance is confiscated. This penalty comes on top of all the other inheritance taxes. Apart from bills of exchange and certain other commercial bills, all deeds, bonds, and contracts pay stamp duty. That duty does not rise in proportion to the value involved. Every sale of land or a house and every mortgage on either must be registered. Registration carries a state duty of two and a-half per cent. of the sale price or mortgage amount. The same duty applies to sales of all ships and vessels with a capacity of more than two tons, whether decked or not. These seem to be treated as houses on the water. Sales of movable goods ordered by a court also face a duty of two and a-half per cent.
France also has both stamp and registration duties. Stamp duties are treated as a branch of excise aid and collected by excise officers in the provinces where they apply. Registration duties are treated as part of the crown’s domain and collected by different officers.
Taxation through stamps and registration is a fairly recent invention. Yet in little more than a century stamp duties have become nearly universal in Europe, and registration duties have become very common. No skill is learned faster by one government from another than taking money out of people’s pockets.
Taxes on transfers of property from the dead to the living are paid, both immediately and ultimately, by the people who receive it. Taxes on land sales fall entirely on sellers. Sellers are almost always compelled to sell and must accept the price they can get. Buyers are hardly ever compelled to buy, so they offer only a price they are willing to pay. They consider the combined cost of the land and the tax. The more tax they must pay, the less they will offer for the land. Such taxes therefore almost always fall on someone in need, and can often be very cruel and oppressive. A tax on sales of newly built houses, when the building is sold without the land, usually falls on the buyer. Builders generally need to make a profit or quit the business. So buyers generally repay any tax that builders advance. A tax on sales of old houses usually falls on sellers for the same reason as a land-sale tax: convenience or necessity usually makes them sell. The number of newly built houses offered for sale each year depends more or less on demand. If demand does not let builders profit after covering all costs, they stop building houses. The number of old houses offered at any moment depends on chance events, mostly unrelated to demand. Two or three major bankruptcies in a trading town will put many houses on the market, and they must be sold for whatever price they fetch. Taxes on sales of ground-rents fall entirely on sellers, just as taxes on land sales do. Stamp and registration duties on bonds and contracts for borrowed money fall entirely on borrowers and are in fact always paid by them. The same kinds of duties on legal proceedings fall on the parties to the lawsuit. They reduce the capital value of the property in dispute for both parties. The more it costs to obtain property, the lower its net value once obtained.
All taxes on property transfers that reduce the property’s capital value tend to reduce the funds available to support productive labor. To varying degrees, they are wasteful taxes. They increase the ruler’s revenue, which seldom supports anyone but unproductive workers, at the expense of people’s capital, which supports only productive workers.
Even if these taxes are proportional to the property’s value, they remain unequal. Properties of equal value are not transferred equally often. If duties are not proportional to value, as most stamp and registration duties are not, they are still more unequal. They are not arbitrary, however: in every case their amount is, or can be, entirely clear and certain. They sometimes fall on people with limited means. But in most cases payment comes at a reasonably convenient time, when those people have just acquired more with which to pay. Collection costs very little. Apart from the unavoidable burden of payment itself, it generally causes contributors no inconvenience. In France, people complain little about stamp duties. They do complain about registration duties, which they call the Controle. It is said that the officers of the farmers-general who collect them often demand excessive amounts, making the tax largely arbitrary and uncertain. Abuses of the controle feature prominently in most pamphlets attacking France’s present financial system. Yet uncertainty does not seem inherent in taxes of this kind. If the complaints have a real basis, the abuse arises less from the tax itself than from unclear and imprecise wording in the edicts or laws imposing it.
Registering mortgages, and rights over land and buildings generally, gives creditors and buyers considerable security and greatly benefits the public. Registering most other kinds of deeds is often inconvenient and even dangerous for individuals, while offering the public no benefit. Any register that admittedly needs to be secret should surely not exist at all. A person’s credit should never depend on a safeguard as weak as the honesty and religious conscience of low-ranking revenue officers. But when registration fees become a source of revenue for a ruler, registry offices usually multiply without limit. They handle both deeds that should be registered and deeds that should not. France has several kinds of secret register. This abuse may not be inevitable, but it is certainly a natural result of such taxes.
English stamp duties on cards, dice, newspapers, periodical pamphlets, etc. are really taxes on consumption. People who use or consume the goods ultimately pay them. Stamp duties on licenses to sell ale, wine, and spirits at retail may be intended to fall on retailers’ profits. But consumers of the drinks ultimately pay these duties too. They share a name, collection officers, and method of collection with the stamp duties on property transfers discussed above. Yet they are quite different taxes and fall on quite different sources of revenue.
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
As I tried to show in the first book, wages for lower-paid workers are necessarily governed everywhere by two things: the demand for labor and the usual average price of provisions. Whether labor demand is rising, steady, or falling determines whether the population must rise, remain steady, or fall. It therefore determines whether workers can live comfortably, moderately, or sparsely. The usual average price of provisions determines how much money workers must receive to buy that standard of living from one year to the next. So if both labor demand and the price of provisions stay the same, a direct tax on wages can only raise wages by somewhat more than the tax. Suppose, for example, that demand and provision prices in a certain place make ten shillings a week the normal wage. Suppose wages are then taxed at one-fifth, or four shillings in the pound. If demand and prices do not change, workers there must still be able to buy provisions costing ten shillings a week. They therefore need ten shillings a week left after tax. To leave them that much, wages must soon rise not merely to twelve shillings a week, but to twelve and sixpence. To let a worker pay a tax of one-fifth, wages must rise not just by one-fifth but by one-fourth. Whatever the tax rate, wages must rise by more than that rate. If, for example, the tax is one-tenth, wages must soon rise not merely by one-tenth but by one-eighth.
Workers might physically hand over a direct wage tax, but they cannot really be said even to advance it, provided labor demand and average provision prices stay unchanged after the tax. In all such cases, employers actually advance both the tax and an additional amount. Who ultimately pays differs from case to case. A wage rise caused by such a tax in manufacturing is advanced by manufacturers. They are both entitled and obliged to add it, along with a profit, to their goods’ prices. Consumers ultimately pay both the wage increase and the manufacturer’s extra profit. A rise in farmworkers’ wages is advanced by farmers. To keep the same number of workers, farmers need more capital. To recover that extra capital plus the normal profits of stock, farmers must retain a larger share of the land’s produce, or the price of a larger share. They must therefore pay their landlords less rent. In this case landlords ultimately pay for the wage increase and the extra profit of the farmer who advanced it. In the long run, a direct tax on wages must always lower land rent more and raise manufactured-goods prices more than if a sum equal to the tax’s proceeds had instead been properly assessed partly on land rent and partly on consumable goods.
If direct wage taxes have not always raised wages by the expected proportion, it is because they have generally reduced labor demand substantially. Such taxes have usually caused industry to decline, reduced jobs for the poor, and cut the annual output of the country’s land and labor. Even so, wages must always be higher than they would otherwise have been at the resulting level of demand. Landlords and consumers ultimately pay this extra cost, along with the profits of those who advance it.
A tax on farmworkers’ wages does not raise the price of unprocessed produce from the land in proportion to the tax. This is for the same reason that a tax on farmers’ profits does not raise that price in the same proportion.
Despite being absurd and destructive, such taxes exist in many countries. In France, the portion of the taille charged on the work of tradespeople and day laborers in country villages is really such a tax. Their wages are calculated at the usual rate in their district. To minimize overcharging, 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 changes from year to year according to circumstances judged by the collector or the commissary whom the intendant appoints to assist the collector. In Bohemia, a change to public finances begun in 1748 led to a very heavy tax on the work of artisans. They are divided into four classes. The highest class pays a hundred florins a year. At two-and-twenty pence half penny a florin, that is £9:7:6. The second class pays seventy florins, the third fifty, and the fourth twenty-five florins. The last class includes village artisans and the lowest class of town artisans. [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom. iii. p. 87.]
As I tried to show in the first book, the pay of skilled artists and members of learned professions necessarily bears a certain relation to the earnings of lower-paid trades. A tax on their pay can therefore only raise it by somewhat more than the tax rate. If it did not rise this way, the skilled arts and learned professions would no longer be as rewarding as other trades. People would leave them until the pay again reached that level.
Unlike earnings from trades and professions, pay from public offices is not set by free market competition. It therefore does not always correspond fairly to the demands of the job. In most countries it may be higher than necessary: people running governments generally take more than enough care of themselves and those directly dependent on them. Pay for public office can therefore usually stand to be taxed. Besides, holders of public offices, especially highly paid ones, are widely envied in every country. So a tax on their pay is always popular, even if its rate is somewhat higher than that on other kinds of revenue. In England, for example, the land tax supposedly assessed all other kinds of revenue at four shillings in the pound. A real tax of five shillings and sixpence in the pound on salaries from offices paying more than a hundred pounds a year was therefore very popular. Exceptions were made for pensions of younger members of the royal family, the pay of army and navy officers, and a few others who aroused less envy. England has no other direct taxes on wages.
ARTICLE IV.—Taxes Intended to Fall Equally on Every Kind of Revenue.
Taxes intended to fall equally on every kind of revenue are capitation taxes and taxes on consumable goods. Contributors pay these taxes no matter where their revenue comes from: land rent, profits from stock, or wages.
Capitation Taxes.
If a capitation tax tries to match each contributor’s wealth or revenue, it becomes entirely arbitrary. A person’s wealth changes daily. It can only be guessed at without an investigation more unbearable than any tax, repeated at least every year. The assessment therefore usually depends on the assessor’s mood and is entirely arbitrary and uncertain.
If capitation taxes are based on each contributor’s rank instead of supposed wealth, they become entirely unequal. People of the same rank often have very different amounts of wealth.
Trying to make these taxes equal makes them completely arbitrary and uncertain. Trying to make them certain and nonarbitrary makes them completely unequal. Uncertainty is a major hardship whether the tax is light or heavy. People can tolerate considerable inequality in a light tax. In a heavy one it is unbearable.
During William III.’s reign, England imposed various poll taxes. Most contributors were assessed by rank: dukes, marquises, earls, viscounts, barons, esquires, gentlemen, eldest and youngest sons of peers, etc. All shopkeepers and tradespeople worth more than three hundred pounds—the better-off ones—paid the same assessment, however much their wealth differed. Rank counted more than wealth. Several people initially rated according to their supposed wealth were later rated by rank. Legal serjeants, attorneys, and proctors were assessed under the first poll tax at three shillings in the pound of their supposed income. Later they were assessed as gentlemen. For a tax that was not very heavy, substantial inequality had proved easier to bear than any uncertainty.
France has levied its capitation tax continuously since the beginning of the present century. Its highest social orders pay according to rank on a fixed scale. Lower orders pay according to supposed wealth on an assessment that changes each year. Royal court officers, judges and other officers of the higher courts, military officers, etc. pay under the first method. Lower-ranking people in the provinces pay under the second. In France, the wealthy readily accept considerable inequality in a tax that is not very heavy for them. But they would not tolerate an intendant deciding their assessments arbitrarily.
Lower-ranking people in that country must patiently endure whatever treatment their superiors choose to give them.
England’s various poll taxes never raised the amounts expected of them, or the amounts people thought they might have raised if collected exactly. In France, the capitation always raises the expected sum. When England’s more lenient government assessed people of different ranks for poll tax, it accepted the revenue the assessment happened to bring in. It demanded no compensation for losses from people who could not pay or refused to pay—and there were many who refused and were not forced to pay under the lenient application of the law. France’s stricter government charges each generality a set amount, which the intendant must find however possible. A province that complains of an excessive charge may receive a corresponding reduction in next year’s assessment, but must pay this year. To ensure collection of the required sum, the intendant could assess more than that sum. The extra payments from some contributors would cover failures or inability to pay among others. Until 1765, the amount of this excess was entirely at the intendant’s discretion. In that year the council took over that power. The well-informed author of the Memoirs upon the Impositions in France notes that, in the provincial capitation, the nobility and people whose privileges exempt them from the taille pay the smallest share. The largest share falls on those subject to the taille. Their capitation tax is assessed at a certain amount per pound of their taille payment. To the extent capitation taxes are charged to lower-ranking people, they are direct wage taxes with all the disadvantages such taxes bring.
Capitation taxes cost little to collect. Where rigorously enforced, they provide the state with a very reliable revenue. That is why they are common in countries that pay little attention to the comfort and security of lower-ranking people. In a great empire, however, these taxes have generally supplied only a small part of public revenue. Even the most they have ever raised could always have been found another way that was much more convenient for the people.
Taxes on Consumable Goods.
Capitation taxes cannot be made proportional to people’s revenue. This difficulty seems to have led to the invention of taxes on consumable goods. Unable to tax its subjects’ revenue directly and proportionally, the state tries to tax it indirectly through their spending. Spending is assumed to be roughly proportional to revenue in most cases. The state taxes spending by taxing the goods on which people spend their money.
Consumable goods are either necessities or luxuries.
By necessities I mean not only things indispensable for life, but also things that local custom makes it shameful for respectable people, even among the poorest, to go without. Strictly speaking, for example, a linen shirt is not necessary for life. The Greeks and Romans, I suppose, lived comfortably enough without linen. But today, in most of Europe, a respectable day laborer would be ashamed to appear in public without a linen shirt. Going without one would be seen as a sign of disgraceful poverty, which people assume no one reaches without exceptionally bad behavior. Likewise, custom has made leather shoes a necessity in England. The poorest respectable person, man or woman, would be ashamed to appear in public without them. In Scotland custom has made shoes necessary for even the poorest men, but not for women of the same rank, who can go barefoot without shame. In France they are necessary for neither men nor women. People of the lowest rank there sometimes appear in public wearing wooden shoes and sometimes barefoot, with no shame in either case. By necessities, then, I mean what nature requires and what accepted standards of decency require even of the poorest. I call everything else luxuries. I do not mean that using them in moderation deserves any criticism. Beer and ale in Great Britain, for example, and wine even in wine-producing countries, are luxuries in this sense. A person of any rank may abstain completely from those drinks without criticism. Nature does not require them to sustain life, and nowhere does custom make it shameful 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
Wages are set partly by the demand for labor and partly by the average price of the necessities of life. Anything that raises that average price must raise wages too. Workers must still be able to buy the amount of necessities that the demand for labor requires them to have, whether that demand is growing, steady, or falling. [See book i.chap. 8] A tax on necessities raises their price by more than the tax itself. Dealers who pay the tax in advance generally need to recover it with a profit. Such a tax therefore raises wages in proportion to the rise in price.
A tax on necessities thus works just like a direct tax on wages. A worker may hand over the money, but over any significant period cannot even be said to advance the tax. In the long run, the worker's immediate employer must advance it through higher wages. A manufacturer then adds the wage increase, plus a profit, to the price of the goods. The consumer ultimately pays both the tax and this extra charge. If the employer is a farmer, the final payment, including a similar extra charge, comes out of the landlord's rent.
Taxes on what I call luxuries work differently, even when poor people use them. Raising the price of these goods does not necessarily raise wages. A tax on tobacco, for example, does not raise wages, although tobacco is a luxury of poor and rich alike. It is taxed in England at three times its original price, and in France at fifteen times that price. Yet those high duties seem to have no effect on wages. The same can be said of taxes on tea and sugar, which even the lowest ranks in England and Holland now enjoy as luxuries. It also applies to chocolate, which is said to have reached that position in Spain.
The various taxes placed on spirits in Great Britain during the present century are not thought to have affected wages. An additional tax of three shillings per barrel of strong beer raised the price of porter, but did not raise ordinary wages in London. Those wages were about eighteen pence or twenty pence a day before the tax and are no higher now.
High prices for these goods do not necessarily make poorer people less able to raise families. For sober, hardworking poor people, such taxes act as laws against luxury. They lead people to cut back on, or give up, extras they can no longer easily afford. This enforced thrift may often increase, rather than reduce, their ability to raise families. Sober and hardworking poor people usually raise the largest families. They provide most of the labor that society needs. Of course, not all poor people are sober and hardworking. Reckless, disorderly people might keep buying these goods despite the price rise, ignoring the hardship it causes their families. But such people seldom raise large families. Their children generally die from neglect, bad care, or too little food or unhealthy food. Even if their strong constitutions let them survive the hardship caused by their parents' conduct, that example usually corrupts their character. Rather than benefiting society through work, they become a public burden through their vices and disorder. Higher prices for poor people's luxuries might therefore make these disorderly families somewhat worse off and somewhat less able to raise children. But they would probably do little to reduce the country's useful working population.
Any increase in the average price of necessities must make poor people less able to raise large families unless wages rise by the same proportion. It must therefore reduce their ability to supply needed labor, whatever the state of demand for that labor. This holds whether demand is growing, steady, or falling, and whether it calls for a growing, steady, or falling population.
Taxes on luxuries do not tend to raise the prices of goods other than the ones taxed. Taxes on necessities raise wages and thus tend to raise the prices of all manufactured goods, reducing how much of them people buy and use. Consumers ultimately pay taxes on luxuries without being repaid. Such taxes fall on every kind of revenue: wages, profits of stock, and rent from land. Taxes on necessities that affect working poor people are ultimately paid partly by landlords through lower rent, and partly by wealthy consumers, landlords or others, through higher prices for manufactured goods. They always pay a substantial extra charge as well. If a manufactured good is itself a necessity for poor people, such as coarse woolen cloth, its higher price must be covered by a further rise in their wages. Middle- and upper-ranking people should always oppose taxes on necessities and taxes on wages, if they understand their interests. They ultimately pay both types in full, always with a substantial extra charge. Landlords bear the most because they pay twice: as landlords through reduced rent, and as wealthy consumers through higher spending. Sir Matthew Decker was quite right to observe that some taxes can be repeated and added to prices four or five times over. This is true of taxes on necessities. When you buy leather shoes, for instance, you pay not only the tax on their leather but part of the tax on the leather used by the shoemaker and tanner. You also pay for the taxes on the salt, soap, and candles those workers use while serving you, and the tax on leather used by the saltmaker, soap-maker, and candle-maker while serving them.
In Great Britain, the main taxes on necessities are those on the four goods just mentioned: salt, leather, soap, and candles.
Salt has been taxed widely since ancient times. The Romans taxed it, and I believe every part of Europe taxes it now. Each person uses so little of it in a year and can buy it in such small amounts that people seem to have thought even a fairly heavy tax would hardly be felt. In England it is taxed at three shillings and fourpence a bushel, about three times its original price. Some countries tax it still more heavily. Leather is a genuine necessity. Wearing linen makes soap a necessity too. Where winter nights are long, candles are needed for work. In Great Britain, leather and soap are each taxed at three halfpence a pound, and candles at a penny. The tax is about eight or ten per cent. of the original price of leather, twenty or five-and-twenty per cent. of soap's, and fourteen or fifteen per cent. of candles'. These taxes are lighter than the salt tax but still very heavy. Since all four goods are necessities, such high taxes increase what sober, hardworking poor people must spend. Their wages must therefore rise to some extent.
In a country with winters as cold as Great Britain's, fuel is strictly necessary during winter. People need it both to cook and to keep many indoor workers comfortable enough to live and work. Coal is the cheapest fuel. Its price matters so much to labor costs that manufacturing throughout Great Britain is concentrated mainly in coal counties. Other areas cannot produce as cheaply because this necessity costs more there. Coal is also needed directly in making glass, iron, and all other metals. If a bounty on anything could be reasonable, it might be one for carrying coal from places that have plenty to places that need it. Instead, the legislature has taxed coal carried along the coast at three shillings and threepence a ton. For most kinds of coal this is more than sixty per cent. of the original pit price. Coal carried by land or inland waterways pays no duty. Where coal is naturally cheap, it is used tax-free. Where it is naturally expensive, a heavy tax is added.
These taxes raise the cost of living and therefore wages. But they also bring the government substantial revenue that might be hard to find elsewhere, so there may be good reasons to keep them. A bounty on corn exports, insofar as it raises the price of that necessity under present farming conditions, does all the same harm. Yet instead of raising revenue it often costs the government a great deal. High duties on foreign corn effectively prohibit its import in years with moderately plentiful supplies. The law also normally forbids importing live cattle or salted provisions. Because of scarcity, that outright prohibition is currently suspended for a limited time for Ireland and the British plantations. These rules all have the harmful effects of taxes on necessities but raise no government revenue. All that seems needed to repeal them is to convince the public that the system behind them is useless.
Many other countries tax necessities far more heavily than Great Britain. Many levy duties on flour and meal when they are ground at the mill and on bread when it is baked. In Holland, such taxes are thought to double the money price of bread eaten in towns. Instead of paying some of those taxes, rural residents pay an annual amount per person based on the kind of bread they are presumed to eat. Consumers of wheat bread pay three guilders fifteen stivers, about six shillings and ninepence halfpenny. These and similar taxes are said to have ruined most Dutch manufactures by raising labor costs [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. p. 210, 211.]. Similar, though somewhat lighter, taxes exist in the Milanese, the states of Genoa, the duchy of Modena, the duchies of Parma, Placentia, and Guastalla, and the Ecclesiastical state. A fairly well-known French author [Le Reformateur] has proposed fixing his country's finances by replacing most other taxes with this most ruinous kind. As Cicero says, there is nothing so absurd that some philosophers have not sometimes asserted it.
Taxes on butcher's meat are even more widespread than taxes on bread. It is open to question whether meat is necessary anywhere. Experience shows that grain and other vegetables, with milk, cheese, and butter—or oil where butter is unavailable—can provide an abundant, healthy, nourishing, strengthening diet without any meat. Standards of decency nowhere require a man to eat meat, although in most places they do require him to wear a linen shirt or leather shoes.
Consumable goods, whether necessities or luxuries, can be taxed in two ways. A consumer can pay a yearly sum for using goods of a certain kind. Or the goods can be taxed while dealers still hold them, before delivery to consumers. A yearly charge best suits goods that last a long time. A tax before delivery best suits goods used immediately or quickly. The coach tax and plate tax illustrate the first method; most other excise and customs duties illustrate the second.
With good care, a coach can last ten or twelve years. It could be taxed once when it leaves the coach-maker. But paying four pounds a year to keep it is certainly easier for a buyer than paying the coach-maker an extra forty or forty-eight pounds at once, or some other amount equal to the likely tax during the period of ownership. A set of silver plate can likewise last more than a century. Paying five shillings a year on every hundred ounces of plate, nearly one per cent. of its value, is easier than buying out that long-running annual charge at five-and-twenty or thirty years' purchase. That would raise the price by at least five-and-twenty or thirty per cent. Taxes on houses are likewise much easier to pay in moderate yearly installments than as one equally valuable but heavy tax when the house is first built or sold.
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 this way, even goods used immediately or quickly. Dealers would pay nothing in advance. Consumers would pay an annual fee for a license to use certain goods. He wanted to promote every branch of foreign trade, particularly the carrying trade, by removing import and export duties. Merchants could then use all their capital and credit to buy goods and pay for shipping instead of setting some aside to advance taxes. But this way of taxing goods consumed quickly has four serious problems. First, it would distribute the tax less evenly according to each person's spending and consumption than the usual method does. Taxes on ale, wine, and spirits are advanced by dealers but ultimately paid by consumers in exact proportion to how much they drink. With a license to drink, a moderate drinker would pay far more tax relative to consumption than a heavy drinker. A family that entertained many guests would pay much less tax relative to consumption than one that entertained fewer. Second, an annual, half-yearly, or quarterly license would largely remove a major convenience of taxes on goods consumed quickly: paying little by little. A pot of porter now costs threepence halfpenny. Taxes on malt, hops, and beer, plus the brewer's extra profit for advancing them, may account for about three halfpence of that price. A worker who can spare those three halfpence buys a pot. If not, he settles for a pint. Since a penny saved is a penny gained, this moderation saves him a farthing. He pays the tax in small amounts when he can afford to. Every payment is entirely voluntary, and he can avoid it if he chooses. Third, licenses would do less to discourage luxury. Once a buyer had paid, the tax would be the same whether he drank a lot or a little. Fourth, a worker who could easily pay small taxes on his pots and pints of porter over a year, half-year, or quarter might be badly strained by paying the same total all at once. It seems clear that this method could never raise nearly as much revenue as the present one without severe hardship, while the present method causes none. Still, some countries tax quickly consumed goods this way. In Holland, people pay a set amount per person for a license to drink tea. As noted earlier, bread eaten in farmhouses and country villages is taxed there in the same way.
Excise duties are mainly placed on domestic goods meant for domestic use. They apply only to a few widely used kinds of goods. There is never any doubt about which goods are taxed or the rate that applies to each kind. Almost all the duties fall on what I call luxuries. The exceptions are the four duties already mentioned on salt, soap, leather, and candles, and perhaps the duty on green glass.
Customs duties are much older than excise duties. They seem to have been named for payments established by long custom. At first they appear to have been viewed as taxes on merchants' profits. During the violent disorder of feudal times, merchants, like other town dwellers, were regarded as barely above freed serfs. People looked down on them personally and envied their earnings. Great nobles had agreed that the king could tax their tenants' profits. They were even more willing to let him tax merchants, whom they had less reason to protect. People then did not understand that merchants' profits cannot be taxed directly in this way. Nor did they understand that consumers ultimately pay such taxes, with a substantial extra charge.
Foreign merchants' earnings were regarded even less favorably than English merchants' earnings, so the foreigners were naturally taxed more heavily. Ignorance created this difference in duties. The desire for monopoly kept it in place, giving our merchants an advantage at home and abroad.
Apart from this distinction, ancient customs duties fell equally on every kind of good: necessities and luxuries, exports and imports. Why, people apparently thought, should dealers in one good be favored over dealers in another, or exporters over importers?
The old customs duties had three branches. The first, perhaps the oldest, taxed wool and leather, apparently mainly or entirely on export. Once clothmaking took root in England, woolen cloth exports were taxed too, lest the king lose wool duties when wool was exported as cloth. Another branch taxed wine by the ton and was called tonnage. The third taxed all other goods by the pound of their presumed value and was called poundage. In the forty-seventh year of Edward III., a duty of sixpence in the pound was placed on all imports and exports except wools, wool-felts, leather, and wines, which had separate duties. In the fourteenth of Richard II., the duty rose to one shilling in the pound. Three years later it returned to sixpence. It rose to eightpence in the second year of Henry IV. and to one shilling in his fourth year. From then until the ninth year of William III., it remained one shilling in the pound. Parliament usually granted tonnage and poundage to the king in the same act, calling the combined grant the subsidy of tonnage and poundage. Since poundage stayed at one shilling in the pound, or five per cent., for so long, customs officials came to use “subsidy” to mean a general duty of five per cent. This original charge, now called the old subsidy, is still levied under the book of rates established in the twelfth of Charles II. Valuing taxed goods by a book of rates 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., with each supplying its stated fraction. The subsidy of 1747 added a fourth five per cent. on most goods, and that of 1759 added a fifth on certain goods. Beyond these five subsidies, many other duties have sometimes been placed on particular goods, partly to meet government needs and partly to regulate trade according to the mercantile system.
That system has gradually become more fashionable. The old subsidy applied equally to imports and exports. With a few exceptions, the next four subsidies and later duties on particular goods applied only to imports. Most old duties on exports of domestic products and manufactures have been lowered or removed; usually they have been removed entirely. Some exports have even received bounties. When foreign goods are re-exported, the importer can also get back all or part of the duties paid on import. Only half the old subsidy's import duties are returned on export. But for most goods, all the duties imposed by the later subsidies and other charges are returned. There are only a few exceptions to this growing encouragement of exports and discouragement of imports. They mainly concern materials used in manufacturing. Our merchants and manufacturers want these materials as cheap as possible for themselves and as expensive as possible for rivals abroad. For that reason, foreign materials such as spanish wool, flax, and raw linen yarn can sometimes enter duty-free. Exports of domestic materials and materials produced particularly in our colonies have sometimes been forbidden and sometimes taxed more heavily. Exports of English wool have been forbidden. Beaver skins, beaver wool, and gum-senega face higher export duties, since the conquests of Canada and Senegal gave Great Britain almost a monopoly of these goods.
I tried to show in the fourth book of this Inquiry that the mercantile system has not helped the revenue of the people as a whole: the country's annual output from land and labor. It seems no more helpful to the sovereign's revenue, at least where that revenue comes from customs duties.
Under this system, imports of several kinds of goods have been banned outright. Sometimes this has stopped imports entirely; in other cases it has greatly reduced them by forcing importers to smuggle. It has stopped all imports of foreign woolens and greatly reduced imports of foreign silks and velvets. In both cases it has wiped out the customs revenue that could have been collected on these imports.
High duties on many foreign imports, meant to discourage their use in Great Britain, have often done nothing but encourage smuggling. In every case they have produced less customs revenue than moderate duties would have done. Dr Swift's saying that in customs arithmetic two and two sometimes make only one rather than four is exactly right for these heavy duties. They would never have been imposed had the mercantile system not taught us to use taxes to create monopolies rather than revenue.
Bounties for exporting domestic goods and refunds of duties when most foreign goods are re-exported have led to many frauds. They have also encouraged a kind of smuggling more damaging to public revenue than any other. Goods are sometimes loaded on ships and sent to sea to claim a bounty or refund, then secretly brought ashore elsewhere in the country. The resulting loss of customs revenue is very large, since much of the money paid in bounties and refunds is obtained fraudulently. Gross customs receipts for the year ending on the 5th of January 1755 were £5,068,000. Bounties paid from these receipts, although there was no bounty on corn that year, were £167,806. Refunds paid on debentures and certificates were £2,156,800. Together bounties and refunds were £2,324,600. After those deductions, customs revenue was only £2,743,400. Subtract £287,900 for administration, including salaries and other costs, and net customs revenue was £2,455,500. Administration thus cost between five and six per cent. of gross customs receipts, and more than ten per cent. of what remained after bounties and refunds.
Because heavy duties apply to almost every import, our importing merchants smuggle as much as they can and declare as little as possible. Exporters, in contrast, declare more than they actually ship. Sometimes they do it out of vanity, to look like large dealers in untaxed goods; sometimes they do it to claim a bounty back. Because of both types of fraud, the customs records show exports far exceeding imports. This greatly pleases politicians who judge national prosperity by what they call the balance of trade.
All imports are subject to some customs duties unless specifically exempted, and few are exempt. Goods absent from the book of rates are taxed at 4s:9¾d. for every twenty shillings of value sworn to by the importer. That is nearly five subsidies, or five poundage duties. The book of rates is extremely long. It lists many articles that are rarely used and thus little known. Often it is unclear which entry covers a given good and therefore which duty it owes. A mistake can sometimes ruin a customs officer and often causes the importer trouble, expense, and frustration. Customs duties are therefore far less clear, exact, and distinct than excise duties.
Most members of society can contribute to public revenue in proportion to their spending without taxing every item they buy. Excise revenue is thought to fall just as evenly on contributors as customs revenue does, although excise duties apply only to a few widely used goods. Many people believe that, with proper administration, customs duties too could be limited to a few goods. This could benefit foreign trade greatly without reducing public revenue.
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 now most widely used in Great Britain appear to be wines and brandies; American and West Indian products such as sugar, rum, tobacco, cocoa-nuts, etc.; and East Indian products such as tea, coffee, china-ware, spices of every kind, several kinds of piece-goods, etc. These goods probably supply most customs revenue at present. Apart from taxes on the few foreign manufactures on this list, most current taxes on foreign manufactures aim not to raise revenue but to create a monopoly. They give our merchants an advantage in the home market. We could remove every import ban and tax all foreign manufactures at moderate rates found through experience to yield the most public revenue for each good. Our workers could still have a substantial advantage at home. And many goods that now yield little or no government revenue could yield a great deal.
High taxes often bring the government less revenue than moderate ones. Sometimes they cut consumption of the taxed goods; sometimes they encourage smuggling.
If revenue falls because consumption falls, the only solution is to lower the tax. If it falls because smuggling increases, there may be two solutions: reduce the incentive to smuggle or make smuggling harder. Only a lower tax reduces the incentive. Only a system of administration best suited to preventing smuggling makes it harder.
Experience, I believe, shows that excise laws hinder smugglers much more effectively than customs laws do. Customs could make smuggling much harder by adopting an administrative system as much like the excise system as the different types of duties allow. Many people think this change could be made quite easily.
They propose giving importers of goods subject to customs duties a choice. They could put the goods in their own private warehouse. Or they could place them in a warehouse provided at their expense or the public's, locked by a customs officer and opened only in that officer's presence. Importers choosing their own warehouses would pay duty at once, with no later refund. Customs officers could inspect those warehouses at any time to check that the amount of goods present matched the amount on which duty had been paid. Importers choosing the public warehouse would pay no duty until they removed goods for domestic use. Goods removed for export would be duty-free, provided proper security was given that they would actually be exported. Wholesale and retail dealers in these goods would also face inspections at any time. Certificates would have to show that duty had been paid on all the goods in their shops or warehouses. The duties called excise on imported rum are already collected this way. Perhaps the same method could apply to all duties on imports, as long as those duties, like excise, covered only a few kinds of goods in wide use. If duties still covered almost all goods, public warehouses big enough for them would be hard to provide. Merchants could not safely entrust delicate goods, or goods needing careful storage, to warehouses other than their own.
Suppose this system could prevent substantial smuggling even when duties were fairly high. Suppose each duty was raised or lowered as needed to maximize government revenue, and taxes were used only to raise revenue, never to create a monopoly. Then it seems possible that duties on only a few widely used imports could bring in at least as much as today's net customs revenue. Customs duties would become as simple, certain, and precise as excise duties. The government would stop losing the refunds it now pays when foreign goods supposedly exported are secretly brought back and used at home. That saving alone would be substantial. Add the removal of all bounties on exports of domestic goods, except those bounties that really refund excise duties previously paid, and there is little doubt that net customs revenue after this change could be at least as high as ever.
If this change caused no loss of public revenue, the country's trade and manufacturing would gain considerably. The vast majority of goods would be untaxed and could be traded freely with all parts of the world. That group would include every necessity of life and every manufacturing material. Free imports of necessities would lower their average money price in the home market. That would lower money wages without lowering workers' real pay at all. Money's value depends on how many necessities it can buy; the value of necessities does not depend on the amount of money received for them. Lower money wages would bring a corresponding drop in the prices of all domestic manufactures, giving them an advantage abroad. Free imports of raw materials would lower the prices of some manufactures even further. If raw silk from China and Indostan could enter duty-free, English silk manufacturers could sell much more cheaply than manufacturers in both France and Italy. There would be no need to ban foreign silks and velvets. Our workers' cheaper goods would secure both the home market and a large share of foreign markets. Even trade in taxed goods would work much better than it does now. When those goods left a public warehouse for export, they would pay no tax and their trade would be completely free. The carrying trade in all goods would have every possible advantage. For goods released for domestic use, importers would not have to advance the tax until they could sell to a dealer or consumer. They could therefore always sell for less than if they had paid the tax on import. Even under the same taxes, foreign trade supplying domestic consumers with taxed goods could operate much more effectively than it does now.
Sir Robert Walpole's famous excise scheme aimed to set up a similar system for wine and tobacco. Though his bill in Parliament covered only those two goods, people generally believed it was the start of a wider scheme. Political factions, joined by merchants who profited from smuggling, stirred up fierce but unjust public opposition. The minister dropped the bill. Fear of similar opposition has kept every successor from bringing the plan back.
Duties on foreign luxuries imported for domestic use sometimes fall on poor people, but mainly on people of middle or higher means. Examples include duties on foreign wines, coffee, chocolate, tea, sugar, etc.
Duties on cheaper domestically produced luxuries for domestic use fall fairly evenly on all ranks according to their spending. Poor people pay the duties on malt, hops, beer, and ale that they consume. Rich people pay them on both their own consumption and their servants'.
In every country, the total consumption of people below the middle rank is much greater than that of the middle and upper ranks, both in amount and in value. Their total spending is much greater too. First, almost all a country's capital is paid out every year to the lower ranks as wages for productive labor. Second, a large share of the revenue from land rent and profits of stock goes to the same ranks as wages and support for domestic servants and other unproductive workers. Third, some profits of stock also belong to lower-ranking people, earned through their small amounts of capital. The combined annual profits of small shopkeepers, tradespeople, and retailers of every kind are substantial everywhere. They make up a substantial share of annual output. Fourth, even some land rent belongs to these people: a considerable share goes to people a little below the middle rank and a small share even to the lowest rank. Ordinary workers sometimes own an acre or two of land. Each lower-ranking person may spend very little, but together they always account for by far the largest share of society's spending. What remains of the country's annual output from land and labor for consumption by the upper ranks is much smaller, both in amount and in value. Taxes on spending that fall mainly on the upper ranks therefore affect the smaller portion of annual output. They are likely to raise much less than taxes that fall on all ranks or mainly on the lower ranks, affecting all annual output or its larger portion. Among all taxes on spending, excise on the ingredients and production of domestically made fermented drinks and spirits is therefore by far the most productive. Much of it, perhaps most, falls on ordinary people's spending. In the year ending on the 5th of July 1775, this branch of excise yielded £3,341,837:9:9 before deductions.
We must remember, however, that only lower-ranking people's luxuries should ever be taxed, not their necessities. Upper-ranking people would ultimately pay the whole of any tax on necessities bought by the lower ranks. It would fall on the smaller, not the larger, portion of annual output. Any such tax would either raise wages or reduce demand for labor. If it raised wages, upper-ranking people would ultimately pay it. If it reduced demand for labor, it would reduce the country's annual output from land and labor, the fund that ultimately pays all taxes. However far the tax reduced demand for labor, wages would still be higher than they would otherwise be at that level of demand. Upper-ranking people would ultimately pay for that increase too.
In Great Britain, fermented drinks brewed and spirits distilled for private use rather than sale pay no excise duties. This exemption aims to spare private households the unwelcome inspection of tax collectors. It often makes these duties much less burdensome for the rich than for the poor. Distilling at home is not very common, though it sometimes happens. But in the countryside, many middle-ranking families and nearly all rich and prominent families brew their own beer. A barrel of their strong beer therefore costs them eight shillings less than it costs a commercial brewer, who needs to earn a profit on the tax as well as on his other expenses. Such families drink beer at least nine or ten shillings a barrel cheaper than ordinary people can buy beer of equal quality. Ordinary people find it more convenient to buy small amounts from a brewery or alehouse. Malt made for private household use is likewise not inspected by the tax collector. In that case, though, the family must pay a fixed tax of seven shillings and sixpence per person. Seven shillings and sixpence equal the excise on ten bushels of malt, fully as much as the men, women, and children of any sober family are likely to consume on average. Yet in large, rich households that frequently entertain country guests, family members drink only a small share of the household's total malt liquor. Whether because of this fixed payment or for other reasons, making malt privately is nowhere near as common as brewing privately. It is hard to see any fair reason why people brewing or distilling for private use should not have to make a similar fixed payment.
It has often been said that a much lighter tax on malt could raise more revenue than all the present heavy taxes on malt, beer, and ale. A brewery offers far more chances to cheat the government than a malt-house does. And people brewing privately are exempt from all duties and fixed payments in place of duties, while people making malt privately are not.
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 usually makes more than two and a-half barrels of porter, and sometimes three barrels. The various taxes on malt total six shillings a-quarter, while those on strong ale and beer total eight shillings a-barrel. So in a porter brewery, the taxes on malt, beer, and ale add up to between twenty-six and thirty shillings on what a quarter of malt produces. A country brewery selling locally seldom gets less than two barrels of strong beer and one barrel of small beer from a quarter of malt. It often gets two barrels and a-half of strong beer. The taxes on small beer total one shilling and fourpence a-barrel. So in a country brewery, taxes on malt, beer, and ale seldom add up to less than twenty-three shillings and fourpence, and often reach twenty-six shillings, on what a quarter of malt produces. Across the whole kingdom, the total taxes 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 it is said that removing all the taxes on beer and ale and tripling the malt tax—from six to eighteen shillings per quarter of malt—would raise more revenue from this one tax than all those heavier taxes now raise.
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 this add the average malt tax........ 958,895: 3: 0¼
The total of these different taxes comes to........£2,595,835: 7: 10
But tripling the malt tax, raising it from six to eighteen shillings per quarter of malt, would make that one tax yield.....£2,876,685: 9: 0 That exceeds the preceding amount by.... 280,832: 1: 3
The old malt tax does include a tax of four shillings on a hogshead of cider and another of ten shillings on a barrel of mum. In 1774, the cider tax brought in only £3,083:6:8. That was probably a little below its usual amount, since all the taxes on cider brought in less than usual that year. The tax on mum is much higher but brings in even less, because people drink less of it. Yet other taxes included in what is called the country excise should more than offset the usual proceeds of these two taxes. They are, first, the old excise of six shillings and eightpence on a hogshead of cider; second, a similar tax of six shillings and eightpence on a hogshead of verjuice; third, eight shillings and ninepence on a hogshead of vinegar; and fourth, elevenpence on a gallon of mead or metheglin. The revenue from these taxes will probably more than offset the duties that the so-called annual malt tax places on cider and mum.
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 a quarter, it might be necessary to reduce some of the excise taxes on kinds of low wines and spirits made partly from malt. Malt usually makes up only a third of the ingredients in so-called malt spirits. The other two-thirds are either raw barley or one-third barley and one-third wheat. There is much more opportunity and incentive to smuggle at a malt-spirit distillery than at a brewery or a malt-house. The product is less bulky and more valuable, providing the opportunity; and the higher duties, which totaled 3s. 10 ⅔d. per gallon of spirits, provide the incentive. [Although the duties imposed directly on proof spirits amount to only 2s. 6d per gallon, adding the duties on the low wines from which they are distilled brings the total to 3s 10 ⅔d. To prevent fraud, low wines and proof spirits are now both assessed according to how much they gauge in the wash.]
Raising the duties on malt and lowering those on distilling would reduce both the opportunity and the incentive to smuggle. That could increase revenue still further.
For some time, Great Britain has tried to discourage drinking spirits because they are thought to damage ordinary people's health and morals. Under this policy, taxes on distilling should not be cut enough to lower the price of spirits at all. Spirits could remain just as expensive, while the price of the wholesome, strengthening drinks beer and ale could fall considerably. People could then get some relief from one of the burdens they complain about most, while revenue could rise considerably.
Dr Davenant's objections to this proposed change in excise duties seem groundless. He says that, instead of being spread fairly evenly across the profits of the maltster, brewer, and retailer as they are now, the taxes would fall entirely on the maltster's profit, to the extent they affect profit at all. He says the maltster could not recover the tax as easily by raising the price of malt as brewers and retailers can by raising drink prices. And he says that such a high malt tax might reduce the rent and profit of land growing barley.
No tax can lower the rate of profit in any one trade for long. That rate must stay in line with other nearby trades. Today's duties on malt, beer, and ale do not reduce the dealers' profits: all these dealers recover the tax, plus an additional profit, through higher prices. A tax can, of course, make a product so expensive that people buy less of it. But malt is consumed in malt drinks, and a tax of eighteen shillings per quarter of malt would hardly make those drinks more expensive than the various taxes totaling twenty-four or twenty-five shillings do now. Instead, those drinks would probably get cheaper, so consumption would be more likely to increase than decrease.
It is hard to see why maltsters would have more difficulty recovering eighteen shillings through a higher malt price than brewers now have recovering twenty-four or twenty-five, and sometimes thirty, shillings through higher drink prices. Maltsters would have to pay eighteen shillings rather than six in tax up front on each quarter of malt. But brewers now have to pay twenty-four or twenty-five, sometimes thirty, shillings up front on each quarter of malt they brew. Paying the smaller tax up front could not be more inconvenient for maltsters than paying the larger one is now for brewers. Maltsters do not always hold a stock of malt in their granaries that takes longer to sell than the stock of beer and ale brewers often hold in their cellars. So maltsters can often recover their money as quickly as brewers. Any inconvenience maltsters did face from having to pay a higher tax up front could easily be remedied by giving them a few more months of credit than brewers now usually receive.
Nothing could lower the rent and profit of barley land without lowering demand for barley. But a reform cutting 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 reduce it. Moreover, the rent and profit of land growing barley must always be nearly equal to those of other land that is just as fertile and 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 usual price of a particular crop is what we might call a monopoly price, a tax on that crop must lower the rent and profit of the land that grows it. Consider prized vineyards whose wine falls so far short of effective demand that its price is always higher than the natural proportion to crops from other land that is just as fertile and well cultivated. A tax on their wine would necessarily lower their rent and profit. The wine already sells at the highest price obtainable for the amount usually sent to market. Its price could not go higher without sending less wine to market; and sending less would cause an even greater loss, because the land could not produce anything else of equal value. The entire tax would therefore fall on rent and profit, or, more precisely, on vineyard rent. Whenever a new sugar tax has been proposed, our sugar planters have often complained that the producer, not the consumer, bears its full weight. They say they have never been able to raise the price of sugar above its pre-tax level. Apparently that price was already a monopoly price. Arguments meant to show that sugar was a poor choice for taxation may instead have shown that it was a good one: when they can be reached, monopolists' gains are surely the best possible subject for taxation. But the usual price of barley has never been a monopoly price. The rent and profit of barley land have never exceeded their natural proportion to those of other land that is just as fertile and well cultivated. The various taxes on malt, beer, and ale have never lowered the price of barley or the rent and profit of barley land. The price brewers pay for malt has consistently risen in step with the taxes on it. Those taxes, along with the duties on beer and ale, have consistently either raised prices for consumers or, which has the same effect, lowered the drinks' quality. The consumer, not the producer, has always paid these taxes in the end.
The only people likely to lose from this proposed reform are those who brew beer for their own use. But this higher social rank now enjoys an exemption from very heavy taxes paid by poor laborers and artisans. That exemption is surely unfair and unequal. It ought to end even if the reform itself never happens. Yet the interests of this higher rank have probably prevented a change that could hardly fail both to increase revenue and to relieve the people.
Besides the customs and excise duties already mentioned, several other duties affect prices less evenly and less directly. These include duties called peages in French and duties of passage in old Saxon times. They seem to have begun for the same purpose as our turnpike tolls and the tolls on canals and navigable rivers: maintaining the road or waterway. For that purpose, these duties are best charged by the bulk or weight of the goods. They began as local and provincial duties for local and provincial purposes. So their management was usually entrusted to the town, parish, or lordship where they were collected, since those communities were thought to be accountable in some way for spending the money. In many countries, the sovereign, who is accountable to no one, has taken over these duties. He has generally raised them a great deal and, in many cases, entirely neglected their intended use. If Great Britain's turnpike tolls ever become a government revenue source, other nations' experience shows us what will probably happen. Consumers ultimately pay these tolls, of course. But when the toll depends on the bulk or weight, rather than the value, of what a person consumes, it does not tax people in proportion to their spending. If instead the duty is charged on the goods' supposed value, it becomes a kind of inland customs duty or excise. This greatly obstructs the most important branch of commerce: trade within the country.
Some small states impose duties like these passage duties on goods traveling across their territory, by land or water, from one foreign country to another. In some countries these are called transit duties. A few small Italian states along the Po and the rivers feeding it earn some revenue from such duties. Foreigners pay all of them. Perhaps these are the only duties a state can impose on another state's people without obstructing its own industry or commerce in any way. The world's most important transit duty is the one the king of Denmark collects from every merchant ship 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, including most customs and excise duties, can be paid out of every kind of revenue. Whoever consumes the taxed goods ultimately pays them and gets no reimbursement. Yet they do not always take an equal or proportional share of each person's revenue. People choose how much to consume according to their tastes. So they contribute more according to taste than income: free spenders pay more, and frugal people less, than their proportionate share. A young heir to a large fortune usually contributes very little through consumption to the state that protects the source of his large revenue. People living abroad contribute nothing through consumption to the government of the country where their revenue originates. Suppose that country has no land tax and no substantial duty on transfers of movable or immovable property, as in Ireland. Absentee owners can then receive large revenues under the government's protection without paying a single shilling toward its support. This inequality is likely to be greatest where one country's government is partly subordinate to and dependent on another's. Owners of the most extensive property in the dependent country will generally prefer to live in the governing country. That is exactly Ireland's position, so it is no wonder that taxing absentee owners is a very popular proposal there. It might be somewhat difficult to decide what kind or length of absence makes someone taxable as an absentee, or exactly when the tax begins and ends. Outside this special situation, though, any inequality in what individuals contribute through luxury taxes is more than offset by the very thing causing it: each person's contribution is entirely voluntary. Everyone can choose whether to buy the taxed goods. When such taxes are properly assessed on suitable goods, people therefore complain about them less than about any others. A merchant or manufacturer pays the tax up front, and the consumer ultimately pays it. Soon the consumer treats it as part of the price and almost forgets it is a tax. These taxes are, or can be, entirely certain. They can be assessed so there is no doubt about the amount due or the time to pay it. Any uncertainty in British customs duties or similar duties elsewhere does not come from the nature of the duties. It comes from the imprecise or poorly drafted law imposing them.
Taxes on luxuries generally are, and can always be, paid little by little, as people buy the taxed goods. In both timing and method of payment, they are or can be the most convenient taxes of all. Overall, then, they may satisfy the first three of the four general principles of taxation as well as any tax can. They violate the fourth in every way.
For the amount they bring into the state treasury, these taxes always take or keep more money out of people's pockets than almost any other taxes. They appear to do so in all four possible ways.
First, even wisely designed taxes of this kind require many customs and excise officers. Their salaries and extra payments impose a real cost on the people without bringing anything into the state treasury. This cost, it must be admitted, is lower in Great Britain than in most other countries. In the year ending on the 5th of July, 1775, the gross revenue from duties administered by England's excise commissioners was £5,507,308:18:8¼. The cost of collecting it was only a little over five and a-half per cent. But bounties and drawbacks paid on exports of excisable goods must be subtracted from this gross amount, bringing net revenue below five millions. [The net revenue that year, after all costs and allowances were deducted, was £4,975,652:19:6.] Collecting the salt duty, also an excise duty but administered separately, is much more expensive. Net customs revenue is less than two millions and a-half, and officers' salaries and other expenses of collecting it exceed ten per cent. But customs officers everywhere receive extra payments far greater than their salaries. At some ports these are more than double or triple their salaries. So if salaries and other expenses exceed ten per cent. of net customs revenue, total collection costs, including both salaries and extra payments, may exceed twenty or thirty per cent. Excise officers receive few or no extra payments. The excise administration is also newer and generally less corrupt than customs administration, where long practice has brought in and legitimized many abuses. It is thought that putting all the revenue now collected on malt and malt drinks onto malt alone could save more than £50,000 in yearly excise costs. Limiting customs duties to a few kinds of goods, and collecting them under excise laws, could probably save much more in yearly customs costs.
Second, these taxes necessarily hinder or discourage some branches of industry. They always raise the taxed product's price and thus discourage its consumption and, in turn, its production. If the product is grown or made at home, less labor is used to grow or make it. If it is an imported product, raising its price by tax may indeed help similar goods made at home compete in the home market. More domestic workers might then be employed in making those goods. But while the higher imported price can encourage one branch of domestic industry, it necessarily discourages almost every other branch. The more a Birmingham manufacturer pays for foreign wine, the less he effectively receives for the hardware he exchanges for it, or sells to get the money to buy it. That hardware is worth less to him, giving him less reason to make it. Likewise, the more consumers in one country pay for another country's surplus products, the less they effectively receive for the part of their own surplus products they exchange for them or sell to pay for them. Their own surplus is worth less to them, giving them less reason to produce more. Taxes on consumer goods therefore tend to reduce productive labor below the level it would otherwise reach. They do so either in making the taxed goods, if those are domestic, or in making the goods exchanged for them, if they are foreign. Such taxes also shift the natural direction of national industry to a different, usually less advantageous, course than it would have followed on its own.
Third, the hope of avoiding these taxes through smuggling often leads to confiscations and other penalties that completely ruin smugglers. A smuggler is certainly blameworthy for breaking his country's laws. Yet he is often someone who could never violate natural justice and would have been an excellent citizen in every way if his country's laws had not made a crime of something that nature never meant to be one. Under corrupt governments widely suspected of needless spending and serious misuse of public revenue, people have little respect for the laws protecting that revenue. Few people have moral objections to smuggling when they find a safe, easy opportunity to do it without lying under oath. In most countries, someone who claims to object to buying smuggled goods would be seen as pompously hypocritical. Buying them plainly encourages both violations of revenue laws and the perjury that almost always accompanies those violations. But claiming to object would win no one's respect; it would only make others suspect the person of being a bigger crook than most neighbors. This public tolerance often encourages smugglers to continue a trade they have learned to see as somewhat innocent. When harsh revenue laws threaten them, they are then often willing to defend violently what they have come to regard as their rightful property. A person who began by being perhaps more imprudent than criminal too often ends up among society's boldest and most determined lawbreakers. When a smuggler is ruined, his capital, formerly used to support productive labor, is absorbed into either state revenue or a revenue officer's income. It then supports unproductive people instead, reducing society's total capital and the useful work it could have supported.
Fourth, these taxes expose dealers in the taxed goods to frequent visits and intrusive inspections by tax collectors. The dealers sometimes suffer oppression and always suffer considerable trouble and annoyance. As noted earlier, annoyance is not technically an expense, but it is worth whatever people would willingly pay to escape it. Excise laws are more effective at their intended purpose than customs laws but more burdensome in this respect. Once a merchant has imported goods subject to customs duties, paid those duties, and stored the goods in a warehouse, customs officers usually cause no further trouble. Excisable goods are different. Their dealers get no break from constant visits and inspections by excise officers. This is why excise duties and the officers who collect them are less popular than customs duties and officers. People claim that excise officers, though perhaps as conscientious as customs officers, usually acquire a certain harshness of character that the others often lack, because their duties require them to bother their neighbors so often. That claim may, however, simply come from dishonest dealers whose smuggling has been prevented or discovered by diligent officers.
Still, any difficulties that may be partly unavoidable with taxes on consumer goods weigh as lightly on the people of Great Britain as on those of any other country with a government nearly as expensive. Our system is not perfect and could improve, but it is at least as good as most of our neighbors' systems.
Some countries have repeatedly taxed consumer goods at each successive sale, based on the belief that duties on these goods tax merchants' profits. If the profits of importers or manufacturers were taxed, fairness seemed to demand taxing the profits of every middle buyer between them and consumers as well. Spain's famous alcavala seems to rest on that idea. Originally ten per cent., later fourteen per cent., it is now only six per cent. on the sale of every kind of movable or immovable property. It is charged every time the property changes hands. [Memoires concernant les Droits, etc. tom. i, p. 15] Collecting it requires enough revenue officers to watch goods moving not just between provinces but between shops. Tax collectors constantly visit and inspect dealers in every kind of goods, not just some, along with every farmer, manufacturer, merchant, and shopkeeper. In most areas subject to such a tax, nothing can be produced for sale far away. Each area's output has to match its neighbors' consumption. Ustaritz accordingly blames the alcavala for destroying Spanish manufacturing. He could also have blamed it for agriculture's decline, since it taxes raw farm products as well as manufactured goods.
The kingdom of Naples has a similar tax of three per cent. on the value of all contracts, including every sales contract. It is lower than Spain's tax, and most towns and parishes may pay an agreed sum instead. They raise that sum however they wish, generally in ways that do not interfere with local trade. The Neapolitan tax is therefore nowhere near as destructive as the Spanish one.
Except for a few minor differences, the same tax system applies throughout Great Britain. As a result, trade within the country, by land and along the coast, is almost entirely free. Inland trade is nearly completely free. Most goods can travel from one end of the kingdom to the other without a permit or travel pass and without questioning, visits, or inspection by revenue officers. There are a few exceptions, but none disrupts an important part of the country's inland trade. Goods carried along the coast do need certificates or coast-cockets. Apart from coal, however, almost all are duty-free. This freedom of domestic trade, made possible by uniform taxes, may be one of the main causes of Great Britain's prosperity. Every large country is necessarily the best and largest market for most goods made by its own industry. If Ireland and the plantations gained the same freedom through the same uniformity, both the state's greatness and prosperity throughout the empire would probably grow even greater.
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, tax laws vary by province. Many revenue officers must therefore guard not just the country's borders but almost every provincial border, to stop certain imports or collect duties on them. This seriously disrupts domestic trade. Some provinces may pay a fixed sum instead of the gabelle, or salt tax; others are exempt altogether. Some are exempt from the tobacco-selling monopoly held by the farmers-general across most of the kingdom. The aides, which resemble England's excise duties, vary greatly by province. Some provinces pay an agreed equivalent instead and are exempt. In provinces where the aides apply and collection rights are leased out, there are many duties limited to one town or district. The traites, which resemble our customs duties, divide the kingdom into three large areas. First are the provinces under the tariff of 1664, called the provinces of the five great farms: these include Picardy, Normandy, and most inland provinces. Second are the provinces under the tariff of 1667, called the provinces reckoned foreign: these include most frontier provinces. Third are provinces treated as foreign. Because they can trade freely with foreign countries, their trade with other French provinces faces the same duties as trade with foreign countries. These are Alsace, the three bishoprics of Mentz, Toul, and Verdun, and the three cities of Dunkirk, Bayonne, and Marseilles. Many duties limited to a single town or district exist both in the provinces of the five great farms and in the provinces reckoned foreign. The five great farms take their name from an old division of customs duties into five major branches, each originally leased out separately, though now all are combined into one farm. There are even some local duties in the provinces treated as foreign, particularly in Marseilles. It is easy to see how much the barriers to domestic trade and the number of revenue officers must grow when each province and district with its own tax system has to be guarded at its borders.
Beyond the general barriers created by this complicated system of tax laws, wine trade faces special restrictions in most provinces. Wine is perhaps France's most important product after grain. The special restrictions reflect the favor given to vineyards in some provinces and districts over those in others. I believe the provinces most famous for their wines will prove to be those where wine trade faces the fewest such restrictions. Their broad market encourages careful work both in growing the grapes and in making the wine afterward.
Complex and varied tax laws are not unique to France. The small duchy of Milan is divided into six provinces, each with a different tax system for several kinds of consumer goods. The duke of Parma's even smaller lands are divided into three or four territories, each with its own system too. With such absurd administration, only fertile soil and a favorable climate keep these countries from quickly falling into the deepest poverty and backwardness.
Taxes on consumer goods can be collected by government-appointed officers who answer directly to the government. Revenue under this system varies from year to year as the tax yield changes. Or collection rights can be leased out for a fixed rent. The tax farmer then appoints his own officers, who must collect the tax as the law directs but work under his immediate supervision and answer directly to him. Leasing out tax collection can never be the best or cheapest method. Besides the sum needed to pay the agreed rent, officers' salaries, and all administrative costs, the farmer must take some profit from the tax revenue. That profit must at least reflect the money he advances, the risk and effort he takes on, and the knowledge and skill needed to manage such a complicated undertaking. By directly supervising an administration like the one the farmer establishes, the government could at least keep this profit, which is almost always excessive. Leasing out any major source of public revenue requires a great deal of capital or credit. That alone limits potential bidders to very few people. Even fewer of those with the necessary capital or credit have the necessary knowledge or experience, further narrowing the field. The handful who can bid find it more profitable to join forces as partners rather than compete. When the contract is auctioned, they then offer a rent far below its real value. Where public revenue is leased out, the tax farmers are generally the richest people. Their wealth alone would stir public anger. The vanity that almost always goes with such newly made fortunes, and the foolish showiness with which these farmers display their wealth, stir even more anger.
Tax farmers never think laws punishing tax evasion are too severe. They feel no compassion for taxpayers, who are not their subjects. If every taxpayer went bankrupt the day after the lease ended, the farmers would scarcely suffer. In a state's gravest emergencies, when its ruler is most anxious to receive every payment of revenue, farmers seldom fail to claim they cannot even pay their usual rent without harsher laws. In times of public distress, nobody can challenge their demands. Revenue laws therefore grow increasingly harsh. The bloodiest laws always occur where most public revenue is leased out; the mildest occur where the ruler directly supervises collection. Even a bad ruler feels more compassion for his people than tax farmers ever can. He knows his family's lasting greatness depends on his people's prosperity, and he will not knowingly ruin that prosperity for a short-term benefit. Tax farmers are different: their own greatness may often result from their people's ruin rather than prosperity.
Sometimes a tax farmer not only leases collection rights at a fixed rent but also gets a monopoly over the taxed product. France collects tobacco and salt duties this way. In these cases, the farmer takes two excessive profits from the people instead of one: his profit as tax farmer and the even greater profit from his monopoly. Tobacco is a luxury, so people can choose whether to buy it. Salt is essential, so everyone must buy a set quantity from the farmer. The presumption is that anyone who did not buy that quantity from him would buy it from a smuggler. Taxes on both goods are excessive. Many people therefore cannot resist the temptation to smuggle. Yet the strict laws and vigilant officers employed by the farmer make giving in to that temptation almost certain to ruin them. Smuggling salt and tobacco sends several hundred people to the galleys every year, as well as a considerable number to the gallows. Collected in this way, these taxes bring in substantial government revenue. In 1767, tobacco-tax collection was leased for twenty-two millions five hundred and forty-one thousand two hundred and seventy-eight livres a-year, and salt-tax collection for thirty-six millions four hundred and ninety-two thousand four hundred and four livres. Both leases were to begin in 1768 and run for six years. Those who value the prince's revenue more than the people's blood may approve of collecting taxes this way. Similar taxes and salt and tobacco monopolies exist in many other countries, particularly in Austrian and Prussian territories 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 leased out. The government directly supervises and manages collection of the first three everywhere. It is universally recognized that, for what they take out of people's pockets, those first three contribute more to the prince's treasury than the other five, whose collection is far more costly and wasteful.
France's finances, as they stand, seem open to three obvious reforms. First, the crown could abolish the taille and capitation and increase the number of vingtiemes enough to replace their revenue. Crown revenue would be maintained, collection costs could fall considerably, and the trouble those two taxes cause poorer people could disappear entirely. The higher ranks might not bear a heavier burden than most do now. As I have already noted, the vingtieme is much like England's land tax. Everyone acknowledges that landowners ultimately bear the taille. Most of the capitation, in turn, is charged to those subject to the taille as an amount per pound of that tax, so landowners must ultimately bear most of it too. Even if enough vingtiemes were added to replace both taxes, the higher ranks as a whole might not pay more than they do now. Many individuals certainly would, because the taille is assessed with great inequality on different people's estates and tenants. The interests and resistance of those favored taxpayers are the greatest likely obstacles to this reform or any similar one. Second, the gabelle, aides, traites, tobacco taxes, and all other customs and excise duties could be made uniform throughout the kingdom. They could then be collected much more cheaply, and domestic trade could become as free as England's. Third and finally, the government could take direct supervision and management of all these taxes, adding the farmers-general's excessive profits to state revenue. Individuals' private interests are likely to prevent the last two reforms just as effectively as the first.
France's tax system seems inferior to Britain's in every respect. Great Britain raises ten millions sterling each year from fewer than eight million people, without any particular group being clearly oppressed. The Abbé Expilly's Collections and the observations of the author of the Essay upon the Legislation and Commerce of Corn suggest that France, including Lorraine and Bar, has about twenty-three or twenty-four million people, perhaps three times Britain's population. France has better soil and climate. It has been developed and cultivated much longer, and so has accumulated more things that take a long time to build up: large towns and comfortable, well-built homes in both towns and the countryside. With those advantages, one might expect France to raise thirty millions for the state with as little hardship as Britain raises ten millions. In 1765 and 1766, however, the entire revenue paid into France's treasury usually ranged between 308 and 325 millions of livres, according to the best figures I could obtain, though I admit they are very incomplete. That was less than fifteen millions sterling, not even half what one might expect if French people contributed in proportion to their numbers as British people did. Nevertheless, French people are generally recognized as much more burdened by taxes than British people. Even so, France is certainly the great European empire with the mildest and most forgiving government after Britain's.
It is said that Holland's heavy taxes on necessities have ruined its main manufacturing industries and may gradually discourage even fishing and shipbuilding. Taxes on necessities are small in Great Britain and have not yet destroyed any manufacturing industry. The British taxes that weigh most heavily on manufacturing include duties on imported raw materials, especially raw silk. Yet revenue raised by the States-General and the various cities reportedly exceeds five millions two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling. The United Provinces can hardly have more than one-third as many inhabitants as Great Britain, so their people must bear much higher taxes in proportion to their numbers.
When every suitable subject of taxation has been exhausted, a state that still needs new taxes must impose them on unsuitable subjects. Taxes on necessities therefore may not discredit the wisdom of that republic. To win and maintain independence, it has had to fight costly wars and incur heavy debts despite its great thrift. The unusual lands of Holland and Zealand also require considerable spending simply to keep them from being swallowed by the sea. This must have greatly increased those provinces' tax burdens. Republican government seems to be the main support for Holland's present greatness. Owners of large amounts of capital, the great merchant families, generally have a direct role or indirect influence in running the government. They value the respect and authority this gives them. For that reason, they are willing to live where their capital earns less profit if they use it themselves and less interest if they lend it. They also accept that the fairly small revenue they can get from it buys fewer necessities and comforts than anywhere else in Europe. Their presence keeps some industry alive in the country despite all these disadvantages. A public disaster that destroyed republican government, handed all administration to nobles and soldiers, and eliminated these rich merchants' influence would soon make Holland an unpleasant place for them to live. They could no longer expect much respect there. They would move both themselves and their capital abroad. Holland's industry and commerce would soon follow the capital on which they depend.
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.
Before commerce spreads and manufacturing improves, people do not know the costly luxuries those activities bring. As I tried to show in the third book of this Inquiry, someone with a large revenue then has almost no way to spend it except to support as many people as it can support. A large revenue always means having access to a large amount of life's necessities. In that early condition, people usually receive their revenue in necessities: basic food and rough clothing, grain and cattle, wool and raw hides. Without commerce or manufacturing, an owner cannot exchange most of what remains after personal consumption for anything else. The only thing to do with the surplus is feed and clothe as many people as it can support. Hospitality without luxury and generosity without display are the main expenses of the rich and powerful in these circumstances. But, as I also tried to show in that book, these are not expenses that often ruin people. Almost any trivial selfish pleasure has sometimes ruined even sensible people. Cockfighting has ruined many. Yet I believe few have been ruined by this kind of hospitality or generosity, although luxury in hospitality and generosity practiced for show have ruined many. Estates stayed in the same families for a long time among our feudal ancestors. That is strong evidence that people generally lived within their means. The constant, country-style hospitality of great landowners may not seem compatible with what we now think of as orderly financial management. Still, we must grant that they were thrifty enough not usually to spend their whole income. They could generally sell some wool and raw hides for money. They may have spent part of that money on the few luxuries and status goods available at the time, but they appear generally to have saved part of it. In fact, they had little choice but to store whatever money they saved. Trade was considered beneath a gentleman, while lending at interest was considered usury, forbidden by law, and even more disgraceful. In those violent and disorderly times, it was also useful to keep money ready. If driven from home, they could carry something of recognized value to safety. The violence that made saving useful also made it useful to hide their savings. Treasure-trove—treasure found without a known owner—was common enough to show that both saving and hiding money were common. The sovereign then regarded treasure-trove as an important source of revenue. Today all the treasure-trove in the kingdom would perhaps barely count as significant revenue for a private gentleman with a substantial estate.
The sovereign shared the subjects' tendency to save and accumulate money. As already noted in the Fourth book, a ruler of a nation unfamiliar with commerce and manufacturing is naturally placed in circumstances that favor the restraint needed to accumulate wealth. Even a ruler cannot then spend money on the vanity of an ornate court: the period offers few of the decorative goods that make one possible. Standing armies are not yet needed. The ruler, like another great lord, can spend almost nothing except on generosity toward tenants and hospitality toward retainers. Such generosity and hospitality seldom lead to extravagance, though vanity almost always does. Accordingly, as already noted, all Europe's ancient sovereigns kept treasures. Every Tartar chief today is said to keep one.
In a commercial country full of costly luxuries, the ruler, like nearly every large property owner in the country, naturally spends much of his revenue buying them. His own country and nearby countries supply the costly ornaments that create a dazzling but empty court spectacle. For a smaller spectacle of the same sort, nobles dismiss their retainers, allow their tenants to become independent, and gradually become as unimportant as most wealthy town merchants. The same shallow desires affect the ruler. Why assume that he alone among his country's wealthy people feels no attraction to such pleasures? He may well spend so much on them that he seriously weakens the state's defenses. Even if he does not, we can hardly expect him not to spend everything left after paying for those defenses. His usual spending comes to equal his usual revenue, if it does not often exceed it. He can no longer be expected to accumulate treasure. When exceptional needs bring exceptional costs, he must call on his subjects for extra help. Since Henry IV. of France died in 1610, only the present and previous kings of Prussia, among Europe's major princes, are believed to have accumulated much treasure. The thrift that makes accumulation possible 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 that has accumulated a substantial treasure. The other Swiss republics have not. A taste for impressive displays, at least for fine buildings and other public decorations, often prevails in the apparently sober senate of a small republic as much as in the pleasure-loving court of the greatest king.
Failing to save during peace makes borrowing necessary during war. When war arrives, the treasury holds no more than is needed for normal peacetime spending. Defense in wartime requires spending three or four times as much, and therefore revenue three or four times the peacetime level. Suppose the ruler had the means to increase revenue at once to match spending, which he almost never does. The proceeds of the new taxes might still take ten or twelve months to reach the treasury. Yet as soon as war begins—or even appears likely—the army must grow, the fleet must be fitted out, and fortified towns must be prepared for defense. They all need weapons, ammunition, and provisions. Danger demands a large payment immediately; it cannot wait for the slow arrival of new tax receipts. Government has no choice then but to borrow.
Commercial society creates this need for government borrowing through its effect on behavior. It also gives subjects both the means and the desire to lend. Along with the need to borrow comes the ease of borrowing.
A country with many merchants and manufacturers has many people who regularly handle not just their own capital but also the capital of people who lend to them or supply them with goods on credit. This money can pass through their hands as often as, or more often than, a private person's income passes through the hands of someone living on that income without doing business. Such a person's income normally passes through their hands only once a year. But a merchant in a business with quick returns may handle the whole amount of their capital and credit two, three, or four times a year. Thus a country rich in merchants and manufacturers has many people who can, if they choose, advance a very large sum to the government at any time. This is why subjects of a commercial state are able to lend.
Commerce and manufacturing rarely thrive for long without reliable justice, secure property, legal protection for contracts, and a government expected to enforce payment by people able to pay their debts. In short, they require some confidence that the government will act justly. The confidence that makes major merchants and manufacturers entrust their property to a particular government in ordinary times also makes them willing to let it use their property in extraordinary times. Lending to the government does not even briefly reduce their ability to conduct business; it usually increases it. The state's needs generally lead the government to borrow on very favorable terms for the lender. The claim it gives the original lender can be transferred to another creditor and, because people generally trust the state's integrity, can usually be sold for more than the lender paid. Merchants or people with money thus profit from lending to the government, increasing rather than reducing their business capital. They commonly see it as a favor to be included among the first subscribers to a new loan. This explains the willingness of subjects in a commercial state to lend.
Such a government is likely to rely on its subjects' ability and willingness to lend when unusual needs arise. Knowing it can borrow easily, it excuses itself from saving.
In an early society, there are no large merchant or manufacturing capitals. Individuals save and hide whatever money they can because they do not trust the government's justice. They fear that if anyone learned about the money and where it was hidden, they would soon be robbed. Few could lend money to the government in an emergency, and nobody would want to. The ruler knows borrowing is impossible and must save for emergencies. This knowledge strengthens the ruler's natural tendency to save.
The enormous debts now weighing down Europe's great nations, and probably destined eventually to ruin them, have developed in much the same way. Like private individuals, nations first borrow on what might be called personal credit, pledging no particular source of revenue to pay the debt. When that no longer works, they borrow against specifically assigned or mortgaged revenue.
Great Britain's so-called unfunded debt is incurred in the first way. Part of it bears no interest, or is supposed to bear none, like a private person's running account. The rest bears interest, like a private person's bill or promissory note. Debts for extraordinary services, or for services not budgeted or paid for when performed, usually make up the first kind. They include some exceptional army, navy, and ordnance expenses, overdue subsidies to foreign princes, unpaid sailors' wages, etc. Navy bills and exchequer bills, issued partly to pay such debts and partly for other purposes, make up the second kind. Exchequer bills earn interest from their issue date; navy bills begin earning it six months after issue. The bank of England supports the value and circulation of these bills in two ways. It may voluntarily discount them at their current value, or it may agree with the government, in exchange for certain benefits, to circulate exchequer bills by accepting them at face value and paying any interest due. This often lets the government incur a very large debt of this type. In France, which has no bank, state bills (billets d’etat [See Examen des Reflections Politiques sur les Finances.]) have sometimes sold at discounts of sixty and seventy per cent. During the major recoinage under king William, the bank of England stopped its normal transactions. Exchequer bills and tallies then reportedly sold at discounts ranging from twenty-five to sixty per cent. That was partly, no doubt, because people doubted the stability of the new government established by the Revolution, but also partly because the bank of England no longer supported them.
Once this way of borrowing runs out, the government must assign or mortgage a particular part of public revenue to raise money and repay the debt. It has done so in two ways at different times. It might pledge that revenue for a short period, such as a year or several years, or pledge it forever. In the first case, the revenue was expected to pay both principal and interest within the stated period. In the second, it was expected to pay only interest, or an equivalent yearly payment forever. The government remained free to end that yearly payment at any time by repaying the original principal. The first way of raising money was called anticipation. The second was called 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 government regularly spends the proceeds of the annual land and malt taxes in advance. Each year the laws imposing them include a clause allowing borrowing. The bank of England generally advances the amounts expected from those taxes, charging interest that has ranged from eight to three per cent. since the Revolution. It gets repaid as the tax money comes in. Any shortfall—and there is always one—is covered by the following year's funds. Thus the only substantial part of public revenue not yet mortgaged is regularly spent before it is collected. Like a reckless spender who cannot wait for income when bills come due, the state constantly borrows from its own agents and pays interest to use its own money.
During king William's reign and much of queen Anne's, before perpetual funding became as familiar as it is now, most new taxes lasted only a short time: four, five, six, or seven years. Much of each year's funding came from loans made against the expected receipts of those taxes. The receipts often failed to cover the principal and interest before the deadline, leaving shortfalls that required an extension.
In 1697, under the 8th of William III., c. 20, shortfalls from several taxes were charged against what was then called the first general mortgage or fund. It extended various taxes, due to expire sooner, to the first of August 1706, and combined their receipts in one general fund. The shortfalls assigned to this extension came to £5,160,459: 14: 9½.
In 1701, these duties and some others were extended again for the same purpose, until the first of August 1710. This was called the second general mortgage or fund. The shortfalls assigned to it came to £2,055,999: 7: 11½.
In 1707, the duties were extended again until the first of August 1712 to support new loans. This was called the third general mortgage or fund. Borrowing against it came to £983,254:11:9¼.
In 1708, all these duties were extended again, to back new loans until the first of August 1714. This was called the fourth general mortgage or fund. There were two exceptions: only half the old subsidy of tonnage and poundage was included, and a duty on imported Scotch linen had been removed by the articles of union. Borrowing against the fund came to £925,176:9:2¼.
In 1709, the duties were extended once more for the same purpose, until the first of August 1716. This fifth general mortgage or fund now excluded the old subsidy of tonnage and poundage entirely. Borrowing against it came to £922,029:6s.
In 1710, the duties were extended again to the first of August 1720. This was called the sixth general mortgage or fund. Borrowing against it came to £1,296,552:9:11¾.
In 1711, those same duties, already pledged four separate times in advance, were made permanent along with several others. They became a fund for paying interest on the capital of the South-sea company. That year the company advanced £9,177,967:15:4d to the government to pay debts and cover shortfalls. It was the largest loan ever made up to then.
Before this time, as far as I can tell, only the taxes to pay interest on loans from the bank and East-India company, and on a planned loan from a land bank that never actually lent the money, had been made permanent for paying interest on a debt. The bank fund then totaled £3,375,027:17:10½, with an annual payment or interest of £206,501:15:5d. The East-India fund totaled £3,200,000, with an annual payment or interest of £160,000. Interest was six per cent. on the bank fund and five per cent. on the East-India fund.
In 1715, under the first of George I., c. 12, the various taxes mortgaged for the bank's annual payment were combined with several others, which this act also made permanent. Together they formed one common fund, the aggregate fund, responsible not only for the bank payment but for several other yearly payments and obligations. The third of George I., c.8., and the fifth of George I., c. 3 later enlarged it and also made the added duties permanent.
In 1717, under the third of George I., c. 7, several other taxes were made permanent and pooled in another common fund. This general fund was to pay yearly amounts totaling £724,849:6:10½.
As a result of these acts, most taxes previously pledged in advance for only a few years became permanent. They supported payment not of the principal, but only of the interest, on money borrowed through repeated pledges of their future receipts.
If governments had raised money only by borrowing against future tax receipts for fixed periods, public revenue would have been freed of debt within a few years. The government would only have needed to avoid pledging more than the revenue could pay within the period and to avoid pledging it again before the first pledge expired. But most European governments have not managed that. They have often burdened a fund too heavily on its first use. If not, they have usually done so by pledging it a second and third time before the first pledge expired. Once the fund could no longer pay both principal and interest, it became necessary to charge it only with interest or a permanent annual payment equal to interest. Reckless borrowing against future receipts thus led inevitably to the still more damaging practice of perpetual funding. That practice changes the date when public revenue becomes free of debt from a fixed date to an indefinite one unlikely ever to arrive. Still, governments can raise more money by perpetual funding than by borrowing against limited future receipts. Once officials become used to it, they always prefer it during major emergencies. Those running public affairs chiefly care about meeting the present emergency. They leave freeing future public revenue to later generations.
During queen Anne's reign, the market interest rate fell from six to five per cent. In her twelfth year, five per cent. was declared the maximum legal rate on loans secured by private property. Soon afterward, most temporary taxes in Great Britain became permanent and were assigned to the aggregate, South-sea, and general funds. Public creditors, like private creditors, were persuaded to accept five per cent. interest. That saved one per cent. on the principal of most debts funded permanently in this way, or one-sixth of most yearly payments made from those three large funds. The savings left substantial tax revenue in the funds after their annual obligations were paid. That surplus became the basis of what was later called the sinking fund. In 1717, it amounted to £523,454:7:7½. The interest on most public debt was reduced again to four per cent. in 1727, then to three and a-half in 1753 and three per cent. in 1757. These reductions further enlarged the sinking fund.
A sinking fund may be established to pay old debts, but it makes taking on new debt much easier. It is a reserve always ready to be pledged alongside another fund of uncertain value when the state needs to borrow. We will soon see whether Great Britain's sinking fund has more often been used to repay old debts or support new ones.
Besides borrowing against future receipts and by permanent funding, there are two methods between them: borrowing in return for yearly payments for a fixed number of years, and borrowing in return for yearly payments for people's lifetimes.
Under king William and queen Anne, the government often borrowed large sums in return for yearly payments over periods of varying length. In 1695, an act authorized borrowing one million in exchange for an annual payment of fourteen per cent., or £140,000 a-year, for sixteen years. In 1691, an act authorized borrowing a million with payments lasting for people's lifetimes on terms that would seem very favorable today, but the full amount was not subscribed. The shortfall was made up the following year through lifetime payments at fourteen per cent., or a little more than seven years purchase. In 1695, buyers of those payments could exchange them for payments lasting ninety-six years by paying sixty-three pounds in the hundred into the exchequer. In other words, 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. Even these terms attracted few buyers because people thought the government unstable. During queen Anne's reign, the government borrowed at different times through both lifetime payments and payments lasting thirty-two, eighty-nine, ninety-eight, and ninety-nine years. In 1719, holders of the thirty-two-year payments were persuaded to exchange them for South-sea stock worth eleven and a-half years purchase of their payments, plus additional stock equal to the unpaid payments then owed. In 1720, most of the other fixed-term payments, both long and short, were subscribed into the same fund. At that time, the long-term payments amounted to £666,821: 8:3½ a-year. By the 5th of January 1775, those not exchanged then amounted to just £136,453:12:8d.
During the two wars that began in 1739 and 1755, little money was borrowed through payments for fixed terms or lifetimes. A payment lasting ninety-eight or ninety-nine years is worth almost as much as one lasting forever. You might therefore expect it to support nearly as much borrowing. But people buying public stock to arrange family settlements and provide for the distant future do not want an investment that steadily loses value. They account for a substantial share of stock owners and buyers. A long-term payment therefore finds far fewer buyers than a permanent one, even if its inherent value is nearly the same. Subscribers to a new loan generally plan to sell their shares soon. They greatly prefer a permanent payment that parliament can redeem to an equally large fixed-term payment that cannot be redeemed. The permanent payment can be expected to retain the same, or nearly the same, value. That makes it a more convenient investment to transfer.
In those two wars, yearly payments lasting for fixed terms or lifetimes were rarely offered except as bonuses to new-loan subscribers. They came on top of the redeemable yearly payment or interest that actually backed the loan. Their purpose was to give lenders an extra reason to participate, not to provide the main basis for borrowing.
Lifetime payments have sometimes been offered in two forms: payments on individual lives and payments on groups of lives. The latter are called tontines in French, after their inventor. With separate lives, each person's death releases public revenue from that person's payment. With a tontine, revenue is not released until every person in a group has died. A group may include twenty or thirty people. Survivors inherit the payments of those who die before them, until the last survivor receives the whole group's payments. A given revenue can always support more borrowing through tontines than through payments on separate lives. A payment with a right of survivorship is worth more than an equal payment tied to one life. Because people naturally trust their own luck—the principle behind the success of every lottery—it generally sells for even more than it is worth. In countries that often borrow by offering yearly payments, governments therefore generally prefer tontines to payments on separate lives. They almost always choose the method that raises most money over the one likely to free public revenue fastest.
Lifetime payments make up a much larger share of France's public debt than England's. According to a report the parliament of Bourdeaux presented to the king in 1764, France's total public debt was estimated at twenty-four hundred millions of livres. The principal borrowed in exchange for lifetime payments was estimated at three hundred millions, one-eighth of the total. Those payments were estimated at thirty millions a-year, a quarter of the one hundred and twenty millions estimated as the interest on the entire debt. I know these figures are not exact. Still, a very respected body presented them as approximate, and I think we may treat them that way. The difference between France's and England's borrowing methods does not reflect different levels of concern about freeing public revenue. It comes entirely from the different aims and interests of the 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, the government sits in the world's greatest trading city. Merchants are usually the people who lend it money. Their aim is not to reduce their business capital but to increase it. They would never subscribe to a new loan unless they expected to sell their share at a profit. But if they received payments for people's lifetimes instead of permanent yearly payments, they might not be able to sell so profitably. Whether those payments were tied to their own lives or other people's lives, selling would be harder. They would always lose money selling payments tied to their own lives: no one will pay as much for an annual payment tied to another person's life, even if that person's age and health are almost the same, as for one tied to their own life. A payment tied to a third person's life is certainly worth the same to seller and buyer. But its actual value begins to fall as soon as it is issued and keeps falling more and more for as long as it exists. It can never be as convenient an investment to transfer as a permanent yearly payment, whose actual value may be considered constant or nearly so.
In France, the government is not based in a major trading city, and merchants make up a smaller share of its lenders. Most lenders during public emergencies are people involved in managing the finances: the farmers-general, collectors of taxes not leased out, court bankers, etc. Such people commonly come from modest families, but are very wealthy and often very proud. They are too proud to marry women of similar status, while women of high rank refuse to marry them. They therefore often decide to stay unmarried. They have no children of their own and little affection for relatives whom they are not always eager to acknowledge. They want to live splendidly while they are alive and do not mind if their fortune ends when they die. France also has many more wealthy people than England who either do not want to marry or whose circumstances make marriage improper or inconvenient. People who give little or no thought to future generations find it especially convenient to exchange capital for income that lasts exactly as long as they want it and no longer.
Most modern governments spend all, or almost all, their normal revenue even in peace. When war begins, they are both unwilling and unable to raise revenue as much as their spending rises. They fear angering the people, who would quickly turn against the war if taxes rose sharply and suddenly. They also do not know which taxes could bring in enough money. The ability to borrow spares them the difficulty created by that fear and uncertainty. Through borrowing, they can raise enough each year to fight the war with only a moderate tax increase. Through perpetual funding, they can raise the largest possible annual sums with the smallest possible tax increase. In large empires, many residents of the capital and provinces far from the fighting suffer almost no inconvenience from the war. Instead, they comfortably enjoy reading newspaper reports of their fleets' and armies' achievements. For them, this entertainment makes up for the small difference between their wartime and peacetime taxes. They are usually unhappy when peace returns, ending both their entertainment and a thousand imagined hopes of conquest and national glory from continuing the war.
Peace seldom frees them from most taxes imposed during the war. Those taxes have been pledged to pay interest on the war debt. Once interest and ordinary government expenses are paid, the old revenue and new taxes might produce a surplus. That surplus might be used as a sinking fund to pay off the debt. But first, even if the fund is used only for this purpose, it is usually far too small 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 loans backed by them. If they yield anything extra, that is usually neither intended nor expected, so the extra is seldom large. Sinking funds have generally arisen less from an initial tax surplus over the interest or annual payments charged on the taxes than from a later reduction of that interest. The funds of Holland in 1655 and the ecclesiastical state in 1685 were both created this way. This helps explain why such funds are usually inadequate.
Even in the deepest peace, events occur that demand exceptional spending. Governments always find it easier to divert the sinking fund than to impose a new tax. People feel every new tax immediately, to some degree. It always produces complaints and opposition. The more numerous the taxes, and the higher the taxes already charged on each taxable subject, the louder the complaints about each new tax. It also becomes harder to find new things to tax or raise existing taxes much further. People do not immediately feel a temporary halt in debt repayment, and they do not complain about it. Borrowing from the sinking fund is always an obvious, easy solution to the immediate problem. Yet as public debts grow, reducing them becomes more urgent, and diverting the sinking fund becomes more dangerous and damaging. The less likely substantial debt reduction becomes, the more likely—indeed the more certain—it is that the fund will be diverted to cover every exceptional expense during peace. Once a nation is already heavily taxed, only a new war, a desire for national revenge, or fear for national security can persuade people to accept a new tax with reasonable patience. That is why sinking funds are commonly misused.
Since Great Britain first adopted the damaging device of perpetual funding, peacetime debt reduction has never come close to matching wartime debt growth. The foundations of Britain's present enormous debt were first laid in the war that 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 totaled £21,515,742:13:8½. Much of this had been borrowed against short-term future receipts, and some against payments lasting for people's lifetimes. Thus, before the 31st of December 1701, less than four years later, £5,121,041:12:0¾d had either been partly repaid or returned to the public as the lifetime payments expired. No greater reduction of public debt has happened in so short a period since then. The debt left over was therefore only £16,394,701:1:7¼d.
Public debt grew further during the war that began in 1702 and ended with the treaty of Utrecht. By the 31st of December 1714, it totaled £53,681,076:5:6½. Exchanging short- and long-term payments for shares in the South-sea fund raised the principal of the public debt. On the 31st of December 1722, it therefore totaled £55,282,978:1:3 ⅚. Debt repayment began in 1723, but progressed so slowly that by the 31st of December 1739, after seventeen years of profound peace, only £8,328,554:17:11 ³⁄₁₂ had been paid off. The principal of the public debt then stood at £46,954,623:3:4 ⁷⁄₁₂.
The Spanish war that began in 1739, followed soon by the French war, increased the debt further. By the 31st of December 1748, after peace was concluded under the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, it totaled £78,293,313:1:10¾. Seventeen years of profound peace had reduced the debt by only £8,328,354, 17:11¼. Less than nine years of war added £31,338,689:18: 6 ⅙. [See James Postlethwaite’s History of the Public Revenue.]
Under Mr Pelham's administration, the interest on public debt fell from four to three per cent., or at least measures were taken to reduce it that far. The sinking fund grew, and some debt was paid off. In 1755, before the most recent war began, Britain's funded debt totaled £72,289,675. On the 5th of January 1763, when peace was concluded, funded debt amounted to £122,603,336:8:2¼. Unfunded debt was put at £13,927,589:2:2. Yet the war's expenses did not stop when peace came. By the 5th of January 1764, funded debt had grown to £129,586,789:10:1¾, partly through a new loan and partly by converting unfunded debt into funded debt. Even then, according to the well-informed author of Considerations on the Trade and Finances of Great Britain, an unfunded debt of £9,975,017: 12:2 ¹⁵⁄₄₄d was entered in the accounts for that year and the next. Thus in 1764, according to this author, Britain's funded and unfunded public debt together amounted to £139,561,807:2:4. Payments lasting for people's lifetimes that had been given as bonuses to new-loan subscribers in 1757 were valued at £472,500, estimating them at fourteen years purchase. Long-term payments similarly given as bonuses in 1761 and 1762 were valued at £6,826,875, estimating them at twenty-seven and a-half years purchase. During about seven years of peace, Mr Pelham's careful and genuinely public-spirited administration could not pay off an old debt of six millions. During a war lasting almost as long, a new debt of more than seventy-five millions was incurred.
On the 5th of January 1775, Great Britain's funded debt totaled £124,996,086, 1:6¼d. Unfunded debt, excluding a large civil-list debt, totaled £4,150,236:3:11 ⅞. The combined total was £129,146,322:5:6. By this reckoning, only £10,415,476:16:9 ⅞ of the debt had been paid off in eleven years of profound peace. Even that small reduction did not all come from savings in the state's ordinary revenue. Several other sums, completely separate from that revenue, helped pay it down. They included an extra shilling in the pound of land tax for three years, two millions paid by the East-India company in compensation for its territorial acquisitions, and one hundred and ten thousand pounds paid by the bank to renew its charter. Several other sums must be added as well. Because they came from the recent war, they should perhaps count as reductions in its costs. The main ones are:
Proceeds from French prizes.............. £690,449: 18: 9 Compensation 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
Add to this the balance of the earl of Chatham's and Mr Calcraft's accounts, similar army savings, the sums received from the bank and East-India company, and the extra shilling in the pound of land tax. The total must be well over five millions. Thus the debt paid since peace out of savings from the state's ordinary revenue has averaged less than half a million a-year. The sinking fund has certainly grown substantially since peace: debt has been repaid, redeemable four per cents have been reduced to three per cents, and lifetime payments have ended. If peace continued, perhaps a million a year could now be set aside from it to repay the debt. Another million was indeed paid off last year. At the same time, however, a large civil-list debt went unpaid, and we are now involved in a new war that may prove as costly as any earlier war. [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 likely to be incurred before the next campaign ends may nearly equal all the old debt paid off from ordinary-revenue savings. It is therefore completely unrealistic to expect the public debt ever to be fully repaid from the savings likely to be made from ordinary revenue at its present level.
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 writer has described the public funds of Europe's indebted nations, especially England's, as a large addition to the country's other capital. He says this extra capital lets the country expand trade, increase manufacturing, and cultivate and improve its land far more than its other capital alone could. But he overlooks what happened to the capital that the government's first creditors lent it. From the moment each creditor lent it, part of the year's produce stopped serving as capital and started serving as revenue. Instead of supporting productive laborers, it supported unproductive ones. It was usually spent and used up within the year, with no prospect of producing anything in the future. The lenders did receive an annuity from the public funds in return, usually worth more than the capital they had lent. That annuity certainly replaced their capital from their point of view. It let them continue their businesses on the same scale as before, or perhaps a larger one. They could either use the annuity as security to borrow new capital from others, or sell it to obtain new capital of their own from others, equal to or greater than the amount they had lent the government. But this capital they borrowed or bought already existed in the country. Like all capital, it had been supporting productive labor. In the lenders' hands it was new capital to them in some respects, but not new capital to the country. It had simply moved from one use to another. It replaced what the lenders had advanced to the government, but it did not replace that capital for the country. If they had not lent it, the country would have had two portions of the year's produce, rather than one, supporting productive labor.
When the government pays its expenses with revenue raised during the year from taxes that are free and unpledged, it mainly diverts some private income from supporting one kind of unproductive labor to supporting another. Some of the money paid in those taxes might certainly have been saved as capital and used to support productive labor. But most would probably have been spent and used to support unproductive labor. Paying public expenses in this way does, to some extent, prevent further savings from building new capital. It does not necessarily destroy any capital that already exists.
When public expenses are paid by borrowing on the public credit, some capital already in the country is destroyed each year. Part of the year's produce that would have supported productive labor is diverted to support unproductive labor. But taxes are lighter than they would be if enough revenue to meet the expenses were raised during the year. Private incomes bear less of a burden, so people's ability to save part of their income and build capital is reduced much less. Funding destroys more existing capital but does less to prevent the saving or acquisition of new capital than paying public expenses out of revenue raised within the year. Under funding, private thrift and work can more easily repair the losses that government waste and extravagance sometimes cause to society's capital as a whole.
Funding has this advantage over the other method only while a war continues. If the expenses of war were always paid from revenue raised within the year, the taxes providing that extra revenue would end with the war. People would be less able to save during war, but more able to save during peace than under funding. War would not necessarily destroy any existing capital, and peace would bring the accumulation of much more new capital. Wars would generally end sooner and be started less recklessly. People who felt the full burden of a war while it lasted would soon tire of it. To please them, the government would not have to carry on a war longer than necessary. The prospect of war's heavy and unavoidable costs would keep people from recklessly demanding one when they had no real or substantial interest to fight for. Periods when people's ability to save was somewhat reduced would occur less often and last less time. Periods when that ability was strongest would last much longer than they can under funding.
Once funding has developed to a certain point, the many taxes that come with it can reduce people's ability to save even in peace as much as the other method would during war. Great Britain's peacetime revenue now exceeds ten millions a year. If it were free and unpledged, proper management could use it to wage the most vigorous war without borrowing a shilling more. In peacetime today, the private incomes of Great Britain's inhabitants are as heavily burdened, and their ability to save as badly reduced, as they would have been during the costliest war if the harmful practice of funding had never been adopted.
People have said that paying interest on the public debt is like the right hand paying the left. The money stays in the country. Revenue is merely transferred from one group of inhabitants to another, and the nation is not a farthing poorer. This defense rests entirely on the false reasoning of the mercantile system. After my lengthy examination of that system, I may not need to say more about it. It also assumes that all public debt is owed to the country's inhabitants. That is not true: the Dutch and several other foreign peoples hold a very large share of our public funds. But even if all the debt were owed to the country's inhabitants, it would be no less harmful for that reason.
Land and capital stock are the two original sources of all private and public revenue. Capital stock pays the wages of productive labor, whether that labor is in agriculture, manufacturing, or commerce. The management of these two sources belongs to different people: landowners and the owners or employers of capital stock.
A landowner has an interest in keeping his estate in the best possible condition for the sake of his own revenue. He builds and repairs his tenants' houses, makes and maintains the needed drains and fences, and pays for the other expensive improvements that properly fall to the landlord. But land taxes can reduce his revenue so much, while taxes on life's necessities and comforts can make what remains worth so little, that he can no longer afford to make or maintain those improvements. Once the landlord stops doing his part, the tenant cannot possibly keep doing his. As the landlord's financial troubles increase, the country's agriculture must decline.
Taxes on life's necessities and comforts can also make owners and employers of capital stock find that the revenue they earn from it buys less in one country than an equal revenue would buy in almost any other. They will then be inclined to move elsewhere. To collect those taxes, tax collectors must also make constant, irritating and humiliating visits to all or most merchants and manufacturers—the people who employ large amounts of capital. Their inclination to leave will soon turn into actual departure. When the capital supporting a country's industry leaves, that industry must decline. The collapse of trade and manufacturing will follow the decline of agriculture.
Most of the revenue from land and capital stock belongs in the hands of the owners of those two great sources of revenue. These owners have an immediate interest in the condition of each piece of land and the management of each portion of capital stock. If most of that revenue is instead transferred to another group—the public creditors, who have no such particular interest—the long-term result must be neglected land and wasted or departing capital stock. A public creditor does have a general interest in the prosperity of the country's agriculture, manufacturing, and commerce, and therefore in the good condition of its land and the good management of its capital stock. A general failure or decline in these might leave tax revenues too low to pay the annuity or interest due to him. But considered simply as a public creditor, he has no interest in any particular piece of land or portion of capital stock. He knows nothing about it, does not inspect it, and cannot look after it. He might never learn that it has been ruined, and its ruin cannot directly affect him.
Funding has gradually weakened every state that adopted it. The Italian republics seem to have started the practice. Genoa and Venice, the only two still able to claim an independent existence, have both been weakened by it. Spain seems to have learned the practice from them. Its taxes were probably less wisely chosen, and relative to its natural strength it has been weakened even more. Spain's debts are very old. It was deeply in debt before the end of the sixteenth century, about a hundred years before England owed a shilling. Despite all its natural resources, France suffers under a crushing debt of the same kind. The republic of the United Provinces is as weakened by its debts as Genoa or Venice. Can a practice that has brought weakness or collapse to every other country really be harmless in Great Britain alone?
It may be said that those countries' systems of taxation are worse than England's. I believe they are. But remember that once even the wisest government has exhausted all suitable things to tax, urgent need forces it to tax unsuitable ones. The well-governed republic of Holland has sometimes had to impose taxes as inconvenient as most of Spain's. If another war starts before any substantial part of the public revenue has been freed from debt payments, and grows as costly as the last war, unavoidable necessity may make British taxes as oppressive as Holland's or even Spain's. To the credit of our present tax system, it has so far caused so little difficulty for industry that even during the most costly wars, private thrift and good management seem to have saved and accumulated enough to repair all the damage government waste and extravagance did to society's total capital. At the end of the last war, the most expensive Great Britain ever fought, agriculture was as prosperous, manufacturers as numerous and fully employed, and commerce as extensive as ever before. The capital supporting all those industries must therefore have been as great as ever before. Since peace came, agriculture has improved further. House rents have risen in every town and village, showing that people's wealth and revenue have increased. The yearly proceeds of most old taxes, especially the main excise and customs duties, have also risen steadily. This is equally clear evidence of growing consumption and, therefore, growing production, which alone could support that consumption. Great Britain seems to carry easily a burden that nobody thought it could carry half a century ago. But we should not hastily conclude from this that it can carry any burden, or even be too sure it could carry one slightly heavier than its present burden without great hardship.
Once national debts have reached a certain size, I believe there is hardly a single case of their being paid in full and in good faith. If public revenue has ever been freed from debt payments, it has always been through bankruptcy. Sometimes the bankruptcy was openly declared, but more often it took the form of a payment that was only a pretense.
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
Increasing the stated value of coins has been the most common way to disguise a real government bankruptcy as a supposed repayment. Suppose, for example, that an act of parliament or a royal proclamation made a sixpence count as a shilling, and twenty sixpences count as a pound sterling. Someone who had borrowed twenty shillings, or nearly four ounces of silver, under the old values could then repay the loan with twenty sixpences, containing less than two ounces. A national debt of about a hundred and twenty-eight millions, close to the principal of Great Britain's funded and unfunded debt, could thus be paid with about sixty-four millions of our present money. But this would only look like payment. Public creditors would actually be cheated of ten shillings in every pound owed to them. The damage would reach much further than public creditors: every private creditor would suffer a proportionate loss. The public creditors would gain nothing from this, and in most cases would suffer an additional large loss. If public creditors generally owed a lot of money to others, they could offset some of their loss by repaying those creditors in the same coins the government had given them. But in most countries, most public creditors are wealthy people who are more often creditors than debtors in their dealings with fellow citizens. This false payment therefore usually makes public creditors' losses worse instead of easing them. Without benefiting the public, it spreads the damage to many other innocent people. It causes a widespread and very harmful upheaval in private fortunes. Usually it enriches idle, wasteful debtors at the expense of hardworking, thrifty creditors. It moves much of the nation's capital from people likely to increase and improve it to people likely to squander and destroy it. When a state must declare bankruptcy, just as when a person must do so, an honest, open declaration is always the least dishonorable course for the debtor and the least harmful one for the creditor. The honor of a state is poorly served if it tries to hide the shame of a real bankruptcy with a trick so easy to see through and so harmful.
Yet almost every state, ancient or modern, has sometimes used this very trick when faced with such a need. At the end of the first Punic war, the Romans reduced the As, the coin or unit in which they measured the value of all their other coins, from twelve ounces of copper to just two ounces. In other words, they gave two ounces of copper the value formerly assigned to twelve ounces. The republic could then pay the great debts it had incurred with one-sixth of what it actually owed. We might expect so sudden and large a bankruptcy to have provoked a great public outcry today, but it apparently provoked none. A tribune introduced the law and brought it through the people's assembly, as with every other coinage law. It was probably very popular. In Rome, as in all the other ancient republics, poor people were constantly in debt to rich and powerful people. To secure votes in the yearly elections, the rich lent them money at exorbitant interest. The interest was never paid and soon grew into an amount neither the debtor nor anyone else could pay for him. Fearing harsh enforcement of the debt, the debtor had to vote for the creditor's favored candidate without any further reward. Despite every law against bribery and corruption, gifts from candidates and occasional distributions of money ordered by the senate were the chief means of support for poorer citizens in the later Roman republic. To escape their dependence on creditors, poor citizens constantly demanded either the complete cancellation of debts or what they called new tables. By new tables they meant a law allowing them to settle accumulated debts completely by paying only part of what they owed. The law that reduced all coins to one-sixth of their previous value let them pay their debts with one-sixth of what they really owed. It was as favorable to them as the best possible new tables. To satisfy the people, the rich and powerful had several times been forced to accept laws canceling debts or introducing new tables. They probably agreed to this law partly for that reason. They also hoped that freeing public revenue from debt payments would restore strength to the government they themselves largely controlled. A change of this kind would instantly reduce a debt of £128,000,000 to £21,333,333:6:8. During the second Punic war, the As was further reduced from two ounces of copper to one ounce and then from one ounce to half an ounce. It was thus worth one twenty-fourth of its original value. Combining all three Roman changes 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 that way.
Through measures like these, I believe the coins of every nation have gradually fallen further and further below their original value. The same nominal sum has gradually come to contain less and less silver.
Nations have sometimes debased their coins for the same purpose by mixing in more alloy. For example, our current standard permits eighteen penny-weight of alloy in a pound weight of silver coin. If there were instead eight ounces of alloy in that pound, a pound sterling, or twenty shillings in those coins, would be worth little more than six shillings and eightpence in our present money. The silver now found in six shillings and eightpence would then be given a value of nearly a pound sterling. Debasing the standard has exactly the same effect as what the French call an augmentation, a direct increase in the stated value of the coin.
An augmentation, or direct increase in a coin's stated value, is always open and must by its nature be openly acknowledged. It gives smaller and lighter pieces the name formerly given to larger and heavier ones. Debasing the standard, by contrast, has generally been done secretly. The mint issues coins with the same stated value and, as nearly as possible, the same weight, size, and appearance as the earlier, much more valuable coins. When king John of France [See Du Cange Glossary, voce Moneta; the Benedictine Edition.] debased his coins to pay his debts, he made every mint officer swear to keep it secret. Both practices are unjust. But a simple augmentation is an open act of force, while debasement is a dishonest fraud. As soon as debasement was discovered—and it could never be hidden for long—it always caused much greater outrage. After a substantial augmentation, coins have rarely returned to their earlier weight. But after even the greatest debasements, they have almost always returned to their former purity. Usually nothing less could quiet the people's anger.
At the end of Henry VIII.'s reign and the beginning of Edward VI.'s, English coins were both given a higher stated value and debased. Similar frauds were committed in Scotland while James VI. was a minor. They have also sometimes been committed in most other countries.
It seems pointless to expect Great Britain's public revenue ever to be completely freed from debt payments, or even to make much progress toward that goal, while so little revenue remains after paying the yearly expenses of the peacetime government. Clearly, this cannot happen without either a very large rise in public revenue or an equally large cut in public spending.
A fairer land tax, a fairer tax on house rents, and the changes to customs and excise described in the previous chapter might substantially increase revenue. They might do so without raising the burden on most people, simply by sharing it more fairly among everyone. Yet even the most optimistic planner could hardly expect such an increase to give reasonable hope of freeing the entire public revenue. It could hardly even achieve enough in peacetime to prevent or offset the further growth of public debt during the next war.
Much more revenue might be raised by extending Britain's tax system to every province of the empire inhabited by people of British or European descent. But under the principles of the British constitution, this could hardly be done without giving all those provinces fair and equal representation in the British parliament, or, if you prefer, in an assembly of the whole British empire. Each province's share of representatives would have to bear the same relation to its tax payments as Great Britain's share bears to the taxes collected there. The private interests of many powerful people and the deeply held prejudices of large groups now seem to place very difficult, perhaps impossible, obstacles in the way of such a major change. Without deciding whether such a union is possible, a speculative work like this can consider how far the British tax system could be applied to every province of the empire, how much revenue it could then raise, and how such a general union might affect the happiness and prosperity of its provinces. At worst, such speculation is a new Utopia, certainly less entertaining than the old one but no more useless or fanciful.
The land-tax, stamp duties, customs duties, and excise duties make up the four main 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 who pays neither a tythe nor a poor’s rate must be better able to pay such a tax than one who pays both. Where there is no fixed substitute payment, or modus, and the tythe is collected in produce, it reduces what would otherwise be the landlord's rent by more than a land tax of five shillings in the pound would. In most cases such a tythe amounts to more than one-fourth of the land's true rent: what is left after the farmer's capital is fully replaced and he earns a reasonable profit. If every modus and every impropriation were removed, the full church tythe in Great Britain and Ireland could hardly be valued at less than six or seven millions. If neither country had a tythe, landlords could pay six or seven millions more in land tax without being more heavily burdened than very many of them are now. America pays no tythe and could easily pay a land tax. Land in America and the West Indies is generally not occupied by tenant farmers or leased to them, so it could not be assessed from rent rolls. But land in Great Britain was not assessed from rent rolls in the 4th of William and Mary either. It was assessed by very rough and inaccurate estimates. American land could be assessed in that way or by a fair valuation based on a careful survey, like the recent surveys in the Milanese and the dominions of Austria, Prussia, and Sardinia.
Stamp duties could plainly be imposed without any changes wherever the procedures of the courts and the documents transferring ownership of real and personal property are the same, or nearly the same.
Extending Great Britain's customs laws to Ireland and the plantations would greatly benefit both, provided that, as fairness requires, it also extended freedom of trade. All the resented restrictions now weighing on Irish trade, and the distinction between America's enumerated and non-enumerated goods, would end. Countries north of Cape Finisterre would be open to every kind of American produce, just as countries south of the cape are now open to some of it. With uniform customs laws, trade between all parts of the British empire would be as free as Britain's domestic coastal trade is now. The empire would offer an immense internal market for every product of its many provinces. Such a great expansion of the market would soon make up for everything Ireland and the plantations might lose through higher 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 need any changes to suit the empire's different provinces. It could be applied to Ireland without changes, because what that kingdom produces and consumes is of exactly the same kind as in Great Britain. America and the West Indies produce and consume very different things, so some adjustment might be needed there, just as the excise is adjusted between England's cyder and beer counties.
For example, Americans commonly drink a fermented liquor called beer, though because it is made from molasses it is very unlike our beer. It lasts only a few days. Unlike our beer, it cannot be made in large breweries and stored for sale. Each family must brew its own, just as it cooks its own food. It would be entirely against liberty to make every family submit to the hated visits and inspections of tax collectors, as ale-house keepers and commercial brewers do. If fairness called for taxing this drink, its ingredients could be taxed where they are made. Or, if the nature of the trade made such an excise unsuitable, a duty could be charged when they enter the colony where the drink will be consumed. In addition to the duty of one penny a-gallon that the British parliament imposes on molasses imported into America, Massachusetts Bay charges a provincial tax of eight-pence the hogshead on molasses brought in ships belonging to another colony. South Carolina charges five-pence the gallon on molasses brought from the northern colonies. If neither approach worked well, each family could pay a fixed amount for its use of the drink. That amount could depend on the number of family members, as it does when English families pay a fixed amount for the malt tax. Or it could depend on their ages and sexes, as several taxes in Holland do. This is also roughly how Sir Matthew Decker proposes collecting all English taxes on goods people consume. As already noted, this way of taxing goods that are quickly consumed is not very convenient. It could still be used where no better way is available.
Sugar, rum, and tobacco are not necessities anywhere. Almost everyone consumes them, so they are particularly suitable for taxation. If the colonies joined in a union, these goods could be taxed before they left the hands of their makers or growers. If that did not suit the makers or growers, the goods could instead be placed in public warehouses where they were made and at every port in the empire to which they were later shipped. There they would remain in the joint custody of the owner and the revenue officer until delivered to a consumer, to a retail merchant for domestic sale, or to an exporting merchant. The tax would not have to be paid before that delivery. Goods released for export would be free of duty if adequate security was provided to ensure they actually left the empire. These are probably the main goods for which union with the colonies would require substantial changes in the current British tax system.
It is certainly impossible to say with reasonable accuracy how much revenue this system could raise if extended across every province of the empire. In Great Britain it collects more than ten millions a year from fewer than eight millions people. Ireland has more than two millions people. According to accounts presented to the congress, the twelve associated provinces of America have more than three millions. Those figures may be exaggerated, perhaps to encourage their own people or frighten ours. So let us suppose that our North American and West Indian colonies together have no more than three millions people, and the whole British empire in Europe and America no more than thirteen millions inhabitants. If the system raises more than ten millions sterling from fewer than eight millions people, it should raise more than sixteen millions two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling from thirteen millions. From that sum, if the system could indeed raise it, we must subtract the revenue normally collected in Ireland and the plantations to pay for their civil governments. On average over the two years ending March 1775, the civil and military establishment of Ireland and interest on its public debt cost a little less than seven hundred and fifty thousand pounds a year. According to a very precise account, the main American and West Indian colonies raised a hundred and forty-one thousand eight hundred pounds before the present troubles began. This account leaves out the revenue of Maryland, North Carolina, and all our recent acquisitions on the continent and the islands. That omission may make a difference of thirty or forty thousand pounds. For the sake of round numbers, let us say that the civil governments of Ireland and the plantations need a million in revenue. That leaves fifteen millions two hundred and fifty thousand pounds to meet the empire's general expenses and pay its public debt. If Great Britain can spare a million of its present revenue for debt repayment in peacetime, it could easily spare six millions two hundred and fifty thousand pounds from this greater revenue. This large sinking fund could grow each year by the interest saved on debts paid off the year before. It could grow so quickly that within a few years it would pay off the whole debt and fully restore the empire's present weakened and fading strength. Meanwhile, people could be relieved of some of the heaviest taxes, especially those on life's necessities and manufacturing materials. Poor laborers could then live better, work at lower cost, and bring cheaper goods to market. Cheaper goods would bring greater demand for them and for the labor that makes them. Higher demand for labor would increase both the number of poor laborers and their standard of living. They would consume more, raising the revenue from those goods they bought that remained taxed.
Revenue from this tax system might not immediately rise in proportion to the number of newly taxed people. For some time, provinces newly subjected to unfamiliar taxes would deserve generous treatment. Even once the same taxes were collected as consistently as possible everywhere, they would not yield revenue proportional to population everywhere. In a poor country, people consume very little of the main goods subject to customs and excise. In a sparsely settled country, there are many opportunities to smuggle. Scotland's poorer people drink very little malt liquor. Its excise on malt, beer, and ale raises less than England's relative to population and tax rates, though the rate on malt differs because of a supposed difference in quality. I do not think there is much more smuggling of these particular goods in either country than in the other. Excise duties on distilling and most customs duties yield less in Scotland than in England relative to population. This is due both to lower consumption of the taxed goods and to the much greater ease of smuggling. Ireland's poorer people are poorer still than Scotland's, and many parts are nearly as sparsely populated. Consumption of taxable goods per person might therefore be still lower than in Scotland, with nearly the same ease of smuggling. In America and the West Indies, white people even of the lowest rank are much better off than their English counterparts. They probably consume far more of the luxuries they commonly enjoy. Black people make up most of the inhabitants of both the southern mainland colonies and the West India islands. They are enslaved and certainly worse off than the poorest people in Scotland or Ireland. But we should not assume they are less well fed, or consume fewer goods subject to moderate duties, than even England's poorer people. To make them work well, it is in their master's interest to feed them well and keep them in good condition, just as he does his working cattle. Enslaved Black people accordingly receive an allowance of rum and of molasses or spruce-beer almost everywhere, just as white servants do. Moderate duties on these goods would probably not take that allowance away. Consumption of taxed goods per person would therefore probably be as high in America and the West Indies as anywhere else in the British empire. Smuggling would certainly be much easier, since America has far fewer people relative to its area than Scotland or Ireland. Yet if the revenue now collected from separate duties on malt and malt liquors came instead from a single duty on malt, the opportunities to smuggle goods covered by this most important part of the excise would nearly disappear. And if customs duties covered only a few widely used and consumed imports rather than almost every imported good, and were collected under the excise laws, smuggling opportunities would be greatly reduced, though not eliminated. With these two seemingly simple and easy changes, customs and excise duties would probably raise as much revenue relative to consumption in the least densely populated province as they now raise in the most densely populated one.
It has been said that Americans have no gold or silver coins. They use paper money for trade within their country and send any gold and silver that comes to them to Great Britain to pay for the goods we supply. But, the argument continues, taxes cannot be paid without gold and silver. We already receive all the gold and silver they have. How could we take from them what they do not have?
The present shortage of gold and silver coins in America does not mean the country is poor or its people cannot afford those metals. Wages are much higher there than in England, and food costs much less. Most people there must surely have enough to buy more gold and silver if they needed it or found it useful. The shortage is therefore a matter of choice, not necessity.
Gold and silver coins are needed or useful for carrying on either domestic or foreign business.
As shown in the second book of this Inquiry, every country can conduct its domestic business with paper money nearly as conveniently as with gold and silver coins, at least in peacetime. Americans can always profitably use more stock to improve their land than they can easily get. It suits them to avoid the expense of using gold and silver as tools of trade. They prefer to use the surplus produce that would buy those metals to buy tools of trade, materials for clothing, parts of household furnishings, and the ironwork needed to build and expand their settlements and plantations. They buy active, productive stock rather than stock that sits idle. Colony governments have an interest in supplying enough paper money to cover domestic business, and usually supply more than enough. Some, especially Pennsylvania's government, earn revenue by lending this paper money to their people at a stated percentage of interest. Others, such as Massachusetts Bay's government, issue paper money in emergencies to pay public expenses. Later, when it suits the colony, they redeem it at the lower value to which it has gradually fallen. In 1747, [See Hutchinson’s History of Massachusetts Bay vol. ii. page 436 et seq.] that colony used this method to pay most of its public debt with one-tenth of the money for which its bills had originally been issued. Planters find it useful to avoid the cost of gold and silver coins in domestic transactions. Colony governments find it useful to give them a means of payment that saves that cost, despite its serious drawbacks. Excess paper money necessarily drives gold and silver out of domestic transactions in the colonies, just as it has driven them out of most domestic transactions in Scotland. In both places, this excess paper money arose not from poverty but from people's enterprising spirit and ambitious plans: they want to put all the stock they can get to active and productive use.
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 trade between Great Britain and its different colonies, people use gold and silver more or less according to how much they need them. Where they do not need these metals, they rarely appear. Where they do need them, they can usually find them.
In the trade between Great Britain and the tobacco colonies, British merchants usually give the colonists quite a long time to pay for goods. The colonists later pay in tobacco, valued at a set price. Paying in tobacco is easier for them than paying in gold and silver. Any merchant would find it easier to pay for goods supplied by his trading partners with other goods he happens to sell, rather than with money. He would not have to keep part of his stock idle as ready cash to meet occasional demands. He could always have more goods in his shop or warehouse and do more business. But a merchant's trading partners rarely all find it convenient to accept payment in the other goods he sells. The British merchants who trade with Virginia and Maryland are a particular group of trading partners. They find it easier to accept tobacco for the goods they sell to those colonies than to accept gold and silver. They expect to make a profit by selling the tobacco, but they could make none by selling gold and silver. So gold and silver rarely appear in trade between Great Britain and the tobacco colonies. Maryland and Virginia have as little need for these metals in foreign trade as in trade at home. Accordingly, they are said to have less gold and silver money than any other colonies in America. Yet they are considered as prosperous, and therefore 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 falls short of the value of the manufactured goods they import. They import these goods both for themselves and for some other colonies, to which they carry them. They therefore owe the mother country a balance in gold and silver, and they generally manage to find it.
In the sugar colonies, the yearly value of produce exported to Great Britain is much greater than the value of all goods imported from there. If Great Britain paid for the sugar and rum sent each year to the mother country in the colonies themselves, it would have to send out a very large amount of money each year to settle the balance. A certain kind of politician would then see trade with the West Indies as extremely harmful. But many leading owners of sugar plantations live in Great Britain. They receive their rents in sugar and rum produced on their estates. The sugar and rum that West India merchants buy in those colonies for themselves are worth less than the goods they sell there each year. The merchants must therefore receive the balance in gold and silver, and they generally do.
The difficulty and irregularity of payments from the different colonies to Great Britain have not depended on how large or small the balances owed by each colony were. In general, payments from the northern colonies have been more regular than those from the tobacco colonies. Yet the northern colonies have usually paid quite a large balance in money, while the tobacco colonies have paid either no balance or a much smaller one. The difficulty of collecting payments from our different sugar colonies has depended less on the size of their balances than on how much uncultivated land they contained. More uncultivated land meant more temptation for planters to trade beyond their means, or to settle and plant more unused land than their capital allowed. For this reason, payments from the large island of Jamaica, which still has much uncultivated land, have generally been more irregular and uncertain than payments from the smaller islands of Barbadoes, Antigua, and St. Christopher’s. Those islands have been fully cultivated for many years, leaving planters less room for such ventures. The new acquisitions of Grenada, Tobago, St. Vincent’s, and Dominica have opened up new opportunities for such ventures. Lately, payments from these islands have been as irregular and uncertain as payments from the large island of Jamaica.
So poverty is not what causes the current shortage of gold and silver money in most of the colonies. They have a great need for active, productive stock, so it makes sense for them to hold as little idle stock as possible. They are therefore willing to use a cheaper means of trade, even though it is less convenient than gold and silver. This lets them put the value of that gold and silver into trading equipment, materials for clothing, household furniture, and the ironwork needed to build and expand their settlements and plantations. In kinds of business that require gold and silver money, they seem always able to find the amount they need. If they often fail to find it, the reason is usually not unavoidable poverty but excessive, unnecessary enterprise. Their payments are irregular and uncertain not because they are poor, but because they are too eager to become extremely rich. Suppose that all the revenue from colonial taxes beyond what was needed to pay for the colonies' own civil and military establishments had to be sent to Great Britain in gold and silver. The colonies have more than enough resources to buy the required amount of those metals. They would, however, have to exchange some of the surplus produce they now use to buy active, productive stock for idle stock. In their domestic business, they would have to use an expensive means of trade instead of a cheap one. The cost of buying it might somewhat cool their excessive eagerness to improve land. But it might not be necessary to send any American tax revenue in gold and silver. The money could be sent by bills drawn on particular merchants or companies in Great Britain and accepted by them. Some of America's surplus produce would be consigned to these merchants or companies. Once they had received its value in goods, they would pay the American revenue into the treasury in money. The entire transaction could often take place without exporting a single ounce of gold or silver from America.
It would not be unjust for both Ireland and America to help pay off Great Britain's public debt. This debt was incurred to support the government established by the Revolution. The protestants of Ireland owe that government not only all the authority they now have in their own country, but also every guarantee they have of their liberty, property, and religion. Several American colonies owe it their present charters and therefore their present constitutions. All the American colonies owe it the liberty, security, and property they have enjoyed ever since. The public debt was incurred to defend not just Great Britain but all the provinces of the empire. In particular, the enormous debt from the recent war, and much of the debt from the preceding war, were both incurred to defend America.
A union with Great Britain would give Ireland freedom of trade and other, much more important benefits. These would more than make up for any tax increases accompanying the union. The union with England freed Scotland's middle and lower ranks completely from the power of an aristocracy that had always oppressed them. A union with Great Britain would likewise free most people of every rank in Ireland from an even more oppressive aristocracy. Unlike Scotland's aristocracy, it does not rest on the natural and respectable differences of birth and wealth. It rests on the most hateful differences of all: religious and political prejudices. More than any other differences, these stir up the arrogance of oppressors and the hatred and anger of the oppressed. They commonly make people within one country more hostile to one another than people from different countries ever are. Without union with Great Britain, the people of Ireland are unlikely to think of themselves as one people for many ages.
No oppressive aristocracy has ever ruled the colonies. Even so, a union with Great Britain would greatly improve their happiness and peace. At least it would free them from the bitter and hostile factions that are inseparable from small democracies. These factions have often divided their people's loyalties and disturbed the peace of their governments, whose form comes so close to democracy. If the colonies separated completely from Great Britain, as seems very likely unless such a union prevents it, the factions would become ten times more hostile than ever. Before the present disturbances began, the mother country's power to restrain them had always kept their behavior from going beyond gross brutality and insults. If that power disappeared altogether, they would probably soon turn to open violence and bloodshed. In every large country united under one government, factional feeling is usually weaker in distant provinces than at the center of the empire. Those provinces are far from the capital, the main center of the struggle for power and political advantage. This makes them less caught up in any competing party's plans, and more indifferent and impartial when judging what all the parties do. Factional feeling is weaker in Scotland than in England. With a union, it would probably be weaker in Ireland than in Scotland. The colonies, too, would probably soon enjoy a degree of harmony and agreement now unknown anywhere in the British empire. Ireland and the colonies would, of course, face heavier taxes than they currently pay. But if public revenue were carefully and faithfully used to pay off the national debt, most of those taxes might not last long. Great Britain's public revenue could soon be reduced to the amount needed to maintain a moderate peacetime establishment.
The East India Company's territorial acquisitions belong without question to the Crown, meaning the state and people of Great Britain. They could become another source of revenue, perhaps more plentiful than all the sources already mentioned. Those territories are said to be more fertile and more extensive than Great Britain, and richer and more populous for their size. To get substantial revenue from them, it would probably not be necessary to introduce a new tax system in countries that are already taxed enough, or more than enough. It might be better to ease those unfortunate countries' burden rather than increase it. Revenue could instead be obtained by preventing the theft and misuse of most of the taxes they already pay.
If Great Britain cannot substantially increase its revenue from any of the sources mentioned above, its only remaining option is to cut its expenses. It may still be able to improve how it collects and spends public revenue. Even so, Great Britain seems at least as economical in both respects as any of its neighbors. In peacetime, it keeps a smaller military establishment for its own defense than any European state that can rival it in wealth or power. So none of these areas seems to offer substantial savings. Before the present disturbances began, the peacetime cost of maintaining the colonies was very large. This cost can be eliminated altogether and certainly should be if no revenue can be obtained from them. Yet large as this constant peacetime expense is, it is insignificant beside what defending the colonies has cost us in wartime. As already noted, the last war, fought entirely on account of the colonies, cost Great Britain upwards of ninety millions. The Spanish war of 1739 was fought mainly on their account. In that war and the French war that followed it, Great Britain spent upwards of forty millions. A large part of that expense should fairly be charged to the colonies. In these two wars, the colonies cost Great Britain much more than twice the entire national debt before the first war began. Without these wars, that debt could have been, and probably would by now have been, paid off completely. Without the colonies, the first war might not have been fought, and the second certainly would not have been. This money was spent on the colonies because they were supposed to be provinces of the British Empire. But countries that contribute neither revenue nor military forces to support the empire cannot be considered provinces. They might be called accessories: a kind of splendid, showy display for the empire. But if the empire can no longer afford to maintain this display, it certainly ought to give it up. If it cannot increase revenue to match expenses, it should at least bring expenses into line with revenue. If the colonies are still to be considered provinces of the British empire despite their refusal to accept British taxes, defending them in a future war may cost Great Britain as much as it has in any past war. For more than a century, Great Britain's rulers have entertained the people with the idea that they possess a great empire west of the Atlantic. But so far this empire has existed only in their imaginations. It has not been an empire, but a plan for an empire; not a gold mine, but a plan for a gold mine. The plan has cost, continues to cost, and, if pursued as before, is likely to cost an immense amount, with no likely profit. As has been shown, the monopoly on colonial trade brings the great majority of people only loss, not profit. Surely it is time for our rulers either to make this golden dream real—a dream they may have indulged in as much as the people have—or to wake up from it and try to wake up the people. If the plan cannot be completed, it should be abandoned. If any provinces of the British empire cannot be made to help support the whole empire, it is surely time for Great Britain to stop paying to defend them in wartime and to maintain any part of their civil or military establishments in peacetime. It should adjust its future aims and plans to its actual, modest resources.