Book IV, Chapter VII, 6

The absolute governments of Spain, Portugal, and France, by contrast, prevail in their colonies; and the discretionary powers that such governments commonly delegate to every subordinate officer are naturally exercised there, because of the great distance, with more than ordinary violence. Under all absolute governments, there is more liberty in the capital than anywhere else in the country. The sovereign himself can have neither an interest in nor an inclination to corrupt the administration of justice or oppress the great body of the people. In the capital, his presence overawes his subordinate officers to some degree; in remoter provinces, where the people's complaints are less likely to reach him, they can exercise their tyranny much more safely. But the European colonies in America are farther away than the most distant provinces of any empire previously known. The government of the English colonies is perhaps the only one since the world began that could give complete security to the inhabitants of such a distant province. The French colonies, however, have always been governed with much greater gentleness and moderation than the Spanish and Portuguese. This superiority of conduct accords both with the character of the French nation and with what shapes the character of every nation: the nature of its government, which, though arbitrary and violent compared with that of Great Britain, is lawful and free compared with those of Spain and Portugal.

It is in the progress of the North American colonies, however, that the superiority of English policy chiefly appears. The progress of the French sugar colonies has at least equaled, and perhaps surpassed, that of most English sugar colonies; yet the English sugar colonies enjoy a free government nearly like that of England's colonies in North America. But the French sugar colonies are not discouraged, as the English ones are, from refining their own sugar; and, more importantly still, the character of their government naturally leads to better management of their enslaved Black workers.

In all European colonies, sugarcane is cultivated by enslaved Black people. Those born in Europe's temperate climate are thought unable to endure the labor of digging the ground under the burning West Indian sun; and sugarcane cultivation, as presently practiced, is entirely manual labor, though many believe the drill plow could be introduced to great advantage. But just as the profit and success of cultivation using cattle depend greatly on the good management of those cattle, so the profit and success of cultivation using slaves must equally depend on the good management of those slaves; and it is generally acknowledged, I believe, that French planters manage their slaves better than the English. A law that offers the slave some slight protection against the master's violence is likelier to be enforced in a colony whose government is largely arbitrary than in one whose government is wholly free. Wherever the unfortunate law of slavery is established, a magistrate protecting a slave interferes to some degree in the management of the master's private property. In a free country, where the master may be a member of the colonial assembly or an elector of one, the magistrate dares do so only with the greatest care and circumspection. The deference he must show the master makes it harder for him to protect the slave. But in a country whose government is largely arbitrary, where magistrates commonly interfere even in the management of individuals' private property and may send them a lettre de cachet if they do not manage it to the magistrate's liking, he can more easily give the slave some protection; and common humanity naturally inclines him to do so. A magistrate's protection makes the slave less contemptible in the master's eyes, inducing the master to show greater regard and treat him more gently. Gentle treatment makes the slave not only more faithful but more intelligent, and thus more useful on both counts. His condition approaches that of a free servant, and he may acquire some integrity and attachment to his master's interest—virtues often found in free servants but impossible in a slave treated as slaves commonly are where the master is completely free and secure.

That a slave fares better under an arbitrary government than under a free one is, I believe, supported by the history of every age and nation. In Roman history, the first recorded intervention by a magistrate to protect a slave against his master's violence occurs under the emperors. When Vidius Pollio, in Augustus's presence, ordered a slave who had committed a slight fault cut to pieces and thrown into his fishpond to feed his fish, the indignant emperor commanded him to free at once not only that slave but every other slave he owned. Under the republic, no magistrate could have had enough authority to protect the slave, much less punish the master.

The stock that has improved the French sugar colonies, particularly the great colony of St Domingo, has been raised almost entirely through the gradual improvement and cultivation of those colonies themselves. It has consisted almost wholly of the produce of the colonists' land and industry—or, what amounts to the same thing, the price of that produce—gradually accumulated through good management and employed to raise still more produce. Much of the stock that has improved and cultivated the English sugar colonies, however, was sent from England, and is by no means entirely the produce of the colonists' land and industry. The prosperity of the English sugar colonies has owed much to England's great wealth, some of which has, so to speak, overflowed into these colonies. But the prosperity of the French sugar colonies has been entirely due to the colonists' good management, which must therefore have been superior in some respect to that of the English; nowhere has this superiority been more evident than in their management of their slaves.

Such have been the broad outlines of the policies of the different European nations toward their colonies.

The policy of Europe, then, has very little to boast of either in the original establishment of the American colonies or, as regards their internal government, in their subsequent prosperity.

Folly and injustice seem to have governed and directed the first project of establishing these colonies: the folly of hunting for gold and silver mines, and the injustice of coveting a country whose harmless native inhabitants, far from ever having harmed the people of Europe, welcomed the first adventurers with every sign of kindness and hospitality.

The adventurers who founded some of the later settlements did indeed add more reasonable and praiseworthy motives to the fanciful project of finding gold and silver mines; but even these motives do little credit to European policy.

The English Puritans, restrained at home, fled to America in search of freedom and established the four governments of New England. The English Catholics, treated with much greater injustice, established Maryland; the Quakers, Pennsylvania. Portuguese Jews, persecuted by the Inquisition, stripped of their fortunes, and banished to Brazil, set an example that introduced some measure of order and industry among the transported criminals and prostitutes who originally populated that colony, and taught them to cultivate sugarcane. In all these instances, it was not the wisdom and policy but the disorder and injustice of European governments that peopled and cultivated America.

The various European governments deserve as little credit for carrying out some of the most important of these settlements as for conceiving them. The conquest of Mexico was the project not of the council of Spain but of a governor of Cuba; it was accomplished by the bold adventurer entrusted with it, despite everything the governor—who soon regretted trusting such a man—could do to obstruct him. The conquerors of Chili and Peru, and of almost every other Spanish settlement on the American continent, took with them no public encouragement beyond a general permission to found settlements and make conquests in the name of the king of Spain. All these ventures were undertaken at the adventurers' private risk and expense. The Spanish government contributed almost nothing to any of them. The English government contributed just as little to the establishment of some of its most important colonies in North America.

Once these settlements had been established and grown large enough to attract the mother country's attention, her first regulations concerning them were always intended to secure for herself a monopoly of their commerce: to restrict their market and enlarge her own at their expense, and thus to check and discourage, rather than hasten and promote, their prosperity. One of the most essential differences between European nations' colonial policies lies in the different ways they have exercised this monopoly. The best of them, England's, is only somewhat less restrictive and oppressive than all the others.

In what way, then, has European policy contributed either to the initial establishment or to the present greatness of the American colonies? In one way, and one way alone, it has contributed considerably. Magna virum mater! It bred and formed men capable of such great deeds and of laying the foundations of so great an empire; no other part of the world has a policy capable of forming such men, or has in fact ever formed them. The colonies owe to European policy the education and broad ambitions of their energetic and enterprising founders; and some of the greatest and most important colonies, as far as their internal government is concerned, owe it almost nothing else.

PART III. On the Advantages Europe Has Derived from the Discovery of America and from the Discovery of a Passage to the East Indies by the Cape of Good Hope.

Such are the advantages the American colonies have derived from European policy.

What advantages has Europe derived from the discovery and colonization of America?

These may be divided, first, into the general advantages that Europe, considered as one great country, has derived from those great events; and second, into the particular advantages each colonizing country has derived from its own colonies through the authority or dominion it exercises over them.

The general advantages that Europe, considered as one great country, has derived from the discovery and colonization of America consist, first, in an increase in what its inhabitants can enjoy and, second, in an expansion of its industry.

America's surplus produce, imported into Europe, provides the inhabitants of that great continent with a variety of commodities they could not otherwise have possessed—some for convenience and use, some for pleasure, and some for ornament—and thus increases what they can enjoy.

The discovery and colonization of America have clearly helped expand the industry, first, of all countries trading with it directly, such as Spain, Portugal, France, and England; and, second, of countries that, without trading with it directly, send it goods of their own production through other countries, such as Austrian Flanders and some provinces of Germany, which send substantial quantities of linen and other goods through the countries just mentioned. All these countries have plainly gained a wider market for their surplus produce and must therefore have been encouraged to increase it.

It may be less obvious that these great events have also encouraged the industry of countries such as Hungary and Poland, which perhaps have never sent America a single commodity of their own production. Yet there can be no doubt that they have. Some American produce is consumed in Hungary and Poland, where there is demand for the sugar, chocolate, and tobacco of that new part of the world. But these commodities must be purchased either with the produce of Hungarian and Polish industry or with something itself purchased with part of that produce. These American commodities are new values, new equivalents, brought into Hungary and Poland to be exchanged for those countries' surplus produce. In being brought there, they create a new and wider market for that surplus, raise its value, and thereby encourage its growth. Though none of it may ever go to America, it may go to other countries that buy it with part of their own share of America's surplus produce; it may find a market through the circulation of a trade originally set in motion by that American surplus.

These great events may even have increased what people enjoy and expanded the industry of countries that have neither sent goods to America nor received goods from it. Even they may have received a greater abundance of other commodities from countries whose surplus produce has grown through American trade. This greater abundance must necessarily have increased what they could enjoy, and must also have expanded their industry. More new equivalents of one kind or another must have become available to exchange for that industry's surplus produce. A wider market must have arisen for that surplus, raising its value and encouraging its growth. The mass of commodities annually poured into the great circuit of European commerce, and distributed each year through its various movements among all the nations within it, must have grown by the whole surplus produce of America. A greater share of this greater mass is therefore likely to have fallen to each nation, increasing what its people could enjoy and expanding its industry.

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.