THE
POLITICAL TEXT BOOK
COMPRISING A VIEW OF THE
ORIGIN AND OBJECTS OF GOVERNMENT,
AND
lExamtnatton
OF THE
PRINCIPAL SOCIAL AND POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS
OF ENGLAND.
Compiled from the best Authorities.
BY WILLIAM CARPENTER.
The vices and virtues of a state are the effects of its
legislation." HELVETIUS.
LONDON :
WILLIAM STRANGE, 21, PATERNOSTER ROW.
1833.
J*
u
*?
!\B a-ATj-
MAR 21 1366
" OF
2
ADVERTISEMENT.
THE title page and table of contents will suf-
ficiently explain the nature and objects of this little
work. The great struggle between the dominant
few and the oppressed many is now commenced in
right earnest ; and the period of its duration, as well
as the success of its final issue, are wholly depend-
ant upon the kind and extent of popular knowledge.
To emancipate society from its multifarious evils, we
must distinctly trace out the causes in which they
take their rise. An enlightened conviction of these
would cut short the controversy which has been car-
ried on for ages between the two great classes into
which society is divided, and secure to the pro-
ducers the management of their own affairs, and
the enjoyment of the fruits of their own industry.
THE POLITICAL TEXT BOOK has been compiled
with a view to this object, and it is presumed that he
who will make himself familiar with the principles
and facts embodied in its pages, will be fitted to con-
tribute in no small degree towards the regeneration
of society, and the happiness of mankind.
CONTENTS.
PART I.
OF SOCIETY AND GOVERNMENT.
Chap. Page
I. THE ORIGIN AND OBJECTS OF SOCIETY . . 3
II. THE BASIS AND FORMS OF SOCIETY . . 8
Sec. 1. The Social Compact . . . . ib.
2. The Individual or Competitive System 10
3. The Social, or Co-operative System , 24
III. CIVIL GOVERNMENT 45
Sec. 1. The Origin and Objects of Government ib.
2. The Foundation of Civil Government . 51
IV. FORMS OF GOVERNMENT .... 53
Sec. 1. Democracy or Republicanism . . 54
2. Aristocracies and Oligarchies . . 61
3. Monarchies. . . . . 63
4. Mixed Governments . .. . . 70
5. Despotisms . . , . ' . . . 75
VI CONTENTS.
Chap. Page
V. HEREDITARY SUCCESSION .... 77
VI. THE REPRESENTATIVE SYSTEM ... 80
Sec. 1. The Constituency . . . .81
(a) Its Extent ib.
(b) Its Independence .... 88
2. The Representative Body ... 89
(a) Requisites . . . . ib.
(b) Advantages . . . . .91
(c) Power and Jurisdiction ... 92
VII. THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION ... 94
Sec. 1. Its Component Character . . ib.
2. The Executive Power 1 1 1
PART II.
OF POLITICAL RIGHTS, DUTIES, AND RE-
STRAINTS.
I. POLITICAL RIGHTS 115
Sec. 1. Civil Liberty . . . ib.
2. Religious Liberty . . . .123
3.. The Liberty of Free Discussion . .126
CONTENTS. vil
Chap. Page
II. POLITICAL RESTRAINTS .... 128
III. THE FORCE AND AUTHORITY OF LAW . 131
IV. THE OBJECT OF PUNISHMENT . . . 132
V. THE ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE . .134
VI. THE LIMITS OF POLITICAL OBEDIENCE . 137
VII. SOCIAL OBLIGATIONS . 138
PART III.
OF THE SOURCE, CREATION, AND DISTRI-
BUTION OF WEALTH.
I. LABOUR 141
Sec. 1. The Division of Labour . . .143
2. Productive Labour . . . .147
3. Unproductive Labour . . .149
H._.CAPITAL " .151
III. MONEY 175
Sec. 1. The Origin and Use of Money . . ib.
2. Gold and Paper Currency . . .188
IV. THE FUNDING SYSTEM . . . . 191
V. COMMERCE /' .. . . . 197
Viii CONTENTS.
PART IV.
OF PROPERTY.
Chap. Page
I. PRIVATE PROPERTY, GENERALLY . . . 208
II. PRIVATE PROPERTY IN LAND . . . 214
PART V.
OF POLITICAL AND RELIGIOUS DISTINC-
TIONS.
I. AN ARISTOCRACY AND HEREDITARY PEERAGE 226
II. HONORARY TITLES 234
III. ECCLESIASTICAL ESTABLISHMENTS . . 235
A LIST OF THE BOOKS
Used in Compiling the following Work.
L*. ABBOTT'S History of the Roman and English Hierar-
chies.
ADDRESS to the Members of Trade Societies, by a
LABOURER./^. i?*-*,
BACON'S (Lord)
BENTHAM'S Plan of Parliamentary
BALLANTYNE'S Comparison of the Established and Dis-
senting C
-^- BLACKSTONE'S Commentaries oifTHeTTaws of
BOLINGBROKE'S
BURKE'S
BURTON'S Anatomy of Melancholy.^,
CARPENTER'S Political Magazine.
-- Political and Historical
- Political Letters.
CATO'S Letters, translated by Trenchard.x^* -
COBBETT'S Paper against Gold.^,^.^^,^.
COMMERCE. Library of Useful Knowledge.
COOPER'S Bravo.^
DOUGLAS'S Advancement of Societ in Knowlede and
Religion/.*
ECONOMIST (the), by J.
EXTRAORDINARY BLACK
ENSOR on National
EDMONDS'S Practical, Moral, and Political
I. n
A LIST OF THE BOOKS, &C.
FRANKLIN'S Essays.^
GODWIN'S Political
GRAY'S Lecture on Happiness
- Social System.
HALL'S (Rev. R.).Works; edited by G
HELVETIUS on Maiu^/^/^.^^^
HODGKIN'S Popular Political Economy.
HUME'S Essays.^.^/
JOYCE'S Abridgment of Smith's Wealth of Nations.
JUNIUS'S LetterSj^X^^j. tea 12 2136.
LETTER to Lord Brougham, on Union of Church and
LABOUR
LOCKE on Civil
MANDEVILLE'S Fable of the
MILTON'S Prose
MONTESQUIEU'S Spirit
OWEN'S Report to the County of Lanark.
- Lectures on a New State
PARLIAMENTARY DEBATES. Hansard.
SMITH'S Wealth of Nations./^. *W,
SWIFT'S Works^./3-Z-^>-J^
THOMPSON'S Labour Rewa
UTILITARIAN CATECHISM.
VOLTAIRE'S Philosophical Dictionary.
WESTMINSTER
THE
POLITICAL TEXT BOOK,
PART I.
OF SOCIETY AND GOVERNMENT.
CHAPTER I.
THE ORIGIN AND OBJECTS OF SOCIETY.
THE principal aim of society is to protect individuals in
the enjoyment of those absolute rights which were vested
in them by the immutable laws of nature; but which could
riot be preserved in peace without that mutual assistance
and intercourse which is gained by the institution of
friendly and social communities. Hence it follows, that
the first and primary end of human laws is to maintain
and regulate these absolute rights of individuals. Such
rights as are social and relative, result from, and are poste-
rior to, the formation of states and societies : so that to
maintain and regulate these is clearly a subsequent con-
sideration. And therefore the principal view of humau
laws is, or ought always to be, to explain, protect, and
enforce such rights as are absolute, which in themselves
are few and simple ; and then such rights as are relative,
which, arising from a variety of connexions, will be far
more numerous and complicated. Blackstoiie.
Some writers have so confounded society with govern-
ment, as to leave little or no distinction between them :
whereas, they are not only different, but have different
origins. Society is produced by our wants, and govern-
ment by our wickedness; the former promotes our hap-
piness positively, by uniting our affections : the latter,
B 2
4 THE ORIGIN AND OBJECTS
negatively, by restraining our vices. The one encourages
intercourse, the other creates distinctions. The first is a
patron; the last a punisher. Society, in every state, is a
blessing ; but government, even in its best state, is but a
necessary evil; in its worst state, an intolerable one.
Paine.
Let us suppose a small number of persons settled in
some sequestered part of the earth, unconnected with the
rest ; they will then represent the first peopling of any
country, or of the world. In this state of natural liberty,
society will be their first thought. A thousand motives
will excite them thereto ; the strength of one man is so
unequal to his wants, and his mind so unfitted for perpetual
solitude, that he is soon obliged to seek assistance and
relief of another, who in his turn requires the same. Four
or five united, would be able to raise a tolerable dwelling
in the midst of a wilderness : but one man might labour
out the common period of his life without accomplishing
any thing ; when he felled his timber he could not remove
it, nor erect it after it was removed ; hunger in the mean
time would urge him from his work, and every different
want call him a different way. Disease, nay, even mis-
fortune, would be death; for though neither might be
mortal, yet either would disable him from living, and
reduce him to a state in which he might be rather said to
perish than to die. Thus, necessity, like a gravitation
power, would soon form our newly arrived emigrants into
society, the reciprocal blessings of wnich would supersede
and render the obligations of Law and Government unne-
cessary, while they remained perfectly just to each other.
Idem.
Political arrangement is more or less perfect, in propor-
tion as it enables us to exert our natural liberty to the
greatest advantage ; if it is directed to any other purpose,
it is made the instrument of gratifying the passions of a
few; if it imposes greater restraint than its object prescribes,
it degenerates into tyranny and oppression. Robert Hall.
The interest of the community is merely the interest of
the individuals who compose it. No law, nor act, nor
government, can be for the advantage of the community,
which has not a tendency to augment the happiness of the
individual members of the community, in a greater degree
than to diminish it. Anon.
OF SOCIETV. 5
The rights of men, in a state of society, extend to the
doing every thing 1 which is not injurious to another.
Anon.
Political society is founded in the principles of morality
and justice. It is impossible for intellectual beings to be
brought into coalition and intercourse without a certain
mode of conduct, adapted to their nature and connection,
immediately becoming a duty on the parties concerned.
Men would never have associated, if they had not imagined
that in consequence of that association they would mutu-
ally conduce to the advantage and happiness of each other.
This is the real purpose, the genuine basis, of their inter-
course ; and as far as this purpose is answered, so far does
society answer the end of its institution. Godwin.
When, by virtue of the first laws, part of the society
accumulated wealth and grew powerful, they enacted others
more severe, and would protect their property at the ex-
pense of humanity. This was abusing their power, and
commencing a tyranny. If a savage, before he entered
into society, had been told, " Your neighbour by this means
may become owner of a hundred deer ; but if your brother,
or your son, or yourself, having no deer of your own, and
being hungry, should kill one, an infamous death must be
the consequence," he would probably have preferred his
liberty, and his common right of killing any deer, to all
the advantages of society that might be proposed to him.
Franklin.
In a state of nature, it is an invariable law, that a man's
acquisitions are in proportion to his labours. In a state of
artificial society, it is a law as constant and invariable, that
those who labour most, enjoy the fewest things ; and that
those who labour not at all, have the greatest number of
enjoyments. A constitution of things this, strange and
ridiculous beyond expression. We scarcely believe a
thing when we are told it, which we actually see before
our eyes every day without being the least surprised.
Burke.
The science of society consists of four divisions 1st.
the production of all things necessary for the happiness of
man; 2nd. the distribution of these things; 3rd. the forma-
tion of the character of every individual ; and 4th. the
government, foreign and domestic. To understand the
science, these parts must be known separately and unitedly.
G THE ORIGIN AND OBJECTS
1. Of Production. In all societies of men, a certain por-
tion of their powers must be applied to create what they
consume and use ; such as food, clothes, dwellings, furni-
ture, &c. This is called production; and whenever the
power of production shall be rightly directed, to create the
best things in the best manner, for the general benefit, then
it may be said that this power is applied scientifically.
2. Of Distribution. By distribution is meant the arrange-
ments applied to convey to, and divide among, all the
members of society, the various articles of wealth produced
for the use and enjoyment of the population. When these
arrangements shall be effected in such a manner as to
secure the least loss of labour to the whole community,
this department may be said to be scientifically performed.
At present, the wealth produced by society is distributed
in the worst possible manner. Probably, the waste of
capital and labour in this department, is forty to one more
than is necessary.
3. Of the formation of character. By this is meant the
arrangement of circumstances of human formation, which,
acting upon each individual, form the character of the
population, from infancy to maturity. When these arrange-
ments are all devised to produce proper impressions and
superior dispositions, habits, manners, knowledge, and
conduct, in every individual, so as to form them into ra-
tional beings that is, that they shall always act and think
rationally then it may be said, that the principles of the
formation of character have been scientifically applied to
practice. At present, the arrangements for forming the
character of the population of all countries, are so ill-con-
trived, so inconsistent, and so injurious to all, that they
may be truly said to be arrangements to prevent men
becoming rational creatures to keep them in a state of
poverty and insanity and to guard effectually against
their acquiring any knowledge of truth, upon subjects the
most important to their well-being and happiness.
4. Of Government. By government is meant, the laws
and regulations by which production, distribution, and the
formation of character, are arranged and directed. When
all the details in the departments of production, distri-
bution, and the formation of character, separately and
unitedly, shall be arranged and directed in the best manner,
to secure, permanently, to each individual, a full supply of
OF SOCIETY. 7
the best of every thing for human nature to produce,
physically, mentally, and morally, the best character in
each individual and unite all in a broad and real affection
and charity, so that " each shall love his neighbour as him-
self," and " there shall be peace on earth, and good-will
among men," then it may be said that government has
been scientifically arranged, for the benefit of mankind.
Owen.
By tracing society to its origin, and ascertaining the
purposes for which it was designed, we demolish sophistry,
and lay bare the imposition of the defenders of privileged
classes and exclusive rights. Society is based upon a
principle of perfect equality, which knows no such dis-
tinctions as rich and poor, noble and ignoble, patrician
and plebeian, aristocrat and democrat, rulers and ruled.
These are all distinctions produced by society itself, and
are separable from the original constitution of the social
fabric. Their justice and utility are legitimate subjects
for investigation and determination. Carpenter.
The interest of the whole society is binding upon every
part of it. No rule, short of this, will provide for the sta-
bility of civil government, or for the peace and v safety of
social life. Wherefore, as individual members of the state
are not permitted to pursue their private emolument to the
prejudice of the community, so it is equally a consequence
of this rule, that no particular colony, province, town, or
district, can justly concert measures for their separate
interest, which shall appear at the same time to diminish
the sum of public prosperity .... Those counsels can
never be reconciled with the obligations resulting from
civil union, which cause the whole happiness of the society
to be impaired for the convenience of a part. Paley.
8
CHAPTER II.
THE BASIS AND FORMS OF SOCIETY.
SECTION I.
THE SOCIAL COMPACT.
ACCORDING to Schelling, there are three eras of exist-
ence. The first, which is past, was the reign of Chance or
Chaos ; the second, which now exists, is that of Nature ;
and the third, is that of an Infinite Mind, which does not
yet exist, but will hereafter be developed, and will absorb
all finite being. Without entering a verdict of philosophic
lunacy against the greatest of living men, as some of his
countrymen have called him, or stopping to attend to those
fields of science in nubibus, which have been cultivated by
the school of Kant, with so much diligence, fervour, and
self-applause, it may merely be remarked, that this bright
sally of transcendental insanity affords no bad illustration
of that which takes place in human society. We are now
living in " the era of Nature," in which the various forms
of intellect are developed and flourish ; but that General
Mind is only about to disclose itself, which will embrace,
cherish, arid reunite all into one limitless, all-pervading
spirit of intelligence. Douglas.
If a number of men act together at all, the necessity of
being determined by the sense of the majority, in the last
resort, is so obvious, that it is always implied. An exact
concurrence of many particular wills is impossible; and
therefore, when each taken separately has precisely the
same influence, there can be no hardship in suffering the
result to remain at issue, till it is determined by the coin-
cidence of the greater number. The idea of natural liberty,
at least, is so little violated by this method of proceeding,
that it is no more than what takes place every day in the
smallest society, where the necessity of being determined
by the voice of the majority is so plain, that it is scarcely
ever reflected upon. Robert Hall.
When any number of men are formed into a community,
it is the result of necessity, that the decision of the majority
should determine the whole body. To say that at any
BASIS AND FORMS OF SOCIETY. 9
time the smaller number should either prevail, or that they
might be excused from abiding by the decision of the larger
number, is to say that no state or community shall exist
at all. It would be a return to a state of nature, and a
dissolution of any compact made or implied. The majority,
therefore, has a right in all cases to decide the proper oc-
casions and degrees of that restraint, which, as a political
body, it is to place upon all the individuals composing it.
Men may differ in their opinions in their predictions of
consequences, they may and ought to be allowed the full
liberty of endeavouring to gain over a majority to act upon
their view. But no practical dissent can be tolerated.
They may talk persuade entreat and complain but
the moment they act against the decision of the majority,
they commit treason, and are to be proceeded against as
traitors. Anon.
Every thing like an act in opposition to the will of the
majority is treason, and must be dealt with as such. But
any attempt to influence the .opinion of other members of
the state, is what reason and sound policy sanction and
approve. If the proposed measure be bad, show it to be
so. If it have an evil tendency, point out the tendency,
and prove it to be evil; it will only be acted upon, on the
supposition of its being good. However it may appear to
you, if it be calculated to influence the opinion of the ma-
jority, it ought to be permitted to exert that influence. If
the people choose to worship a golden calf, no one has a
right to overthrow the idol ; but every body has a right to
make the attempt at reasoning them out of their idolatry.
If the people choose to elect one or more hereditary
governors, with almost every chance of misgovernmeut, on
the side of the election; if they choose to be governed and
scourged at the same time, no one has a right to wrest the
scourge from the authorized hand ; but every one should
have leave to show the wretchedness and folly of the pro-
ceeding, and to prove the justice of returning such favours
in kind, at the first opportunity. A limited right to dis-
seminate opinions is wnolly inconsistent with a free govern-
ment ; and, upon the ground stated its tendency to per-
petuate every existing error. On the other hand, no man
has any righjt to complain that any of his acts are limited,
if that check be thought necessary by the majority. It is
his duty to assert, if he think so, that there is more lost
10 THE INDIVIDUAL, OK
than gained by the restraint in question to take every
means of bringing over others to his opinion, so that a
majority may at last decree its removal ; but, until then,
he must not dare to neglect compliance with its positive
dictates, nor rise in any species of active opposition to the
law, upon the pain of its penalties. Westminster Review.
SECTION II.
THE INDIVIDUAL, OR COMPETITIVE SYSTEM.
IT has been, and still is, a received opinion among theo-
rists in political economy, that man can provide better
for himself, and more advantageously for the public, when
left to his own individual exertion, opposed to, and in com-
petition with, his fellows, than when aided by any social
arrangements which shall unite his interests individually
and generally with society. This principle of individual
interest, opposed, as it is perpetually, to the public good,
is considered by the most celebrated of the political econo-
mists to be the corner-stone of the social system, and with-
out which society could not exist. Yet, when they shall
discover the wonderful effects which combination and unity
can produce, they will acknowledge that the present ar-
rangement of society is the most anti-social, impolitic, and
irrational, that can be devised ; that under its influence, all
the superior and valuable qualities of human nature are
repressed from infancy, and that the most unnatural means
are used to bring out the most injurious propensities : in
short, that the utmost pains are taken to make that which
by nature is the most delightful compound for producing
excellence and happiness, absurd, imbecile, and wretched.
Owen.
Like so many buckets in a well, as one riseth, another
falleth, one's empty, another's full ; his ruin is a ladder to
the third ; such are our ordinary proceedings. What's the
market ? A place, according to Anacharsis, wherein they
cozen one another, a trap; nay, what's the world itself?
A vast chaos, a confusion of manners, as fickle as the air,
domicilium insanorum, a turbulent troop of impurities, a
mart of walking spirits, goblins, the theatre of hypocrisy,
a shop full of knavery, flattery, a nursery of villany, the
COMPETITIVE SYSTEM. H
scene of babbing, the school of giddiness, the academy of
vice ; a warfare ubi veils no/is pugnanditm, ant vincas aut{
succumbas, in which kill, of be killed; wherein every man
is for himself, his private ends, and stands upon his own
guard. Burton.
In the Individual System, each man acts for himsel
alone. Individual power, wealth, learning, fame, are aspired
to by the mass of mankind, according to their various
talents and opportunities ; and the means by which these
are pursued, are right or wrong, honourable or dishonour-
able, virtuous or criminal, according to the moral character
of each individual. According to this system, there is a
strong tendency for power, wealth, and even for learning
and science to accumulate in a few hands, while mankind
at large, are weak, poor, ignorant, and, in a word, barbarous.
This system is necessarily a mixture of extremes, as to
power, wealth, and poverty ; despotism in some, slavery
in others, are almost inseparable from it. The learning
which exists in such a state of society, is in like manner
extremely liable to monopoly. Privilege and caste divide
the world into classes : each class is separated from the
others by the individual principle, while within each class,
the same principle divides the members as much from each
other, as if they belonged to a different rank ; thus also, a
principle of competition is established, each man consider-
ing his neighbour as a rival, who stands in the way of his
own prosperity, and whom he must by every means in his
power out-strip or supplant. Excessive competition is so
essential to this system, that it is the grand motive incul-
cated upon every child from its birth ; high or low, rich or
poor, all are stimulated from the cradle, in all their childish
pastimes, and in all their elementary education, to aim
only at one object, which is to get above a neighbour. A
comparison is drawn, not between the pupil and the sub-
ject, but between one pupil and another. A boy is not
simply to acquire knowledge, but to know more than
another ; not to select the most useful studies, but to excel
in those which are most in vogue; not to hold correct
opinions, but to defend those that are held ; not to search
for truth, but to bow to authority.
Whatever objections there may be to such a state of
society, theoretically viewed whatever abuses it may be
liable to whatever miseries it may be connected with
12 THE INDIVIDUAL, OR
yet, it is a system unavoidable in the infancy of the world;
it has been invented by no set of artful men, but it is the
growth of nature herself; the injuries, crimes, and miseries
of which it is accused, are the abuses, and not the essence
of the system ; and though a severe parent, it is still the
parent of the most momentous blessings to the world at
large.
The Individual System results necessarily and unavoid-
ably, among a set of beings, gifted with high and noble
faculties, born in a state of entire ignorance, and compelled
to support life by daily labour. Inequality of faculties,
character, and circumstances, must immediately give rise
to inequality of rank, and division of labour; and hence,
the origin of arts and sciences, and the ultimate regenera-
tion and happiness of the whole race. Had mankind
remained perfectly equal, they would for ever have re-
mained ignorant and barbarous. Their boasted equality
would have been an equality of degradation, of mere animal
life, beyond which they never would have advanced. The
very mode in which beings are introduced into the world,
the relation of old and young, of parent and child, at once
destroys all trace of equality. The simple yet important
fact, that knowledge is acquired, not innate that know-
ledge is the result of experience and time that it generally
grows with our growth this simple fact proclaims at once
two momentous truths, that rank is unequal, and that man
is progressive.
It is true, that the mere labourer is a man of few ideas,
of narrow mind, of low desires : but, his incessant labour
gives leisure to others, that leisure gives rise to reflection
(properly so called), to knowledge of all kinds, to arts and
sciences. The mind of man is enabled to unfold itself;
the nature and qualities of its powers are tried and proved;
and a new world, totally different from that with which
his daily wants are connected, begins to be entered upon.
The world of mind, of intellectual power, of spiritual re-
finement, of moral perfection, would never have been known
to man, without inequality of rank, and without the Indi-
vidual System. That principle in man, by which whole
tribes and nations are induced to look up to one individual,
a creature in every respect like themselves, with a degree
of awe and veneration approaching to religious homage,
and which makes it even a duty to consider him as the
COMPETITIVE SYSTEM. 13
absolute master of their lives and property; this very
principle, acting under different modifications, is also the
parent of civilization, and of the progressive improvement
of man.
In the Individual System, as all power emanates from
one to many, so all knowledge follows the same direction.
The course, indeed, of knowledge is more especially con-
fined to that one direction. Knowledge being progressive,
must necessarily be an object of discovery and invention.
Some one individual must first be the happy person to
become acquainted with a new fact and a new truth ; from
him it must be communicated to others, who become the
instruments of handing it on still farther, till it descends
to the lowest of mankind. So one country shall attain a
superior degree of light and knowledge to other nations,
and be the means of illuminating those that sit in ignorance
and darkness.
Those who have paid much attention to knowledge, and
have self-reflection enough to watch the progress of their
own minds, are the best to judge of the extreme slowness
with which the first steps are made in the cultivation of
the faculties, and the first grains picked up on the golden
mountain of knowledge. They also must see the extreme
importance of assistance at the outset; when artificial signs
come to be studied instead of things themselves ; and the
obscure and often absurd records of man, are to be com-
pared with facts and things, and to be received or rejected,
by the principles of eternal truth. The first steps in know-
ledge are indeed extremely difficult and laborious, and
require exclusive leisure of time, as well as a mind of a
peculiar turn. Thus, in the early period of the world,
ages might roll away before the leisure of the division of
ranks could give birth to any thing deserving the name of
knowledge or science. The wonder is, not that man has
not achieved more, but rather that he was able to achieve
so much, under such disadvantages.
The Individual System, therefore, seems to have been
absolutely necessary for the birth of arts and sciences, be-
cause absolutely necessary for the leisure required. Nor
when power was thus accumulated in the hands of a few,
are we to conclude that the few would necessarily mis-
direct it. History, indeed, teems with the deeds of power,
often employed in a questionable shape; but, that the
14 THE INDIVIDUAL, OR
possessors of power entered into a tacit combination against
the happiness of the world, is not the lesson of history.
We should rather say, that the exertions of power have,
on the whole, been eminently beneficial to the race, and
that its benefits are still only in their infancy. Arts and
sciences were as essential for the purposes of power, as for
the common comforts of man. Men of science, knowledge,
and learning, were the right hand of power ; by them only
could plans of self-defence, or of enterprise, or of domestic
and national grandeur, be conceived and executed. There-
fore, schools, and colleges, and scientific institutions, were
among the early objects of wealthy kings. The necessity
of leisure for study, shut out all idea that universal know--
ledge was a thing practicable or desirable : but, compared
with the state of the world, very extensive schools were
formed for the dissemination of that knowledge which was
known or deemed desirable. We must not judge the
measures of olden time by rules derived from a new state
of the world ; it is sufficient for their credit and glory, that
they faithfully served the system to which they belonged,
and the only system for which the world was fitted.
We have thus endeavoured to explain the nature of this
system. It was admirably adapted to the infancy of so-
ciety ; and the high stimulus which it held out to the exer-
tions of individuals, in every direction, was so much bounty
upon the production of knowledge. Knowledge would
have required a much greater length of time for its perfec-
tion, had it not been forced forward in this hot-bed of
zeal and ambition ; if, indeed, it could ever have grown
at all.
But the time has now arrived when the labourer may
begin to reap the fruit which has been ripening under the
Individual System. Knowledge, which was formerly con-
fined to a few closets, is now in every body's hands. The
methods of acquiring that knowledge, which were formerly
long, irksome, and laborious, are now short, pleasant, and
easy. Ten years of study are now reduced to one. Even
the use of books is now better understood that they are
aids to knowledge, and not substitutes for it. Machinery
has reached that state, when it dispenses with a great por-
tion of the labourer's time arid the labourer begins to
understand, that what is powerful as an enemy, must be
equally powerful as a friend. The workman has also
COMPETITIVE SYSTEM. 15
acquired a power of reflection, and a freedom from passion,
which formerly disturbed his movements; in short, he has
acquired all the elements of co-operation, and wants only
to be habituated to the practice of it. Time and expe-
rience are as necessary for co-operation as for other insti-
tutions : many mistakes may be expected to be made
some failures may happen, from ignorance and inexpe-
rience; but, even these will be productive of good, and
great teachers of true principles; till, at last, all rocks
being clearly pointed out, co-operation will hold on its
course to the end of time. Anon.
The competition which exists in producing and distri-
buting wealth, necessarily creates a covered civil warfare
between the individuals who are engaged in the same
profession or business. Their interests are made to appear,
by the existing arrangements of society, to be directly
opposed one to another, and they are in opposition to
each other, to so great an extent, that feelings of enmity,
producing jealousy, discord, and anger, are but too fre-
quently the natural result of men being placed under cir-
cumstances compelling them to injure each other, in the
means by which they must maintain themselves and
families.
Individual and national competition and contest are the
best modes that have been, or perhaps can be, devised,
under the existing irrational notions of the world, by which
wealth can be created and distributed; and the object
desired is thereby effected, in some manner, to a certain
extent. But it is obtained by creating and calling into
full action the most inferior feelings, the meanest faculties,
the worst passions, and the most injurious vices, which
can be cultivated in human nature; and the objects sought
to be obtained by the measures, destructive as they are to
the well-being and happiness of mankind, are yet most
imperfectly obtained.
It is the true interest of society to procure a full suf-
ficiency of wealth of intrinsic value, and to distribute it for
the benefit of all, in the best manner; that is, with the least
labour to all the members of the society, and especially
with the least amount of unhealthy and disagreeable em-
ployment. Now, individual and national contest and com-
petition is a mode of producing wealth which, in connec-
tion with the other parts of the miserable system by which
16 THE INDIVIDUAL, OR
the world has ever yet been governed, requires ten or
twenty-fold more waste of labour, and unhealthy and dis-
agreeable occupation, than would be necessary under a
well-devised system of society.
The competition, now rendered unavoidable, between
individuals in producing wealth, compels them to apply
much capital and labour in their individual establishments,
which would not be required in a superior state of society,
and gives a wrong direction to a great part of the labour
and capital, by holding out inducements to create many
things possessing little or no intrinsic worth or usefulness.
But the waste of capital and labour, by unnecessary estab-
lishments, and by the production of useless or injurious
articles, created to tempt society to purchase them, are
small evils compared to the extent of the injurious feelings,
violent passions, vices, and miseries, unavoidably attendant
on a system of individual competition; and more especially
when that competition is carried to the extent it has now
attained in the commercial world, and particularly in Great
Britain.
Under such circumstances as are now prevalent through-
out the British dominions, individual competition is pro-
ductive of evils of every description; it takes the means of
supporting themselves, by their utmost exertions, from
many ; it gives to a few accidentally favoured individuals,
in every branch of industry, injurious advantages over the
mass, engaged in similar pursuits ; and as, in many cases,
it is a contest for the means of maintaining a respectable
situation and standing in society, or falling into a state of
degradation and pauperism, the feelings created between
the parties thus set in opposition to each other, are, in
almost all respects, the reverse of those which it is to the
interest of mankind should exist among the members of
every community.
Previous to the discovery of such enormous powers of
mechanism as are now possessed by society, there might,
possibly, be some necessity for injurious artificial motives,
to stimulate men to invent ; but of the truth of this suppo-
sition I am very doubtful. I believe there are no motives
which impel more powerfully to action than truth and jus-
tice, when directed by kindness and a knowledge of the
laws which govern human nature, in all its actions. Given.
It is certain, that there is no reason in nature why any
COMPETITIVE SYSTEM. 17
man should be exposed to poverty or want. The reason
why so many are poor, must therefore be sought for in the
institutions of society .... There now exists AN UNNATU-
RAL LIMIT TO THE PRODUCTION OF WEALTH .... We
will endeavour to explain this unnatural limit.
There must ever be two natural limits to the quantity of
wealth annually created by the labour of the people; viz.
the exhaustion of our productive powers, and the satisfac-
tion of our wants.
The truth of this must be evident. In the former in-
stance, it is certain that if the whole industry of the country
were called into action, and that industry aided by the
greatest mechanical power of which we have any knowledge,
the wealth of the country would have reached the greatest
extent that it could reach at any given period. And it is
also certain, that if we were in possession of as much wealth
as we desired, we should not trouble ourselves to create
more.
And it would be well for us, if there existed no other
limit to production than these two natural ones ; but, un-
fortunately, we have established a third, and this third
limit is COMPETITION. We will now endeavour to show
show that competition is the limit to production.
Under our present commercial arrangements, the pro-
duction of wealth is limited by the demand which there is
for it. The consumers of goods usually apply for them to
the retail venders of them, and the quantity of goods a
retail tradesman buys, is invariably regulated by the quan-
tity he expects to sell ; in other words, by the quantity he
expects a demand for in his shop. In the manufacturing
of goods, men are invariably regulated by the same prin-
ciple. It never enters into the calculations of manufac-
turers, how much cloth would be required to supply the
wants of mankind. It never forms any part of their busi-
ness to ascertain how many coats the whole population
ought to be supplied with in the course of a year, and how
much cloth would be required to make them : neither do
they ask themselves, how much cloth they have the power
of making. All they ask, all they require to know, is, how
much cloth they can dispose of at a profit; how much will
stock the shops and warehouses of their customers; in
other words, how much it is probable there will be a de-
mand for. It is this, and this alone, which regulates pro-
II. c
18 THE INDIVIDUAL, OR
duction. When more is produced than there is a demand
for, the market is said to be overstocked ; and when there
is less produce than there is a demand for, the market is
said to be understocked ; without the least regard either
to the satisfaction of our wants, or to the extent of our
powers of production. If, then, production is limited by
demand, the next inquiry that arises is, what is it that
limits demand ? We reply, that the demand for wealth is
limited by COMPETITION between man and man.
Let us examine the influence of this on the working
class : No person, dependent solely on his labour for sub-
sistence, can obtain more wealth than his labour will enable
him to purchase. Now, the quantity of wealth which a
working man receives, is always the least that his labour
can be purchased for; and the reason why he does not
obtain twice the quantity he obtains at present, is, because
if he, an individual, w r ere to demand it, and refuse to work
for a less quantity, he would be thrown out of employment
altogether, by another individual offering to do the same
work for the quantity now given or in other words, by
another individual competing with him.
It is, therefore, COMPETITION which reduces to the
lowest term the quantity of wealth obtained by the work-
ing class. Such of them as are unable to obtain employ-
ment, being still candidates for employment, will ever,
under a system of individual competition, have the effect
of keeping down the quantity obtained by the mass, to that
portion which is just sufficient to support life and continue
their race ; and if they hope ever to rise above this stand-
ard, while commerce is conducted upon its present prin-
ciples, they hope for that which they never can obtain for
any considerable length of time together.
If we consider the influence of this principle over the
commercial class, we shall find it the same. No tradesman,
who depends for his support solely on the profits acquired
by his business, can obtain more wealth than these profits
will enable him to purchase. Now, the quantity of wealth
which the trading class receives is the least that their ser-
vices can be purchased for. The reason why a tradesman
does not obtain twice the quantity he obtains at present,
is, because if he, an individual, were to demand double the
profit on the goods he sells, and refuse to sell them for a
less profit, he would lose his trade altogether, by another
COMPETITIVE SYSTEM. 19
individual offering to the public the same kind of goods at
the profit now obtained ; in other words, by another indi-
vidual competing with him. It is, therefore, COMPETITION
which fixes the quantity of wealth obtained by the trading
class. Every tradesman is rich or poor, according as his
exertions in business enable him to command a liberal or
scanty supply of the comforts and enjoyments of life ; and
this is invariably regulated by the largeness or smallness
of the profits which he is enabled to obtain by the sale of
goods. To prove that profits are limited by competition,
scarcely requires an argument ; a conclusive one however
will be, that if tradesmen uniformly sold goods at cost price,
they would obtain no income at all ! and the more they
compete with each other, the nearer to cost price each is
compelled to accept for them.
If we pass on to those persons whose incomes are derived
from the rent of houses, and from the interest of money,
we shall find that the quantity of wealth which they- are
enabled to obtain for their use, is also limited by competi-
tion. The quantity of wealth which the proprietors of
money and of houses receive, is the least that their houses
and money can be borrowed for. The reason why a capi-
talist of this kind does not obtain twice the quantity he
obtains at present, is, because if he, an individual, were to
demand it, that is, demand double the rent for his houses,
or double the interest for his money, and refuse to lend
them for a less remuneration, he would be prevented from
lending them at all, by another individual offering to lend
houses and money for the remuneration now obtained ; or
in other words, by another individual competing with him.
Thus, the income of every individual, and consequently
of the whole community, (except only those persons who
have fixed money incomes,) is LIMITED BY COMPETITION.
And each obtains the least that his labour, his services,
or the use of his property, can possibly be obtained
for.
It is competition, then, that limits the quantity of wealth
obtained by individuals; the quantity obtained by indi-
viduals, collectively, composes the aggregate quantity ob-
tained by the whole community; this aggregate quantity
forms the demand, and demand limits production.
When this subject is clearly understood, it will be seen
by all, that the exhaustion 01 our productive powers, and
c 2
20 THE INDIVIDUAL, OR
the satisfaction of our wants, are the only natural limits to
the production of wealth ; that so long as capital shall
continue to be employed in competition with capital, in-
stead of in conjunction with it, we shall never be able
either to exhaust our productive powers, or to satisfy our
wants; because production must ever be limited to the
quantity which the labour, the services, and the property
of the community will command.
There is yet one more observation to make on this sub-
ject. We are for ever told, that we have more articles of
wealth,. more produce, than we want. Strange and foolish
error! Let those who entertain such a thought understand
their own words. They say, we have more produce than
we want. They mean, we have more produce than there
is a demand for. When every human being has every
thing his heart can wish, then, and not till then, we shall
have as much produce as we want. But dreadful is the
contrast to this in society as it now is. Go, see your
wretched fellow-creatures, of which there are thousands in
this country, (England) hungry, houseless, and in rags, and
inquire of them, whether they have a superabundance
of wealth ! Go to your manufacturing towns, and see
the wretched producers of your wealth, ye who roll in
luxurious profusion ; ask of them whether they have
more than they have need of, and blush when ye tell us of
superabundance! We have frequently more produce than
we have a demand for a great deal more; but DEMAND i,s
LIMITED BY COMPETITION : abolish THIS, and demand
shall be equal to production, though it be increased a thou-
sand-fold.
It is competition, then, and nothing but competition,
which limits the annual income of the country. And as
competition necessarily arises from the division, and oppo-
sition or conflict of the interests of men, in the distribution
of the produce of labour, it is certain that nothing less than
an entire change in the commercial arrangements of society,
can be productive of any essential benefit to mankind.
Gray.
As men are instinctively led to unite in societies, we may
rest assured, that, if their associations were maintained on
the true principles of their nature, the further any society
advanced in knowledge, and in the invention and exercise
of mechanical productive powers, their increase of happi-
COMPETITIVE SYSTEM. 21
ness would be in proportion to the progress of intellect,
and to the increase in their means of production and of
comfort. In fact, their sense of the great advantages
which may be derived from the combination of their powers
not to a portion of their members only, but to the whole
community, would become continually stronger and stronger,
until, so far from the social principle becoming continu-
ally weaker and weaker, SELF-LOVE would ultimately be
lost in UNIVERSAL BENEVOLENCE.
If this assumption be correct and, that it is so will
appear to any mind of ordinary capacity, then have we
obtained a secure footing on which to proceed in the course
of our inquiries ; then have we arrived at the knowledge
of the only solid foundation on which human society can
permanently be constructed ; then does it follow that there
is some grand fundamental error, which has fatally found
its way into every society the world has hitherto contained,
and which alone, and at once, accounts for all those coun-
teractions that have rendered the operation of the social
instinct, as respects the bulk of mankind, abortive.
Soon after any community began to emerge from the
most simple state of society, the consequences of the error
began to manifest themselves. A class of its members,
which has been denominated the lower orders a class
necessarily doomed to comparative and positive misery
and ignorance, was imperceptibly generated within it.
In proportion as nations have become great and power-
ful, and have made advances in wealth and acquirements,
the mass of misery corrupting and rankling at their base,
has also continued progressively to be enlarged, until it
may be truly said, that the foundations of society are laid
in wretchedness, and that there is no addition made to the
superstructure of luxury and of wealth, without a more
than corresponding enlargement of the sphere of misery
below.
The surplus wealth, created by useful inventions, and
the skilful combinations of labour, has never been equitably
distributed. The invention of machinery, to assist or super-
sede human labour, has never been the means of abating one
hour's labour to the labourer. The discovert/ of productive
powers which are capable of producing more wealth than
the world can consume, has not afforded one ounce of addi-
tional plenty to the poor. The very increase of knowledge,
22 THE INDIVIDUAL, OR
and of intellectual elevation, among some classes, has been
accompanied by corresponding degradation and debase-
ment to others. Even the progress of virtue has been
accompanied by an increase of vice ; and this country itself
presents the appalling spectacle of the rapidly increasing
demoralization and misery of one portion of its people, at
the very moment that active beneficence, and the principles
of universal philanthropy, are more than ever conspicuous
amongst another.
It is quite impossible that the state of society, as all
societies have hitherto been constituted, should be other-
wise. The interest of each individual having been opposed,
in almost every situation, and under almost all circum-
stances, to the interest of other individuals, and to the
interests of society, innumerable counteractions, and the
positive negation of the principal advantages, and of much
of the most valuable power, of society, is the inevitable
and natural result.
The degree and kind of exertion which are to be given
to the productive powers of a nation, are never regulated
by the real interests of the whole nation, but by the sup-
posed interests of individuals. The landholders regulate
the quantity of their produce, not by the wants of the people,
but by the amount of pecuniary advantage which can be
derived to themselves. While there are hundreds of thou-
sands of unemployed labourers, and myriads of uncultivated
acres, the land is suffered to lie waste, and the pauper
labourers continue to be but half fed, because the plough
must not touch the forbidden soil until its cultivation shall
be deemed advantageous, not only to society, but to its
possessors not only to a famishing multitude, but to indi-
viduals already in possession of a superabundance.
The most eminent agriculturists have repeatedly de-
clared, that the produce from the soil of this country can
only be made to equal the consumption, by legislative
enactments which shall elevate the price of the produce to
such a standard as shall be advantageous to the producer,
and must be highly injurious to the consumer. In other
words, that though the interests of the whole people obvi-
ously require that the supply of food should be as abundant
and as cheap as possible, the supposed interests of a portion
of the people demand that the supply shall be limited, and
the price high.
COMPETITIVE SYSTEM. 23
It must not be inferred from this, that the landholders
act otherwise than the existing nature of things compel
them. The form which society has assumed renders it
indispensable that each individual should disregard the
interests of the whole, when his own immediate interests
are concerned ; and from this imperative necessity no one
can escape. If mechanics, manufacturers, &c., were to
create all the goods which the real wants and necessities
of society require, the money-price of the commodities
would sink below the level, which, as society is now con-
stituted, is advantageous to the manufacturer. A million
of men may be destitute of comfortable woollen apparel ;
and a single great manufacturer may possess the requisite
machinery and other powers for producing the necessary
articles with facility; but the quantity of his product is
determined, not by the necessities of the people, but by the
money-price which his commodities can command in the
market.
Though society requires the produce, it has lost the
control over the power of production. Though there are
hundreds of thousands of wretched human beings, capable,
not only of performing all the processes which are neces-
sary for the abundant supply of their own wants, but of
producing a large amount of surplus wealth for the benefit
of society at large, they are not permitted to rescue them-
selves from misery and to relieve others, because it is not
self-evident to a certain number of individuals (individually
considered), that this happy change in the condition of
the many could not be injurious to the few.
From amongst the multitudes who are at present desti-
tute of productive employment, we shall suppose that five
hundred or a thousand are selected. They shall consist of
husbandmen and common labourers, and of workmen who
have been instructed in the practice of the useful arts,
such as linen, cotton, and woollen weavers, tanners,
tailors, shoemakers, hatters, joiners, bricklayers, &c. Some
of them shall be qualified to teach the ordinary branches
of useful knowledge, and to contribute in other respects to
the instruction and amusement of the rest, and of the
families of the whole. These men, it is evident, need the
assistance of each other ; but the existing arrangements of
society are such, that they not only cannot help themselves,
they are compelled to drag on a wretched existence,
24 THE SOCIAL, OR
prolonged by the scanty pittance which is wrung from
public or private charity ; and thus to prey on the industry
of those whom the errors of society have not yet reduced
to their wretched condition. The Economist.
In every department of society, there is not the least
appearance of a general and enlightened government acting
for the benefit of the people. Instead of this invaluable
superintending power, if it were rightly directed, we, almost
everywhere, perceive the active workings of an ignorant
self-interest, opposed, in almost every instance, to the
general good of the people, and to the highest and most
permanent interest of the nation. I am aware it is a
favourite doctrine with those few individuals who best
thrive under a system of government which allows them,
by their position with regard to capital, and political,
literary, and commercial knowledge, to obtain the choice
situations in the existing order of things, to advocate the
advantage of an inactive government, that will permit,
with the least restraint, every one to take his own course,
and to do the best individually for himself. This doctrine,
however, is true only when compared to the active pro-
ceedings of an ignorant despotic government, whose prac-
tical measures are inferior in wisdom to the random pro-
ceedings of individuals, guided in their conduct by a desire
to promote their own immediate benefit, without reference
to the general well-being of the community to which they
belong. It is not true, when applied to a government
acting upon the united experience of a nation, with all its
measures devised to effect, through wise arrangements in
each department of the Science of Society, the most bene-
ficial results for the whole community. Owen.
SECTION III.
THE SOCIAL, OR CO-OPERATIVE SYSTEM.
OF all the relations of life there is none more endearing
than that of a brother. In sickness and health, in joy
and sorrow, in prosperity and adversity, this relationship
is a balm for every wound. A family is the place where
we are to look for the purest and happiest feelings which
CO-OPERATIVE SYSTEM. 25
man is permitted to enjoy upon earth. A family is a com-
munity as far as it goes. All are fed from the same stock.
All sit at the same table, and drink of the same cup. All
have a common lot, either of prosperity or adversity. All
hold the same rank in society. If one should happen to
be more fortunate than the rest in the world, and rise to
wealth or honour, he imparts a portion of his prosperity to
the others. He soothes the old age of his parents, or he
makes them happy by his public honours, and by his kind
and filial attentions to their wishes. He lends his hand
to those who are of his own age, and helps them on their
journey ; or he superintends^ directs, and patronizes those
who are younger than himself, in their studies, their pur-
suits, and professions. Thus, by a feeling of grateful and
laudable ambition, he becomes the father of his household ;
and every one, at his approach, " rises up and calls him
blessed."
This family affection ought to extend itself from private
to public life ; from the family to the world. It ought to
be the model upon which every one should endeavour to
form his own character. The reward of such a character
is sweet in the extreme. It exists in the sympathy of
every bosom ; it makes a family of the world ; it sees a
brother in every human being, and rejoices in every oppor-
tunity of doing him good. Man was evidently intended
to be brought to this lovely state by nature and by provi-
dence and in our apprehension these terms are synony-
mous. Man was never intended to live by the misery or
the ruin of his neighbour but by his prosperity and
happiness. That portion of evil which unavoidably befalls
some people in the present state of the world, was intended
to be mitigated, if not obviated, by the general prosperity
and happiness. As one individual bears but a trifling
proportion to the whole race, so the misfortunes or unhap-
piness of one may be abundantly compensated by the
overwhelming prosperity of the great mass of mankind.
" There is a friend," says the wise man, " that sticketh
faster than a brother!" However strong the affection and
interest of a family may be, man is so formed as to con-
tract indissoluble attachments to some one or more of his
fellow-creatures. Two minds may have the same pursuits
and studies the same views and objects they may delight
in the same species of knowledge and may join together
26 THE SOCIAL, OR
in the same career of improvement and science. The
common object may be sufficient to bind them together in
friendship, and they may follow the common pursuit with
double ardour and double relish.
But the sweetest of all bonds is that which is formed
not merely by a common science, but by a congenial dis-
position and heart. It is from the heart that every valu-
able feeling springs, and every source of pleasure and
happiness. No kind of pursuit, or knowledge, becomes a
source of happiness to a man, till it takes fast hold of the
heart and affections. When we love a science, then we
appreciate its value and its beauties. They grow and
expand every day, and the more we examine them, the
more inexhaustible do we find them. We see that the
objects of our love are infinite our hearts dilate with a
feeling of the same infinity we ourselves experience a
kind of grow th within us our very nature seems to change,
to enlarge, to purify, to be exalted and we are led con-
tinually to wonder at the vast and improving character of
the powers and faculties we possess.
This feeling of friendship is so peculiar and delightful,
that it has been the subject of some of the most beautiful
compositions which have ever been written. This how-
ever is not of so much importance in our view, as the fact
that friendship of some kind, and in some degree, is abso-
lutely necessary to every man's comfort in the common
intercourse of life. No man would wish to say, arid no
man can say, that he has not a friend in the world. It is
considered a most forlorn estate for a man not to know to
whom to turn for an act of kindness : and when we meet
with so extreme a case, we instantly forget all the common
forms of society, and of rank, and by an instinctive impulse
we become that friend ourselves, as if to prevent the world
from being loaded with the disgrace of bearing on its face
a friendless man. It is oppressive to contemplate the pic-
ture of man, in this state, approaching to friendless desti-
tution. The heart mourns over it, and seeks relief in
imagining the possibility of a state of things in which we
may extend the delightful feeling of friendship from one to
many in which we may open our bosom and receive into
our arms all who wear the fair form and features of man.
Such is the state which Co-operation holds out, and Co-
operation alone. Co-operation removes the almost insur-
CO-OPERATIVE SYSTEM. 27
raountable obstacles to friendship; namely, self-interest,
rivalry, jealousy, and envy. When two persons have an
inclination to cultivate a friendship for each other, they
seldom proceed far without finding their interests clash.
The delicate feeling of mutual esteem, which at first is
small and weak, and requires time for its growth, and a
variety of kind offices for its strength, receives a check in
its very outset. Mutual suspicions and jealousies arise,
and the tender plant is nipped in the bud. Men must
have different pursuits, and be wholly independent of each
other, in order to stand any chance of a real and sincere
friendship.
But if persons w r ere so situated that their interests were
in all respects the same; if the prosperity of the one
insured the prosperity of the other, and the happiness of
the one, the happiness of the other ; then, instead of sus-
picion and jealousy, they could only feel towards each
other love, esteem, and affection. If one were cleverer
than another, or more indefatigable if he had more genius,
knowledge, or energy than another or were more zealous,
industrious, and persevering than another, while that other
reaped an equal share of all this superiority surely that
other could not but entertain for his kind friend a high
degree of respect, esteem, and admiration, in proportion to
his superior merits. The weak is now beaten down by
the strong ; the ignorant man by the man of genius : but
were they to find in the strength and wisdom of others
their own protection and safeguard, they would feel no
longer unhappy and discontented in their own moderate
powers, while they would look, with pleasure and approba-
tion, on the greater powers of their neighbour.
Such is the state of things which Co -operation holds
out. Every man, on entering such a Society, immediately
becomes surrounded by a host of friends. All the abilities
and labour of all those friends are pledged to him, to pro-
tect him against the common evils of life, and to ensure to
him its comforts and enjoyments. While he presents the
Society with the labour, skill, and knowledge of one single
individual, the Society presents him with those of many.
He gives little ; he receives much. In himself, he is sub-
ject to all the uncertainties, the ups and downs of life, to
anxiety and care, to laborious days, and sleepless nights :
but in the Society, he has insured himself against all these
28 THE SOCIAL, OR
things : he cannot be ruined unless the Society be so too :
and the ruin of a Society of labourers is an impossibility;
because, as every labourer produces about four times as
much as he consumes, a society of one hundred labourers
must produce four hundred times more than they consume
which is amply sufficient to provide against all the
chances and accidents of life.
Suppose a workman, a member of such a Society, to
form a friendship for another member, how delightful
would it be for them to live under the same roof, to work
at the same employment, to eat at the same table, to spend
the hours of rest and recreation in mutual conversation or
improvement ! They would never be separated by change
of masters, want of work, or sickness, or old age. One
would never look down upon the other because he was
rising more in the world, nor feel contempt for him as
belonging to a different trade. They would continually
be striving to oblige each other, by little acts of kindness
and attention. They would lighten each other's labour as
opportunity offered, and they would unite in this labour
with the greatest cordiality arid zeal, in order to insure a
common independence.
Another pleasing occupation of such friendship would
be, to assist in explaining and enforcing the great prin-
ciples of the Society; to instruct the ignorant; to en-
courage the timid ; to help the weak ; to be patterns to
the other members ; to be foremost in exertion, in zeal, in
activity; to be always ready to meet difficulties, and to
bear the heat and burden of the day. Such objects would
be worthy of the warmest friendship, and the highest
energies ; and would be a fit employment for those exalted
faculties which God has given to man.
We do not mean to assert that each member of a society
or community would possess that high degree of feeling,
which is called friendship, towards every other member.
We only argue on the general truth, that friendship, in
some degree, is common and necessary to all men that
the circumstances of ordinary life are very unfavourable to
it and that those of a Co-operative community are essen-
tially favourable : arid when such friendship does exist,
between two or more members, their circumstances will
enable them to reap from it the highest possible enjoy-
ment. But this friendly feeling, among the members
CO-OPERATIVE SYSTEM. 29
generally, must not be left to chance and accident. It
must not only be recommended as an advantage ; it must
be enforced as an imperative and paramount duty and
obligation. When a man enters a Co-operative Society,
he enters upon a new relation with his fellow-men ; and
that relation immediately becomes the subject of every
sanction, both moral and religious. Mutual regard, friend-
ship, and affection, become then as binding upon a mem-
ber as the duties of common honesty and sobriety. Reli-
gion will step in here, as into other relations, and will hold
forth her promises of future reward and punishment, in
proportion as men are good or bad members of the com-
munity to which they belong. Zeal, energy, and fidelity,
will draw after them the glorious rewards of a future life :
whilst indolence, indifference, and unfaithfulness, will natur-
ally anticipate the gloomy sentence of disapprobation and
punishment. Though the profession of a common creed
will not be one of the objects of a community, yet, every
member will be glad to unite in that view of religion which
will give additional force and sanction to all their regula-
tions for the common good.
However, we cannot withhold our opinion, that the
delightful feelings of friendship will pervade the whole
Society to a considerable extent. The common yearnings
of our nature, and the common ties of the Society, will
necessarily open the hearts of the members. No man
will be admitted whose general character is not approved
of so that no obstacle will exist to thwart his inclination
to contract friendships among the members. While no-
thing opposes them, many things will favour them ; and
when many rivers run in one direction, without opposing
currents, they must at last unite in one common ocean.
The common capital is the great bond of union. Each
member is nothing in his individual capacity but every
thing in his social capacity. If he separates himself from
the Society and the common capital, he is ruined. While
he is united with them his fortune is made. The import-
ance of each member, and the value of his labour, as a
single individual, are nothing ; so small is the proportion
they bear to the whole Society, and the common capital.
The older the Society grows, and the larger the capital,
the more insignificant is each membei as an individual.
These, and similar reflections, must make him look to the
30 THE SOCIAL, OR
Society and its common capital, so as to entertain for
them the utmost regard and love.
But if a number of persons are continually admiring and
loving the same object if that object possess many beauties
and excellencies if it be the great and unfailing source of
their happiness, they must, necessarily, by continually lov-
ing the same interesting object, draw towards each other
in the bonds of love. It would be the height of absurdity
to suppose that mankind should be prone, even to a fault,
to a common sympathy, under the present course of things
and dead to this sympathy, when united in a common
Society, with a common capital. It is much more reason-
able to suppose, and to prophesy, that this sympathy would
act in Co-operation with new energies, and rise occasion-
ally, even to enthusiasm. If men are now to be found,
so full of public spirit as to sacrifice their ease and peace,
their prosperity and happiness, and even life itself, for the
public good, when the reward is but an empty name, or a
monument, when they are no longer sensible to the honour,
or perhaps the mistaken execration of an ungrateful world,
what efforts will they not be capable of, when, to the cer-
tainty of posthumous fame, is added the present prosperity
and happiness of all around them !
Yes ! enough has now been done to justify us in antici-
pating the happiest results : and we are convinced that our
motto, " Sirs, ye are brethren," will be the talisman which
every Co-operator will wear next his heart. It will be
the rosary on which every member will tell his morning
and evening aspirations, to the great Fountain of all love
to impart the principles more and more widely and deeply
to his own breast, and to those of his friends and brethren.
The spirit of Co-operation is the spirit of friendship and
brotherly love, which, though small at first, in the infancy
of the Society, will gather strength and stature as it goes
will at length lift its head sublimely to the skies, and
enfold, in its parental and everlasting embrace , all the chil-
dren of the happy community. Anon.
The changes proposed consist of new arrangements
derived from science.
1 . To erecty heat, and ventilate Lodging Apartments for
the working classes, belter and cheaper than can be effected
by any of the plans now in practice.
2. To feed them better and cheaper.
CO-OPERATIVE SYSTEM. 31
3. To clothe them better and cheaper.
4. To train and educate them better and cheaper.
5. To secure to them BETTER HEALTH than they now
enjoy.
6. To apply their labour to Agriculture, Manufactures,
and all the purposes of society, with science better directed
than heretofore.
And lastly, To make them in all respects better members
of society.
Every one must acknowledge that these will be import-
ant improvements, if they can be obtained.
It is now to be shown that they are easily attainable,
and that all the means necessary to give them permanence
now superabound.
The most difficult problem to solve was, " to ascertain
what number of persons could be associated together so as
to give to each the most advantage with the least incon-
venience."
The second, "to discover on what principle this new
association could be formed, in order to avoid the evils
which have hitherto kept society in a state of poverty,
degradation, imbecility, and misery."
The third, " to find out, how all their wants could be
permanently and amply supplied without a collision of
individual interests, and at the same time to secure a pro-
gressive improvement in all knowledge, so as to give a
continued zest and enjoyment to human existence."
The arrangements best adapted for the improvement
and happiness of the working classes, and which must at
the same time render their labour superior to, and cheaper
than, that of all other labourers, are as follows :
From about 500 to 1500 individuals, or (supposing four
to a family) about 300 families, are to reside in habitations
in the country, on which much foresight and science have
been exercised in devising their erection and combination,
and in which an attempt has been made to unite, in these
buildings, every domestic advantage and comfort of which
the dwellings of the working classes are now susceptible.
They comprise spacious sitting and bed-rooms, exten-
sive public kitchen and eating-rooms, schools for different
ages, church, places of worship for Dissenters, infirmary,
library, lecture-room, and inn for the accommodation of
the friends and visitors of the inhabitants.
32 THE SOCIAL, OR
These buildings are to enclose an extensive play-ground
for the younger children ; space for gymnastic exercises
for the elder children, and of recreation for adults.
They are to be surrounded by gardens, which are to be
chiefly cultivated by the females and elder children, and to
be placed in the midst of about 600 acres of land ; the arable
part of which will be principally cultivated by the spade.
The buildings have been accurately designed, working
drawings for the builders are prepared, and every expense
attending their erection has been estimated with great
care, at the present cost of materials and labour in the city
of Glasgow ; being the nearest extensive market for these
articles to the proposed establishment; and 10 percent,
on the whole has been added for contingencies.
The cost of these erections has been found
to be about 34,260
To which add,
For furnishing the apartments, &c., of 300
families 3,600
Fitting-up school-rooms and places of wor-
ship for Dissenters 300
Ditto church 400
Ditto infirmary 200
Ditto lecture-room 240
Ditto inn 500
Ditto library . . 500
Making the entire cost about 40,000
Forty thousand pounds at seven and a half per cent,
interest, per annum, is 3,000.
The buildings, as before remarked, will accommodate in
a more commodious and comfortable manner, than any
now in use, a population of 1,200 persons, or (supposing
four to each family) 300 families. By dividing the above-
mentioned interest, 3,000, by 300, the number of families,
will give 10 per annum, to be paid by each family of
four persons, for the rent of the private furnished apart-
ments, public buildings, and other superior domestic ac-
commodation ; and, by an accurate calculation made on
the expenditure of the working class at New Lanark,
whose population is well known to be sufficiently supplied,
it is found that the average expenditure of each family
CO-OPERATIVE SYSTEM. 33
does not exceed forty-five pounds per annum,* including
rent and all expenses. However, to prevent the possibility
of overstating the argument, each family, in the new estab-
lishment, is here supposed to cost forty-seven pounds per
annum, including- all expenses. This, for 300 families,
will amount to 14,000 per annum. Now, in a working
population of 1,200 individuals, there appears from the
most accurate data that can be obtained, an average of
248 individuals, male and female, under 10 yrs. First Class.
178 Ditto, Ditto, from 10 to 15. Second do.
719 Ditto, Ditto, from 15 to 60. Third do.
55 Ditto, Ditto, 60 & upwards. Fourth do.
The labour of the children in the First Class is not taken
to account, although the occasional employment of those
from seven to ten in weeding the gardens, and other light
occupations, will be of value to the establishment. The
labour of both sexes of the Second Class, consisting of
Per Ann.
165 individuals, at 4*. per week, is 1,716
680 Ditto, of Third Class, at 10s. per week 17,680
40 Ditto, of Fourth Class, at 5s. per week 520
19,916
Total expenditure taken at a high rate, > i j i nn n A
including rent and interest 5 14 ' 1U
Surplus 5,816
In this calculation, the labour of eight of the Second Class,
nineteen of the Third Class, and five of the Fourth Class,
are not taken to account, as they would be employed in
various domestic purposes and superintendence ; and also
the labour of five of the Second Class, twenty of the Third
Class, and ten of the Fourth Class, are supposed to be at
* The expenditure of the new establishment will, in fact, be
greatly diminished, even compared with that of New Lanark,
as the former is to be supplied with all the necessaries of life by
the labour of its own inhabitants ; and by this means the various
profits which are absorbed by the dealers in these articles will
be savBd to the establishment, as well as a considerable sum in
every part of the domestic arrangement.
III. D
34 THE SOCIAL, OR
all times ineffective, either from indisposition or other
causes.*
Thus, in return for their services, estimated at the com-
mon prices of manual labour, will these working- classes
obtain more substantial comforts than can be now procured
by many of the middle classes at an expenditure of several
hundreds per annum.
The surplus of 5,816, after it shall have repaid the
capital expended in forming the establishment, will be an
excess of wealth perpetually accumulating to form new
establishments as the population increases.
Thus will terminate the present commercial system of
profit upon price ; since by these simple, yet truly scientific
arrangements, this profit will be rendered riot only unne-
cessary arid disadvantageous to all parties, but utterly im-
practicable.
From the preceding calculations, it is evident that the
inhabitants of these establishments will be in full possession,
even at the commencement of their exertions, of far more
substantial advantages than are now acquired by the fa-
voured few, after a life of great exertion, and what is
called success.
It is evident that the members of these communities
will be able, with facility, to create a considerable surplus
beyond their own consumption ; this surplus produce they
will exchange for the surplus produce of other similar
Communities, by estimating the value of such surplus pro-
duce in labour, and not in money, as at present.
By this arrangement they will receive all their external
supply, and thereby render money, and all money transac-
tions, wholly unnecessary ; their labour by these arrange-
ments will require no other representative than notes or
vouchers, to be given when the articles are delivered at
the appointed depot; these notes or vouchers will desig-
nate the exact amount of labour contained in such articles,
which amount will be estimated upon equitable principles,
ascertained and fixed by the Communities.-|- Thus all
bargaining, and its degrading effects on the human charac-
ter, will be obviated.
* These calculations are derived from a census of the whole
population of Lanark.
t Their transactions with present society will, of course, be
carried ou by means of the usual circulating' medium.
CO-OPERATIVE SYSTEM. 33
But even this stage of society will be but temporary ;
for, by the most simple arrangements, which will be bene-
ficial to all, supply may be made so far to exceed any
possible demand, that it will be discovered, in a compara-
tively short time, that all may use whatever they desire,
without the necessity existing for the intervention of any
immediate or direct equivalent.
The advantages of these new arrangements to the phy-
sical, moral, and intellectual character of the lower orders
are so great, that when they can be once fairly compre-
hended by the public, they will plainly show the extrava-
gance, loss, and gross absurdity of the present occupation
and expenditure of the working classes.
The general advantages of these new arrangements are,
(to state them in few words) that they clearly discover to
us the only true solution of that hitherto most difficult
problem in political economy, viz. The true distribution
of that immense amount of production which manufactures
and agriculture, aided by machinery and other scientific
improvements, can now create.
Under these arrangements, an abundant harvest, and a
liberal supply of all useful and agreeable commodities by
machinery, will not produce, (as under the existing sys-
tem,) distress and ruin, on the contrary, these arrange-
ments will eventually prevent the rising generation from
being subject to poverty, or the fear of poverty will pre-
serve them from ignorance from acquiring any bad habits
or dispositions from all cause of anger or malevolence
towards their fellow-creatures, or from being in any de-
uree intolerant to them, in consequence of any opinions,
habits, or dispositions, which they may have been taught.
The particular advantages are, that they and their chil-
dren, and their children's children, to the most remote
posterity, will, to the end of their lives, exist amidst a
superfluity of whatever can be necessary to their well-being
and happiness; until the whole surface of the habitable
parts of the earth shall be cultivated like a garden ; that
they will be made active and intelligent, be trained to
possess the most charitable, kind, and benevolent senti-
ments and dispositions ; and that, through their example,
all classes, sects, and parties, will be induced to adopt
whatever experience shall prove to be beneficial, wise, and
good in those establishments.
D 2
36 THE SOCIAL, OR
It has been frequently asserted by theoretical political
economists and others, that this system has a tendency to
degrade and enslave the human race, and place it under
unnatural restraints. No conclusion, however, can be
more unfounded and fallacious, and it must proceed en-
tirely from an ignorance of human nature and society. On
the contrary, every part of this system has been purposely
and carefully devised, after a calm and attentive considera-
tion of ancient and modern history, and existing facts, with
a view to impart to man the utmost freedom and inde-
pendence of which he is susceptible, under a social system
of order and happiness.
And it can never be too much impressed on the public-
mind, that the only solid foundation of public liberty is to
be found in the full supply of the wants in the virtuous
habits in the intelligence, and consequent happiness of
the whole population. Robert Owen.
Let us suppose that a community, consisting of about
1,200 persons, of both sexes and all ages, that is to say,
made up of the average proportions of children, adults,
aged and infirm members, were about to form a colony on
one of the unoccupied spots of this kingdom, and that it was
their determination, as 1'ar as possible, to possess every
requisite within themselves. Their first object would,
doubtless, be to secure to themselves such an extent of
land as should be capable of yielding a quantity of alimen-
tary produce, more than sufficient for their subsistence ;
their next object would be to erect commodious dwellings,
arid to supply themselves with the other necessaries, con-
veniences, and comforts, to which they had been more or
less accustomed in the society whence they emigrated.
Supposing them possessed of a knowledge of the principles
upon which Mr. Owen's plan is founded, and cordially
agreed to act upon those principles, they would be aware
that a regard to their own true interests required that they
should, as far as practicable, without trenching upon indi-
vidual liberty, carry on every operation conjointly, and
economise to the utmost both their materials and labour.
They would, according to the practice of the most expe-
rienced agriculturists, erect fheir dwellings as nearly as
possible in the centre of their estate ; and in the construc-
tion of them, a regard to economy would require that one
contrivance should answer numerous? purposes. Hence
CO-OPERATIVE SYSTEM. 87
they would see the advantage of making one convenient
kitchen, and a sufficient number of other public rooms, in
the place of multiplying small rooms, and paltry utensils
for the separate use of each family. The females would
find, that, by dividing among themselves the domestic
duties of the community, those duties might be performed
in a tithe of the time, and with incalculably more skill and
effect than by their own individual and desultory efforts,
if, for the exclusive benefit of her own family, each was
burthened with all the petty details of housewifery, amidst
the distraction arising from the care of young children.
The children of such a community would be sufficiently
numerous to admit of the introduction of the best system of
education. For the purposes of manufacturing the several
articles of clothing and of furniture, machinery would be
resorted to ; and as each member would have a common
interest, on equitable principles, in the whole produce of
the land and manufactures, it is obvious that the more ex-
tensively and efficiently mechanical inventions were intro-
duced and applied, the more would the wealth of each in-
dividual be increased. There could then arise no collision
of interests between the agriculturist and the manufacturer,
for those interests would be identified. Abundant har-
vests, and plenty of provisions, could not be regarded, as
with us, an evil: what constituted the joy of one could not
be a source of sorrow to another ; all would rejoice toge-
ther, and receive with gratitude the gifts of Providence.
Such is, indeed, a very slight sketch of that plan which
has been scouted as visionary and impracticable. The
grand desideratum of Society, is to carry the principles of
union and combination as far as practicable into effect. The
only limit that should be assigned to the operation of these
principles, is that point where they would invade the right
of privacy, and freedom of action. Under the proposed
arrangements, provision is made for the enjoyment of pri-
vacy, each family having separate sleeping and sitting
apartments, the size, number, and convenience of which
might be increased as the association advanced in wealth ;
and freedom of action is insured by the right of each mem-
ber to withdraw from the society when so disposed, and
by the inalienable right of all societies to expel those in-
dividuals who shall disturb their peace. Economist.
One essential feature of Mr. Owen's plan, and one of
38 THE SOCIAL, OR
its necessary adjuncts, is u community of goods, and an
equality of rank, amongst all the persons associated toge-
ther, as members of each of his proposed communities,
during the whole of the period that all the individuals re-
main so associated.
In so far, but no farther, Mr. Owen's system bears a
partial resemblance to other schemes, founded upon equa-
lity in rank and property, from all of which schemes,
nevertheless, it essentially differs in its real character and
properties.
For, though this strict equality prevails with respect to
all the associated members of each community, it by no
means extends to the public at large, nor even to all the
persons connected with each concern. It is, in fact, no-
thing more than the equality of partners, all of whom have
an equal interest in their joint concern, but whose relation
to the community at large remains unchanged.
Thus, though the basis upon which the affairs and pros-
perity of each society rest, is agriculture, yet, unless a
society be rich enough to purchase their own land, the
community of goods does not include the land, any more
than the equality in rank includes the land-owner. The
land-owner and the society stand in the ordinary relation
of landlord and tenant; and his rights, his property, his
rank in general society, remain as unchanged by the fact
of his letting a farm to a partnership, as by the fact of his
letting it to a single farmer, to a solitary tenant, with
this only difference, that a society, if required, will be en-
abled to pay a much higher rent than any single farmer
can do.
Thus, though the command of capital is indispensable
to the formation of each establishment, and to the carry-
ing on of its affairs, yet, unless each society possess capi-
tal enough of its own, at the period of its commencement,
the equality in property and rank neither embraces the
capital nor the capitalist, both of which preserve the ordi-
nary and legal relation which now subsists in all transac-
tions between lenders and borrowers.
Thus, though each society will deal extensively, in the
purchase of materials and various other commodities, and
in the sale of its own agricultural and manufacturing pro-
duce, yet the equality in wealth and rank, which prevails
in the society with respect to its own members, embraces
CO-OPERATIVE SYSTEM. 39
neither the persons of whom they purchase, nor the per-
sons to whom they sell. These various and numerous
parties, even when the transactions happen to be between
two or more of the societies themselves, retain all the
existing relations of buyers and sellers.
Thus, each society will remain in the same relation as
exists at present with respect to all individuals, with the
Government of the country, as to the payment of taxes,
the obligation to perform civil or military services, and
subjection to the laws of the state.
And thus, as in the ordinary relation of partners in com-
mon life, the equality in rank and property, even amongst
the associated members of each community, continues no
longer than the continuance of the partnership, or associa-
tion. Should the association break up, the partnership
be dissolved, the common property will be equally di-
vided among its common proprietors, each of whom will
afterwards take that rank in ordinary society to which his
connections, his talents and manners, or the amount of his
private wealth, may be found adequate to introduce him.
And, even on the determination of the partnership as
respects any one member, either by the expulsion or the
resignation of the individual, the general stock or property
of the society will not be found to be vested in the com-
munity, since that individual will either be at liberty to
sell his interest in the concern, or will have the full equi-
valent, after valuation, paid to him by the society, at the
moment of his quitting it.
The notion, then, that Mr. Owen's plan contemplates,
or necessarily resolves itself into, an universal equality in
property and in rank, is as preposterous as it would be to
connect that result with the organization of companies for
the building of bridges or the cutting of canals, or with
that of any other extensive partnerships.
A plan of societies under which landlords are to be paid
their rents, the lenders of capital to be paid the interest
of their money, the government to be paid its taxes,
the public at large to retain all its rights, and the mem-
bers of the societies themselves to resume their individual
rights, characters, and property, at their pleasure, appears
to me, I must confess, to differ entirely, and in every re-
spect, from all other schemes of equality of which I have
yet heard !
40 THE SOCIAL, OR
If a society shall be enabled, by the prosperous course
of its affairs, by the accumulation of wealth, eventually
to purchase the land for its agriculture, which it in the first
instance farmed, that effect will arise, not from the inevit-
able tendency of the plan to produce equality, but from the
ordinary power which belongs to the possessors of wealth
at present. In like manner, should a society be enabled
to repay the capital originally advanced to it, and thus to
discharge its debt, and relieve itself from the burthen of
paying annual interest, this prosperous result will not be
owing to the inevitable tendency of the plan to produce
equality, but to the ordinary tendency of industry, pru-
dence, economy, and successful enterprise, to lead to in-
dependence.
I think I have satisfactorily shewn, then, that Mr.
Owen's scheme is not a scheme necessarily connected
with, or necessarily productive of, universal equality either
in property or in rank ; in fact, that it possesses no other
tendency of this sort than belongs to all other partner-
ships, from the common nature of which it only differs
(if difference it can be called) in the greater simplicity
and efficiency of its design, whether as respects the unity
of its action, or the equitable distribution of its advantages.
Here, then, I am entitled to take my stand, and to con-
sider the objection as completely met, the apprehension as
entirely removed.
But, I am aware there are some persons who contend
that the advantages of the system will be so apparent, and
the happiness to be derived from acting upon it so great
and so obvious, that after the effects have been for some
time exhibited in practice, all men will be eager to asso-
ciate everywhere in communities upon the same princi-
ples; and that the power of producing wealth will thus
become so unlimited, as to render the possession of super-
fluous riches as little desirable then, as the possession of a
superfluous quantity of water is at present, and that by
this means, if not by any other, the plan will eventually re-
solve itself into an universal community of goods !
Very well ! I most devoutly wish that all men may
think thus of the plan ; and I will even venture to express
a hope that the plan may fully realize their expectations.
There are no persons, I think, who, if this be the acknow-
ledged tendency of the plan, will contend that that tend-
CO-OPERATIVE SYSTEM. 41
ency forms any just ground of objection to its introduc-
tion.
If this plan may one day result in equality, because it
will render men so wise, so wealthy, and so happy, that
distinctions in property or in rank will no longer be
deemed desirable ; so may the progress of Christianity
result in equality, when Christianity shall have rendered
all men so humble, so benevolent, and so virtuous, that they
shall esteem all earthly distinctions as unreal vanities, if
not as sinful presumptions ; and so may the principles,
precepts, and practice, of any moral philosopher or phi-
lanthropist, or of all philosophers and philanthropists
united, result in equality, when the force of their principles,
of their precepts, and of their example, shall be univer-
sally diffused, and universally felt and acknowledged ! An
universal equality, produced by means such as these, is in-
deed a consummation most devoutly to be wished, and
most joyfully and gratefully to be received.
On the supposition, then, that in this way Mr. Owen's
system may result in equality, let us see in what respects
it still differs from all other schemes of equality, schemes
against which the mind naturally entertains strong preju-
dices, and with which it has been forced by past events to
connect little else than unfavourable associations. It is
necessary, therefore, that we who unite with Mr. Owen,
should show that our scheme neither partakes of their cha-
racter, nor is in any degree of their kindred.
If our scheme should produce equality, that will be its
result, not its original character, nor its ruling principle or
power.
All schemes of equality, on the other hand, have pro-
posed to commence with the abolition of distinctions and
the equal division of property. They have proposed to
begin thus, in order, according to the view of their pro-
jectors, that good, and the happiness of mankind, might
ensue.
Our scheme proposes to begin with the acquisition of
good, with the attainment of happiness, with trie cultiva-
tion of the moral and intellectual powers from earliest
childhood, and continued to the latest period of existence,
and with the abolition of no distinctions, but such as all
men must desire to see removed, the wretched distinctions
afforded by gradations in vice, poverty, and misery !
42 THE SOCIAL, OR
The projectors of schemes of equality have wished to
begin with the equality, in the anticipation of a result,
(happiness,) the occurrence of which all men are entitled
to dispute and to deny which is exceedingly doubtful in
itself, and is an end, which the proposed means seem far
from being adequate to accomplish.
Our scheme begins with the end which the others only
propose eventually to accomplish; and our scheme is ut-
terly regardless 01 further results, let those results be what
they may, in the firm assurance, that to whatever state
men shall be led by the guidance of reason and of virtue,
that state must be the most favourable to their felicity.
Economist.
Even as respects each society, the object sought to be
obtained is not equality in rank or possessions, is not
community of goods, but full, complete, unrestrained co-
opei-ation, on the part of all the members, for every purpose
of social life, whether as regards the means of subsistence,
or of promoting the intellectual and moral improvement
and happiness of the whole body.
This is the true and only secret of the system, the na-
tural course of action, under which alone social beings
(possessing powers of combination derived from natural
instincts, and improved by scientific principles) can derive
all the advantages which are within their reach, and by
which alone they can be bound together in society, with-
out the agency of force and sanguinary laws, which have
always, hitherto, been found necessary to hold them toge-
ther. Even Christianity, because its professors have
omitted to obey the injunctions of the Author of their
Faith, on this point, because they have excluded from
their societies the true and natural principle on which alone
society can be permanently and securely founded, even
Christianity has hitherto, on this account, failed to unite
men in the bonds of love and fellowship; and it is found
as necessary to employ force in Christian countries, for
the preservation of the existing system, as in those parts
of the world to which Christianity has not yet been com-
municated !
This is one amongst the numberless facts, which ought
at once to satisfy all, unprejudiced, not only of the great
imperfection of the present system of society ; but of the
fact, that the fundamental error of society is the opposition
CO-OPERATIVE SYSTEM. 43
of interests, the artificial obstacles thus created to pre-
vent cordial co-operation, and the ruinous checks thus
entailed upon the production and distribution of wealth, as
well as upon the spread of true principles.
Even a religion, enjoining all men to be of " one heart
arid of one soul," teaching a pure morality, and offering
the most consolatory doctrines and brilliant hopes and ex-
pectations to mankind, has for upwards of eighteen cen-
turies exerted its influence in vain, because its influence
has necessarily been counteracted by the nature of society,
fruitful only in counteractions ; and it might continue to
exert its influence for as many centuries more, with the
same success, if the form of society remained unchanged.
Indeed, the earthly triumph of Christianity would be the
establishment of the new system of society. Its success-
ful progress would result in such an extension of the bene-
volent principle, as to induce every individual to merge
his individual interest and happiness in the general good,
and in the promotion of the general welfare. Either, then,
we must wait for the earthly felicity promised by Chris-
tianity, until Christianity itself shall have slowly and im-
perceptibly removed the obstacle which opposes its full and
complete action; or, aided by science and benevolent
feelings, and under the guidance of Christian principles,
we must, in so far as is at present possible, remove the ob-
stacle, now that it has at length been discovered, induce
men, by interesting even their selfishness, to enter into that
state of society which is most favourable to virtue and to
happiness, and which presents the greatest facilities for
the universal diffusion of knowledge, and for the early for-
mation of good habits and amiable character, and thus
facilitate the arrival of that felicitous state which Chris-
tianity has foretold, and which it has promised to establish.
It is remarkable, that all that is proposed to be effected
by Mr. Owen's system, and all, probably, that it is capable
of effecting, is to prepare mankind for the blissful change
which is expected to take place in their condition.
When that period shall at length arrive, then indeed all
men will be of one heart and of one soul, will have but
one interest, and will enjoy a perfect equality in rank and
an unlimited community of goods.
The new system proposes to unite, in each community,
only two or three hundred families, by the bond of their
44 THE SOCIAL SYSTEM.
mutual interests, and their sense of the great advantages
which may be derived by each from the cordial co-opera-
tion of all.
We know not yet of any motive sufficiently strong, of
any bond, by which all mankind, or even a few thousands
of families, could be induced to enter into a state of unity
and of common property and pursuits.
That is a consummation reserved for a higher period in
the progress of the world, for the development of powers
with which we are still unacquainted, or for the operation
of Divine Grace, crowning with universal harmony the
whole design and accomplishment of creation.
In the new societies, on the contrary, there will not be a
real community of goods, even as respects the associated
members of each village.
At first view, there appears to be the establishment of a
community of goods; and I believe I have myself fre-
quently applied the term to the arrangements. This, how-
ever, has arisen from inattention, and from not having ex-
amined the point with that care and precision which are
necessary for coming to accurate conclusions.
The individuals forming an association may possess va-
rious portions of wealth at the moment when the associa-
tion is formed. One member is worth nothing, another
has a hundred, a third a thousand pounds, and so on. If
there were a community of goods, the separate wealth of
the individual members would be merged in the general
fund, in the common stock of the society. It has never,
however, been contemplated that such an arrangement
should take effect. On the contrary, each member may
lodge his personal property where he thinks proper. He
may employ it as he thinks proper, and spend it as he
thinks proper.
Again, if there were a community of goods, the joint
property would be vested in the community. A member
could neither sell his interest nor dispose of it by will, nor
demand an equivalent for it, if he were expelled from the
society, or if he thought fit voluntarily to retire from it.
Each member, however, will have a right to exercise all
these acts of absolute property over that proportion of the
partnership stock which belongs to him.
A community of goods, therefore, is neither the distin-
guishing feature of the system, nor the direct object which
THE ORIGIN AND OBJECTS OF GOVERNMENT. 45
it is intended to accomplish. On the contrary, it dis-
tinctly recognises, and carefully preserves, the right of pri-
vate property, and of individual accumulation and posses-
sion.
Its distinguishing feature is unity of physical and intel-
lectual power, its instrument, or agency, unrestrained co-
operation, its objects, the unlimited and uncontrolled pro-
duction and distribution of wealth ; in which term I in-
clude every thing that is desirable to man, or that is ne-
cessary to his true well-being and happiness. Economist.
CHAPTER III.
OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
SECTION I.
THE ORIGIN AND OBJECTS OF GOVERNMENT.
GOVERNMENT, like dress, is the badge of lost inno-
cence ; the palaces of kings are built on the ruins of the
bovvers of Paradise. For, were the impulses of conscience
clear, uniform, and irresistibly obeyed, man would need no
other lawgiver ; but that not being the case, he finds it
necessary to surrender up a part of his property to fur-
nish means for the protection of the rest ; and this he is
induced to do by the same prudence which, in every other
case, advises him out of two evils to choose the least.
Paine.
It has been thought a considerable advance towards
establishing the principles of freedom, to say that govern-
ment is a compact between those who govern and those
who are governed: but this cannot be true, because it is
putting the effect before the cause ; for as man must have
existed before governments existed, there necessarily was
u time when governments did not exist, and consequently
there could originally exist no governors to form such a
compact with. The fact therefore must be, that the indi-
viduals themselves, each in his own personal and sovereign
46 THE ORIGIN AND
right, entered into a compact with each other to produce a
government : and this is the only mode in which govern-
ments have a right to arise, and the only principle on
which they have a right to exist. To possess ourselves of
a clear idea of what government is, or ought to be, we
must trace it to its origin. In doing this, we shall easily
discover that governments must have arisen, either out of
the people, or over the people A constitution is not a
thing in name only, but in fact. It has not an ideal, but
a real existence ; and wherever it cannot be produced in a
visible form, there is none. A constitution is a thing an-
tecedent to a government, and a government is only the
creature of a constitution. The constitution of a country
is not the act of its government, but of the people consti-
tuting a government. It is the body of elements, to
which you can refer, and quote article by article ; and
which contains the principles on which the government,
shall be established, the manner in which it shall be or-
ganized, the powers it shall have, the mode of elections,
the duration of parliaments, or by what other name such
bodies may be called; the powers which the executive
part of the government shall have ; and in fine, everything
that relates to the complete organization of a civil govern-
ment, and the principles on which it shall act, arid by
which it shall be bound. A constitution, therefore, is to
a government, what the laws made afterwards, by that go-
vernment, are to a court of judicature. The court of judi-
cature does not make the laws, neither can it alter them ;
it only acts in conformity to the laws made : and the go-
vernment is in like manner governed by the constitution.
Idem.
Society is nothing more than the easy and free commu-
nication of persons arid thoughts; and all the art of govern-
ment consists in preventing those violent shocks which
tend to its destruction. Volncy.
There are two modes by which men may be governed ;
one through their imagination and fears; the other through
their reason and affections. The first is the creature of
fancy, formed regardless of the unchanging laws of Na-
ture ; the second proceeds from accurate observation and
deep reflection, and is in strict accordance with all known
facts. The one, founded upon imagination, and acting
through our fear, perpetuates ignorance and poverty, and
OBJECTS OF GOVERNMENT. 47
engenders all crimes. The other, derived from experience
and founded upon facts, which are the same yesterday, to-
day, and for ever, will, of necessity, dissipate ignorance by
the gradual extension of real knowledge, relieve the popu-
lation of the world from poverty, and from the fear of it,
will remove the cause of all crime, arid create a superior
character, physically, intellectually, and morally, for the
human race. Owen.
Civil rulers cannot be considered as having any claims
that are co-extended with those of the people, nor as form-
ing a party separate from the nation. They are appointed
by the community to execute its will, and not to oppose it ;
to manage the public, not to pursue any private or particu-
lar interests. Robert Hall.
When men first began to multiply and exist together in
numbers, it was discovered that some plan for the regula-
tion of their collective movements was requisite; for as
some principle of order is essential to direct the energies
of a single mind, the necessity for a similar guiding power
among a multitude is very certain and obvious. Had hu-
man nature been in a state of moral perfection, no coercive
restraints would have been imposed, or necessary ; for if
men, with a true and luminous perception of the justice
and expediency of certain conduct or measures, felt a spon-
taneous disposition and determination to act upon its sug-
gestions, no mode of restraint or coercion, but such as rea-
son and experience might have supplied to each individual
member, would have been rendered imperative for the re-
gulation of society. But human nature, from the earliest
notices which we have of its character, has tendencies to
injustice, rapacity, and violence; and these have been con-
stantly operating in the destruction of social harmony, and
have entirely perverted the general character of society
from that perfection which, under the guidance of proper
motives, it is capable of attaining. Thus men, from their
individual inability to preserve their right of free action,
amongst beings constantly addicted to violence and op-
pression, would concentrate their numbers, and organize
their collective body into the best state for preventing ag-
gression, and endeavour to establish that security and ex-
emption from apprehension, without which their natural
right in pursuing the various avocations necessary for the
improvement of the mind, and the support of the body,
48 THE ORIGIN AND
wouhl have its operations suspended or destroyed. Car-
penter.
Some convenient tree will afford them a state-house,
under the branches of which the whole colony may assem-
ble to deliberate on public matters. It is more than pro-
bable that their first laws will have the title only of regula-
tions, and be enforced by no other penalty than public
disesteem. But as the colony increases, the public con-
cerns will increase likewise, and the distance at which the
members may be separated, will render it too inconvenient
for all of them to meet on every occasion as at first, when
their number was small, their habitations near, and the
public concerns few and trifling-. This will point out the
convenience of their consenting to leave the legislative
part to be managed by a select number chosen from the
whole body, who are supposed to have the same concerns
at stake which those have who appointed them, and who
will act in the same manner as the whole body would act,
were they present. Paine.
A state is a collective body, composed of a multitude of
individuals, united for their safety and convenience, and
intending to act together as one man. If it therefore is
to act as one man, it ought to act by one uniform will.
But, inasmuch as political communities are made up of
many natural persons, each of whom has his particular
will and inclination, these several wills cannot by any na-
tural union be joined together, or tempered and disposed
into a lasting harmony, so as to constitute and produce
that one uniform will of the whole. It can, therefore, be
no otherwise produced than by a political union, by the
consent of all persons to submit their own private wills to
the will of one man, or of one or more assemblies of men,
to whom the supreme authority is intrusted. Blackstone.
But in originating an executive and legislative power, it
is evident that men never purposed to sacrifice their na-
tural right ; and that this government had only a derived,
and not an inherent, authority. The creation of govern-
ments was intended to secure the welfare of society from
violence, both foreign and domestic, and thus to enlarge the
sphere of free action in which the original powers or facul-
ties of man might operate with increased safety and advan-
tage. To infer the converse, that his pursuit of comfort
would be obstructed by self- created obstacles, that he
OBJECTS OF GOVERNMENT. 49
would, in fact, surrender the very constitution which iden-
tified him as a man, is one of the utmost absurdities which
diseased imaginations could possibly deduce or generate.
As a general deduction, therefore, supported by the testi-
mony of nature, it may be asserted, that men originally .
established civil government for the protection of natural
right, and that government is invested with nothing but a
derived authority, which implies the most solemn responsi-
bility to those by whom it was originally conferred, or by
whose consent it continues to exist. Nature, or if we may
adduce a more awful and definite authority, the Supreme
Being, never gave any prescriptive powers, or established
any diversities of physical condition. He is, emphatically,
" no respecter of persons." All men are born alike help-
less, but are gifted with a general equality of power to pro-
vide for their future subsistence; so that as to natural
exigence, and natural ability for supply, the most obvious
equality is established. Carpenter.
Political arrangement is more or less perfect, in propor-
tion as it enables us to exert our natural liberty to the
greatest advantage. If it is diverted to any other purpose,
it is made the instrument of gratifying the passions of a
few, or imposes greater restraint than its object prescribes :
it degenerates into tyranny and oppression. Robert Hall.
No man, who knows aught, can be so stupid as to deny
that all men naturally were born free, being the image and
resemblance of God himself; and were (by privilege above
all the creatures) born to command, and not to obey:
and that they lived so, till, (from the root of Adam's trans-
gression,) falling among themselves to do acts of injustice
and violence, and foreseeing that such courses must needs
tend to the destruction of them all, they agreed by com-
mon league to bind each other to refrain from mutual in-
jury, and jointly to defend themselves against any that
should give disturbance or opposition to such agreement.
And, because no faith in all was found sufficiently binding,
they saw that it was necessary to ordain some authority that
might restrain by force and punishment acts of violence that
were done against peace and common right. This autho-
rity and power of self-defence and preservation (which was
originally and naturally vested in every individual mem-
ber of each community, and unitedly in them all) they
(for the sake of ease and good order, and lest eacn inau
IV. E
50 THE ORIGIN AND
should Ipe his own partial judge) communicated and dele-
gated either to one man amongst them, whom they chose
for his eminence in wisdom and integrity above the rest, or
to more than one such man, when they had more men
amongst them w r hom they thought equally deserving of
such a high trust; and they called a person so chosen,
when they had chosen only one such governor, their king,
and when they had chosen more than one such governor,
they called them their magistrates. But they did not mean
thereby to make them their lords and masters, (though
afterwards those names, in some places, were given volun-
tarily to such as had been authors of inestimable good to
the people,) but to be their deputies and commissioners,
to execute, by virtue of their intrusted power, that justice
which else every man, by the bond of nature and of cove-
nant, must have executed for himself, and for one another.
*********
It being thus manifest that the power of kings and magis-
trates is nothing else but what is only derivative, transferred
and committed to them in trust, from the people, for the
common good of them all, in whom the power yet remains
fundamentally, and cannot be taken from theni, without a
violation of their natural birthright ; and seeing that from
hence Aristotle, arid the best political writers, have defined
a king to be, " him who governs to the good and profit of
his people, and not for his own ends ;" it follows from ne-
cessary causes, that the titles of sovereign lord, natural lord,
and the like, are either arrogancies or flatteries, not ad-
mitted by emperors and kings of the best note, and dis-
liked by the church, both of Jews (Is. xxvi. 13) and of
ancient Christians, as appears by Tertullian and others.
*********
It follows, lastly, that since the king, or magistrate, held
his authority of the people, both originally and naturally,
for their good in the first place, and not his own ; then
may the people as oft as they shall judge it for the best,
either choose him or reject him, retain him or depose him,
though no tyrant, merely by the liberty and right of free-
born men to' be governed as seems to them best. This,
tliough it cannot but stand with plain reason, shall be made
good also by Scripture.* Mttton.
* We have omitted the Scriptural arguments, us being too
prolix for our space.
OBJECTS OF GOVERNMENT. 51
The ultimate end of all government is the good of the
people now, the greatest good of a people is their liberty
liberty is to the collective body what health is to every
individual body. Without health no pleasure can be
tasted by man ; without liberty no happiness can be en-
joyed by society. BoKngbroke.
When the science of government shall be known, all its
measures will be to prevent the existence of evil, and
thereby render it unnecessary to waste its powers in un-
availing attempts to cure the evil, after unwisely allowing
the evil to arrive at maturity. The governing powers will
clearly understand, that it will be for their own best in-
terest, and for the permanent good of all society, carefully
to watch the growth of every evil, and to destroy it in the
bud; for assuredly, in whatever country artificial evils
exist, that country is not well governed. In the present
advanced state of the sciences, ignorance and poverty, or
even the fear of poverty, are artificial evils ; and whenever
these evils afflict and oppress the great body of the people,
it is most evident that a change in the principle of the go-
vernment of the country, in which they prevail, is neces-
sary, and will be highly beneficial to all parties. Owen.
What is government more than the management of the
affairs of a nation ? It is not, arid from its nature cannot be,
the property of any particular man or family, but of the
whole community, at whose expense it is supported ; and
though by force or contrivance it has been usurped into
an inheritance, the usurpation cannot alter the right of
things. Sovereignty, as a matter of right, appertains to
the nation only, and not to any individual ; and a nation
has at all tunes an inherent and indefeasible right to abo-
lish any form of government it finds inconvenient, and esta-
blish such as accords with its interest, disposition, and
happiness. Robert Hall.
SECTION II.
THE FOUNDATION OF CIVIL GOVERNMENT.
As no man can have any natural or inherent right to
rule, any more than another, it necessarily follows, that a
E 2
52
clqim to dominion, wherever it is lodged, must be ulti-
mately referred back to the explicit or implied consent of
the people. Whatever source of civil authority is assigned
different from this, will be found to resolve itself into mere
force. Robert Hall.
In spite of the attempts of sophistry to conceal the
origin of political right, it must inevitably rest at length on
the acquiescence of the people. In the case of individuals
it is extremely plain. If one man should overwhelm ano-
ther with superior force, and after completely subduing
him, under the name of government, transmit him in this
condition to his heirs, every one would exclaim against
such an act of injustice. But whether the object of his
oppression be one or a million, can make no difference in
its nature, the idea of equity having no relation to that of
numbers. Robert Hall.
No man has power over his own life, or to dispose of
his own religion, and cannot, consequently, transfer the
power of either to any body else ; much less can he give
away the lives, liberties, religion, of his posterity, who
will be born as free as himself, and can never be bound by
his wicked and ridiculous bargain. Trenchard.
There never did, there never will, and there never can
exist a parliament, or any description of men, in any
country, possessed of the right or the power of binding
and controlling posterity to the end of time, or of com-
manding for ever how the world shall be governed, or who
shall govern it ; and therefore all such clauses, acts, or de-
clarations, by which the makers of them attempt to do
what they have neither the right nor the power to do, nor
the power to execute, are in themselves null and void.
Every age and generation must be as free to act for itselfj
in all cases, as the ages and generations which preceded it.
The vanity and presumption of governing beyond the
grave, is the most ridiculous and insolent of all tyrannies.
Man has no property in man; neither has any generation
a property in the generations which are to follow
Every generation is, and must be, competent to all the
purposes which its occasions require. It is the living, and
not the dead, that are to be accommodated. When man
ceases to be, his power and his wants cease with him ; and
having no longer any participation in the concerns of this
world, he has no longer any authority in directing who
OF FORMS OF GOVERNMENT. 53
shall be its governors, or how its government shall be
organized, or how administered. Pome.
As we are not to live for ever ourselves, and other ge-
nerations are to follow us, we have neither the power nor
the right to govern them, nor to say how they shall govern
themselves. It is the summit of human vanity, and shows
a covetousness of power beyond the grave, to be dictating
to the world to come. It is sufficient that we do that
which is right in our own day, and leave them with the
advantage of good examples .... If it was made an article
in the constitution, that all laws and acts should cease of
themselves in thirty years, and have no legal force beyond
that time, it would prevent their becoming too numerous
and voluminous, and serve to keep them within view, and
in a compact compass. Such as were proper to be con-
tinued, would be enacted again, and those which were not,
would go into oblivion. There is the same propriety that
a nation should fix a time for a full settlement of its affairs,
and begin again from a new date, as that an individual
should ; and to keep within the distance of thirty years
would be a convenient period. Idem.
As the natural equality of one generation is the same as
that of another, the people have always the same right to
new-model their government, and set aside their rulers.
This right, like others, may be exerted capriciously and
absurdly ; but no human power can have any pretensions
to intercept its exercise. Robert Hall.
CHAPTER IV.
OF FORMS OF GOVERNMENT.
THE greatest amount of happiness being the end, the
best form of Government must be that in which the
smallest number of chances, or at least probability, exists of
the enforcement of such laws or acts as are contrary to the
general interest ; and the greatest number of chances, or
tri eatest probability, exists of the adoption of such as are
favourable to it. These chances, then, are to be esti-
mated, and as we find them to be in favour of democracy
an aristocracy or despotism so shall we do right in
54 DEMOCRACY OR REPUBLICANISM.
trying to persuade men to be of the same mind with us,
that such a system may be ultimately declared for by the
majority. Anon.
Security being the true design and end of government,
it unanswerably follows, that whatever form thereof ap-
pears most likely to insure it to us with the least expense
and greatest benefit, is preferable to all others. Paine.
On a comparison of free with arbitrary governments,
we perceive the former are distinguished from the latter,
by imparting a much greater share of happiness to those
who live under them ; and this in a manner too uniform
to be imputed to chance or secret causes. He who wills
the end, must will the means which ascertain it. Robert
Hall.
[We shall not be careful to ascertain with strict philoso-
phical accuracy the several forms of government distin-
guished in ancient times by various denominations. It is
enough that we employ these denominations in their modern
and current acceptation. The several species of govern-
ment to be noticed are, democracy aristocracy mon-
archy mixed governments and despotism.]
SECTION I.
DEMOCRACY OR REPUBLICANISM.
A DEMOCRACY is a form of government, in which the
people at large, either collectively or by representation,
constitute the legislature. Paley.
What is called a Republic, is not any particular form of
government; it is wholly characteristical of the purport,
matter, or object for which government ought to be insti-
tuted, and on which it is to be employed, RES-PUBLICA, the
public affairs, or the public good j or literally translated,
the public thing. ' It is a word of a good original, referring
to what ought to be the character arid business of govern-
ment ; and in this sense it is naturally opposed to the
word monarchy, which has a base original signification. It
means arbitrary power in an individual person; in the
exercise of which, himself, and not the res-publica, is the
object.^- Paine.
DEMOCRACY OR REPUBLICANISM. 55
In republics, such as those established in America, the
sovereign power, or the power over which there is no con-
trol, and which controls all others, remains where nature
placed it, in the people ; for the people in America are
the fountain of power. It remains there as a matter of
right, recognised in the constitutions of the country, and
the exercise of it is constitutional and legal. This sove-
reignty is exercised in electing and deputing a certain num-
ber of "persons to represent and act for the whole, and who,
if they do not act right, may be displaced by the same
power that placed them there, and others elected and de-
puted in their stead, and the wrong measures of former
representatives corrected and brought right by this means.
Therefore, the republican form and principle leaves no
room for insurrection, because it provides and establishes a
rightful means in its stead. Idem.
The repository where the sovereign power is placed is
the first criterion of distinction between a country under a
despotic form of government and a free couiatry. In a
country under a despotic government, the Sovereign is the
only free man in it. In a republic, the people retaining
the sovereignty themselves, naturally and necessarily retain
freedom with it : for, wherever the sovereignty is, there
must the freedom be ; the one cannot be in one place, and
the other in another. Idem.
The administration of a republic is supposed to be di-
rected by certain fundamental principles of right and jus-
tice, from which there cannot, because there ought not, to
be any deviation; and whenever any deviation appears,
there is a kind of stepping out of the republican principle,
and an approach towards the despotic one. This adminis-
tration is executed by a select number of persons, periodi-
cally chosen by the people, and act as representatives and
in behalf of the whole, and who are supposed to enact the
same laws, and pursue the same line of administration, as
the whole of the people would do were they assembled
together. The public good is to be their object. It is
therefore necessary to understand what Public Good is.
Public Good is not a term opposed to the good of indi-
viduals ; on the contrary, it is the good of every individual
collected. It is the good of all, because it is the good of
every one : for as the public body is every individual col-
lected, so the public good is, the collected good of those
56 DEMOCRACY OR REPUBL1CANISBI.
individuals. The foundation principle of Public Good is
justice, and wherever justice is impartially administered,
the public good is promoted ; for as it is to the good of
every man that no injustice be done to him, so likewise it
is to his good that the principle which secures him should
not be violated in the person of another, because such a
violation weakens his security, and leaves to chance what
ought to be to him a rock to stand on. Idem.
When a people agree to form themselves into a republic
(for the word REPUBLIC means the PUBLIC GOOD, or the
good of the whole, in contradiction to the despotic form,
which makes the good of the sovereign, or of one man, the
only object of the government), when, I say, they agree to
do this, it is to be understood, that they mutually resolve
and pledge themselves to each other, rich and poor alike,
to support and maintain this rule of equal justice among
them. They therefore renounce not only the despotic
form, but the despotic principle, as well of governing as of
being governed by mere will and power, and substitute in
its place a government of justice. By this mutual com-
pact the citizens of a republic put it out of their power,
that is, they renounce, as detestable, the power of exercis-
ing at any future time, any species of despotism over each
other, or doing a thing not right in itself, because a ma-
jority of them may have strength of numbers sufficient to
accomplish it. Idem.
The sovereignty of a despotic monarch assumes the
power of making wrong right, or right wrong, as he pleases
or as it suits him. The sovereignty in a republic is exer-
cised to keep right and wrong in their proper and distinct
places, and never to suffer the one to usurp the place of the
other. A republic, properly understood, is a sovereignty
of justice, in contradistinction to a sovereignty of will.
Idem.
It is the harmony of all the parts of a republic that con-
stitutes their several and mutual good. A Government
that is constructed only to govern, is not a Republican
Government. It is combining authority with usefulness
that in a great measure distinguishes the republican system
from others. Idem.
It is the common opinion, that no large state could ever
be modelled into a Commonwealth, but that such a form
of Government can only take place in a city or small ter-
DEMOCRACY OR REPUBLICANISM. 67
ritory. The contrary seems probable. Though it is more
difficult to form a republican government in an extensive
country than in a city, there is more facility, when once
it is formed, of preserving it steady and uniform, without
tumult and faction. In a large government, which is
modelled with masterly skill, there is compass and room
enough to refine the democracy from the lower people who
may be admitted into the first elections, or first concoctions
of the Commonwealth, to the higher magistrates who direct
all the movements. At the same time, the parts are so
distant and remote, that it is very difficult, either by
intrigue, prejudice, or passion, to hurry them into any
measures against the public interest. Hume.
In a Democracy, where the right of making laws resides
in the people at large, public virtue, or goodness of inten-
tion, is more likely to be found, than in either of the other
qualities of government. Popular assemblies are frequently
foolish in their contrivance, and weak in their execution ;
but generally mean to do the thing that is right and just,
and have always a degree of patriotism or public spirit.
Blackstone.
The advantages of a republic are, liberty, or exemption
from needless restrictions; equal laws ; regulations adapted
to the wants and circumstances of the people ; public spirit,
frugality, averseness to war ; the opportunities which demo-
cratic assemblies afford to men of every description, of
producing their abilities and counsels to public observation,
and the exciting thereby, and calling forth to the service
of the commonwealth, the faculties of its best citizens.
**####*#**
Amongst the inferior, but by no means inconsiderable
advantages of a DEMOCRATIC constitution, or of a consti-
tution in which the people partake of the power of legisla-
tion, the following should not be neglected :
1. The direction which it gives to the education, studies,
and pursuits, of the superior orders of the community.
The share which this has in forming the public manners
and national character, is very important. In countries,
iii which the gentry are excluded from all concern in the
government, scarcely any thing is left which leads to ad-
vancement, but the profession of arms. They who do not
addict themselves to this profession (and miserable must
that country be, which constantly employs the military
58 DEMOCRACY OR REPUBLICANISM.
service of a great proportion of any order of its subjects !)
are commonly lost by the mere want of object and destina-
tion ; that is, they either fall, without reserve, into the most
sottish habits of animal gratification, or entirely devote
themselves to the attainment of those futile arts and decora-
tions which compose the business and recommendations of
a court : on the other hand, where the whole, or any
effective portion, of civil power is possessed by a popular
assembly, more serious pursuits will be encouraged; purer
morals, and a more intellectual character, will engage the
public esteem ; those faculties which qualify men for de-
liberation and debate, and which are the fruit of sober
habits, of early and long-continued application, will be
roused and animated by the reward which, of all others,
most readily awakens the ambition of the human mind
political dignity and importance.
2. Popular elections procure to the common people
courtesy from their superiors. That contemptuous and
overbearing insolence, with which the lower orders of the
community are wont to be treated by the higher, is greatly
mitigated, where the people have something to give. The
assiduity with which their favour is sought upon these
occasions, serves to generate settled habits of condescen-
sion and respect ; and as human life is more embittered by
affronts than injuries, whatever contributes to procure mild-
ness and civility of manners toward those who are most
liable to suffer from a contrary behaviour, corrects, with
the pride, in a great measure, the evil of inequality, and
deserves to be accounted among the most generous insti-
tutions of social life.
3. The satisfactions which the people in free govern-
ments derive from the knowledge and agitation of politi-
cal subjects ; such as the proceedings and debates of the
senate ; the conduct and characters of ministers ; the revo-
lutions, intrigues, and contentions of parties ; and, in gen-
eral, from the discussion of public measures, questions, and
occurrences. Subjects of this sort excite just enough of
interest and emotion to afford a moderate engagement to
the thoughts, without rising to any painful degree of
anxiety, or ever leaving a fixed oppression upon the spirits;
and what is this, but the end and aim of all those amuse-
ments which compose so much of the business of life and
of the value of riches ? For my part (and I believe it to
DEMOCRACY OR REPUBLICANISM. 59
be the case with most men who are arrived at the middle
age, and occupy the middle classes of life), had I all the
money which I pay in taxes to government, at liberty to
lay out upon amusement and diversion, I know not whether
I could make choice of any in which I could find greater
pleasure than what I receive from expecting, hearing, and
relating public news; reading parliamentary debates and
proceedings ; canvassing the political arguments, projects,
predictions, and intelligence, which are conveyed, by vari-
ous channels, to every corner of the kingdom. These
topics, exciting universal curiosity, and being such as
almost every man is ready to form, and prepared to deliver
his opinion about, greatly promote, and, I think, improve
conversation. They render it more rational and more
innocent ; they supply a substitute for drinking, gaming,
scandal, and obscenity. Now the secrecy, the jealousy,
the solitude, and precipitation, of despotic governments,
exclude all this. But the loss, you say, is trifling. I know
that it is possible to render even the mention of it ridicu-
lous, by representing it as the idle employment of the most
insignificant part of the nation, the folly of village states-
men and coffee-house politicians : but I allow nothing to
be a trifle, which ministers to the harmless gratification of
multitudes ; nor any order of men to be insignificant, whose
number bears a respectable proportion to the sum of the
whole community.
**********
The evils of a republic are dissension, tumults, faction ;
the attempts of powerful citizens to possess themselves of
the empire ; the confusion, rage, and clamour, which are
the inevitable consequences of assembling multitudes, and
of propounding questions of state to the discussion of the
people ; the delay and disclosure of public counsels and
designs ; and the imbecility of measures, retarded by the
necessity of obtaining the consent of numbers : lastly, the
oppression of the provinces which are not admitted to a
participation in the legislative power.* Paley.
Those who have said that a republic is not a form of
government calculated for countries of great extent, mis-
* Nearly the whole of these inconveniences, which attach to
a simple democracy, are got rid of in a representative democracy,
and SL federal republic. Editor.
GO DEMOCRACY OR REPUBLICANISM.
look, in the first place, the business of a government lor a
form of government ; for the res-publica equally appertains
to every extent of territory and population. And, in the
second place, if they meant any thing with respect ioform,
it was the simple democraticaTform, such as was the mode
of government in the ancient democracies, in which there
was no representation. The case, therefore, is not, that a
republic cannot be extensive, but that it cannot be exten-
sive on the simple democratical form ; and the question
naturally presents itself what is the best form of govern-
ment for conducting the res-publica, or the PUBLIC BUSI-
NESS of a nation, after it becomes too extensive and popu-
lous for the simple democratical form ?
#*#*####.##
Referring then to the original simple democracy, it
affords the true data, from which government on a large
scale can begin. It is incapable of extension, not from its
principle, but from the inconvenience of its form; and
monarchy and aristocracy from their incapacity. Retain-
ing, then, democracy as the ground, and rejecting the cor-
rupt systems of monarchy and aristocracy, the representa-
tive system naturally presents itself; remedying at once
the defects of the simple democracy as to form, and the
incapacity of the other two with respect to knowledge.
Simple democracy was society governing itself without
the aid of secondary means. By engrafting representation
upon democracy, we arrive at a system of government ca-
pable of embracing and confederating all the various inter-
ests, and every extent of territory and population ; and
that also with advantages as much superior to hereditary
government, as the republic of letters is to hereditary liter-
ature.* Paine.
Were we to characterize a Republic, we should say, it
is a state in which power, both theoretically and practically,
is derived from the nation, with a constant responsibility
of the agents of the public to the public ; a responsibility
that is neither to be evaded nor denied. That such a sys-
tem is better on a large than on a small scale, though con-
trary to brilliant theories, which have been written to up-
hold different institutions, must be evident on the smallest
* It is on this principle that the American government is
founded.
ARISTOCRACY AND OLIGARCHY. 61
reflection ; since the danger of all popular governments is
from popular mistakes, and a people of diversified interests
and extended territorial possessions, are much less likely to
be their subjects than the inhabitants of a single town or
country. If to this definition we should add, as an infalli-
ble test of the genus, that a true republic is a government
of which all others ar^ jealous and vituperative, on the
instinct of self-preservation, we believe there would be no
mistaking the class. Cooper.
SECTION II.
ARISTOCRACY AND OLIGARCHY.
AN Aristocracy is a government in which the sovereign
power is lodged in a council composed of select members.
In aristocracies there is more wisdom to be found,
than in the other frames of government ; being composed,
or intended to be composed, of the most experienced citi-
zens ; but there is less honesty than in a republic, and less
strength than in a monarchy. Blackstone.
The separate advantage of an aristocracy consists in the
wisdom which may be expected from experience and edu-
cation : a permanent council naturally possesses experi-
ence ; and the members who succeed to their places in it
by inheritance, will, probably, be trained and educated
with a view to the stations which they are destined by
birth to occupy. Paley.
By aristocracy I mean a government of particular citi-
zpns in right of their wealth, or their family, or their reli-
gion, or any other circumstance except capacity or virtue.
By oligarchy I mean an aristocracy drawn into fewer
hands. The Venetian government, consisting of sixteen
hundred nobles, was in my acceptation of the term, an aris-
tocracy ; when it became narrowed in effect to the pregadi,
who were limited to two hundred and fifty, it became an
oligarchy. Thus, at Athens, when the popular govern-
ment was dispossessed by the four hundred, the constitu-
tion of Athens was aristocratical ; when this was dissolved,
and the government was vested in five thousand, among
whom were all those who carried arms, the aristocracy was
62 ARISTOCRACY AND OLIGARCHY.
enlarged ; when afterward the government was confined to
thirty, the aristocracy became an oligarchy ; and when the
thirty were still farther contracted to ten, it approached, as
Tacitus generally says of the domination of a few, the licen-
tiousness of royalty. It was under a similar contracted
form of government, that the Thebans became traitors to
Greece ; and such was their plea, when reproved for assist-
ing the Medes. They lamented that their government
was neither a democracy, nor a legitimate oligarchy; which
the scholiast on Thucydides interprets aristocracy; but
under the dominion of a few, which they considered most
illegal, and, as I have quoted from Tacitus, approaching
a tyranny.
To explain this distinction by examples connected with
our own affairs, the government of Scotland became an
oligarchy, when, in the reign of James the Sixth, the ad-
ministration of the public purse, and with it the power of
the state, was conferred on eight men, called on that ac-
count octavians. The same has more than once been the
misfortune of England. Whether its government were
more monarchical or aristocratical in the thirteenth and four-
teenth centuries, or whether it fluctuated to either side, as
the king was capable or not, is uninteresting to our inquiry;
but there can be no doubt, that Leicester and his faction
of twenty -four, changed, in 1258, the existing government
into an oligarchy, when they induced the Parliament at
Oxford to choose twelve barons, to represent the commu-
nity in future, under the pretence of relieving from trouble
and expense those who had formerly been obliged to give
their personal attendance in that assembly. In like man-
ner, when, in 1386, the two houses invested a committee
of eleven prelates and peers with full parliamentary powers,
and compelled the king also to confer on them his prero-
gatives, the government was oligarchical ; as it was, of
course, by a similar appointment in 1398. Let me add,
that the catastrophe of both was identical; for they
brought ruin on themselves, and on all who promoted or
opposed them.
In favour of oligarchies, such as I have mentioned, I
know not a single advocate. Plato, it is true, recommends
an oligarchy ; but of what kind ? An oligarchy in which
philosophers rule, or the rulers are philosophers. By the
same interpretation, Aristotle might be quoted as attached
MONARCHIES. G3
to monarchy, when he, I fear, clandestinely flattered
Alexander in his rodomontade of a king appointed by
the royalty of his nature to command mankind.
Nor have aristocracies, according to my definition of
them, had any advocates, though some have praised par-
ticular aristocracies, and others have admired peculiar cir-
cumstances resulting from some, which they have distin-
guished ; as Guicciardini has praised the constancy and
perseverance of the Venetian ; and in this respect they are
frequently preferable both to monarchies and democracies.
But what is the value of this, when balanced against their
manifold defects ? Consider the wretched condition of the
Venetian state. The same individuals were often alter-
nately informers and accused, spies and suspected ; nay,
the spy was often at the same time submitted to a more
prying inquisitor. Even this was insufficient to satisfy the
universal jealousy, and a public reservoir was opened, to
accept any casual notices, that treachery or malevolence
might suggest. So jealous and wretched were they, that
they durst employ no troops but foreign mercenaries, lest
their government should be overthrown by their own citi-
zens. Nor were their terrors vain ; for, except a foreign,
military, mercenary despotism, any alternative is prefer-
able to an aristocracy. The catastrophe of this sort of
government has been universally the same : for the people
have always, as in Denmark, in 1660, and in Sweden, in
1772, exchanged with joy their aristocracy for a monarchy.
What then must that state be, when monarchy, which So-
mers truly calls no form of government, is resorted to in
exchange for an aristocracy as a refuge by the people ?
Ensor.
SECTION III.
MONARCHIES.*
THE separate advantages of a monarchy are, unity of
counsel, activity, decision, secrecy, dispatch ; the military
* We confine ourselves here to limited monarchies; i. e. a
government in which the king is bound to govern by certain
fundamental laws. E*i.
64 MONARCHIES.
strength and energy which result from these qualities of
government ; the exclusion of popular and aristocratical
contentions ; the preventing, by a known rule of succes-
sion, of all competition for the supreme power; and there-
by repressing the hopes, intrigues, and dangerous ambition
of aspiring citizens.
The mischiefs, or rather the dangers, of monarchy, are,
tyranny, expense, exaction, military domination ; unneces-
sary wars, waged to gratify the passions of an individual ;
risk of the character of the reigning prince ; ignorance in
the governors of the interests and accommodation of the
people, and a consequent deficiency of salutary regulations;
want of constancy and uniformity in the rules of govern-
ment, and, proceeding from thence, insecurity of person
and property. Paley.
Government by kings was first introduced into the
world by the heathens, from whom the children of Israel
copied the custom. It was the most prosperous invention
the devil ever set on foot for the promotion of idolatry.
The heathens paid divine honours to their deceased kings,
and the Christian world hath improved on the plan, by
doing the same to their living ones. How impious is the
title of sacred Majesty applied to a worm, who in the midst
of his splendour is crumbling into dust ! Paine.
Under every monarchical establishment, it may be ne-
cessary to distinguish the prince from his subjects, not
only by the outward pomp and decorations of majesty,
but also by ascribing to him certain qualities, as inherent
in his royal capacity, distinct from, and superior to, those
of any other individual in the nation. For, though a phi-
losophical mind will consider the royal person merely as
one man, appointed by mutual consent to preside over
many others, and will pay him that reverence and duty
which the principles of society demand ; yet, the mass of
mankind will be apt to grow insolent and refractory, if
taught to consider their prince as a man of no greater
perfection than themselves. The law, therefore, ascribes
to the king, in his high political character, not only large
powers and emoluments, which form his prerogative and
revenue ; but likewise certain attributes 'of a great and
transcendent nature ; by which the people are led to con-
sider him in the light of a superior being, and to pay him
that awful respect which may enable him, with greater
MONARCHIES. 65
ease, to carry on the business of the government. Slack-
stone.
As the exalting one man so greatly above the rest can-
not be justified on the equal Rights of Nature, so neither
can it be defended on the authority of Scripture ; for the
will of the Almighty, as declared by Gideon and the pro-
phet Samuel, expressly disapproves of government by
Kings. All anti-monarchical parts of the Scripture have
been very smoothly glossed over in monarchical govern-
ments, but they undoubtedly merit the attention of coun-
tries which have their governments yet to form. " Ren-
der unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's," is the Scrip-
ture doctrine of Courts, yet it is no support of monarchical
government, for the Jews at that time were without a king,
and in a state of vassallage to the Romans. MUton.
Monarchy is ranked in Scripture as one of the sins of
the Jews, for which a curse in reserve is denounced against
them. Paine.
If we inquire into the business of a king, we shall find
that in some countries they have none ; and after saunter-
ing away their lives without pleasure to themselves or ad-
vantage to the nation, they withdraw from the scene, and
leave their successors to tread the same idle ground. In ab-
solute monarchies the whole weight of business, civil and
military, lies on the king; the children of Israel, in their
request for a king, urged this plea, " that he may judge us,
and go out before us, and fight our battles." But in coun-
tries where he is neither a judge, nor a general, a man
would be puzzled to know what is his business. Idem.
In England the king hath little more to do than to make
war and give away places ; which, in plain terms, is to
impoverish the nation, and set it together by the ears. A
pretty business, indeed, for a man to be allowed eight hun-
dred thousand sterling a-year for, and worshipped into the
bargain ! Of more worth is one honest man to society, and
in the sight of God, than all the crowned ruffians that ever
lived. Idem.
But, after all, what is this metaphor called a crown, or
rather, what is monarchy ? Is it a thing, or is it a name, or
is it a fraud ? Is it " a contrivance of human wisdom,"
or of human craft, to obtain money from a nation under
specious pretences ? Is it a thing necessary to a nation ?
If it is, in what does that necessity consist? What services
V. F
66 MONARCHIES.
does it perform ? What is its business, and what are its
merits ? Doth the virtue consist in the metaphor, or in the
man ? Doth the goldsmith that makes the crown, make
the virtue also ? Doth it operate like Fortunatus's wish-
ing-cap, or Harlequin's wooden sword ? Doth it make a
man a conjurer ? In fine, what is it ? It appears to be a
something going much out of fashion, falling into ridicule,
and rejected in some countries, both as unnecessary and
expensive. Paine.
Royalty, after all, is an expensive government ! What is
a king without an aristocracy and a priesthood ? and what
are any of these, unless supported in splendour and magni-
ficence ? It is a system in which men are sought to be go-
verned by the senses rather than a the understanding, and
is more adapted to a barbarous than civilized state. Pa-
geantry and ceremony, the parade of crowns and coronets,
of gold keys, sticks, white wands, and black rods; of
ermine and lawn, and maces and wigs ; these are the chief
attributes of monarchy. They are more appropriate to the
state of the king of the Birmans or of the Ashantees than to
the sovereign of an European community. They cease to
inspire respect when men become enlightened, when they
have learned that the real object of government is to con-
fer the greatest happiness on the people at the least ex-
pense : but it is a beggarly greatness, an absurd system,
that would perpetuate such fooleries amidst an 'impo-
verished population, amidst debts, and taxes, and pau-
perism. Black Book.
The morality of a king is not to be measured by vulgar
rules. His situation is singular. There are faults which
do him honour, and virtues that disgrace him. A fault-
less, insipid equality, in his character, is neither capable of
virtue nor vice in the extreme; but it secures his submis-
sion to those persons whom he has been accustomed to
respect, and makes him a dangerous instrument of their
ambition. Secluded from the world, attached from his in-
fancy to one set of persons, and one set of ideas, he can
neither open his heart to new connections, nor his mind to
better information. A character of this sort, is a soil fittest
to produce that obstinate bigotry in politics and religion,
which begins with a meritorious sacrifice of the understand-
ing, and finally conduct the monarch and the martyr to the
block. Jiunius.
MONARCHIES. 67
One of the most plausible arguments that has ever been
produced in favour of monarchical Government, is, that it
excludes the countries which are subject to it from civil
convulsions. If this were true, it certainly would have
some claim upon reasonable men for their approbation and
support; but the evidence of all history goes to controvert
the correctness of the position. Instead of monarchical
government securing a country against intestine divisions,
and foreign wars, the reverse of this is the fact : civil broils
arid foreign disputes, with their usual attendants, private
and public plunder, are the characteristic features of mon-
archical government. The history of every country in
the world, and particularly of England, is full of evidence
as to the truth of this assertion. It is unnecessary, how-
ever, to wander into the records of other countries; those
of our own are ample enough for the purpose. What is
the whole history of England, but a continued scene of
rapine and desolation, with now and then a few solitary in-
tervals of repose ? These intervals, thinly scattered over a
period of eight centuries, appear rather to be the effect of
exhaustion, than of a wish for peace. During this pro-
tracted period, we shall scarcely ever find the nation in a
quiet state when its resources were able to support a war ;
when there has been no excuse for plunging the people
into a foreign war, their task-masters have sown the seeds
of civil dissension, and these despots have always taken
care to reap the harvest. The following account, ex-
tracted from the History of England, will convey more
information upon the real nature of monarchical govern-
ment than all that has been written upon the subject :
William the Norman 1
William Rufus 2
Henry 1 3
Interruption, by the Usurpation of Stephen.
Henry II 1
Richard 1 2
John 3
Interruption, by the Usurpation of Louis the Dauphin.
Henry III 1
Edward I. 2
Edward II 3
F 2
68 MONARCHIES.
Interruption, by the Abdication and Murder of Ed-
ward II.
Edward III 1
Richard II 2
Interruption, by the Deposition of this Monarch.
Henry IV 1
Henry V 2
Henry VI 3
Interruption, by the Restoration of the House of York.
Edward IV 1
Edward V 2
Richard III 3
Interruption, by the Usurpation of Henry Richmond.
Henry VII 1
Henry VIII 2
Interruption, by the Election of Lady Jane Grey, and
the Bastardization of King Henry's Daughters.
Mary ." 1
Elizabeth 2
A foreign King called in to assume the Crown.
James 1 1
Charles 1 2
Interruption, by the Deposition of the Monarch, and the
Establishment of other Forms of Government.
Charles II 1
James II 2
Interrupted by the Abdication of the King, and the
Election of a Foreigner.
William III 1
Anne 2
Interrupted by the Parliamentary appointment of a
Foreigner.
George I I
George II 2
George III 3
George IV 4
William IV 5
From the above statement, it appears, that since the
time of William the Conqueror, there have not been more
MONARCHIES. 69
than three reignx in succession, without some violent inter-
ruption.*
The most ridiculous thing in the conduct of a nation,
is that of suffering any office in its government to be suffi-
ciently lucrative to render it an object of contention. It
is the possession of power and profit, which is the general
stimulus of ambition ; take away these, and ambition will
die away like a fire without fuef. Dominion and emolu-
ment are the food on which ambition fattens : take these
away, and we shall hear but little of conquerors and wars.
The reason why we read of so many, and such bloody con-
tests for the English crown, is, that it is an office to which
an immense salary is attached, and where there is no duty
to perform, except that of dissipating the money, and
abusing the authority. This is the duty of a king of Eng-
land, or at least it is all the duty which he ever performs.
An office of this sort is sure to be an object of contention,
and the greatest proof of a want of wisdom in the nation,
is its continuance.
We hear of no civil broils we hear of no disposition to
engage in foreign wars on the part of the Government of
America ; and the reason is evident. We hear of no
bloody contests for the office of President of the United
States, and the moment we look at this fact, we are struck
with the cause. In America there are no inducements
for ambitious men to imbrue their hands in blood and
crime for the sake of getting admission into public affairs ;
because, in the first place, such means would not procure
what they wanted, and if they did procure it, the booty
would not be an equivalent for the danger. But in
America, there are neither kings, courts, aristocracy, nor
national priesthood, and therefore there is none of the
filth in which Government crimes are generated. It is
these, which for so many centuries have been and still con-
tinue to be the bane of England's prosperity.
Courtiers and interested sycophants may disguise cir-
cumstances as thev please, but they will find it difficult to
overthrow the following proposition: a public office is
either useful or it is not ; it is either a benefit to a nation
or it is a useless incumbrance. The English monarchy is
one of these, and it does not require much national wis-
* See page 19.
70 A MIXED GOVERNMENT.
dom to discover which. If it be the former, it ought to
be continued ; and if the latter, it ought to be abolished.
The common sense of every reader, after perusing the
facts above stated, is able to decide the merits of the
question.
There is not any species of slavery, that is more easily
sucked in than a slavish submission to names, or mere
things of sound. This may be discovered in the conduct
of the people of England during the whole of the period
above alluded to. The English of the present day have
been born and bred up in the same sort of political super-
stition as their forefathers, and though the light of politi-
cal information has gone forth to the world, it is easy to
see that the relics of former devotion are not destroyed.
It is high time for nations to be rational. They have suf-
fered enough, and they have only to think to act rightly.
The popery of religion has in a great measure ceased, and
it is time that the popery of government ceased also.
Sherwin.
SECTION IV.
A MIXED GOVERNMENT.
A MIXED government is composed by the combination
of two or more of the simple forms of government above
described : and in whatever proportion each form enters
into the constitution of a government, in the same propor-
tion may both the advantages and evils, which we have
attributed to that form, be expected : that is, those are the
uses to be maintained and cultivated in each part of the
constitution, and these are the dangers to be provided
against in each. Thus, if secrecy and despatch be truly
enumerated amongst the separate excellencies of regal
government, then a mixed government, which retains
monarchy in one part of its constitution, should be careful
that the other estates of the empire do not, by an officious
and inquisitive interference with the executive functions,
which are, or ought to be, reserved to the administration
of the prince, interpose delays, or divulge what it is expe-
dient to conceal. On .the other hand, if profusion, exac-
A MIXED GOVERNMENT. 71
tion, military domination, and needless wars, be justly ac-
counted natural properties of monarchy, in its simple un-
qualified form ; then are these the objects to which, in a
mixed government, the aristocratic and popular parts of
the constitution ought to direct their vigilance ; the dan-
gers against which they should raise and fortify their bar-
riers ; these are departments of sovereignty, over which a
power of inspection and control ought to be deposited with
the people. The same observation may be repeated of all
the other advantages and inconveniences which have been
ascribed to the several simple forms of government ; and
affords a rule whereby to direct the construction, improve-
ments, and administration of mixed governments sub-
jected however to this remark, that a quality sometimes
results from the conjunction of the two simple forms of
government, which belongs not to the simple existence of
either : thus corruption, which has no place in an absolute
monarchy, and little in a pure republic, is sure to gain ad-
mission into a constitution which divides the supreme
power between an executive magistrate and a popular
council. Paley.
A mixed form of government would seem to be only a
method of mitigating the grosser part of the evils of des-
potism and aristocratical misrule. This it may do, and
nothing else. The question is one of the highest practical
importance, and one which every man should attentively
consider. The opinion of the people is the best rule of
right, taking the long run and the happiness of the people
as the only just object of regard. The people may, how-
ever, be in error ; what reasons have we for supposing
that the other depositaries of power will remedy those
errors, that they will always interpose their power at the
right time, and never exert it at the wrong ? Or why
should we expect that those powers, almost uniformly
exerted against the people, under one form, should be em-
ployed more uniformly for them under another ? If all the
tendencies of these other forms of power, by themselves,
be adverse to the interests of the people, why should
such principles of evil work advantages merely by being
partially restrained ? As far as power is limited by the
people, it is true that it is incapable of the amount of mis-
chief which might be calculated upon without that check ;
but why should the people erect a power to control the
72 A MIXED GOVERNMENT.
exercise of their own will, which, as far as it can be effec-
tive, will, from all we know of human nature and history,
be effective only for evil ? If the argument should turn
upon the superior promptitude and secrecy with which
affairs may be conducted by one or a few, in opposition to
a large assembly, let these or the other popular assump-
tions be granted, and inquire why all these endowments
should not be foAnd in a higher degree of perfection, in a
man or men chosen from the whole body of the people
specially to exercise these personal, but delegated powers ?
In all the points in which you are disposed to see advan-
tages resulting from what you call mixed forms, put the in-
quiry honestly whether all the branches might not be
better filled by an elective than an hereditary process ?
Talk of mixture in a constitution ! of what is this mix-
ture composed, but of one essentially useful ingredient,
and two essentially noxious ? What better reason, then,
can we give for keeping these noxious ingredients, than
that we are used to them ; and being used to them, could
not bear (for who could bear) to part with them ? The
greatest praise, then, that could be given to the noxious
ingredients would be, that they were wholly inoperative ;
and, above all, they ought not to possess that proportion
of force which should enable them to destroy, or mate-
rially to weaken, the efficiency of the only really useful
ingredient. It will never do to talk of balance; leave
that to Mother Goose and Mother Blackstone. Balance,
indeed ! A fine thing for politicians upon roses by whom,
on questions most wide in extent, and most high in im-
portance, to save the toil of thinking, an allusion or an
emblem is accepted as conclusive evidence, so as it has
been accepted by others. What mean ye by this your
balance ? Know ye not, that in a machine of any kind,
when forces balance each other, the machine is at a stand?
Well, and in the machine of government, is the perpetual
absence of all motion the thing which is wanted ? And
since you must have an emblem, since you can neither
talk, nor attempt to think, but in hieroglyphics know ye
not that, as in the case of the body natural, so in the case
of the body politic, when motion ceases, the body dies ?
So much for the balance ; now for the mixture, to which
such virtue is wont to be ascribed. Here is a form of
government, in which the power is divided among three
A MIXED GOVERNMENT. 73
interests the interest of the great body of the people,
that is of the many ; and two separate interests, the interest
of the one, and the interest of the few, both which are ad-
verse to it ; two separate and narrow interests, neither of
which is kept on foot, but at the expense, to the loss, and
by the sacrifice of the broader interest. This form of
government, you say, has its advantages. Its advantages ?
Compared with what ? Compared with those forms of
government, in which the people have no power at all, or
in which, if they have any, they have not so much ? O,
yes ; with any such form of government for an object of
comparison, its excellence is unquestionable. But, com-
pare it with a form of government in which the interest of
the people is the only interest that is looked to ; in which
neither a single man, with a separate and adverse interest
of his own, nor a knot of men with a separate and adverse
interest of their own, are to be found ; where no interest
is kept up at the expense, to the loss, or by the sacrifice,
of the universal interest to it, where is, then, the excellence
of this form of government ?
Nay, but (says somebody) in the form of government
in question, the supreme the universal power is a mix-
ture of the three powers corresponding to the three
interests ; the excellence produced by it is not in any one
of the three ingredients taken by itself : no, it is in the
mixture. Take away any one of the three masses of power,
the mixture is changed the excellence is diminished;
take away any two of them, there is mixture no longer,
and the excellence vanishes. Is this notion about mixture
good ? O, yes ; good enough, so long as the respective
natures of the several interests are kept out of sight. Look
at them, and then see whether it be possible, that, taking
the power of the people for the simple substance, any such
quality as excellence, in comparison with the excellence of
trie simple substance, can be produced by the adding to it
either or both of the two other powers, and thus making a
mixture.
Let us define the simple substance the real democracy,
to be that form of government in which the interest of the
whole people is the only interest provided for; and in
which the only power is a power having for its object the
support of that interest. If to this simple substance you
add a power employed in the support of an interest of one
74 A MIXED GOVERNMENT.
single person, and a power employed in the support of the
interest of a comparatively small knot of persons, in either
of these cases you have a mixture ; well, and compared
then with the simple substance, when and where can be
the advantage of this mixture ? What could man ever
find to say in behalf of monarchy, but that monarchy is
legitimacy ? or in behalf of aristocracy, but that property
is virtue ?
These are fair questions ; should any man feel disposed
to answer them, let his answers be so too ; and let them
not O ! let them not be either imprisonment or death.
Go to the flour-mill ; get a sack of flour, in which there
is flour, and nothing else j make bread of it thus you
have the simple substance. In making your bread, add
now to the flour some powder of chalk, with or without
some powder of burnt bones : in either case you have a
mixture. Well, in either case, so long as you do not add
to the flour too much of that which is not flour, your bread
may afford nourishment it may give support to the con-
stitution of your natural body. But, does your body de-
rive any nourishment, its constitution any support, or your
bread any thing that can be called by the name of excellence,
from either of these two ingredients ? Bentham,
The moving power in this species of government, is, of
necessity, corruption. However imperfect election and
representation may be in mixed governments, they still
give exercise to a greater portion of reason than is con-
venient to the hereditary part ; and therefore it becomes
necessary to buy the reason up. A mixed government is
an imperfect every-thing, cementing and soldering the dis-
cordant parts together by corruption, to act as a whole.
In a mixed government there is no responsibility : the
parts cover each other till responsibility is lost ; and the
corruption which moves the machine, contrives at the same
time its own escape. When it is laid down as a maxim,
that the King can do no wrong, it places him in a state of
similar security with that of idiots and persons insane,
and responsibility is out of the question with respect to
himself. It then descends upon the minister, who shelters
himself under a majority in parliament, which, by places,
pensions, and corruption, he can always command; and
that majority justifies itself by the same authority with
which it protects the minister. In this rotatory motion,
DESPOTISM. 75
responsibility is thrown off from the parts, and from the
whole.
When there is a part in a government which can do no
wrong, it implies that it does nothing, and is only the
machine of another power, by whose advice and direction
it acts. What is supposed to be the King, in mixed
governments, is the cabinet ; and as the cabinet is always
a part of the parliament, and the members justifying in
one character what they advise and act in another, a
mixed government becomes a continual enigma ; entailing
upon a country, by the quantity of corruption necessary
to solder the parts, the expense of supporting all the forms
of government at once, and finally resolving itself into a
government by committee, in which the advisers, the actors,
the approvers, the justifiers, the persons responsible, and
the persons not responsible, are the same persons.
By this pantomimical contrivance, and change of scene
and character, the parts help each other out in matters
which neither of them singly would assume to act. When
money is to be obtained, the mass of variety apparently
dissolves, and a profusion of parliamentary praises passes
between the parts. Each admires, with astonishment, the
wisdom, the liberality, the disinterestedness of the other ;
and all of them breathe a pitying sigh at the burdens of
the nation. Paine.
SECTION V.
DESPOTISM.
TYRANNY is distinguished into that of one person and
of many. A body invading the rights of other bodies, and
corrupting the laws, that it may exercise a despotism ap-
parently legal, is the latter tyranny.... Under which
tyranny would you choose to live ? Under none : but
had I the option, the tyranny of one person appears to me
less odious and dreadful than that of many. A despot
has always some intervals of good humour, which is never
known in an assembly of despots. If a tyrant has done
me an injury, there is his mistress, his confessor, or his
page, by means of whom I may appease him, and obtain
76 DESPOTISM.
redress. But a set of supercilious tyrants are inaccessible
to all applications. Under one despot, I need only stand
up against a wall when I see him coming- by, or prostrate
myself, or knock my head against the ground, according
to the custom of the country ; but under a body, perhaps,
of a hundred despots, I may be obliged to repeat this
ceremony a hundred times a-day. Another disagreeable
circumstance is, if my farm happens to be in the neigh-
bourhood of one of our great lords, it is unknown what
damages I am obliged to put up with ; and if I have a
law-suit with a relative of one of their high mightinesses,
it will infallibly go against me. I am very much afraid
that in this world things will come to such a pass, as to
have no other option than being either hammer or anvil.
Happy he who gets clear of this alternative ! Voltaire.
Every government, let its form be what it may, contains
within itself a principle common to all, which is, that of a
sovereign power, or a power over which there is no con-
trol, and which controls all others : and as it is impossible
to construct a form of government in which this power
does not exist, so there must of necessity be a place, if it
may be so called, for it to exist in.
In despotic monarchies, this power is lodged in a single
person or sovereign. His will is law, which he declares,
alters, or revokes, as he pleases, without being accountable
to any power for so doing. Therefore, the only modes of
redress in countries so governed, are by petition or insur-
rection. Paine.
A despotic government knows no principle but will.
Whatever the sovereign wills to do, the government ad-
mits him the inherent right, the uncontrolled power of
doing. He is restrained by no fixed rule of right and
wrong, for he makes the right and wrong himself, and as
he pleases. If he happens (for a miracle may happen) to
be a man of consummate wisdom, justice, and moderation,
of a mild and affectionate disposition, disposed to business,
and understanding and promoting the general good, all
the beneficial purposes of government will be answered
under his administration, and the people so governed may,
while this is the case, be prosperous and easy. But as
there can be no security that this disposition will last, and
this administration continue, and still less security that his
successor shall have the same qualities and pursue the
HEREDITARY SUCCESSION. 77
same measures, no people exercising their reason and un-
derstanding their rights, would, of their own choice, invest
any one man with such a power. Paine.
A considerable portion of personal freedom may be
enjoyed under a despotic government ; or, in other words,
a great part of human actions left uncontrolled ; but with
this an enlightened mind will never rest satisfied, because
it is at best but an indulgence flowing from motives of
policy, or the lenity of the prince, which may be at any
time withdrawn by the hand that bestowed it. Robert
Hall.
Absolute governments (though the disgrace of human
nature) have this advantage with them, that they are
simple. If the people suffer, they know the head from
which their suffering springs, know likewise the remedy,
and are not bewildered by a variety of causes arid cures.
Paine.
CHAPTER V.
HEREDITARY SUCCESSION.
THE whole system of social life is supported by con-
ferring various degrees of power upon individuals, for
mutual good. Men consider deeply, and weigh conse-
quences attentively, in all ordinary circumstances of giving
authority. In the supreme matters of government, where
they have the highest stake, they act and sometimes argue
as though it were best left to a lottery of a million of
blanks to one prize. Do men think in any other case than
that of the supreme magistrate or magistrates, to confer
power upon an hereditary succession, or choose families
for the depositaries of power, whose only claim may often
be an accident the accident of birth ? Do men select
trustees of any species, and grant an irrevocable right to
exercise their trust ; or, at least, a right which can only be
recalled by violence and the doubtful result of physical
contest ? If such institutions are good in one case, it is
difficult to perceive why they should not be so in cases
which only differ in degree. Birth may, in the workings
78 HEREDITARY SUCCESSION.
of events, produce a better a wiser a more just guardian
than could or would have been chosen. But do men, cal-
culating from the past for the future, in any other matter
than that of their supreme governors, trust to such a for-
tuitous occurrence ? Do they not say, and say truly, that
the probabilities are against the success of such a step,
when compared with the bestowment of the same portion
of power upon proved men, making it, at the same time,
revocable ? The contrast, then, to be made, is precisely
this, the intrusting with authority one man, or number
of men and their children, in a prescribed line of succession,
or clothing with power a number of men of formed cha-
racters, and who may readily be disrobed of it upon the
earliest indications of a will to abuse it. In other words,
a despotism, or hereditary aristocracy, against a represen-
tative assembly for that form of democracy is the only
one which can now be brought into question. Anon.
To the evil of Monarchy we have added that of Heredi-
tary Succession ; and as the first is a degradation and less-
ening of ourselves, so the second, claimed as a matter of
right, is an insult arid imposition on posterity. For all
men being originally equals, no one by birth could have a
right to set up his own family in perpetual preference to
all others for ever; and though himself might deserve
some decent degree of honours of his contemporaries, yet
his descendants might be far too unworthy to inherit them.
One of the strongest natural proofs of the folly of heredi-
tary right in kings is, that nature disapproves it, otherwise
she would not so frequently turn it into ridicule by giving
mankind an ass for a lion. Secondly, as no man at first
could possess any other public honours than were bestowed
upon him, so the givers of those honours could have no
right to give away the right of posterity. And though
they might say, " We choose you for our head," they
could not, without manifest injustice to their children, say,
" that your children, and your children's children, shall
reign over ours for ever;" because such an unwise, unjust,
unnatural compact might, perhaps, in the next succession,
put them under the government of a rogue or a fool.
Most wise men, in their private sentiments, have ever
treated hereditary right with contempt, yet it is one of
those evils which, when once established, is not easily re-
moved ; many submit from fear, others from superstition,
HEREDITARY SUCCESSION. 79
and the most powerful part shares with the king the plun-
der of the rest. Paine.
The most plausible plea which hath ever been offered in
favour of hereditary succession, is that it preserves a nation
from civil wars ; and were this true, it would be weighty ;
whereas, it is the most barefaced falsity ever imposed upon
mankind. The whole history of England disowns the
fact. Thirty kings and two minors have reigned in that
distracted kingdom since the Conquest, in which time
there have been (including the Revolution) no less than
eight civil wars and nineteen rebellions. Wherefore, in-
stead of making for peace, it makes against it, and destroys
the very foundation it seems to stand on. Idem.
We have heard The Rights of Man called a levelling
system : but the only system to which the word levelling
is truly applicable, is the hereditary monarchical system.
It is a system of mental levelling. It indiscriminately
admits every species of character to the same authority.
Vice and virtue, ignorance and wisdom, in short, every
quality, good or bad, is put on the same level. Kings
succeed each other, not as rationals, but as animals. It
signifies not what their mental or moral characters are.
Can we then be surprised at the abject state of the human
mind in monarchical countries, where the government itself
is formed on such an abject, levelling system ? It has no
fixed character. To-day it is one thing ; to-morrow it is
something else. It changes with the temper of every suc-
ceeding individual, and is subject to all the varieties of
each. It is government through the medium of passions
and accidents. It appears under all the various characters
of childhood, decrepitude, dotage, a thing at nurse, in lead-
ing-strings, or on crutches. It reverses the wholesome
order of nature. It occasionally puts children over men,
and the conceits of non-age over wisdom and experience.
In short, we cannot conceive a more ridiculous figure of
government, than hereditary succession, in all its cases,
presents.
Could it be made a decree in nature, or an edict regis-
tered in heaven, and man could know it, that virtue and
wisdom should invariably appertain to hereditary succes-
sion, the objections to it would be removed ; but when we
see that nature acts as if she disowned and sported with
the hereditary system that the mental characters of sue-
80 THE REPRESENTATIVE SYSTEM.
cessors, in all countries, are below the average of human
understanding that one is a tyrant, another an idiot, a
third insane, and some all three together, it is impossible
to attach confidence to it, when reason in man has power
to act. Idem.
But it is not so much the absurdity as the evil of heredi-
tary succession which concerns mankind. Did it ensure a
race of good and wise men, it would have the seal of divine
authority; but as it opens a door to the foolish, the wicked,
and the improper, it hath in it the nature of oppression.
Men who look upon themselves born to reign, and others
to obey, soon grow insolent ; selected from the rest of
mankind, their minds are easily poisoned by importance,
and the world they act in differs so materially from the
world at large, that they have but little opportunity of
knowing its true interests, and when they succeed to the
government, are frequently the most ignorant and unfit of
any throughout the dominions. Idem.
CHAPTER VI.
OF THE REPRESENTATIVE SYSTEM.
As in a country of liberty, every man who is supposed
a free agent, ought to be his own governor, the legislative
power should reside in the whole body of the people. But
since this is impossible in large states, and in small ones
is subject to many inconveniences, it is fit the people should
transact by their representatives, what they cannot transact
by themselves .... The great advantage of representa-
tives is, their capacity of discussing public affairs. For
this, the people collectively are extremely unfit, which is
one of the chief inconveniences of a democracy. Montes-
quieu.
81
SECTION I.
THE CONSTITUENT BODY.
1. Its Extent.
IN order that the universal interest may be advanced,
all particular interests must be comprehended and advanced,
except, that in any case it can be shown, that the advance-
ment of any particular interest would injure the advance-
ment of the universal interest ; and then this particular
interest must and ought to be excluded always keeping
steadily before us this principle that in no case should
any exclusion be made, unless the comfort and security of
the whole receives an absolute increase, as the result of the
exclusion of a few. If it be not indeed the same thing in
other words, virtual universality of suffrage and practical
equality of representation, are included in the above defini-
tion, as means for advancing the universal interest.
What I mean by virtual universality of suffrage, is
this : if the word universal, as applied to suffrage, were
used without any other word to limit its signification, it
would necessarily include the admission to the elective
franchise of many persons of various descriptions, none of
whom would be capable of exercising it to the advantage
either of others or of themselves. Idiots, and infants in
leading-strings, may serve for examples. By virtually
universal suffrage, then, what I mean is, that which will
remain of absolutely universal suffrage, when, from the
number of individuals designated by the word universal,
every deduction shall have been made, as, by specific con-
siderations, shall have been shown to be productive of
benefit; that benefit, at the same time, over-balancing every
inconvenience resulting from the limit thus applied.
If, in the instance of any one individual of the whole
body of the people, it be right that the power be possessed
and exercised of contributing to the choice of a person, by
whom, in the representative assembly, his interest shall be
advocated, how can it be otherwise than right in the in-
stance of any other such person ? In the impossibility of
finding an answer to this question, will be found contained
the substance of the argument in support of universal suf-
frage. If, in the instance of any one individual, it be right
VI. G
82 THE REPRESENTATIVE SYSTEM.
that he should possess a share, of a certain degree of mag-
nitude, in the choice of a person to form one in the body
of the representatives of the people, how can it be right
that, in the instance of any other individual, the share
should be either less or greater ? In this question is con-
tained the substance of the argument in support of prac-
tical equality of representation. Universality of suffrage has
for its limit the need of deduction for divers special rea-
sons. Equality of representation has for its limit the incon-
venience which in the shape of delay, vexation, and expense,
could not fail to be the result of any endeavour to give
existence to absolute equality. Bentham.
If the community is to hold an effectual check over
those who are to govern for it, the government, or at all
events some integral and indispensable branch of it, must
be committed to individuals chosen by the community at
large or by its subdivisions. The Whigs say not, and
that it should be committed to somebody else, meaning
themselves ; and on this they and the community are at
issue. And here rises to view the greatest political inven-
tion of the moderns ; which is the system of Representa-
tion. And the plain and simple rationale of the right of
Representation, unembarrassed with the consideration of
what it may be one dishonest man's interest to defend, or
another's to acquire, is, that all should be admitted equally,
and that when all are so admitted, and not before, each
man possesses the full enjoyment of all the influence his
wealth, talents, or reputation, can confer on him, without
infringing on the happiness of others. The principle of
this is as clear as that of the right of equal admission to
the market. The equality of admission does not make
men possess an equality of influence, when they are there.
On the contrary, it is precisely then that the rich man
has the just advantage of the influence, which there is no
intention to deny him. The fallacy is in stating, that the
rich cannot have their proper influence in the market,
unless the poor are kept out besides. Property should be
represented; but then it should be every body's property;
the fallacy is, that it should be only the property of those who
happen to have great deal. As in the common market,
so in the greater market of election. In such a contest of
interests, every man's influence would fetch exactly what
it was worth ; and the theory which claims for the rich
not only the influence of their riches, but the exclusion of
THE CONSTITUENT BODY. 83
the poor besides, is as visibly and demonstrably unjust, as
in the market case produced as parallel. This furnishes
the foundation of the right of Universal Suffrage ; a right
which no reasonable man that understands it will ever con-
sent to disavow, however remote the actual condition of
society may be from its practical enjoyment. To think
common sense at home, is a luxury that might have been
indulged in in Egypt ; even though all the surrounding
world worshipped a crocodile or a monkey. Closely con-
nected with the universality of suffrage, is the opportunity
of its frequent exercise. For the only practical way of
preserving a check over those appointed to the directorship
of the great Company, is to send them back to their con-
stituents frequently ; and the more frequent the reference,
the more perfect the check. And the period which would
occur to every man who had no sinister interests to pro-
mote, would be that it should be annual. The organ of
the Whigs once undertook to ask, why the period should
be precisely a year, and what virtue there was in a planet's
periodic time, that should connect it with a seat in parlia-
ment. To which the answer is by asking, why men do
other things yearly, and not, for instance, every eighteen
months. Why do men make up their accounts once
a-year, hold long vacations once a-year, keep their birth-
days once a-year, visit their friends once a-year, physic
and purge, eat mince-pies, issue Army-lists and the Red-
book, and take the sacrament by Act of Parliament, if it
is not that the necessary connection of the seasons with
many of the acts of man, makes it highly convenient for
him to bind up his other actions in the same routine, and
hence in all things that require regularity of performance,
his option is in reality to do them once a-year, or once in
two. But between these there is a gulf, which, passed,
leads easily to once in seven, or once in ten. The trades-
man who should defer making up his accounts to a second
year, would soon bring them to a conclusion in the Fleet ;
and if all the members of the community had as lively a
sense of their interests as the tenant of a chandler's shop,
they would be equally jealous of the laxity of delay. Sen-
sible men make their stand upon the right side of the
gulf, and fools upon the other.
On these two important points of universal suffrage and
its annual exercise, the objections oftenest urged relate to
G 2
84 THE REPRESENTATIVE SYSTEM.
some impracticability or difficulty to arise in the execution.
On which it may be answered, that if an intelligent com-
mittee were appointed, with instructions to devise the mode
in which the greatest obstacles should be thrown in the
way of the quiet exercise of the operation of appointing
representatives, it would clearly devise the actual one. In
the first place, it is plain, that it would advise the com-
pression of the power of choice into the hands of a few,
that there might be a physical possibility of the few being
bribed. Secondly : it would recommend the extension of
the period of service, in order that it might be better worth
while for the candidates to bribe, and that the electors
might be enabled to indulge in riot on an occasion that
occurs but seldom, in a way they could not do if it oc-
curred more frequently. Thirdly and lastly : it would
suggest that each man's way of voting should be pub-
lished, in order that the greatest possible scope might be
given to the operation of party feelings, and no man be
able to escape by holding his peace. This is what a sen-
sible committee would recommend; and, by consequence,
it is what sensible men on the other side would recommend
to be undone. It is evident at sight, that the difficulties
suggested are not only factitious and artificial, but require
great pains to secure and keep them in existence. It
would be as much easier to take men's votes annually than
septennially, as for a boy to comb his hair daily than once
a-week, if the management was in the hands of those
who had an interest in its success. And the votes of an
entire population might be taken with as much facility as
a census, if the way that leads to such a result was fol-
lowed, instead of the way that does not. When the lion
builds its own cage, interests hostile to the good of the
community will pare their own claws. But whether their
claws are pared or not, it is satisfactory to know what
arrangements are directed to the good of the community,
and what are curiously and scientifically adjusted to its
opposite.
The objection constantly made to universal suffrage is,
that it would produce universal hostility and anarchy.
This is at once denied ; it is denied that universal suffrage
would cause the smallest approach to these evils. It shall
be shown why not.
It is asked, hostility against what object, and under
THE CONSTITUENT BODY. 85
what provocation ? Alas ! in the present state of things,
provocation is but too abundant; in a reformed state of
things there would' be absolutely none. Instead of pro-
vocation, there would be its exact opposite. Instead of
old provocation, there would be fresh, and never-before-
experienced beneficence. Where should provocation find
its object ? Not surely in a branch of government, now
for the first time, at the instance of the people themselves,
repaired and improved for their benefit, and then placed
in their own hands. If there were mischievous activity,
on what occasion or in what shape should it exert itself?
What is the sort of power which the people would be
called upon to exercise ? Is it, as in legislation, direct,
imperative, and coercive power ? No : but a mere exer-
cise of the unimperative power of deputation, an exercise
performed under the veil of the most tranquil, and silent,
and absolutely impenetrable secrecy, performed by a mere
turn of the hand, and begun and ended in the same mo-
ment by each individual;* a power which is but the frac-
tion of a fraction, the power of making one of a vast mul-
titude [the whole number of the voters in each elective
district], a majority of which must join, ere they can seat
so much as one man in an assembly [namely, the House
of Commons], with whom another large majority must
join, and with that large majority, the majority of another
assembly [namely, the House of Lords], ere he can give
effect to any power by which command is issued, and obe-
dience produced.
But, suppose a considerable number of the people should
be inclined to effect mischief, what sort of prospect could
they entertain of effecting this purpose ? No individual
could expect to have the least part in it ; if the supposed
mischief were accomplished, it must be by the majority of
a set of persons [namely, the two Houses of Parliament]
all different from the electors, and the whole of this majo-
rity must consist of individuals bent upon the execution of
this same pernicious measure: and what could this majority
expect to gain by it ? No : when mischief has been aimed
at, and perpetrated by the passions of the multitude, it
has never been aimed at by any such deep-laid schemes as
* This assumes, as a necessary concomitant to universal suf-
frage, the use of the Ballot.
86 THE REPRESENTATIVE SYSTEM.
this. No : it is not in the dangerousness and mischievous-
ness, it is in the safety and beneficence of this and the
other principles of reform, that the opposition made by the
ruling few has its real ground. Not the want of pure and
instructive light in the political world, but the abundance
of it is the true object of their fears. If the increase of
light were any part of their object, it is no secret to them
how to compass it. In regard to intellectual talents, what
is the real, the everlasting fear ? Lest it be deficient ?
No : but lest it be abundant. Yes : by religion, to delude
the people with false and political lights ; in politics, to
keep them plunged in the thickest darkness ; such is the
policy of "great, characters" in their " higher situation;"
such 'is ever destined to be the policy of the ruling few,
when vouchsafing to determine the lot of tJie swinish mul-
titude.
The manner, too, if the instruction by which the exer-
cise of this right would be preceded in the reformed state
of things, compared with the present, is worth notice. It
would not be, as now, by loud and impassioned harangues;
nor by thronging, which, if not actually tumultuous, is
always pretended, and always wished to be so, by the in-
cessantly increasing tyranny. No : not by these means,
but by a course of writing, on the part of those to be
elected, and of reading on the part of the electors. Yes :
the pen is the true means for administering sound, dispas-
sionate, and indelusive information : the eye, in the still-
ness and leisure of the closet, applied to the silent paper,
is the true organ for the reception of the matchless blessing.
Lips on the one part, ears on the other part; these are
the so imperfectly adapted, the only original employable
organs ; fugitive, questionable, and delusive is the only
information capable of being communicated and received
by such organs the sole and imperfect resource of imma-
ture, unlettered, and unenlightened times. Sentham.
The people have no bias to be knaves. No ambition
prompts them ; no aspiring or unsociable passions incite
them ; they have no rivals for place, no competitor to pull
down ; they have no darling child, or pimp, or relations, to
raise; they have no occasion for dissimulation or intrigue;
they can serve no end by faction ; they have no interest
but the general interest. Gordon.
Should it be said, that he who has no substance has no
THE CONSTITUENT BODY. 87
right to vote on questions of public contribution, or public
expenditure ; I answer, that our first consideration is not
to vote taxes, but to elect persons. But suppose that this
was not the primary object, and that our attention was
occupied by the qualifications of legislators ; I admit, that
in England their chief business regards the ways and means
to supply the prodigalities of government. But this can
never happen in a well organized, economical state. Yet
still, adding another supposition, and considering, that not
to control, but to contribute, must be their chief employ-
ment, why should one of the smallest property, or of no
property, be excluded ? I speak not of beggars, for, as
Plato said on a similar occasion, our Commonwealth ad-
mits not of such outcasts. Want of property is an excel-
lent reason why individuals should not contribute, but
none why citizens should be disfranchised. This principle
directed the administration of the Athenians. Thus, they
who had only five minaa (fifteen pounds) paid nothing;
while they who had five hundred minae, were obliged to
keep horses, to exhibit choruses, to preside over the gym-
nasium, to guard the city, and, during war, to furnish gal-
leys, and to pay a considerable tribute. This policy
might well excite the triumph of their Orators. The
Athenians, says Isocrates, established by universal consent
a form of government, not only the most popular, but also
the most equitable ; for this democracy did not rashly con-
found all distinctions. They who framed it, thought that
the people as sovereign should appoint the magistrates,
punish delinquents, and have the appellant jurisdiction ;
that they who had leisure and property should administer
the revenues of the state, and that, as they executed their
charge justly or not, they should receive praise or punish-
ment.
Want of property is no proof of wanting industry, talents,
or virtue. Then, why should a deficiency of fortune an-
nihilate a man's political consequence ? If an individual
be without property, and not supported by public or pri-
vate benefactions, he must, unless a robber, be considered
industrious. But a man of property has no such assurance
in his favour. A poor man so circumstanced has therefore
a much better right to vote, than a rich man on the mere
account of contributing to the state. A labourer, accord-
ing to his means, contributes more by paying the duty on
88 THE REPRESENTATIVE SYSTEM.
salt or soap, than a nobleman by paying the taxes on car-
riages and servants. He does more, he not only exceeds
the grandee or the opulent commoner by his relative, but
by his positive contribution ; and to such extent, that the
labourer is for the most part the whole contributor, while
the principal proprietors do little more than hand over to
the state part of what they, luxurious and idle, have de-
rived from the thrift and activity of the industrious. Then
is it not most unjust to disfranchise this poor industrious
man, whose life is dedicated to the pleasures of the opulent,
and whose assiduity and exertions establish the strength
and adorn the magnificence of the state ? If a poor man
be prodigal, disgrace him, but do not consider that, be-
cause he is poor, he is reprobate. A large family, sick-
ness, blights, various casualties, oppress the best men.
Even their virtues may make them destitute. Are these
to be rejected as outcasts ? This is the height of cruelty ;
it is to treat wretchedness as a crime, and to add the
injustice of man to the unkindness of nature. Mably, in
his praise of the constitution of the Massachusetts, infers,
that by excluding from political rights all those who have
no property, industry will be encouraged. But I ask,
will any one be induced to accumulate wealth, ia order to
vote for a member to this or that assembly, who would not
otherwise endeavour to attain property for the comforts
and consequences which it imparts ? JSnsor.
2. Freedom of the Constituent Body.
Because elections ought to be free, the King com-
mandeth upon great forfeiture, that no man by force of
arms nor by malice, or menacing, shall disturb any to
make free election. 3 Edw. I. c. 5.
By declaration of Rights, " All elections of Members
of Parliaments ought to be free." I William and Mary,
Sess. 2. cap. 2.
" By the ancient common laws of the land, all elections
ought to be free," and forasmuch as the freedom of elec-
tions of Members to serve in Parliament is of the utmost
consequence to the preservation of the Rights and Liber-
ties of this Kingdom, an infringement of that freedom by
violence voids the election. 18 Geo. II. c. 30.
By a resolution of the House, passed at the commence-
THE REPRESENTATIVE BODY. 89
ment of every session, ' It is a high infringement of the
liberties and privileges of the Commons, for any Lord of
Parliament, or any Lord Lieutenant of any county, to
concern themselves in the election of Members of Par-
liament."
By another Resolution, 17, Journ. 507, " It is highly
criminal in any minister or servant under the Crown,
directly or indirectly to use the power of office in the
election of Representatives to serve in Parliament ; and
an attempt of such influence will at all times be resented
by this House, as aimed at its honour, dignity, and inde-
pendence, as an infringement of the dearest Rights of
every subject throughout the empire, and tending to sap
the basis of this free and happy Constitution."
To say that a suffrage ought to be free, what is it but to
say, that the will expressed by it ought to be the very will
of the person by whom it is so expressed the will of that
person, and of that person only his self-formed will the
product of his own judgment not produced by the belief
of the existence of any will or wish considered as enter-
tained by any other person, at whose hands the voter
entertains an eventual expectation of receiving good or
evil, in any shape : good or evil, according as the said
voter shall or shall not have conformed, in giving his vote,
to the wishes of this other person. According to this
explanation, if, in the instance of any voter, the vote which
is given is not free, it is manifestly not genuine it is
spurious : under the disguise of the expression of the
will of the voter, it is the will of some other person. In
so far as it is given as the will of the voter, it is an act of
imposture. Bentham.
SECTION II.
THE REPRESENTATIVE BODY.
1. Its requisite Qualities.
Representation may be considered complete when it
collects to a sufficient extent, and transmits with perfect
fidelity, the real sentiments of the people j but this it may
90 THE REPRESENTATIVE SYSTEM.
fail of accomplishing through various causes. If its elec-
tors are but a handful of people, and of a peculiar order
and description ; if its duration is sufficient to enable it to
imbibe the spirit of a corporation ; if its integrity be cor-
rupted by treasury influence, or warped by the prospect of
places or pensions ; it may, by these means, not only fail
of the end of its appointment, but fall into such an entire
dependence on the executive branch, as to become a most
dangerous instrument of arbitrary power. The usurpation
of the emperors at Rome would not have been safe, un-
less it had concealed itself behind the formalities of a senate.
Robert Hall.
The union between a representative and his constituents,,
ought to be strict and entire The [long] duration of a
parliament sets its members at a distance from the people,
begets a notion of independence, and gives the minister so
much leisure to insinuate himself into their graces, that
before the period is expired, they become very mild and
complying. Sir Robert Walpole used to say, that " every
man had his price ;" a maxim on which he relied with so
much security, that he declared he seldom troubled himself
with the election of members, but rather chose to stay and
buy them up when they came to the market. Idem.
The immediate cause of all the mischief of misrule is,
that the men acting as the representatives of the people
have a private and sinister interest, and sufficient power to
gratify that interest, producing a constant sacrifice of the
interest of the people. The secondary cause of the mis-
chief the cause of this immediate cause is this, that these
same agents are in one case unduly independent, in ano-
ther, unduly dependent. They are independent of their
principals the people ; and dependent upon the Conser-
vator-General, by whose corruptive influence the above-
mentioned sacrifice is produced. Bentham.
Receiving the wages of corruption by a representative,
is the mischief against which the unpermanence of his
seat is likely to act as a security. Now, any member of
the House of Representatives, who holds an office produc-
ing to him either money, or power, actually harbours in
his bosom a portion of the pestilential matter of corrup-
tion, and is under the dominion of its baneful influence.
Idem,
THE REPRESENTATIVE BODY. 91
2. Its Advantages.
An assembly chosen by the people will consist, for the
most part, of men of pre-eminent knowledge and talent; or
in other words, of men who surpass the bulk of the people
in the ability of discerning right from wrong, and making
each appear. They will be men educated on terms of
equality with others, contesting their opinions, and having
their own subjected to the most severe scrutiny, and there-
fore fitted, in the highest degree, to understand the maxims
and principles by which the nation, at that particular
period of its history, is influenced. No individual passion
can command the nation's resources to its gratification.
Neither revenge, nor lust, nor prejudice, the motives which
may, perhaps, sway the individuals composing the assem-
bly, can ever be expected simultaneously to urge that as-
sembly, in its corporate capacity, into untimely or ill-
considered actions. There is the best guarantee for the
reception of TRUTH, because discussion must be allowed,
and this is the best possible assurance of the detection of
the sophistry and intrigue of evil-intentioned men. If
irregular motives of action lead some into error, the same
class of motives will induce others to expose and rectify it.
There will be the highest security against violent and
mischievous changes, because the real inclinations of
those with whom the actual power rests, will always be
known. Ignorance of the popular mind has ever been at
the root of all revolutionary changes. In addition, such
an assembly is never of doubtful birth or inheritance
never engages in wars from relationship is never in a
state of infancy, nor sickness, nor dotage is never obsti-
nate, nor timid, nor jealous nor has it any of those de-
fects, moral or otherwise, to which may be ascribed the
greater part of all that men agree in calling misgovern-
inent. Above all, when any members of such an assembly
neglect the true end of their appointment, the public wel-
fare, the people have an easy and efficacious remedy, in the
quiet, yet irresistible exercise of their proper prerogatives.
Anon.
It is true, that the people in the mass are not always the
best judges of their own welfare. Though rarely so, they
have sometimes decided adversely to their real interests ;
but they have been uniformly right when left to themselves,
92 THE REPRESENTATIVE SYSTEM.
in selecting those who are most likely to decide the best
for them. The people, as a body, always must intend
their own happiness, but they are riot always in a situation
to see the farthest, prospectively or otherwise. They have,
however, a marvellous sagacity in discovering 1 who are the
worthiest trustees for managing- their affairs. So that, in
a body of men, chosen from the mass of the people, by
the people themselves, there will be an amount of intelli-
gence and aptness for government, very far exceeding the
average proportion of the bulk of the people, and there will
be a corresponding probability of wise and beneficial mea-
sures. If, indeed, it were otherwise, democracy would
still be the best chance for the people : because, in that
case, they have only ignorance to contend with ; in all
other forms they may have ignorance and bad intentions
too. Anon.
3. Its Power and Jurisdiction.
The power and jurisdiction of Parliament, says Sir
Edward Coke, is so transcendent and absolute, that it can-
not be confined, either for causes or persons, within any
bounds It hath sovereign and uncontrollable authority
in the making, confirming, enlarging, restraining, abrogat-
ing, repealing, reviving, and expounding of laws, concern-
ing matters of all possible denominations, ecclesiastical or
temporal, civil, military, maritime, or criminal : this being
the place where that absolute despotic power, which must
in all governments reside somewhere, is intrusted by the
constitution of these kingdoms. All mischiefs, any griev-
ances, operations, and remedies, that transcend the ordi-
nary course of the laws, are within the reach of this extra-
ordinary tribunal. It can regulate or new-model the
succession to the crown; as was done in the reign of
Henry VIII. and William III. It can alter the esta-
blished religion of the land; as was done in a variety of
instances, in the reigns of King Henry VIII. and his
three children. It can change and create afresh even the
constitution of the kingdom, and of parliaments them-
selves ; as was done by the act of union, and the several
statutes of triennial and septennial elections. It can, in
short, do every thing that is not naturally impossible ; and
therefore some have not scrupled to call its power, by a
THE REPRESENTATIVE BODY. 93
figure rather too bold, the omnipotence of Parliament.
True it is, that what the Parliament doth, no authority
upon earth can undo.* Blackstone.
When we say that the legislature is supreme, we mean,
that it is the highest power known to the constitution ;
that it is the highest in comparison with the other subordi-
nate powers established by the laws. In this sense, the
word supreme is relative, not absolute. The power of the
legislature is limited, not only by the general rules of na-
tural justice, and the welfare of the community, but by the
forms and principles of our particular constitution. If this
doctrine be not true, we must admit, that king, lords, and
commons, have no rule to direct their resolutions, but
merely their own will and pleasure. They might unite the
legislative and executive power in the same hands, and
dissolve the constitution by an act of parliament. Juniiis.
A government, on the principles on which constitutional
governments, arising out of society, are established, cannot
have the right of altering itself. If it had, it would be
arbitrary. It might make itself what it pleased; and
wherever such a right is set up, it shows there is no con-
stitution. The act by which the English Parliament em-
powered itself to sit for seven years, shows there is no
constitution in England. It might, by the same self-
authority, have sat any greater number of years, or for
life. The bill which Mr. Pitt brought into parliament, to
reform parliament, was on the same erroneous principle.
The right of reform is in the nation, in its original charac-
ter ; and the constitutional method would be, by a general
convention, elected for the purpose. There is, moreover,
a paradox in the idea of vitiated bodies reforming them-
selves. Paine.
* Many of the positions in this article, are successfully con-
troverted in those that follow.
94
CHAPTER VII.
THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.*
SECTION I.
ITS CONSTITUENT CHARACTER.
Is our constitution a good one ? It will gain in our
esteem by the severest inquiry. Is it bad ? Then its im-
perfections should be laid open and exposed. Is it, as is
generally confessed, of a mixed nature, excellent in theory,
but defective in its practice ? Freedom of discussion will
be still requisite to point out the nature and source of its
corruptions, and apply suitable remedies. If our constitu-
tion be that perfect model of excellence it is represented,
it may boldly appeal to the reason of an enlightened age,
and need not rest on the report of an implicit faith.
Robert Hall.
Most of those who treat of the British constitution,
consider it as a scheme of government formally planned
and contrived by our ancestors, in some certain era of
our national history, and as set up in pursuance of
such regular plan and design. Something of this sort is
secretly supposed, or referred to, in the expressions of
those who speak of the " principles of the constitution,"
of bringing back the constitution to its " first principles,"
of restoring it to its " original purity," or " primitive
model." Now, this appears to me an erroneous conception
of the subject. No such plan was ever formed, conse-
quently no such first principles, original model, or stan-
dard, exist : I mean, there never was a date or point of
time in our history, when the government of England was
to be set up anew, and when it was referred to any single
person, or assembly, or committee, to frame a charter for
* It is obvious that in a work like the present, an outline of
the leading features of the English Constitution, is all that
could be attempted. I have some idea of publishing a separ-
ate work on the British Constitution, which will embrace a
view of the whole theory of the British Polity.
THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION. 95
the future government of the country; or when a constitu-
tion so prepared and digested, was, by common consent,
received and established. In the time of the civil wars, or
rather between the death of Charles the First and the re-
storation of his son, many such projects were published,
but none were carried into execution. The Great Char-
ter, and the Bill of Rights, were wise and strenuous efforts
to obtain security against certain abuses of regal power,
by \vhich the subject had been formerly aggrieved : but
these were, either of them, much too partial modifications
of the constitution, to give it a new original. The con-
stitution of England, like that of most countries of Europe,
hath grown out of occasion and emergency ; from the
tiuctuating policy of different ages ; from the contentions,
successes, interests, and opportunities, of different orders
and parties of men in the community. It resembles one
of those old mansions, which, instead of being built all at
once, after a regular plan, and according to the rules of
architecture, at present established, has been reared in dif-
ferent ages of the art, has been altered from time to time ;
and has been continually receiving additions and repairs
suited to the taste, fortune, or conveniency, of its succes-
sive proprietors. In such a building, we look in vain for
the elegance and proportion, for the just order and corres-
pondence of parts, which we expect in a modern edifice ;
and which external symmetry, after all, contributes much
more, perhaps, to the amusement of the beholder, than the
accommodation of the inhabitant.
In the British, and possibly in all other constitutions,
there exists a wide difference between the actual state of
the government and the theory. The one results from the
other : bnt still they are different. When we contemplate
the theory of the British government, we see the king in-
vested with the most absolute personal impunity; with a
power of rejecting laws, which have been resolved upon by
both houses of parliament ; of conferring by his charter,
upon any set or succession of men he pleases, the privi-
lege of sending representatives into one house of parlia-
ment, as by his immediate appointment he can place
whom he will in the other. What is this, a foreigner
might ask, but a more circuitous despotism ? Yet, when we
turn our attention from the legal extent to the actual exer-
cise of royal authority in England, we see these formid-
96 THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.
able prerogatives dwindled into mere ceremonies; and, in
their stead, a sure and commanding influence, of which
the constitution, it seems, is totally ignorant, growing out
of that enormous patronage which the increased territory
and opulence of the empire have placed in the disposal of
the executive magistrate. Paley.
As with us, the executive power of the laws is lodged in
a single person, they have all the advantages of strength
and despatch, that are to be found in the most absolute
monarchy; and as the legislature of the kingdom is in-
trusted to three distinct powers, entirely independent of
each other; first, the king; secondly, the lords spiritual
and temporal, which is an aristocratical assembly of per-
sons selected for their piety, their birth, their wisdom, their
valour, or their property ; and, thirdly, the House of Com-
mons, freely chosen by the people among themselves,
which makes it a kind of democracy; as this aggregate
body, actuated by different springs, and attentive to dif-
ferent interests, compose the British Parliament, and have
the supreme disposal of every thing; there can no incon-
venience be attempted by either of the three branches, but
will be withstood by one of the other two ; each branch
being armed with a negative power sufficient to repel any
innovation which it shall think inexpedient or dangerous.
Blackstone.
The constitutional government of this island is so ad-
mirably tempered and compounded, that nothing can
endanger or hurt it, but destroying the equilibrium of power
between one branch of the legislature and the rest. For
if ever it should happen that the independence of any one
of the three should be lost, or that it should become sub-
servient to the views of either of the other two, there
would soon be an end of our constitution. Idem.
The theory of the English constitution presents three
independent powers ; the king as executive head, with a
negative in the legislature ; an hereditary House of Peers;
and an assembly of Commons, who are appointed to repre-
sent the nation at large. From this enumeration it is
plain, that the people of England can have no liberty, that
is, no share in forming the laws, but what they exert
through the medium of the last of those bodies ; nor then,
but in proportion to its independence of the others. The
independence, therefore, of the House of Commons, is the
ITS CONSTITUENT CHARACTER. 97
column on which the whole fabric of our liberty rests.
Robert Hall.
The government of England, which has been sometimes
called a mixed government, sometimes a limited monarchy,
is formed by a combination of the three regular species of
government: the monarchy residing in the King; the
aristocracy in the House of Lords ; and the republic being
represented by the House of Commons. The perfection
intended by such a scheme of government is, to unite the
advantages of the several simple forms, and to exclude the
inconveniences. To what degree this purpose is attained
or attainable in the British constitution ; wherein it is lost
sight of or neglected ; and by what means it may in any
part be promoted with better success, the reader will be
enabled to judge, by a separate recollection of these ad-
vantages and inconveniences, as enumerated in the preced-
ing chapter, and a distinct application of each to the poli-
tical condition of this country. We will present our re-
marks upon the subject in a brief account of the expedients
by which the British constitution provides,
1st. For the interests of its subjects.
2dly. For its own preservation.
The contrivances for the first of these purposes, are the
following :
In order to promote the establishment of salutary public
laws, every citizen of the state is capable of becoming a
member of the senate : and erery senator possesses the
right of propounding to the deliberation of the legislature
whatever law he pleases.
Every district of the empire enjoys the privilege of
choosing representatives, informed of the interests, and cir-
cumstances, and desires of their constituents, and entitled
by their situation to communicate that information to the
national council. The meanest subject has some one
whom he can call upon to bring forward his complaints
and requests to public attention.
By annexing the right of voting for members of the
House of Commons to different qualifications in different
place*, each order and profession of men in the commu-
nity become virtually represented ; that is, men of all
orders and professions, statesmen, courtiers, country gen-
tlemen, lawyers, merchants, manufacturers, soldiers, sailors,
interested in the prosperity, and experienced in the occu-
VII. H
98 THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.
pation, of their respective professions, obtain seats in par-
liament.
The elections, at the same time, are so connected with
the influence of landed property, as to afford a certainty
that a considerable number of men of great estates will be
returned to parliament ; and are also so modified, that men
the most eminent and successful in their respective pro-
fessions, are the most likely, by their riches, or the weight
of their stations, to prevail in these competitions.
The number, fortune, and quality of the members; the
variety of interests and characters amongst them ; above
all, the temporary duration of their power, and the change
of men which every new election produces ; are so many
securities to the public, as well against the subjection of
their judgments to any external dictation, as against the
formation of a junto in their own body sufficiently power-
ful to govern their decisions.*
The representatives are so intermixed with the consti-
tuents, and the constituents with the rest of the people,
that they cannot, without a partiality too flagrant to be
endured, impose any burden upon the subject, in which
they do not share themselves ; nor scarcely can they adopt
an advantageous regulation, in which their own interests
will not participate of the advantage.*
The proceedings and debates of parliament, and the
parliamentary conduct of each representative, are known
by the people at large.
The representative is so far dependent upon the consti-
tuent, and political importance upon public favour, that a
member of parliament cannot more effectually recommend
himself to eminence and advancement in the state, than by
contriving and patronising laws of public utility.
When intelligence of the condition, wants, and occa-
sions, of the people, is thus collected from every quarter ;
when such a variety of invention, and so many understand-
ings, are set at work upon the subject; it may be pre-
sumed, that the most eligible expedient, remedy, or im-
provement, will occur to some one or other : and when a
wise counsel, or beneficial regulation, is once suggested,
it may be expected, from the disposition of an assembly so
* So says Paley j how far the facts of the case bear him out,
all men know. The same may be said of much that follows, but
we shall expose his sophistry after laying it before our readers.
ITS CONSTITUENT CHARACTER. 99
constituted as the British House of Commons is, that it
cannot fail of receiving the approbation of a majority.
To prevent those destructive contentions for the su-
preme power, which are sure to take place where the
members of the state do not live under an acknowledged
head, and a known rule of succession ; to preserve the
people in tranquillity at home, by a speedy and vigorous
execution of the laws ; to protect their interest abroad, by
strength and energy in military operations, by those ad-
vantages of decision, secrecy, and despatch, which belong
to the resolutions of monarchical councils ; for these pur-
poses, the constitution has committed the executive govern-
ment to the administration and limited authority of an
hereditary king.
In the defence of the empire ; in the maintenance of its
power, dignity, and privileges, with foreign nations; in
the advancement of its trade by treaties and conventions ;
and in the providing for the general administration of
municipal justice, by a proper choice and appointment of
magistrates; the inclination of the king and of the people
usually coincides; in this part, therefore, of the regal
office, the constitution intrusts the prerogative with ample
powers.
The dangers principally to be apprehended from regal
government, relate to the two articles taxation and punish-
ment. In every form of government, from which the
people are excluded, it is the interest of the governors to
get as much, and of the governed to give as little, as they
can : the power also of punishment, in the hands of an
arbitrary prince, oftentimes becomes an engine of extor-
tion, jealously, and revenge. Wisely, therefore, hath the
British constitution guarded the safety of the people, in
these two points, by the most studious precautions.
Upon that of taxation, every law which, by the remotest
construction, may be deemed to levy money upon the pro-
perty of the subject, must originate, that is, must first be
proposed and assented to, in the House of Commons; by
which regulation, accompanying the weight which that
assembly possesses in all its functions, the levying of taxes
is almost exclusively reserved to the popular part of the
constitution, who, it is presumed, will not tax themselves,
nor their fellow-subjects, without being first convinced of
the necessity of the aids which they grant.
H 2
100 THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.
The application also of the public supplies is watched
with the same circumspection as the assessment. Many
taxes are annual ; the produce of others is mortgaged, or
appropriated to specific services : the expenditure of all of
them is accounted for in House of Commons ; as com-
putations of the charge of the purpose for which they are
wanted, are previously submitted to the same tribunal.
j In the infliction of punishment, the power of the crown,
j and the magistrate appointed by the crown, is confined by
the most precise limitations : the guilt of the offender must
be pronounced by twelve men of his own order, indif-
ferently chosen out of the county where the offence was
committed: the punishment, or the limits to which the
punishment may be extended, are ascertained, and affixed
to the crime, by laws which know not the person of the
criminal.
And whereas arbitrary or clandestine confinement is the
injury most to be dreaded from the strong hand of the
executive government, because it deprives the prisoner at
once of protection and defence, and delivers him into the
power, and to the malicious or interested designs, of his
enemies ; the constitution has provided against this danger
with double solicitude. The ancient writ of habeas cor-
pus, the habeas corpus act of Charles the Second, and the
practice and determinations of our sovereign courts of
justice founded upon these laws, afford a complete remedy
for every conceivable case of illegal imprisonment.*
* Upon complaint in writing by, or on behalf of, any per-
son in confinement, to any of the four courts of Westminster
Hall, in term-time, or the lord chancellor, or one of the judges,
in the vacation ; and upon a probable reason being suggested to
question the legality of the detention ; a writ is issued to the
person in whose custody the complainant is alleged to be, com-
manding him within a certain limited and short time to produce
the body of the prisoner, and the authority under which he is
detained. Upon the return of the writ, strict and instantaneous
obedience to which is enforced by very severe penalties, if no
lawful cause of imprisonment appear, the court or judge, before
whom the prisoner is brought, is authorized and bound to dis-
charge him ; even though he may have been committed by a
secretary, or other high officer of state, by the privy council, or
by the king in person : so that no subject of this realm can be
held in confinement by any power, or under any pretence what-
ever, provided lie can find means to convey his complaint to one
ITS CONSTITUENT CHARACTER. 101
Treason being that charge, under colour of which the
destruction of an obnoxious individual is often sought;
and government being at all times more immediately a
party in the prosecution ; the law, beside the general care
with which it watches over the safety of the accused, in
this case, sensible of the unequal contest in which the sub-
ject is engaged, has assisted his defence with extraordinary
indulgences. By two statutes, enacted since the revolu-
tion, every person indicted for high treason shall have a
copy of his indictment, a list of the witnesses to be pro-
duced, and of the jury empannelled, delivered to him ten
days before the trial ; he is also permitted to make his
defence by counsel : privileges w r hich are not allowed to
the prisoner, in a trial for any other crime : and, what is
of more importance to the party than all the rest, the tes-
timony of two witnesses, at the least, is required to con-
vict a person of treason ; whereas, one positive witness is
sufficient in almost every other species of accusation.
We proceed, in the second place, to inquire in what
manner the constitution has provided for its own preser-
vation ; that is, in what manner each part of the legisla-
ture is secured in the exercise of the powers assigned to
it, from the encroachments of the other parts. This secu-
rity is sometimes called the balance of the constitution: and
the political equilibrium, which this phrase denotes, con-
sists in two contrivances; a balance of power, and a
balance of interest. By a balance of power is meant, that
there is no power possessed by one part of the legislature,
the abuse or excess of which is not checked by some anta-
gonist power, residing in another part. Thus the power
of the two houses of parliament to frame laws, is checked
by the king's negative : that, if laws subversive of regal
government should obtain the consent of parliament, the
reigning prince, by interposing his prerogative, may save
the necessary rights and authority of his station. On the
other hand, the arbitrary application of this negative is
checked by the privilege which parliament possesses, of
of the four courts of Westminster Hall, or during their recess,
to any one of the judges of the same, unless all these several
tribunals agree in determining his imprisonment to be legal.
He may make application to them, in succession; and if one
out of the number be found, who thinks the prisoner entitled to
his liberty, that, one possesses authority to restore it to him.
102 THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.
refusing supplies of money to the exigencies of the king's
administration. The constitutional maxim, " that the
king can do no wrong," is balanced by another maxim,
not less constitutional, " that the illegal commands of the
king do not justify those who assist, or concur, in carrying
them into execution j" and by a second rule, subsidiary to
this, " that the acts of the ciown acquire not a legal force,
until authenticated by the subscription of some of its great
officers." The wisdom of this contrivance is worthy of
observation. As the king could not be punished, without
a civil war, the constitution exempts his person from trial
or account; but, lest this impunity should encourage a
licentious exercise of dominion, various obstacles are
opposed to the private will of the sovereign, when directed
to illegal objects. The pleasure of the crown must be
announced with certain solemnities, and attested by cer-
tain officers of state. In some cases, the royal order must
be signified by a secretary of state ; in others it must pass
under the privy seal : and, in many, under the great seal.
And when the king's command is regularly published, no
mischief can be achieved by it, without the ministry and
compliance of those to whom it is directed. Now all who
either concur in an illegal order by authenticating its pub-
lication w r ith their seal or subscription, or who in any
manner assist in carrying it into execution, subject them-
selves to prosecution and punishment, for the part they
have taken ; and are not permitted to plead or produce
the command of the king in justification of their obedi-
ence.* But farther: the power of the crown to direct the
military force of the kingdom, is balanced by the annual
* Amongst the checks which parliament holds over the admi -
nistration of public affairs, I forbear to mention the practice of
addressing the king, to know by whose advice he resolved upon
a particular measure, and of punishing the authors of that advice,
for the counsel they had given. Not because I think this me-
thod either unconstitutional orimproper ; but for this reason :
that it does not so much subject the king to the control of par-
liament, as it supposes him to be already in subjection. For if
the king were so far out of the reach of the resentment of the
House of Commons, as to be able with safety to refuse the in-
formation requested, or to take upon himself the responsibility
inquired after, there must be an end of all proceedings founded
inthis mode of application.
ITS CONSTITUENT CHARACTER. 103
necessity of resorting to parliament for the maintenance
and government of that force. The power of the king i o
declare war, is checked by the privilege of the House of
Commons, to grant er withhold the supplies by which the
war must be carried on. The king's choice of his minis-
ters is controlled by the obligation he is under of appoint-
ing those men to offices in the state, who are found capa-
ble of managing the affairs of his government, with tfce
two houses of parliament. Which consideration imposes
such a necessity upon the crown, as hath in a great mea-
sure subdued the influence of favouritism ; insomuch, that
it is become no uncommon spectacle in this country, to
see men promoted by the king to the highest offices and
richest preferments which he has in his power to bestow,
who have been distinguished by their opposition to his
personal inclinations.
By the balance of interest which accompanies and gives
efficacy to the balance of power, is meant this ; that the
respective interests of the three estates of the empire are
so disposed and adjusted, that whichever of the three shall
attempt any encroachment, the other two will unite in
resisting it. If the king should endeavour to extend his
authority, by contracting the power and privileges of the
Commons, the House of Lords would see their own dig-
nity endangered by every advance which the crown made
to independency upon the resolutions of parliament. The
admission of arbitrary power is no less formidable to the
grandeur of the aristocracy, than it is fatal to the liberty
of the republic ; that is, it would reduce the nobility from
the hereditary share they possess in the national councils,
in which their real greatness consists, to the being made
a part of the empty pageantry of a despotic court. On
the other hand, if the House of Commons should intrench
upon the distinct province, or usurp the established prero-
gative of the crown, the House of Lords would receive an
instant alarm from every new stretch of popular power.
In every contest in which the king may be engaged with
the representative body, in defence of his established share
of authority, he will find a sure ally in the collective power
of the nobility. An attachment to the monarchy, from
which they derive their own distinction ; the allurements
of a court, in the habits and with the sentiments of which
they have been brought up ; their hatred of equality and of
all levelling pretensions, which may ultimately affect the
104 THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.
privileges, or even the existence of their order ; in short,
every principle and every prejudice which are wont to
actuate human conduct, will determine their choice to the
side and support of the crown. Lastly, if the nobles them-
selves should attempt to revive the superiorities which
their ancestors exercised under the feudal constitution,
the king and the people would alike remember, how the
one had been insulted, and the other enslaved, by that
barbarous tyranny. They would forget the natural op-
position of their views and inclinations, when they saw
themselves threatened with the return of a domination
which was odious and intolerable to both.
The reader win have observed, that in describing the
British constitution, little notice has been taken of the
House of Lords. The proper use and design of this part
of the constitution, are the following : First, to enable
the king, by his right of bestowing the peerage, to reward
the servants of the public, in a manner most grateful to
them, and at a small expense to the nation : secondly, to
fortify the power and secure the stability of regal govern-
ment, by an order of men naturally allied to its interests :
and, thirdly, to answer a purpose, which, though of supe-
rior importance to the other two, does riot occur so readily
to our observation ; namely, to stem the progress of popu-
lar fury. Large bodies of men are subject to sudden fren-
zies. Opinions are sometimes circulated amongst a multi-
tude without proof or examination, acquiring confidence
and reputation merely by being repeated from one to ano-
ther ; and passions founded upon these opinions, diffusing
themselves with a rapidity which can neither be accounted
for nor resisted, may agitate a country with the most vio-
lent commotions. Now, the only way to stop the fermen-
tation, is to divide the mass ; that is, to erect different
orders in the community, with separate prejudices and in-
terests. And this may occasionally become the use of an
hereditary nobility, invested with a share of legislation.
Averse to those prejudices which actuate the minds of the
vulgar ; accustomed to condemn the clamour of the popu-
lace; disdaining to receive laws and opinions from their
inferiors in rank ; they will oppose resolutions which are
founded in the folly and violence of the lower part of the
community. Were the voice of the people always dic-
tated by reflection ; did every man, or even one man in a
hundred, think for himself, or actually consider the mea-
ITS CONSTITUENT CHARACTER. 105
sure he was about to approve or censure ; or eveH were
the common people tolerably steadfast in the judgment
which they formed, I should hold the interference of a
superior order not only superfluous, but wrong : for when
every thing is allowed to difference of rank and education,
which the actual state of these advantages deserves, that,
after all, is most likely to be right and expedient, which
appears to be so to the separate judgment and decision
of a great majority of the nation ; at least, that, in general,
is right^r them, which is agreeable to their fixed opinions
and desires. But when we observe what is urged as the
public opinion, to be, in truth, the opinion only, or perhaps
the feigned profession, of a few crafty leaders ; that the
numbers who join in the cry, serve only to swell and mul-
tiply the sound, without any accession of judgment, or
exercise of understanding ; and that oftentimes the wisest
counsels have been thus overborne by tumult and uproar ;
we may conceive occasions to arise, in which the com-
monwealth may be saved by the reluctance of the nobility
to adopt the caprices, or to yield to the vehemence, of the
common people. In expecting this advantage from an
order of nobles, we do not suppose the nobility to be more
unprejudiced than others ; we only suppose that their pre-
judices will be different from, and may occasionally coun-
teract, those of others. Paley.
The theory of the constitution in the most important
particulars is a satire on the practice. The theory provides
the responsibility of ministers as a check to the execution
of ill designs ; but in reality we behold the basest of the
tribe retreat from the ruin of their country, loaded with
honours and with spoils. Theory tells us the parliament
is free and independent ; experience will correct the mis-
take by showing its subservience to the crown. We learn,
from the first, that the legislature is chosen by the un-
biassed voice of all who can be supposed to have a will of
their own ; we learn, from the last, the pretended electors
are but a handful of the people, who are never less at their
own disposal than in the business of election. The theory
holds out equal benefits to all, and equal liberty, without
any other distinction than that of a good or bad subject :
its practice brands with proscription and disgrace a numer-
ous class of inhabitants, on account of their religion. In
theory, the several orders of the state are a check on each
106 THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.
other; but corruption has oiled the wheels of that ma-
chinery, harmonized its motions, and enabled it to bear,
with united pressure, on the happiness of the people.
Robert Hall.
As it is the interest, so it is, and has been, and always
will be, the study and endeavour of the monarch to draw
to himself the greatest quantity possible of those good
things of this wicked world money, power, and factitious
dignity. And here we have one partial, one separate, one
sinister interest, the monarchical ; the interest of the ruling
one, with which the universal and democratical interest has
to contend, and to which that all-comprehensive interest
has all along been made,and unless the only possible remedy,
a radical parliamentary reform, should be applied, is des-
tined for ever to be made a sacrifice. A sacrifice ? Yes :
and by the blessing of God upon the legitimate labours of
his vicegerent, and the express image of his person here
upon earth, a still unresisting sacrifice. Omnipresence,
immortality, incapability of sin ; equal as he is to God, as
touching all these attributes (ask Blackstone else, i. 270,
250, 246, 249), who is there that, without adding impiety
to disloyalty, can repine at seeing included in the sacrifice,
any, or every thing, he might otherwise call his own ?
Meantime, the money, which, in an endless and bound-
less stream is thus to keep flowing into the monarchical
coffers cannot find its way into those sacred receptacles
without instruments and conduit-pipes. Out of the pock-
ets of the people it cannot be drawn, but through the
forms of Parliament nor, therefore, without the concur-
rence of the richest men in the country, in the situation of
Peers, great land-holding, and, as yet, incorporated Com-
moners, styled country gentlemen, and others. In those
men is the chief property of the country, and with it (for
in the language of the Aristocratical school, property and
virtue are synonymous terms) the virtue of the country.
And here we have another partial, separate, and sinister
interest the Aristocratical interest with which the demo-
cratical interest has also to contend, another overbearing
and essentially and inscrutably hostile interest against
which, and under which, the universal interest has to
struggle, and as far as possible to defend itself.
Such is the state in which the country lies : the uni-
versal interest crouching under the conjunct yoke of two
ITS CONSTITUENT CHARACTER. 107
partial and adverse interests, to which, to a greater or less
extent, it ever has been made and to the greatest extent
possible cannot ever cease to be made a continual sacri-
fice. Bentham.
Without any outward and visible change being made in
the forms of the constitution, but solely by the means of
the ever-increasing mass of corruptive influence in the
hands of the crown, the two separate, partial, and sinister
interests, viz. the monarchical and the aristocratical,
have obtained over the democratical interest (which is no
other than the universal interest) an ascendancy so com-
plete, that, under the outside show of a mixed and limited
monarchy, a monarchy virtually and substantially absolute
is the result. Idem.
Many things in the English Government appear to me
the reverse of what they ought to be, and the reverse of
what they are said to be. The Parliament, imperfectly
and capriciously elected as it is, is nevertheless supposed
to hold the national purse in trust for the Nation : but in
the manner in which an English Parliament is constructed,
it is like a man being both mortgager and mortgagee ; and
in the case of misapplication of trust, it is the criminal
sitting in judgment upon himself. If those who vote the
supplies are the same persons who receive the supplies
w r hen voted, and are to account for the expenditure of
those supplies to those who voted them, it is themselves
accountable to themselves, and the Comedy of Errors con-
cludes with the Pantomime of Hush. Neither the minis-
terial party, nor the opposition, will touch upon this case.
The national purse is the common hack which each mounts
upon. It is like what the country people call, " Ride and
tie you ride a little way, and then I." Paine.
The constitution of England is so exceedingly com-
plex, that the nation may suffer for years together without
being able to discover in which part the fault lies ; some
will say in one, and some in another, and every poli-
tical physician will advise a different medicine. If we
suffer ourselves to examine the component parts of the
English Constitution, we shall find them to be the base
remains of two ancient tyrannies, compounded with some
new republican materials. First. The remains of Mon-
archical Tyranny in the person of the King. Secondly.
The remains of Aristocratical Tyranny in the persons of
108 THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.
the Peers. Thirdly. The new Republican Materials in
the persons of the Commons, on whose virtue depends the
freedom of England. The first two being hereditary, are
independent of the people ; wherefore, in a constitutional
sense, they contribute nothing towards the freedom of the
state. To say that the Constitution of England is a union
of three powers, reciprocally checking each other, is far-
cical ; either the words have no meaning, or they are flat
contradictions. To say that the Commons are a check
upon the King, presupposes two things : First. That the
King is not to be trusted without being looked after, or,
in other words, that a thirst for absolute power is the natu-
ral disease of monarchy. Secondly. That the Commons,
by being appointed for that purpose, are either wiser or
more worthy of confidence than the Crown. But as the
same Constitution which gives the Commons power to
check the King, by withholding his supplies, gives after-
wards the King a power to check the Commons by em-
powering him to reject their other bills, it aga : n supposes
that the King is wiser than those whom it has already
supposed to be wiser than him. A mere absurdity ! Idem.
Some writers have explained the English constitution
thus : the King, they say, is one, the People another : the
Peers are a House in behalf of the King, the Commons in
behalf of the People ; but this hath all the distinctions of
a house divided against itself; and though the expressions
be pleasantly arranged, yet, when examined, they appear
idle and ambiguous ; and it always happens, that the nicest
construction that words are capable of, when applied to
the description of something which either cannot exist, or
is too incomprehensible to be within the compass of de-
scription, will be words of sound only, and though they
may amuse the ear, they cannot inform the mind ; for this
explanation includes a previous question, viz. " How came
the King by a power which the people are afraid to trust,
and always obliged to check ?" Such a power could not
be the gift of a wise people, neither can any power which
needs checking be from God ; yet the provision which the
Constitution makes, supposes such a power to exist.
But the provision is unequal to the task; the means
either cannot or will not accomplish the end, and the whole
affair is a felo de se ; for as the greater weight will always
carry up the less, and as all the wheels of a machine are
ITS CONSTITUENT CHARACTER. 109
put in motion by one, it only remains to know which power
in the Constitution has the most weight, for that will govern ;
and though the others, or a part of them, may clog, or, as
the phrase is, check the rapidity of its motion, yet so long
as they cannot stop it, their endeavours will be ineffectual.
The first moving power will at last have its way; and
what it wants in speed, is supplied by time. Idem.
The nearer any Government approaches to a republic,
the less business there is for a king. It is somewhat diffi-
cult to find a proper name for the Government of England.
Sir William Meredith calls it a republic ; but in its present
state it is unworthy of the name, because the corrupt in-
fluence of the Crown, by having all the places in its dis-
posal, hath so effectually swallowed up the power, and
eaten out the virtue, of the House of Commons (the re-
publican part of the Constitution), that the Government
of England is nearly as monarchical as that of France or
Spain. Men fall out with names, without understanding
them : for it is the republican, and not the monarchical
part of the Constitution of England, which Englishmen
glory in : viz. the liberty of choosing a House of Com-
mons from out of their own body ; and it is easy to see,
that when republican virtue fails, slavery ensues. Why
is the Constitution of England sickly, but because mon-
archy hath poisoned the republic, the Crown hath en-
grossed the Commons ? Idem.
I hold it to be essentially necessary to the preservation
of the constitution, that the privileges of Parliament should
be strictly ascertained, and confined within the narrowest
bounds the nature of their institution will admit of. Upon
the same principle on which I would have resisted pre-
rogative in the last century, I now resist privilege. It is
indifferent to me, whether the Crown, by its own immediate
act, imposes new, and dispenses with old laws, or whether
the same arbitrary power produces the same effects through
the medium of the House of Commons. Junius.
The Aristocracy,* whether ennobled or untitled, whether
in the upper or the lower House, are not to be intrusted
with the guardianship of the public purse. The provision
of the Constitution which so jealously excludes the inter-
ference of the Peers in all money bills, becomes altogether
* Or, large land proprietors.
110 THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.
nullified when the representatives of the Peers are allowed
to vote away the money of the people. And it is obvious
that the same objection lies against the preponderance of
the landed interest in the House of Commons. The Peer-
age either is, or represents that interest the territorial
Aristocracy. The House of Commons consists, according
to the theory of the Constitution, of the representatives of
an interest, not opposite, indeed, but distinct ; that of the
towns and boroughs, and ports and colonies, and corpora-
tions and professions, the monied, industrious, mercantile,
and manufacturing classes; the staple material of Eng-
land's moral and political greatness. Now, it was never
intended that the business of legislation should be mono-
polized by this class ; but the business of taxation is their'*
exclusively. The House of Lords is a high court of judi-
cature : the House of Commons is only a house of busi-
ness. Such, at least, is their respective character. But,
amid the rage for legislation which has been growing upon
the tripartite assembly in St. Stephen's Chapel, the people's
business has been grossly neglected or mismanaged. In
all that concerns the permanent interests of the country,
the landed aristocracy and hereditary Peerage ought, ob-
viously, to have more than an equal voice, because they
have the largest stake. At all events, the British Consti-
tution recognises them as having a power adequate to
balance the Crown and the people. But in all that con-
cerns the ways and means of raising the public revenue,
the aristocracy are not to be trusted ; the less influence
they have, the more perfectly the spirit of the Constitution
is preserved. Sir Francis Burdett is no more to be trusted
on a question of taxation, than the Duke of Devonshire.
The keeping of the public purse belongs to the Commons,
to the people, to the tax-payers. To suppose that the
landed Aristocracy of a country would tax themselves, is
to ascribe to them a chivalrous eccentricity of generosity
which has no parallel except in romance. Eclectic Review.
Ill
SECTION II.
THE EXECUTIVE POWER.
FIRST, the law ascribes to the King the attribute of
sovereignty, or pre-eminence. Rex est vicarius, says Brae-
ton, e t minister Dei in terra : omnis quidem sub eo est, et
ipse sub nullo, nisi tantum sub Deo Hence it is, that
no suit or action can be brought against the King, even in
civil matters, because no court can have jurisdiction over
him. For all jurisdiction implies superiority of power :
authority to try would be vain and idle, without an autho-
rity to redress ; and the sentence of a court would be con-
temptible, unless that court had the power to command
the execution of it : but who, says Finch, shall command
the King ? Hence it is, likewise, that by law the person
of the King is sacred, even though the measures pursued
in his reign be completely arbitrary and tyrannical ; for no
jurisdiction upon earth has power to try him in a criminal
way ; much less to condemn him to punishment. Black-
stone.
Besides the attribute of sovereignty, the law also ascribes
to the King, in his political capacity, absolute perfection.
The King can do no wrong : which ancient and funda-
mental maxim is not to be understood as if everthing
transacted by the government was of course just and law-
ful ; but means only, first, that whatever is exceptionable
in the conduct of public affairs, is not to be imputed to the
King, nor is he answerable for it personally to his people,
which would destroy the constitutional independence of
the Crown : and, secondly, that the prerogative of the
Crown extends not to do any injury : it is created for the
benefit of the people, and therefore cannot be exerted for
their prejudice.
*******
Neither can the King in judgment of law, as King,
ever be a minor or under age ; and, therefore, his royal
grants and assents to acts of Parliament are good, though
he has not in his natural capacity attained the legal age of
twenty-one.
*******
A third attribute of the King's Majesty is his perpetuity.
112 . THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION.
The law ascribes to him, in his political capacity, an abso-
lute immortality. The King never dies. Henry, Edward,
or George may die ; but the King survives them all. For
immediately upon the decease of the reigning prince in his
natural capacity, his Kingship or imperial dignity, by act
of law, without any interregnum or interval, is vested at
once in his heir ; who is, eo instantly King to all intents and
purposes.
*******
We are next to consider those branches of the royal pre-
rogative, which invest this our sovereign lord, thus all-
perfect and immortal in his kingly capacity, with a number
of authorities and powers, in the exertion whereof consists
the executive part of government. This is wisely placed
in a single hand by the British Constitution, for the sake
of unanimity, strength, and dispatch.* Were it placed in
many hands, it would be subject to many wills: many
wills, if disunited and drawing different ways, create weak-
ness in a government; and to unite those several wills,
and reduce them to one, is a work of more time and delay
than the exigencies of the state will afford. The King of
England is therefore not only the chief, but, properly, the
sole magistrate of the nation ; all others acting by com-
mission from, and in due subordination to him : in like
manner as, upon the great revolution in the Roman state,
all the powers of the ancient magistracy of the common-
wealth were concentred in the new emperor.
*******
With regard to foreign concerns, the King is the dele-
gate or representative of his people ; and what is done by
the royal authority, with regard to foreign powers, is the
act of the whole nation. In this capacity, the King has
the sole power of sending ambassadors to foreign states,
and receiving ambassadors at home ; of making treaties,
leagues, and alliances with foreign states and princes ; of
making war and peace ; and of granting safe-conducts or
passports to foreigners within the realm.
In domestic affairs, the King is considered in a great
variety of characters, and from thence there arises an abun-
dant number of other prerogatives. First, he is a constitu-
ent part of the supreme legislative power ; and as such, has
* What follows is abridged from Blackstoue.
THE EXECUTIVE POWER. 113
the prerogative of rejecting such provisions in parliament
as he judges improper to be passed. In the next place,
he is considered as the generalissimo, or the first in mili-
tary command within the kingdom ; and as such, has the
sole power of raising and regulating fleets and armies ; and
erecting, manning, and governing forts and other places of
strength. He has also the power of prohibiting the ex-
portation of arms and ammunition, and of confining his
subjects to stay within the realm. The King is also the
fountain of justice, and general conservator of the peace;
and in this capacity has the sole power of erecting courts
of judicature, appointing judges, issuing proclamations,
and pardoning of offences. He is likewise the fountain of
honour, of office, and of privilege, and therefore all degrees
of nobility and honour are received by immediate grant
from the crown. As the arbiter of commerce, the King
establishes public marts, regulates weights and measures,
and gives authority and currency to the coin.
The King is, lastly, considered by the laws of England
as the head and supreme governor of the established
church. In this capacity he convenes, prorogues, restrains,
regulates, and dissolves all ecclesiastical synods or convo-
cations ; nominates to vacant bishoprics, and certain other
ecclesiastical preferments ; and is the dernier resort in all
ecclesiastical causes. Blackstone.
In order to assist the King in the discharge of his duties,
the maintenance of his dignity, and the exertion of his
prerogative, the law hath assigned him a diversity of coun-
cils to advise with. (1.) The first of these is the high
court of parliament. (2.) The second are the Peers of
the realm, who are, by their birth, hereditary counsellors
of the crown. (3.) The third, the Judges of the courts of
law, for law matters; and (4.) the fourth, the Privy
Council.
The duties of the King are to govern his people accord-
ing to law, to execute judgment in mercy, and to maintain
the established religion. And as the King cannot misuse
his power, without the advice of evil counsellors, and the
assistance of wicked ministers, these men may be examined
and punished. The constitution has provided, by means
of indictments and parliamentary impeachments, that no
man shall dare to assist the crown in contradiction to the
laws of the land. Idem.
VIII. I
114 THE EXECUTIVE POWER.
Portions of power, money, and the unreal dignity of
titles and ribbons, are the means of reward possessed by
the monarch ; and it is his possession of these means, that
enables him to corrupt the members of the other two
branches of the efficient sovereignty : viz. the two Houses
of Parliament. Bentham.
To obviate the danger of such great patronage in the
hands of the executive, the officers nominated should be
subject to the approbation of the legislature. This, per-
haps, would prove some check, more especially if their
pay, instead of passing through the hands of the executive,
were to come immediately from persons selected by the
legislature. The civil list, which in England furnishes the
executive with easy means of corruption, would be con-
siderably diminished, if the salary of the executive were kept
distinct altogether. The civil list includes all salaries to
officers of state, to the judges, and to the king's servants
foreign ambassadors the maintenance of the royal family
the king's private expenses secret service money
pensions and other bounties "which," says orthodox
Blackstone, " sometimes have so far exceeded the revenues
appointed for that purpose, that application has been made
to parliament to discharge the debts contracted on the
civil list." To obviate this inconvenience, and lessen the
powers of corruption, his majesty's salary should be dis-
tinct and limited, and the other expenses paid by persons
deputed by the legislature, whose power should have
entire control over the application, and its respective
amounts. Putt.
PART II.
OF POLITICAL RIGHTS, DUTIES, AND
RESTRAINTS.
CHAPTER I.
POLITICAL RIGHTS.
SECTION I.
CIVIL LIBERTY.
NATURE is the great and only imparter of human right,
which is nothing more than a free and advantageous exer-
cise of certain faculties, or powers, which is requisite for
the support of the body and the happiness and advance-
merit of the mind. This right, however diversified or dis-
torted in its subsequent or accidental ramifications, is
inseparable from a rational being ; because it is the exercise
of certain powers which nature conferred for the very pur-
pose of activity, and is a result of original constitution,
independent of any artificial causes which may assist,
modify, or impede its operations. In other words, it is
the command or permission which nature has given to
man to exercise the powers with which she has gifted him,
in the acquisition of comfort and happiness. And all man's
operations will be found leading to this result But
some philosophers have endeavoured to confine it to this
state [of nature] merely ; and allege that man, by entering
into society with his fellow-men, forfeits the right of nature,
which is substituted by abridged civil privileges. But
natural right, such as we have attempted to describe, does
not require the supposition of any isolated mode of exist-
i2
116 POLITICAL RIGHTS.
ence, nor does such a supposition, if admitted, at all include
that destruction of natural right said to be consequent 011
man's entrance into civil society. Right, as before stated,
arises from the character' of the human mind and body,
and the impulses by which they are urged to action. The
actual wants of man are the same, whether in society or
in solitude; and his identity of nature is not destroyed
because he lives among multitudes of men instead of mul-
titudes of trees In society, the same want exists,
and the same motives impel him to action. His exigence
and his right are identical in both cases, and exist ante-
cedently to any civil compact into which he may enter.
* * * * * *
Civil right includes the protection which individuals
demand, and should receive, from society, and the ratio of
influence which, as individuals, they are entitled to exer-
cise on the institutions of the community in which they
exist. As every man contributes to the support of such
community, and as he is affected immediately or more
indirectly by the laws which are enacted for its regulation,
he has an incontestible claim to create or modify the
general legislation, according to his judgment, through the
medium of the established representation. Governments
should, therefore, be the " express image " of popular
opinion a reflected concentration of national mind.
Carpenter.
The absolute rights of man, considered as a free agent,
endued with discernment to know good from evil, and
with power of choosing those measures which appear to
him to be most desirable, are usually summed up in one
general appellation, and denominated the natural liberty
of mankind. This natural liberty consists properly in u
power of acting as one thinks fit, without any restraint or
control, unless by the law of nature ; being a right inhe-
rent in us by birth, and one of the gifts of God to man at
his creation, when he endued him with the faculty of free-
will. But every man, when he enters into society, gives
up a part of his natural liberty, as t\\e price of so valuable
a purchase ; and, in consideration of receiving the advan-
tages of mutual commerce, obliges himself to conform to
those laws which the community have thought proper to
establish. And this species of legal obedience and con-
formity is infinitely more desirable than that wild and
CIVIL LIBERTY. 117
savage liberty which is sacrificed to obtain it. For no man,
that considers a moment, would wish to retain the absolute
and uncontrolled power of doing whatever he pleases : the
consequence of which is, that every other man would also
have the same power; and then there would be no security
to individuals in any of the enjoyments of life. Political,
therefore, or civil liberty, which is that of a member of
society, is no other than natural liberty so far restrained
by human laws (and no farther) as is necessary and expe-
dient for the general advantage of the public. Hence we
may collect that the law, which restrains a man from doing-
mischief to his fellow-citizens, though it diminishes the
natural, increases the civil liberty of mankind ; but that
every wanton and causeless restraint of the will of the
subject, whether practised by a monarch, a nobility, or a
popular assembly, is a degree of tyranny : nay, that even
Jaws themselves, whether made with or without our con-
sent, if they regulate and constrain our conduct in matters
of mere indifference, without any good end in view, are
regulations destructive of liberty. Blackstone.
To do what we will, is natural liberty : to do what we
will, consistently with the interest of the community to
which we belong, is civil liberty; that is to say, the only
liberty to be desired in a state of civil society. The
boasted liberty of a state of nature exists only in a state of
solitude. In every kind and degree of union and inter-
course with his species, it is possible that the liberty of
the individual may be augmented by the very laws which
restrain it ; because he may gain more from the limitation
of other men's freedom than he suffers by the diminution
of his own. Natural liberty is the right of common upon
a waste; civil liberty is the safe, exclusive, unmolested
enjoyment of a cultivated enclosure.
The definition of civil liberty above laid down, imports
that the laws of a free people impose no restraints upon
the private will of the subject, which do not conduce in a
greater degree to the public happiness ; by which it is in-
timated, 1st, that restraint itself is an evil; 2dly, that this
evil ought to be overbalanced by some public advantage ;
3dly, that the proof of this advantage lies upon the legis-
lature ; 4thly, that a law being found to produce no sen-
sible good effects, is a sufficient reason for repealing it, as
118 POLITICAL RIGHTS.
adverse and injurious to the rights of a free citizen, with-
out demanding- specific evidence of its bad effects.
The degree of actual liberty always bearing, according
to this account of it, a reversed proportion to the number
and severity of the restrictions which are either useless, or
the utility of which does not outweigh the evil of the
restraint, it follows, that every nation possesses some, no
nation perfect, liberty : that this liberty may be enjoyed
under every form of government : that it may be impaired
indeed, or increased, but that it is neither gained, nor
lost, nor recovered, by any single regulation, change, or
event whatever : that, consequently, those popular phrases
which speak of a free people ; of a nation of slaves ; which
call one revolution the era of liberty, or another the loss
of it ; w r ith many expressions of a like absolute form ; are
intelligible only in a comparative sense.
Hence also we are enabled to apprehend the distinction
between personal and civil liberty. A citizen of the freest
republic in the world may be imprisoned for his crimes ;
and though his personal freedom be restrained by bolts
and fetters, so long as his confinement is the effect of a
beneficial public law, his civil liberty is not invaded. If
this instance appear dubious, the following will be plainer.
A passenger from the Levant, who, upon his return to
England, should be conveyed to a lazaretto by an order of
quarantine, with whatever impatience he might desire his
enlargement, and though he saw a guard placed at the
door to oppose his escape, or even ready to destroy his
life if he attempted it, would hardly accuse government of
encroaching upon his civil freedom ; nay, might, perhaps,
be all the while congratulating himself that he had at
length set his foot again in a land of liberty. The mani-
fest expediency of the measure not only justifies it, but
reconciles the most odious confinement with the perfect
possession, and the loftiest notions, of civil liberty. And
if this be true of the coercion of a prison, that it is com-
patible with a state of civil freedom, it cannot with reason
be disputed of those more moderate constraints which the
ordinary operation of government imposes upon the will
of the individual. It is not the rigour, but the inexpedi-
ency, of laws and acts of authority, which makes them
tyrannical.
CIVIL LIBERTY. 119
There is another idea of civil liberty, which, though
neither so simple nor so accurate as the former, agrees
better with the signification, which the usage of common
discourse, as well as the example of many respectable
writers upon the subject, has affixed to the term. The
idea places liberty in security ; making it to consist not
merely in an actual exemption from the constraint of use-
less and noxious laws arid acts of dominion, but in being
free from the danger of having such hereafter imposed or
exercised. Thus, speaking of the political state of mo-
dern Europe, we are accustomed to say of Sweden, that
she hath lost her liberty by the revolution which lately
took place in that country ; and yet we are assured that
the people continue to be governed by the same laws as
before, or by others which are wiser, milder, and more
equitable. What then have they lost ? They have lost
the power and functions of their diet ; the constitution of
their states and orders, whose deliberations and concur-
rence were required in the formation and establishment of
every public law ; and thereby have parted with the secu-
rity which they possessed against any attempts of the
crown to harass its subjects, by oppressive and useless
exertions of prerogative. The loss of this security we
denominate the loss of liberty. They have changed, not
their laws, but their legislature ; not their enjoyment, but
their safety ; not their present burdens, but their prospects
of future grievances ; and this we pronounce a change
from the condition of freemen to that of slaves.
# # # # # *
The definitions which have been framed of civil liberty,
and which have become the subject of much unnecessary
altercation, are most of them adapted to this idea. Thus
one political writer makes the very essence of the subject's
liberty to consist in his being governed by no laws but
those to which he hath actually consented; another is
satisfied with an indirect and virtual consent; another,
again, places civil liberty in the separation of the legisla-
tive and executive offices of government ; another, in the
being governed by law, that is, by known, preconstituted,
inflexible rules of action and adjudication ; a fifth, in the
exclusive right of the people to tax themselves by their
own representatives ; a sixth, in the freedom and purity
of elections of representatives ; a seventh, in the control
120 POLITICAL RIGHTS.
which the democratic part of the constitution possesses
over the military establishment. Concerning which, and
some other similar accounts of civil liberty, it may be ob-
served, that they all labour under one inaccuracy, viz. that
they describe not so much liberty itself, as the safeguards
zjid preservatives of liberty : for example, a man's being
governed by no laws but those to which he has given his
consent, were it practicable, is no otherwise necessary to
the enjoyment of civil liberty, than as it affords a probable
security against the dictation of laws imposing superfluous
restrictions upon his private will. This remark is appli-
cable to the rest. The diversity of these definitions will
not surprise us, when we consider that there is no contra-
riety or opposition amongst them whatever : for, by how
many different provisions and precautions civil liberty is
fenced and protected, so many different accounts of liberty
itself, all sufficiently consistent with truth and with each
other, may, according to this mode of explaining the term,
be framed and adopted.
Truth cannot be offended by a definition, but propriety
may. In which view, those definitions of liberty ought to
be rejected, which, by making that essential to civil free-
dom which is unattainable in experience, inflame expecta-
tions that can never be gratified, and disturb the public
content with complaints, which no wisdom or benevolence
of government can remove.
It will not be thought extraordinary, that an idea, which
occurs so much oftener as the subject of panegyric and
careless declamation, than of just reasoning or correct
knowledge, should be attended with uncertainty and con-
fusion ; or that it should be found impossible to contrive a
definition, which may include the numerous, unsettled, and
ever-varying significations, which the term is made to
stand for, and at the same time accord with the condition
and experience of social life.
Of the two ideas that have been stated of civil liberty,
whichever we assume, and whatever reasoning we found
upon them, concerning its extent, nature, value, and preser-
vation, this is the conclusion ; that that people, govern-
ment, arid constitution, is the/r<?6^, which makes the best
provision for the enacting of expedient and salutary laws.
Paley.
The rights of men, that is to say, the natural rights of
CIVIL LIBERTY. 121
mankind, are, indeed, sacred things ; and if any public
measure is proved mischievously to affect them, the objec-
tion ought to be fatal to that measure, even if no charter at
all could be set up against it. If these natural rights are
farther affirmed and declared by express covenants, if they
are clearly defined and secured against chicane, against
power and authority, by written instruments and positive
engagements, they are in a still better condition. They
partake not only of the sanctity of the object so secured,
but of that solemn public faith itself, which secures an ob-
ject of.such importance. Indeed, this formal recognition,
by the sovereign power, of an original right in the subject,
can never be subverted but by rooting up the radical prin-
ciples of government, and even of society itself. The
charters which we call by distinction great, are public in-
struments of this nature; I mean the charters of King
John, and King Henry the Third. The things secured
by these instruments may, without any deceitful ambiguity,
be very fitly called the chartered rights of men. Burke.
To renounce one's liberty, is to renounce one's very
being as a man : it is to renounce not only the rights but
the duties of humanity. And what possible indemnity
can be made to a man who thus gives up his all ? Such a
renunciation is incompatible with our very nature, for to
deprive us of the liberty of the will, is to take away all
morality from our actions. Rousseau.
Man did not enter into society to become worse than
he was before, nor to have fewer rights than he had before ;
but to have those rights better secured. His natural
rights are the foundation of all his civil rights Natural
rights are those which appertain to man in right of his
existence. Of this kind are all the intellectual rights, or
rights of the mind ; and also, all those rights of acting as
an individual for his own comfort and happiness, which
are not injurious to the natural rights of others. Civil
rights, are those which appertain to man in right of his
being a member of society. Every civil right has for its
foundation some natural right pre-existing in the indivi-
dual, but to the enjoyment of which his individual power
is not, in all cases, sufficiently competent. Of this kind
are all those which relate to security and protection. The
natural rights which he retains, are all those in which the
power to execute is as perfect in the individual, as the
122 POLITICAL RIGHTS.
right itself. Among this class, as is before mentioned,
are all the intellectual rights, or rights of the mind : con-
sequently, religion is one of those rights. The natural
rights which are riot retained, are all those in which,
though the right is perfect in the individual, the power to
execute them is defective. They answer not his purpose.
A man, by natural right, has a right to judge in his own
cause ; and so far as the right of the mind is concerned, he
never surrenders it. But what availeth it him to judge, if
he has riot the power to redress ? He therefore deposits
this right in the common stock of society, and takes the
arm of society, of which he is a part, in preference to his
own. Society grants him nothing. Every man is a pro-
prietor in society, and draws on the capital as a matter of
right. Paine.
Every man has naturally a right to every thing which
is necessary to his subsistence. To allow to the first
occupier of land as much as he can cultivate, and is neces-
sary to his subsistence, is certainly carrying the matter as
far as is reasonable: otherwise we know not how to set
bounds to this right. The social system, instead of an-
nihilating the natural equality of mankind, substitutes, on
the contrary, a moral and legal equality. This equality
indeed is, under bad governments, merely apparent and
delusive, serving only to keep the poor in misery, and
favour the oppression of the rich. In fact, the laws are
always useful to persons of fortune, and hurtful to those
who are destitute. Wheace it follows, that a state of
society is advantageous to mankind in general, only where
they all possess something, and none of them have any
thing too much. Rousseau.
The people have rights, but kings and princes have
none. The people stand in need of neither charters nor
precedents to prove theirs, nor of professional men to in-
terpret either. They are born with every man in every
country, and exist in all countries alike, the despotic as
well as the free, though they may not be equally easy to
be recovered in all. Lord Lansdowne.
Political liberty does not consist in an unlimited free-
dom. In governments, that is, in societies directed by
laws, liberty can consist only in the power of doing what
we ought to will, and in not being constrained to do, what
we ought not to will. We must have continually present
ELIGIOUS LIBERTY. 123
to our minds the difference between independence and
liberty. Liberty is a right of doing whatever the laws
permit ; and if a citizen could do what they forbid, he
would be no longer possessed of liberty, because all his
fellow-citizens would have the same power. Montesquieu.
[See also the chapter on the Origin and Objects of
Society.]
SECTION II.
RELIGIOUS LIBERTY.
As to religion, I hold it to be the indispensable duty of
all governments to protect all conscientious professors
thereof, and I know of no other business which govern-
ment hath to do therewith. Let a man throw aside that
narrowness of soul, that selfishness of principle, which the
niggards of all professions are so unwilling to part with,
and he will be at once delivered of his fears on that head.
Suspicion is the companion of meari souls, and the bane
of all good society. For myself, I fully and conscienti-
ously believe, that it is the will of the Almighty, that there
should be a diversity of religious opinions among us j it
affords a larger field for our Christian kindness. Were we
all of one way of thinking, our religious dispositions would
want matter for probation ; and on this liberal principle, I
look on the various denominations among us, to be like
children of the same family, differing only in what is called
their Christian names. Paine.
Civil governors go miserably out of their proper pro-
vince whenever they take upon them the care of truth, or
the support of any doctrinal points. They are not judges
of truth j and if they pretend to decide about it, they will
decide wrong. It is superstition, idolatry, and nonsense,
that civil power at present supports almost everywhere,
under the idea of supporting sacred truth, and opposing
dangerous error. All the experience of past time proves
that the consequence of allowing civil power to judge of
the nature and tendency of doctrines, must be making it
a hinderance to the progress of truth, and an enemy to the
improvement of the world. Anaxagoras was tried and
condemned in Greece for teaching that the sun and stars
124 POLITICAL RIGHTS.
were not deities, but masses of corruptible matter. Accu-
sations of the like kind contributed to the death of So-
crates. The threats of bigots, and the fear of persecu-
tion, prevented Copernicus from publishing, during his
life-time, his discovery of the true system of the world.
Galileo was obliged to renounce the doctrine of the mo-
tion of the earth, and suffered a year's imprisonment for
having asserted it. And so lately as the year 1742, the
best commentary on the first production of human genius,
(Newton's Principia,) was not allowed to be printed at
Rome, because it asserted this doctrine ; and the learned
commentators were obliged to prefix to their work a decla-
ration, that on this point they submitted to the decisions
of the supreme pontiffs. Such have been, arid such (while
men continue blind and ignorant will always be,) the con-
sequence of the interposition of civil governments in mat-
ters of speculation. Price.
Nothing can be more unreasonable than an attempt to
retain men in one common opinion by the dictate of autho-
rity. The opinion thus obtruded upon the minds of the
public is not their ral opinion ; it is only a project by
which they are rendered incapable of forming an opinion.
Whenever government assumes to deliver us from the
trouble of thinking for ourselves, the only consequences it
produces are those of torpor and imbecility. Wherever
truth stands in the mind unaccompanied by the evidence
upon which it depends, it cannot properly be said to be
apprehended at all. The mind is in this case robbed of
its essential character, and genuine employment, and along
with them must be expected to lose all that which is
capable of rendering its operations salutary and admirable.
Either mankind will resist the assumptions of authority,
undertaking to superintend their opinions, arid then these
assumptions will produce no more then an ineffectual strug-
gle ; or they will submit, and than the effects will be in-
jurious. He that in any degree consigns to another the
task of dictating his opinions and his conduct, will cease
to inquire for himself, or his inquiries will be languid or
inanimate. Godwin.
It is a mistake to suppose that speculative differences of
opinion, threaten to disturb materially the peace of society.
It is only when they are enabled to arm themselves with
the authority of government, to form parties in the state,
RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. 1*25
and to struggle for that political ascendancy which is too
frequently exerted in support of, or in opposition to, some
particular creed, that they become dangerous. Whenever
government is wise enough to maintain an inflexible neu-
trality, these jarring sects are always found to live toge-
ther with sufficient harmony. The very means that have
been employed for the preservation of order, have been the
only means that have led to its disturbance. The moment
government resolves to admit of no regulations oppressive
to either party, controversy finds its level, and appeals to
arguments and reason, instead of appealing to the sword
or the stake. The moment government descends to wear
the badge of a sect, religious Avar is commenced, the world
is disgraced with inexplicable broils, and deluged with
blood. Idem.
To subdue th' unconquerable mind,
To make one reason have the same effect
Upon all apprehensions ; to force this
Or that man, just to think, as thou and I do ;
Impossible ! unless souls were alike
In all, which differ now like human faces. Roive.
Any species of force used in the propagation of certain
creeds or doctrines, with a view of changing or destroying
any peculiar belief, is an invasion of natural right, or that
freedom of intellectual action which man, in a detached
state of nature, would preserve. It is not, however, hence
to be inferred, that, by the doctrine of natural right, pri-
vate opinions are prohibited from being extended for the
examination and benefit of others. It is violence, the
domineering and despotical imposition of certain creeds,
without regard to individual judgment and willingness,
that we here deprecate; for though man, by natural right,
is mentally independent, and ought to exercise his powers
in freedom, it is still evident that he was adapted for social
and intellectual intercourse, and that his happiness was
made in a high degree consequent upon the reciprocation
of knowledge and sympathy. Carpenter.
Man has a right to think all things, speak all thins::?,
write all things, but not to impose^his opinions. Ma-
chifivel.
126
SECTION III.
THE RIGHT OF FREE DISCUSSION.
THE most capital advantage an enlightened people can
enjoy, is the liberty of discussing every subject which can
fall within the compass of the human mind : while this
remains, freedom will flourish; but should it be lost or
impaired, its principles will neither be well understood
nor long retained. To render the magistrate a judge of
truth, and engage his authority in the suppression of opi-
nions, Shows an inattention to the nature and design of
political society. When a nation form a government, it
is not wisdom but power which they place in the hand of
the magistrate ; from whence it follows, his concern is
only with those objects which power can operate upon.
On this account, the administration of justice, the protec-
tion of property, and the defence of every member of the
community from violence and outrage, fall naturally within
the province of the civil ruler, for these may all be accom-
plished by power : but an attempt to distinguish truth
from error, and to countenance one set of opinions to the
prejudice of another, is to apply power in a manner mis-
chievous and absurd. Robert Hall.
Though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to
play upon the earth, so truth be in the field, we do inju-
riously, by licensing and prohibiting, to doubt her strength.
Let her and falsehood grapple ; who ever knew truth put
to the worse in a free and open encounter ? Who knows
not that truth is strong, next to the Almighty V She needs
no policies, nor stratagems, nor licensings, to make her
victorious : those are the shifts and defences that error
uses against her power. Give her but room, and do not
bind her when she sleeps, for then she speaks not true,
but then rather she turns herself into all shapes, except
her own, and, perhaps, tunes her voice according to the
time, until she be adjured into her own likeness. To
count a man not fit to print his mind, is the greatest indig-
nity to a free and knowing spirit that can be put upon
him. What advantage is it to be a man [rather than] a
body at school, if we have only escaped the ferula, to come
under the fescu of an imprimatur ? Milton.
RIGHT OF FREE DISCUSSION. 127
Methiriks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation
rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking
her invincible locks; methinks I see her as an eagle renew-
ing her mighty youth, and kindling her endazzled eyes at the
full mid-day beam, purging and unsealing her long abused
sight at the fountain itself of heavenly radiance ; while the
whole noise of timorous flocking birds, with those also that
love the twilight, flutter about, amazed at what she means,
and in their envious gabble would prognosticate a year of
sects and schisms. What should you do then, should
you suppress all this flowery crop of knowledge and new
light sprung up, and yet springing daily iu this city?
Should ye set an oligarchy to bring a famine on our minds
again, when we shall know nothing, but what is measured
to us by their bushel ? Idem.
However some may affect to dread controversy, it can
never be of ultimate disadvantage to the interests of truth,
or the happiness of mankind. Where it is indulged in its
full extent, a multitude of ridiculous opinions will, no doubt,
be obtruded upon the public; but any ill influence they
may produce cannot continue long, as they are sure to be
opposed with at least equal ability, and that superior ad-
vantage which is ever attendant on truth. The colours
with which wit or eloquence has adorned a false system
will gradually die away, sophistry be detected, and every
thing estimated at length according to its real value.
Robert Hall.
Let it be impressed upon your minds, let it be instilled
into your children, that the liberty of the press is the pal-
ladium of all the civil, political, and religious rights of an
Englishman. Junius.
Government is the creature of the people, and that which
they have created they surely have a right to examine.
The great Author of nature having placed the right of
dominion in no particular hands, hath left every point
relating to it to be settled by the consent and approbation
of mankind. In spite of the attempts of sophistry to con-
ceal the origin of political rights, it must inevitably rest at
length on the acquiescence of the people. In the case of
individuals it is extremely plain. If one man should over-
whelm another with superior force, and after completely
subduing him under the name of government, transmit him
in this condition to his heirs, every one would exclaim
128 POLITICAL RESTRAINTS.
against such an act of injustice. But whether the object
of his oppression be one or a million can make no differ-
ence in its nature, the idea of equity having no relation to
that of numbers. Robert Hall.
The sovereign power being derived from the will of the
people, explicit or implied, and existing solely for their
use, it can no more become independent of that will than
water can rise above its source. But, if we allow the
people are the true origin of political power, it is absurd
to require them to resign the right of discussing any ques-
tion that can arise either upon its form or its measures, as
this would put it for ever out of their power to revoke the
trust which they have placed in the hands of their rulers.
Idem.
If the excellency of a constitution is assigned as the
reason that none should be permitted to censure it, who,
I ask, is to determine o.n this its excellence ? If you reply,
every man's own reason will determine, you concede the
very point I am endeavouring to establish, the liberty of
free inquiry : if you reply, our rulers, you admit a principle
that equally applies to every government in the world, and
will lend no more support to the British constitution than
to that of Turkey or Algiers. Idem.
CHAPTER II.
POLITICAL RESTRAINTS.
THE happiness of individuals, of whom a community is
composed, that is, their pleasures and their security, is the
sole end, the only purpose, of government and legislation ;
at the same time, it is the sole standard, in conformity to
which each individual ought, as far as depends upon the
legislator, to be made to fashion his behaviour. But how
is an individual, or any number of individuals, to be made
to conform to that which is decided to be favourable to the
production of a balance of happiness ? Whatever is to be
done, there is nothing by which a man can be made to do
it, but by the application of pain or pleasure. All that the
law can 'do is by punishment. By the annexation of cer-
OF POLITICAL RESTRAINTS. 129
tain pains to certain forbidden conduct, which shall, by
their uniform application, become associated with such
conduct, in the minds of all, and thus form an operative
and ever present restraint. The object of all laws being
to augment the total happiness of the community, and
all punishment being mischief, why is it admitted ? Only
upon the greatest happiness principle, because it promises
to exclude some greater evil. The penal branch of law
constitutes the chief branch, because civil law may be con-
sidered merely as a system of arbitration of property, in
cases of disputed or doubtful ownership. The application
of the penalties, in relation to the prevention of offences,
is, it is evident, of the highest moment. It is the training
of the adult, as education is of childhood. The never-
ending series of evils, arising from a misplaced application
of such pains, or the want of their wholesome restraint,
ought to prove sufficient for inspiring the mind of every
teacher and legislator with the most anxious solicitude for
the discharge of his high trust. Anon.
Political liberty, considered with relation to a citizen,
consists in that security in which he lives under shelter
of the laws; or at least in an opinion of this security,
which makes no one citizen entertain any fear of another.
It is principally by the nature and proportion of punish-
ments, that this liberty is established or destroyed. Crimes
against religion ought to be punished by a privation of
those advantages which religion procures ; crimes against
morality, by shame : crimes against the public tranquillity,
by imprisonment or banishment ; crimes against its secu-
rity, by more grievous punishments. Writings ought to
be less punished than actions ; simple thoughts ought never
to be so. Accusations which are not according to the
forms of law, spies, anonymous letters, all those resources
of tyranny which are equally disgraceful to such as are the
instruments of them and those who make use of them,
ought to be proscribed in every good government. No-
body ought to be permitted to accuse but in the face of the
law, which always punishes either the accused person or
the calumniator. In every other case, those who govern
ought to say, with the Emperor Constantius " We can-
not suspect a man against whom no accuser appeared,
when, at the same time, he did not want an enemy." It
is a very tine institution by which a public officer charges
IX. K
130 OF POLITICAL RESTRAINTS.
himself, in the name of the state, with the prosecution of
crimes ; as this answers all the good purposes of informers,
without being exposed to those sordid interests, those in-
conveniences, and that infamy, which attend them.
D'Akmbert.
The business of society is to provide arguments for
abstaining from wrong. Before restraining law existed,
strength gave the only title. Men grew weary of this ;
and, uniting by an implied agreement, bestowed powers
upon selected individuals, that might be applied upon
occasion for the redress of all attacks upon the happiness
of every one so united. A parish confederacy, on a large
scale, is formed of a constable and watchman, to go the
parish rounds ; so that they who subscribe to the associa-
tion may be freed from the dread of burglars, vagabonds,
and thieves of all kinds, whose aim is to live upon the
labour of others The chief constable is called, some-
times, King; sometimes President. The duties of the
officers spoken of are, to watch, and, by the terror of their
staves and laced hats, to prevent as much of the mischief
as possible; but, if necessary, to enforce and adminis-
ter the pains which the vestry determine ought to be
associated with any given conduct hanging, lining, and
flogging. In all cases, the vestry are to be the judges of
what constitutes an offence. The watchmen and con-
stable have often turned thieves have hanged the rate-
payers with their own weapons, while the parish have not
always been able to bring them to justice. The question
most unfavourable to these domestic traitors is, what is
favourable to the production of the greatest happiness ?
Are you, under the present system, as good officers as
cheap, as active, as civil, as others whom we might employ,
seeing that we have always the right and the power of
change ? The Americans and Englishmen, more than
once, have solved part of the inquiry ; but when will
Spain, Portugal, Italy the world, change their police,
and hang all the constables who deserve it ? Anon.
131
CHAPTER III.
THE FORCE AND AUTHORITY OF LAW.
WE must acknowledge relations of justice antecedent
to the positive law by which they are established : as for
instance, that if human societies existed, it would be right
to conform to their laws ; if they were intelligent beings
that had received a benefit of another being, they ought to
show their gratitude ; if one intelligent being had created
another intelligent being, the latter ought to continue in
its original state of dependence ; if one intelligent being
injures another, it deserves retaliation; and so on.
# # * # * * #
Man, as a physical being, is like other bodies, governed
by invariable laws. As an intelligent being, he incessantly
transgresses the laws established by God, and changes
those of his own instituting. He is left to his private
direction, though a limited being, and subject, like all finite
intelligences, to ignorance and error : even his imperfect
knowledge he loses ; and, as a sensible creature, he is hur-
ried away by a thousand impetuous passions. Such a
being might every instant forget his Creator; God has
therefore reminded him of his duty by the laws of religion.
Such a being is every moment liable to forget himself;
philosophy has provided against this by the laws of mo-
rality. Formed to live in society, he might forget his fel-
low-creatures ; legislators, have, therefore, by political and
civil laws, confined him to his duty. Montesquieu.
The existing authorities in a state are to be respected
and obeyed, as interpreters of the public will. Till they
are set aside by the unequivocal voice of the people, they
are a law to every member of the community. To resist
them is rebellion ; and for any particular set of men to
attempt their subversion by force, is a heinous crime, as
they represent and embody the collective majesty of the
state. They are the exponents, to use the language of
algebra, of the precise cjuantity of liberty the people have
thought proper to legalise and secure. But though they
are a law to every member of the society, separately con-
sidered, they cannot bind the society itself, or prevent it,
K 2
132 OP PUNISHMENT.
when it shall think proper, from forming an entire new
arrangement; a right that no compact can alienate or
diminish, and which has been exerted as often as a free
government has been formed. Robert Hall.
If a law be bad, it is one thing to oppose the practice of
it, but it is quite a different thing to expose its errors, to
reason on its defects, arid to show cause why it should be
repealed, or why another ought to be substituted in its
place. I have always held it an opinion (making it also
my practice) that it is better to obey a bad law, making
use at the same time of every argument to show its errors
and procure its repeal, than forcibly to violate it ; because
the precedent of breaking a bad law might weaken the
force, and lead to a discretionary violation, of those which
are good. Paine.
CHAPTER IV.
THE OBJECT OF PUNISHMENT.
THE proper end of human punishment is not the satis"
faction of justice, but the prevention of crimes. By the
satisfaction of justice, I mean the retribution of so much
pain for so much guilt; which is the dispensation we
expect at the hand of God, and which we are accustomed
to consider as the order of things that perfect justice dic-
tates and requires. In what sense, or whether with truth
in any sense, justice may be said to demand the punishment
of offenders, I do not now inquire > but I assert, that this
demand is not the motive or occasion of human punishment.
What would it be to the magistrate, that offences went
altogether unpunished, if the impunity of the offenders
were followed by no danger or prejudice to the common-
wealth ? The fear lest the escape of the criminal should
encourage him, or others, by his example, to repeat the
same crime, or to commit different crimes, is the sole con-
sideration which authorizes the infliction of punishment by
human laws. Now that, whatever it be, which is the
cause and end of the punishment, ought undoubtedly to
regulate the measure of its severity. But this cause ap-
pears to be founded, not in the guilt of the offender, but
OF PUNISHMENT. 133
in the necessity of preventing- the repetition of the offence:
and hence results the reason, that crimes are not by any
government punished in proportion to their guilt, nor in
all cases ought to be so, but in proportion to the difficulty
and the necessity of preventing them. Thus the stealing
of goods privately out of a shop may not, in its moral
quality, be more criminal than the stealing of them out of
a house ; yet being equally necessary, and more difficult to
be prevented, the law, in certain circumstances, denounces
against it a severer punishment. The crime must be pre-
vented by some means or other ; and, consequently, what-
ever means appear necessary to this end, whether they be
proportionable to the guilt of the criminal or not, are
adopted rightly, because they are adopted upon the prin-
ciple which alone justifies the infliction of punishment at
all. From the same consideration it also follows, that
punishment ought not to be employed, much less rendered
severe, when the crime can be prevented by any other
means. Punishment is an evil to which the magistrate
resorts only from its being necessary to the prevention of
a greater. This necessity does not exist, when the end
may be attained, that is, when the public may be defended
from the effects of the crime, by any other expedient. The
sanguinary laws which have been made against counter-
feiting or diminishing the gold coin of the kingdom might
be just until the method of detecting the fraud, by weigh-
ing the money, was introduced into general usage. Since
that precaution was practised, these laws have slept; and
an execution under them at this day would be deemed a
measure of unjustifiable severity. The same principle
accounts for a circumstance which has been often cen-
sured as an absurdity in the penal laws of this, and of most
modern nations, namely, that breaches of trust are either
not punished at all, or punished with less rigour than other
frauds. Wherefore is it, some have asked, that a violation
of confidence, which increases the guilt, should mitigate
the penalty ? This lenity, or rather forbearance, of the
laws, is founded in the most reasonable distinction. A
due circumspection in the choice of the persons whom
they trust ; caution in limiting the extent of that trust ; or
the requiring of sufficient security for the faithful discharge
of it ; will commonly guard men from injuries of this
description ; and the law will not interpose its sanctions to
134 THE ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE.
protect negligence and credulity, or to supply the place o.
domestic care and prudence.* To be convinced that the
law proceeds entirely upon this consideration, we have
only to observe, that where the confidence is unavoidable,
where no practicable vigilance could watch the offender,
as in the case of theft committed by a servant in the shop
or dwelling-house of his master, or upon property to which
he must necessarily have access, the sentence of the law
is not less severe, and its execution commonly more certain
and rigorous, than if no trust at all had intervened. Paley.
CHAPTER V.
THE ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE.
THE first maxim of a free state is, that the laws be made
by one set of men, and administered by another; in other
words, that the legislative and judicial characters be kept
separate. When these offices are united in the same per-
son or assembly, particular laws are made for particular
cases, springing oftentimes from partial motives, and di-
rected to private ends : whilst they are kept separate,
general laws are made by one body of men, without fore-
seeing whom they may affect ; and, when made, must, be
applied by the other, let them affect whom they will.
For the sake of illustration, let it be supposed, in this
country, either that parliaments being laid aside, the courts
of Westminster Hall made their own laws ; or that the
two houses of parliament, with the King at their head,
tried and decided causes at their bar ; it is evident, in the
first place, that the decisions of such a judicature would be
so many laws ; and, in the second place, that, when the
parties and the interests to be affected by the law were
known, the inclinations of the law-makers would inevitably
attach on one side or the other; and that where there
were neither any fixed rules to regulate their determina-
tions, nor any superior power to control their proceedings,
these inclinations would interfere with the integrity of
* This is contradicted by the barbarous practice of imprison-
ment for debt.
THE ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE. 135
public justice. The consequence of which must be, that
the subjects of such a constitution would live either with-
out any constant laws, that is, without any known pre-
established rules of adjudication whatever ; or under laws
made for particular persons, and partaking of the contra-
dictions and iniquity of the motives to which they owed
their origin.
Which dangers, by the division of the legislative and
judicial functions, are in this country effectually provided
against. Parliament knows not the individuals upon whom
its acts will operate ; it has no cases or parties before it ;
no private designs to serve ; consequently, its resolutions
will be suggested by the consideration of universal effects
and tendencies, which always produces impartial, and
commonly advantageous regulations. When laws are
made, courts of justice, whatever be the disposition of the
judges, must abide by them ; for the legislative being ne-
essarily the supreme power of the state, the judicial and
every other power is accountable to that : and it cannot
be doubted tlmt the persons who possess the sovereign
authority of government, will be tenacious of the laws
which they themselves prescribe, and sufficiently jealous
of the assumption of dispensing and legislative power by
any others.
This fundamental rule of civil jurisprudence is violated
in the case of acts of attainder or confiscation, in bills of
pains and penalties, and in all ex post facto laws whatever,
in which parliament exercises the double office of legisla-
ture and judge. And whoever either understands the
value of the rule itself, or collects the history of those
instances in which it has been invaded, will be induced, I
believe, to acknowledge, that it had been wiser and safer
never to have departed from it. He will confess, at least,
that nothing but the most manifest and immediate peril of
the commonwealth will justify a repetition of these dan-
gerous examples. If the laws in being do not punish an
offender, let him go unpunished ; let the legislature, ad-
monished of the defect of the laws, provide against the
commission of future crimes of the same sort. The escape
of one delinquent can never produce so much harm to the
community as may arise from the infraction of a rule upon
which the purity of public justice, and the existence of
civil liberty, essentially depend. Paley.
136 THE ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE.
The pure and impartial administration of justice is, per-
haps, the firmest bond to secure a cheerful submission of
the people, and to engage their affections to government.
It is not sufficient that questions of private right or wrong
are justly decided, nor that judges are superior to the vile-
ness of personal corruption. Jeffries himself, when the
court had no interest, was an upright judge. A court of
justice may be subject to another sort of bias, more im-
portant and pernicious, as it reaches beyond the interest
of individuals, and affects the whole community. A judge
under the influence of government, may be honest enough
in the decision of private causes, yet a traitor to the public.
When a victim is marked out by the ministry, this judge
will offer himself to perform the sacrifice. He will not
scruple to prostitute his dignity, and betray the sanctity of
his office, whenever an arbitrary point is to be carried for
government, or the resentment of a court to be gratified.
Junius.
The next security for the impartial administration of
justice, especially in decisions in which government is a
party, is the independency of the judges. As protection
against every illegal attack upon the rights of the subject
by the servants of the crown is to be sought for from these
tribunals, the judges of the land become not unfrequently
the arbitrators between the king and the people, on which
account they ought to be independent of either ; or, what
is the same thing, equally dependent upon both ; that is,
if they be appointed by the one, they should be removable
only by the other. This was the policy which dictated
that memorable improvement in our constitution, by which
the judges, who before the Revolution held their offices
during the pleasure of the king, can now be deprived of
them only by an address from both houses of parliament ;
as the most regular, solemn, and authentic way, by which
the dissatisfaction of the people can be expressed. To
make this independency of the judges complete, the public
salaries of their office ought not only to be certain both in
amount and continuance, but so liberal as to secure their
integrity from the temptation of secret bribes; which liber-
ality will answer also the farther purpose of preserving
their jurisdiction from contempt, and their characters from
suspicion ; as well as of rendering the office worthy of the
ambition of men of eminence in their profession. Paley.
LIMITS OF POLITICAL OBEDIENCE. 137
Salus populi suprema lex ; and laws, except they be in
order to that end, are things captious, and oracles not well
inspired. There be (saith the Scripture) that turn judg-
ment into wormwood ; and surely there be also that turn
it into vinegar : for injustice maketh it bitter, and delays
make it sour. Judges must beware of hard constructions
and strained inferences, for there is no worse torture than
the torture of laws. One foul sentence doth more hurt
than many foul examples. Lord Bacon.
CHAPTER VI.
THE LIMITS OF POLITICAL OBEDIENCE.
WHENEVER the legislators endeavour to reduce the
people to slavery under arbitrary power, they put them-
selves into a state of war with the people, who are there-
upon absolved from any farther obedience, and are left to
the common refuge which God hath provided for all men
against force or violence. Whenever, therefore, the legis-
lature shall either by ambition, fear, folly, or corruption,
endeavour to grasp themselves, or put into the hands of
any other, an absolute power over the lives, liberties, and
estates of the people ; by this breach of trust they forfeit
the power the people had put into their hands for quite
contrary ends, and it devolves to the people, who have a
right to resume their original liberty, and by the establish-
ment of a new legislature (such as they shall think fit), to
provide for their own safety and security, which is the end
for which they are in society. What I have said here
concerning the legislative in general, holds true also con-
cerning the supreme executor who acts contrary to his
trust, when he either employs the force, treasure, and
offices of the society, to corrupt the representatives, and
gain them to his purposes; or openly pre-engages the
electors, and prescribes to their choice such whom he has
by solicitations, threats, promises, or otherwise, won to his
designs; and employs them to bring in such who have
promised beforehand what to vote, and what to enacU -
Locke*
133 SOCIAL OBLIGATIONS.
When men fall under despotism, they are bound to
make efforts to shake it off; and those efforts are, at that
period, the only property the unfortunate people have left.
The height of misery is, not to be able to free ourselves
from it, and to suffer without daring to complain. Where
is the man barbarous and stupid enough to give the name
of peace to the silence and forced tranquillity of slavery ?
It is indeed peace, but it is the peace of the tomb. Hel-
vetius.
Since the king or magistrate holds his authority of the
people, for their good, and not his own, then may the
people, as oft as they shall judge it for the best, either
choose him or reject him, retain him or depose him, though
no tyrant, merely by the liberty and right of free-born men
to be governed as seems to them best. Milton.
CHAPTER VII.
SOCIAL OBLIGATIONS.
WE are obliged to act, so far as our power reacheth,
towards the good of the whole community. And he who
doth not perform the part assigned him towards advancing
the benefit of the whole, in proportion to his opportunities
and abilities, is not only an useless, but a very mischievous
member of the public ; because he takes his share of the
profit, and yet leaves his share of the burden to be borne
by others, which is the true principal cause of most of the
miseries and misfortunes of life. Swift.
Were any individual acting alone, unassociated with
others, the only rational standard, it would appear, by
which his actions could be estimated, would be their ten-
dency to produce to him preponderant good, calculating
all their consequences, good and evil, immediate or remote,
and drawing a fair balance. Those actions are the best
which tend to produce to the agent the greatest quantity
of happiness ; happiness of which pleasures, physical and
intellectual, are the component parts. No intelligent and
benevolent being (and all beings really intelligent must
be benevolent) would wish that any isolated rational
SOCIAL OBLIGATIONS. 139
creature should act otherwise. The will is necessarily
influenced by the strongest motives presented to it ; and
those motives are the necessary result of antecedent cir-
cumstances. Suppose this individual associated with others.
What should be the rule of his conduct ? His first prin-
ciple to acquire the greatest quantity of happiness for
himself remains unchanged; but his mode of action, in
order to attain that end, must vary, because the circum-
stances surrounding him have changed. The consequences
of his actions are now far different from what they were :
they affect the happiness of others, as well as his own : re-
actions on the part of those others are produced : compli-
cations of action and reaction ensue. Repeated experience
proves to the individual associated with others, that in
order, under his altered circumstances, to produce for him-
self the greatest happiness, he must enlarge his calculation
of consequences : he must calculate the good and evil,
immediate and remote, physical, social, and intellectual,
proceeding from his actions, on all those with whom he is
associated, or who are within the range of their influence,
as well as on himself. He must seek his happiness in
connection with that of his society : he must ascertain the
preponderant good of his actions as affecting every one,
himself included, liable to be affected by them, and act so
as to produce the greatest balance of good or happiness.
Why ought he so to act ? Because, by so acting he will
procure a greater sum of happiness to himself than by any
other mode of acting. This supposes that all external
force is removed, and that his associates act in a similar
manner. The modification of his conduct, however, ren-
dered necessary bv irrational conduct in others, will be
very trifling, and chiefly prudential, to guard calmly against
evil. Thompson.
No father can transmit to his son the right of being
useless to his fellow-creatures. In a state of society, where
every man must be necessarily maintained at the expense
of the community, he certainly owes the state so much
labour as will pay for his subsistence, and this without
exception of rank or person. Rich or poor, strong or
weak, every idle citizen is a knave. The man who earns
not his subsistence, but who eats the bread of idleness, is
no better than a thief; and a pensioner who is paid by
the state for doing nothing, differs little from a robber who
140 SOCIAL OBLIGATIONS.
is supported by the plunder he makes on the highway.
Rousseau.
In the hive of human society, to preserve order and
justice, and to banish vice and corruption, it is necessary
that all the individuals be equally employed, and obliged
to concur equally in the general good ; and that the labour
be equally divided among them. If there be any whose
riches and birth exempt them from all employment, there
will be divisions and unhappiness in the hive. Their idle-
ness is destructive of the general welfare. Helvetius.
Every man is entitled, so far as the general stock will
suffice, not only to the means of being, but of well-being.
It is unjust, if one man labour to the destruction of his
health, that another may abound in luxuries. It is unjust,
if one man be deprived of leisure to cultivate his rational
powers, while another man contributes not a single effort
to add to the common stock. The faculties of one man
are like the faculties of another. Justice directs, that each,
unless perhaps he be employed more beneficially to the
public, should contribute to the cultivation of the common
harvest, of which each consumes a share. This reciprocity
is of the very essence of justice. Godwin.
PART III.
OF THE SOURCE, CREATION, AND
DISTRIBUTION OF WEALTH.
GOD has given the earth to the children of men, and
he has, undoubtedly, in giving it to them, given them what
is abundantly sufficient for all their exigencies: not a
scanty, but a most liberal provision for them all. The
Author of our nature has written it strongly in that na-
ture, and has promulgated the same law in his written
Word, that man shall eat his bread by his labour; and I
am persuaded that no man, and no combinations of men,
for their own ideas of their particular profit, can, without
great impiety, undertake to say, that he shall not do so ;
that they have no sort of right either to prevent the labour,
or to withhold the bread. Burke.
CHAPTER I.
OF LABOUR.
THE soil, say the Economists, is the source of all
wealth. But, to prevent this assertion from leading us
into erroneous conclusions, it will be necessary to explain
it. The materials of all wealth originate primarily in the
bosom of the earth ; but it is only by the aid of labour that
they can ever truly constitute wealth. The earth fur-
nishes the means of wealth ; but wealth itself cannot pos-
sibly have any existence, unless through that industry and
labour which modifies, divides, connects, and combines the
various productions of the soil, so as to render them fit
for consumption. Commerce, indeed, regards those rude
142 CREATION OF LABOUR.
productions as real wealth ; but it is only from the consi-
deration, that the proprietor has it always in his power to
convert them, at will, into consumable goods, by submit-
ting them to the necessary operations of manufacture.
They possess, as yet, merely the virtual value of a pro-
missory note, which passes current, because the bearer is
assured that he can, at pleasure, convert it into cash.
Many gold mines, which are well known, are not worked,
because their whole produce would not cover the inci-
dental expenses ; but the gold which they contain is, in
reality, the same with that of our coin ; and yet no one
would be foolish enough to call it wealth, for there is no
probability it will ever be extracted from the mine, or
purified ; and, of course, it possesses no value. The wild
fowl becomes wealth the moment it is in possession of the
sportsman ; while those of the very same species, that
have escaped his attempts, remain without any title to the
term. M. Gamier.
Every necessary, convenience, and comfort of life is
obtained by human labour. 1st, By labour in cultivating
the earth itself. 2d, By labour in preparing^ making fit,
and appropriating the produce of the earth to the purposes
of life. 3d, By labour in distributing the produce of both
the former kinds of labour. These are the three grand
occupations of life ; to which may be added three others ;
the government or protection of society; the office of
amusing and instructing mankind ; arid the medical profes-
sion. Every member of the community who is not en-
gaged in one of the two former classes of occupation is an
UNPRODUCTIVE member of society. Every unproductive
member of society is a DIRECT TAX upon the productive
classes. Every unproductive member of society is also an
USELESS member of society, unless he gives an EQUIVALENT
for that which he consumes. Gray.
The produce of labour constitutes the natural recom-
pense 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 be-
longs to the labourer. He has neither landlord nor mas-
ter to share with him. Had this state continued, the
wages of labour would have augmented with all those im-
provements in its productive powers, to which the division
of labour gives occasion. All things would gradually have
THE DIVISION OF LABOUR. 143
become cheaper. They would have been produced by a
smaller quantity of labour ; and as the commodities pro-
duced 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 As soon as the land becomes pri-
vate 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 pro-
duce of the labour which is employed upon the land.
Adam Smith.
Productive labour, as that of the manufacturer, adds to
the value of the subject on which it is bestowed. Unpro-
ductive labour, as that of the menial servant, has no such
effect. The manufacturer is no expense to his master, his
wages being restored with a profit. The maintenance of
a menial servant never is restored. The labour of the
latter, however, has its value. The labour of the manu-
facturer realizes itself in some vendible commodity which
lasts after the labour is past : that of the menial servant
perishes in the very instant of performance.
The labour of some of the most respectable orders of
society is like that of menial servants. The sovereign, and
all the officers of justice and war, are unproductive la-
bourers. They are servants of the public, and maintained
by the industry of the people. Their service produces
nothing for which an equal quantity of service can after-
wards be procured. In the same class must be ranked,
churchmen, lawyers, physicians, men of letters, players,
buffoons, opera singers, &c. Productive and unproductive
labourers, and those who do not labour at all, are all main-
tained by the annual produce of the country. This pro-
duce has its limits, and is the effect of productive labour.
Idem.
SECTION I.
THE DIVISION OF LABOUR.
THE greatest improvement in the productive powers of
labour, and the greater part of the skill with which it is
144 CREATION OF WEALTH.
anywhere directed or applied, seem to have been the
effects of the division of labour. These effects, in the
business of society, will be better understood by consider-
ing how it operates in some particular manufactures.
It is commonly supposed that the division of labour is
carried farthest in some trifling manufactures, which is pro-
bably an error founded upon this circumstance ; that the
number of workmen, in every branch of these manufac-
tures, being small, may be collected in the same work-
house, and placed at once under the view of the spectator ;
whereas in those manufactures destined to supply the great
wants of the people, we can seldom see, at once y more than
those employed in one single branch. Therefore, the divi-
sion may be greater, arid yet not so obvious.
Example. A person unacquainted with the business of
pin-making, could scarcely make a single pin a day ; but
by dividing the business into various branches, which are
now distinct trades, each person may be considered as
making 4,800 pins in one day.
In all other manufactures the effects of the division of la-
bour are similar to what they are in this, though they may
not be reducible to so great simplicity : hence the increase
of the productive powers of labour; the advantages of
which have caused the separation of different employ-
ments. This separation is carried farthest in countries
most improved : what is the work of one man in a rude
state of society, being, generally, that of several in an im-
proved one. Hence the different trades in the woollen and
linen manufactures, from the growers of the wool or flax,
to the dressers of the cloth.
Agriculture does not admit of so many subdivisions of
labour as manufactures ; the different sorts of labour, in
the former, returning with the seasons, no man can be con-
stantly employed in any one of them ; hence its unim-
? roved state, in all countries, compared with manufactures.
n agriculture, the labour of the rick country is not always
much more productive than that of the poor. The corn
of Poland is generally as good, and as cheap, as that of
England, notwithstanding the improved state of the latter.
But in manufactures, Poland can pretend to no such com-
petition.
The increase in the quantity of work, which, in conse*
DIVISION OF LABOUR. 145
querice of the division of labour, the same number of peo-
ple are capable of performing, is owing to three different
circumstances.
(1.) To the increase of dexterity in every particular
workman ; by reducing- every man's business to one simple
operation, and by making this operation the sole employ-
ment of his life. A common smith, unaccustomed to the
making of nails, cannot make more than two or three hun-
dred nails a day ; whereas lads, under twenty years of age,
who never exercised any other trade but that of making
nails, can make 2,300 nails in a day. Neither is this one
of the simplest operations, and of course not one where the
dexterity of the workman is the greatest.
(2.) To the saving of the time which is commonly lost
in passing from one species of work to another. It is im-
possible to pass very quickly from one kind of work to
another. A country weaver, who cultivates a small farm,
must lose a deal of time in passing from the loom to the
field. A man commonly saunters a little in turning his
hand from one employment to another ; and when he first
begins the new work, it is seldom with spirit ; hence the
habit of indolent, careless application acquired by every
country workman, who is obliged to change his tools and
work every half-hour.
(3.) Labour is much abridged by the application of pro-
per machinery. The invention of those machines, by
which labour is so much facilitated and abridged, seems
to have been owing to the division of labour : for men are
likely to discover the readier methods of attaining any
object, when their whole attention is directed towards that
single object. It is natural also, that out of many work-
men employed in each branch of labour, some one or
other should find the readiest method of performing his
own particular work. It is a fact, that a great part of the
machines, used in those manufactures in which labour is
most sub-divided, were the inventions of common work-
men. In steam engines, one of the greatest improvements
was discovered by a boy who wanted to save his labour.
Many improvements in machinery have been made by
the ingenuity of the makers of machines ; and not a few
by philosophers, or men of speculation ; whose trade is not
to do any thing, but to observe every thing. Philosophy,
like other employments, is not only a trade, but is subdi-
X. L
146 CREATION OF WEALTH.
vided into several classes, which, as in every other business,
improves dexterity, and saves time.
The advantages attending the " division of labour,"
may be supposed to have been discovered in the following;
manner. On the discovery of agriculture, a society of
hunters was probably dissolved, by each man fixing his
abode on the spot of land which he cultivated for the sub-
sistence of himself and family. The reason which induced
the hunters to abandon their village, and break up their
society, would be, that the labour of carrying the corn to
their village might be saved, by each man residing on the
spot where his corn grew. Each man will then have to
labour on the land, and to manufacture his farming imple-
ments, his clothing, and his lodging : whilst such a state
of things continues, it is manifest that all these arts will re-
main in the rudest state. But Nature has laid down laws
for the perpetual improvement of the human race ; and
men cannot fail to be constantly adding to their know-
ledge, of the arts in particular. It, will soon happen, that
one of these isolated men can make better farming imple-
ments than his neighbours, and can also make them more
expeditiously. A certain number of his neighbours will
agree to cultivate his farm, on condition of his supplying
them with farming implements. Mutual advantage will
occasion this agreement : the expert maker of farming im-
plements will perceive, that it costs him less labour to
make those implements, than to cultivate his farm ; and
his neighbours will perceive, that it costs them less labour
to cultivate his farm, than to make their own farming im-
plements. The expert maker of clothes, and the expert
house-builder, will have their farms cultivated for them, on
similar conditions, and for the same reasons. The popu-
lation of a neighbourhood will then be divided into four
classes, agriculturists, clothiers, builders, and manufacturers
of farming implements ; and as each of them now gives
his undivided attention to a single object, it will soon hap-
pen, that each man's dexterity in his business will have
so increased, that an agriculturist can produce a given
quantity of food, with one-half the labour it would cost a
clothier ; and that a clothier can manufacture a given quan-
tity of clothing with one-half of the labour it would cost
an agriculturist. When things have arrived at this state,
four men will be able to produce as much necessaries as
PRODUCTIVE LABOUR. 147
eight men could before : and consequently the country
would become twice as wealthy or powerful. Those men
who are not agriculturists will probably collect themselves
into a village ; the labour of transporting their food to the
village, will be compensated by the convenience arising
from all the artizans being collected on one spot.
Edwards.
SECTION II.
PRODUCTIVE LABOUR.
THE annual labour of every nation is the fund which
originally supplies it with all the necessaries and conve-
niences of lite which it annually consumes, and which con-
sist always either in the immediate produce of that labour,
or in what is purchased with that produce from other na-
tions. 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 conveniences for which it has occasion. But this pro-
portion must in every nation be regulated by two different
circumstances : first, by the skill, dexterity, and judgment
M-ith which its labours 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 scan-
tiness of its annual supply must, in that particular situa-
tion, depend upon those two circumstances. Adam Smith.
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 Idem.
All useful labour all labour contributing to the power
of a people, is engaged in the attainment of plain food,
clothing, and lodging, together with national defence.
L 2
148 CREATION OF WEALTH.
Wealth properly consists in the abundance of the above-
mentioned necessaries. Luxuries have frequently been
mistaken for wealth, because they are often found asso-
ciated with power : a reflecting mind, however, cannot fail
to perpeive that luxuries are only the effect of an abund-
ance of necessaries, or real wealth. The mental labour of
agriculturists, chemists, machinists, and philosophers, di-
rected towards the improvement of the means of obtaining
these necessaries, is evidently useful labour ; for, by improve-
ment in the useful arts, a given quantity of labour will
produce a larger quantity of necessaries. -Edmonds.
Food, clothing, furniture, habitations, the implements or
tools of labour, machinery of all kinds, the variety of in-
struments and implements necessary to conduct, promote,
and improve the sciences ; and, indeed, every other article
of use and enjoyment which can come under the denomi-
nation of wealth, are all, exclusively, the product of hu-
man labour. It is true there are some things necessary to
our existence and happiness that require no labour to ap-
propriate them to our use and benefit ; but these for that
very reason are not esteemed wealth ; they are generally
common blessings, and where tyrants do not or cannot in-
terfere, are evidently intended for the equal enjoyment and
benefit of all. Thus, for instance, the air we breathe,
though necessary to our existence, yet is not wealth ; be-
cause no labour is required to appropriate it to the use of
man. Neither is light wealth, for the same reason, though
equally necessary and beneficial ; unless, in the absence of
natural light, an artificial one is wanted, when the labour
required to prepare the oil or other substances from which
it is obtained, gives it a value, and constitutes it wealth.
Water, where it is abundant, and can be appropriated to
use without labour, is not wealth ; but if it fail, or become
scarce in any place where there are numerous inhabitants
or collections of people, it there becomes in demand ; it is
accordingly, if possible, brought from a distance, and the
labour of transportation turns it into wealth.
The operations of the working or wealth-producing class
are two-fold, consisting of productive and official labour.
The first is that which produces or brings into existence
some real, tangible article of wealth ; as, for instance, a
loaf of bread, a coat, a table, &c. ; the latter is necessary
in effecting exchanges of these different articles ; in trans-
UNPRODUCTIVE LABOUR. 149
porting them from one country, district, or place, to ano-
ther, as circumstances may require ; and in various modes
of preparing them for man's use. Those employed in
these latter operations are as useful and necessary to the
happiness of the community as those actually employed in
productive labour, inasmuch as these exchanges and trans-
portations constitute the means of supplying to each indi-
vidual almost innumerable articles of use, comfort, and
convenience, which otherwise could not be obtained.
There is, however, a class of men, which we must by no
means confound with these official labourers, I mean such
as effect exchanges by proxy, without working at all them-
selves ; and who accumulate the wealth which other peo-
ple's labour has created, through the medium of profit.
These will be noticed in their proper place.
It is probable that productive labourers (taking the vast
number of mechanical and manufacturing, as well as agri-
cultural, occupations into consideration) are far more nu-
merous in this country than official labourers. Be this as
it may, these together constitute the WORKING CLASS, and
as such, come equally under the notice of this address ;
there is no wealth in the nation but is either created or
acquired by exchange, solely and exclusively through the
labours of this class. They furnish every individual in
the nation with all the real wealth, whether it be food,
clothing, furniture, habitation, or any other article of con-
venience or luxury which it is possible for him to enjoy.
Anon.
SECTION III.
UNPRODUCTIVE LABOUR.
LUXURY and extravagance, we are told, " makes good
for trade ;" and under the present system it does so.
But, can any rational being suppose that society is founded
on right principles, when we find its effects are to render
luxury and extravagance advantageous ? Have we really
brought our minds to suppose, that the more we squander,
the more we shall have ? Are we for ever to be told, that
the man who is spending thousands in the gratification of
some absurd whim, is doing good, because he circulates
150 CREATION OF WEALTH.
money amongst tradesmen, and because he furnishes em-
ployment for a number of working men ? Every labouring
man, so employed, is a useless member of society, for the
produce of his labour is useless ; and the effect is, a direct
tax on the productive labourer usefully employed. This
state of things will have an end; the system is as weak as
it is absurd and destructive There is nothing like in-
stances.
The manufacture of lace is now brought to great per-
fection in this country. In some instances, a single dress
is worth 100/. or more. That is, it may really have cost
so much of the time and labour of an industrious man,
that it would not pay his employer a reasonable profit to
sell it for a less sum. Now, are we to consider the maker
of such dresses a useful member of society, because by his
labour a family is provided with the necessaries of life,
during the time he is so employed ? Most certainly not.
The lace dress is the produce of his labour, and it is use-
less. It can neither be eaten nor drunk ; and it forms no
part of useful wearing apparel. It is made only to please
the fancy, and to be'looked at. It will not compare, in
point of real utility, with a penny loaf, or a glass of cold
water. The provisions that the maker of it has been con-
suming, the clothes that he has been wearing, and the
house that he has been occupying, are the produce of other
men's labour, not of his ; and this useless, senseless play-
thing is the artifice by which he is enabled to supply him-
self with those necessaries which he requires, from the
labour of others; who receive in exchange for them
what ? A lace dress ? A carriage ? An elegant mansion ?
No, none of these. A small sum of money, sufficient only
to enable them to re-purchase about one-fifth part of the
produce of their own labour, or of the equivalent labour of
others ! What, we would ask, does the purchaser of such
a dress give for it ? He gives one hundred pounds, taken,
perhaps, by the rent of land, out of the produce of the in-
dustry of the agricultural labourer. He gives of that which
is strictly his own, nothing ! No ! not the value of a straw.
And what does the labourer give for his scanty pittance ?
He gives the remaining fifth of the produce of his industry,
of which he has not been defrauded and why ? Not be-
r cause any protection is afforded to it by the existing ar-
angements of society ; but, because without it he could
CAPITAL. 151
not even exist, to be the slave of others. The rich man,
who, in fact, pays nothing, receives every thing ; while
the poor man, who, in point of fact, pays every thing,
receives nothing ! Gray.
CHAPTER II.
CAPITAL.
CAPITAL is wealth employed in the production of other
wealth. Political economists divide capital into two
kinds. 1. Fixed capital: 2. Circulating capital; or what,
without encroaching on their capital, they can place in
their stock reserved for immediate consumption. Fu-ed
capital consists of the tools and instruments the labourer
works with, the machinery he makes and guides, and the
buildings he uses either to facilitate his exertions, or to
protect their produce. The intention of this description
of capital is to increase the productive powers of labour.
Circulating capital consists of money, provisions, materials,
and finished work ; and its intention and use is to aid the
labourer in producing those things upon which he is em-
ployed.
Throughout the world, there exists a serious contest
between capital and labour. The claims of capital are
sanctioned by almost universal custom ; and as long as the
labourer did not feel himself aggrieved by them, it was of
no use opposing them with arguments. But now, when
the practice excites resistance, we are bound, if possible,
to overthrow the theory on which it is founded and justi-
fied. It is accordingly against this theory that my argu-
ments will be directed. Wages vary inversely as profits ;
or wages rise when profits fall, and profits rise when wages
fall ; and it is therefore profits, or the capitalist's share of
the national produce, which is opposed to wages, or the
share of the labourer. The theory on which profits are
claimed, and which holds up capital and accumulation of
capital to our admiration as the main spring of human im-
provement, is that which the labourers must, in their own
interest, examine, and must, before they can have any hope
152 CREATION OF WEALTH.
of a permanent improvement in their own condition be able
to refute. They must be able to show the hollowness of
the theory on which the claims of capital, and on which
all the oppressive laws made for its protection are founded.
" The produce of the earth," says Mr. Ricardo, " all
that is derived from its surface by the united application of
labour, machinery, and capital, is divided among 1 three
classes of the community ; namely, the proprietor of the
land, the owner of the stock or capital necessary for its
cultivation, and the labourers by whose industry it is culti-
vated."*
" It is self-evident," says Mr. M'Culloch, "that only
three classes, the labourers, the possessors of capital, and
the proprietors of land, are ever directly concerned in the
production of commodities. It is to them, therefore, that
all which is derived from the surface of the earth, or from
its bowels, by the united application of immediate labour,
and of capital, or accumulated labour, must primarily be-
long. The other classes of society have no revenue ex-
cept what they derive either voluntarily or by compulsion
from these three classes."
The proportions in which the whole produce is divided
among- these three classes is said to be as follows : " Land
is of different degrees of fertility." " When in the progress
of society, land of the second quality (or an inferior degree
of fertility to land before cultivated) is taken into cultiva-
tion, rent immediately commences on that of the first qua-
lity, and the amount of that rent will depend on the dif-
ference in the quality of these two portions of land."-j-
Rent, therefore, or that quantity of the whole produce of
the country which goes to the landlords, is, in every stage
of society, that portion of this produce which is obtained
from every district belonging to a politically organized
nation, more than is obtained from the least fertile land
cultivated by or belonging to that nation. It is the greater
produce of all the land which is more fertile than the least
fertile land cultivated. To produce this surplus would not
break the back, and to give it up would not break the heart
* Principle of Pol. Econ. 2d edit, preface, p. 1.
t Principles of Pol. Econ. This theory of rent has been ex-
ploded by the author of the Catechism on the Corn Laws , but
the error is not material to the arguments that follow.
CAPITAL. 153
of the labourer. The landlord's share, therefore, does not
keep the labourer poor.
The labourer's share of the produce of a country, ac-
cording to this theory, is the " necessaries and conveni-
ences required for the support of the labourer and his fa-
mily ; or that quantity which is necessary to enable the
labourers, one with another, to subsist and to perpetuate their
race, without either increase or diminution." Whatever
may be the truth of the theory in other respects, there is no
doubt of its correctness in this particular. The labourers
do only receive, and ever have only received, as much as
will subsist them ; the landlords receive the surplus pro-
duce of the more fertile soils, and all the rest of the whole
produce of labour in this and in every country, goes to the
capitalist, under the name of profit for the use of his
capital.
Capital which thus engrosses the whole produce of a
country, except the bare subsistence of the labourer, and
the surplus produce of fertile land, is, " the produce of
labour," " is commodities," " is the food the labourer eats,
and the machines he uses ;" so that we are obliged to give
that enormous portion of the whole produce of the coun-
try which remains, after we have been supplied with sub-
sistence, and the rent of the landlord has been paid for the
privilege of eating the food we have ourselves produced,
and of using our own skill in producing more. Capital,
the reader will suppose, must have some wonderful pro-
perties, when the labourer pays so exorbitantly for it. In
fact, its claims are founded on its wonderful properties,
and to them, therefore, I mean especially to direct his
attention.
Several writers have endeavoured to point out the me-
thod in which capital aids production.
Mr. M'Culloch says, " The accumulation and employ-
ment of both fixed and circulating capital is indispensably
necessary to elevate any nation in the scale of civilization.
And it is only by their conjoined and powerful operationth&t
wealth can be largely produced and universally diffused."*
" The quantity of industry," he further says, " there-
fore, not only increases in every country with the increase
of the stock or capital which sets it in motion ; but, in con_
* Article Political Economy in Supplement to Ency. Britan.
154 CREATION OF WEALTH.
sequence of this increase, the division of labour becomes
extended, new and more powerful implements and machines
are invented, and the same quantity of labour is thus made
to produce an infinitely greater quantity of commodities.
Besides its effect in enabling labour to be divided, capital
contributes to facilitate labour, and produce wealth in the
three following ways: First, It enables us to execute
work that could not be executed, or to produce commo-
dities that could not be produced without it. Second, It
saves labour in the production of almost every species of
commodities. Third, It enables us to execute work bet-
ter, as well as more expeditionary."
Mr. Mill's account of these effects, though not so pre-
cise, is still more astounding. " The labourer," he says,
(page 40,) " has neither raw materials nor tools. These
are provided .for him by the capitalist. For making this
provision, the capitalist of course expects a reward." Ac-
cording to this statement the capitalist provides for the
labourer, and only, therefore, expects a profit. In other
parts of his book it is not the capitalist who provides, but
the capital which works. He speaks of capital as an in-
strument of production co-operating with labour, as an
active agent combining with labour to produce commo-
dities, and thus he satisfies himself, and endeavours to
prove to the reader, that capital is entitled to all that large
share of the produce it actually receives. He also attri-
butes to capital power of accumulation. This power or
tendency to accumulate, he adds, is not so great as the
tendency of population to augment and on the difference
between these two tendencies he and other authors have
erected a theory of society which places poor mother
Nature in no favourable light.
I shall now proceed to examine the effects of capital ; and
I shall begin with circulating capital. Mr. M'Cuiloch says,
" without circulating capital," meaning the food the la-
bourer consumes, and the clothing he wears, " the labourer
never could engage in any undertaking which did not
yield an almost immediate return." Afterwards, he says,
" that division of labour is a consequence of previous accu-
mulation of capital;" and he quotes the following passage
jfrom Dr. Smith, as a proper expression of his own opi-
nions :
" Before labour can be divided, ' a stock of goods of
CAPITAL. 155
different kinds must be stored up somewhere, sufficient to
maintain the labourer, and to supply him with the mate-
rials and tools for carrying 1 on his work. A weaver, for
example, could not apply himself entirely to his peculiar
business, unless there was beforehand stored up some-
where, either in his own possession, or in that of some
other person, a stock sufficient for his maintenance, and for
supplying him with the materials and implements required
to carry on his work, till he has not only completed, but
sold his web. This accumulation must evidently be pre-
vious to his applying- himself for so long a time to a pecu-
liar business.' "
The only advantage of circulating capital is, that by it
the labourer is enabled, he being assured of his present
subsistence, to direct his power to the greatest advantage.
He has time to learn an art, and his labour is rendered
more productive when directed by skill. Being assured of
immediate subsistence, he can ascertain which, with his
peculiar knowledge and acquirements, and with reference
to the wants of society, is the best method of labouring,
and he can labour in this manner. Unless there were this
assurance there could be no continuous thought, no inven-
tion, and no knowledge but that which would be necessary
for the supply of our immediate animal wants. The wea-
ver, I admit, could not complete his web, nor would the
shipwright begin to build a ship, unless he knew that while
he was engaged in this labour he should be able to pro-
cure food. A merchant certainly could not set out for
South America or the East Indies unless he were confi-
dent that during the period of his absence, he and his
family could find subsistence, and that he would be able at
the end of his voyage to pay all the expenses he had in-
curred. It is this assurance, this knowledge, this confi-
dence of obtaining subsistence and reward, which enables
and induces men to undertake long and complicated opera-
tions ; and the question is, do men derive this assurance,
from a stock of goods already provided, (saved from the
produce of previous labour,) and ready to pay them, or
from any other source ?
/ shall endeavour to show that this assurance arises from a
general principle in the constitution of man, and that the
effects attributed to a stock of commodities, under the name of
circulating capital, are caused by co-existing labour.
156 CREATION OF WEALTH.
The labourer, the real maker of any commodity, derives
this assurance from a knowledge he has that the person
who sets him to work will pay him, and that with the
money he will be able to buy what he requires. He is not
in possession of any stock of commodities. Has the per-
son who employs him and pays him such a stock ? Clearly
not. Only a very few capitalists possess any of those
commodities which the labourers they employ consume.
Farmers may have a stock of corn, and merchants and
ship-owners may have a few weeks' or months' supply of
provisions for their seamen, according to the length of the
voyage they are to undertake ; but, beyond this, no capi-
talist possesses, ready prepared, the commodities which his
labourers require. He possesses money, he possesses
credit with other capitalists, he possesses, under the sanc-
tion of the law, a power over the labour of the slave-
descended labourer, but he does not possess food or
dothing. He pays the labourer his money-wages, and
the expectation which other labourers have of receiving
part of these wages, or other wages, induces them in the
meantime to prepare the clothing and food the labourer
constantly requires. Not to deal, however, in general
terms and abstractions, doing which seems to have led
other writers astray, let us descend to particulars.
A great cotton manufacturer we will suppose, for ex-
ample, a Sir Robert Peel, or any other of those leviathans,
who are so anxious to retain their power over us, and who,
as legislators, either in their own persons or in the persons
of their sons, make the laws which both calumniate and
oppress us employs a thousand persons, whom he pays
weekly ; does he possess the food and clothing ready pre-
pared which these persons purchase and consume daily ?
Does he even know whether the food and clothing they
require are prepared or created ? In fact, are the food
and clothing which his labourers will consume prepared
beforehand, or are other labourers busily employed in pre-
paring food and clothing while his labourers are making
cotton-yarn ? Do all the capitalists of Europe possess at
this moment one week's food and clothing for all the
labourers they employ ? No such thing. One portion of
the food of the people is bread, which is never prepared
till within a few hours of the time when it is eaten. For
the cotton-spinner to be able to attend only to his peculiar
CAPITAL. 157
species of industry, it is indispensable that other men should
be constantly engaged in completing this complicated pro-
cess, every part of it being as necessary as the part per-
formed by the agriculturalist. His conviction that he will
obtain bread when he requires it, and his master's convic-
tion, that the money he pays him will enable him to obtain
it, arise simply from the fact that the bread has always
been obtained when required. Another article of the
labourer's food is milk, and milk is manufactured, not to
speak irreverently of the operations of nature, twice a-day.
The meat, also, which the labourer eats, is not ready even
for cooking, till it is on the shambles; and it cannot be
stored up, for it begins instantly to deteriorate after it is
brought to market. The cattle which are to be slaughtered
require the same sort of care and attention as cows ; and
not one particle of meat could the cotton-spinner ever
procure, were not the farmer, the grazier, and the drover
continually at work, preparing meat while he is preparing
cotton. But after the meat is brought to market, it is not
even then ready for consumption. We are not cannibals ;
and either our wives, or some labourer who makes this his
business, completes the preparation of the meat only a few
hours, or even minutes, before it is eaten. Of the drink
of the labourer, that which is supplied by nature never
ceases to flow. His beer is prepared only so long before
it is drunk as is necessary to have it good ; and, while the
existing stock is disposing of, the brewer is busy creating a
fresh supply. There may probably be as much tea im-
ported at one time as serves for a few months, and, while
this stock is consuming, ships are continually arriving with
more.
Other examples might be brought from every branch of
industry, if it were necessary to examine each one in de-
tail, for, in this respect, every labourer is similarly situated.
The farmer knows he will be able to get clothes when he
requires them, and the tailor knows he will be able to get
food ; but the former knows nothing of any stored-up stock
of clothes, and the latter nothing of any stored-up stock of
provisions. The labourer knows that when he is able
to pay for bread, meat, and for drink, he can procure
them, but he knows nothing further ; and I have shown
that these are not prepared till he needs them. As far as
food, drink, and clothing are concerned, it is quite plain,
then, that no species of labourer depends on any previously
158 CREATION OF WEALTH.
prepared stock, for in fact no such stock exists ; but every
species of labourer does constantly, and at all times, depend
for his supplies on the co-existing labour of some other
labourers.
To enable either the master manufacturer or the labourer
to devote himself to any particular occupation, it is only
necessary that he should possess not as political econo-
mists say a stock of commodities, or circulating- capital,
but a conviction that while he is labouring at his particular
occupation, the things which he does not produce himself
will be provided for him, and that he will be able to pro-
cure them, and pay for them, by the produce of his own
labour. This conviction arises, in the first instance, with-
out any reflection, from habit. As we expect that the sun
will rise to-morrow, so we also expect that men in all time
to come, will be actuated by the same motives as they have
been in times past. If we push our inquiries still further,
all that we can learn is, that there are other men in exist-
ence who are preparing those things we need, while we
are preparing those which they need. The conviction may,
perhaps, ultimately be traced then to our knowledge that
other men exist and labour, but never to any conviction or
knowledge that there is a stored-up stock of commodities.
It is labour which produces all things as they are wanted,
and the only thing which can be said to be stored-up or
previously prepared, is the skill of the labourer. Where
that skill exists, these commodities may always be pro-
cured when wanted.
Mr. Mill says, and says justly, " what is annually pro-
duced is annually consumed," so that, in fact, to enable
men to carry on all those operations which extend beyond
a year, there cannot be any stock of commodities stored
up. Those who undertake them must rely, therefore, not
on any commodities already created, but that other men
will labour and produce what they are to subsist on till
their own products are completed. Thus, should the
labourer admit that some accumulation of circulating capi-
tal is necessary for operations terminated within the year,
it is plain, that in all operations which extend beyond a
year, the labourer does not, and he cannot, rely on accu-
mulated capital.
Of all the important operations which require more than
a year to complete them, by far the most important is the
rearing of youth and teaching them skilled labour, or some
CAPITAL. 159
wealth-creating art. But this most important operation is
performed, as far as the great mass of the labourers are
concerned, without any circulating 1 capital whatever. The
labour of the parents produces and purchases, with what
they receive as wages, all the food and the clothing which
the rising generation of labourers use, while they are learn-
ing those arts by means of which they will hereafter pro-
duce all the wealth of society. For the rearing and edu-
cating all future labourers, their parents have no stock
stored up beyond their own practical skill. Under the
strong influence of natural affection and parental love,
they prepare by their toils, continued day after day, and
year after year, through all the long period of the infancy
and childhood of their offspring, those future labourers who
are to succeed to their toils and their hard fare, but who
will inherit their productive power, and be what they now
are, the main pillars of the social edifice.
If we duly consider the number and importance of those
wealth-producing operations which are not completed
within the year, and the numberless products of daily
labour, necessary to subsistence, which are consumed as
soon as produced, we shall, I think, be sensible that the
success and productive power of every different species of
labour is at all times more dependant on the co-existing
productive labour of other men, than on any accumulation
of circulating capital. The labourer, having no stock of
commodities, undertakes to bring up his children, and
teach them a useful art, always relying on his own labour ;
and various classes of persons undertake tasks, the produce
of which is not completed for a long period, relying on the
labour of other men to procure them, in the meantime,
what they require for subsistence. All classes of men
carry on their daily toils in the full confidence that while
each is engaged in his particular occupation, some others
will prepare whatever he requires, both for his immediate
and future consumption and use. This confidence arises
from that law of our nature by which we securely expect
the sun will rise to-morrow, and that our fellow-men will
labour on the morrow and during the next year, as they
have laboured during the year and the day which have
passed; and not from a knowledge of any produce of
previous labour stored up for use. It is by the command
the capitalist possesses over the labour of some men, not
160 CREATION OF WEALTH.
by his possessing a stock of commodities, that he is enabled
to support, and consequently employ other labourers.
I come now to examine, secondly, the nature and effects
of fixed capital. Fixed capital consists of the tools and
instruments the labourer works with, the machinery he
makes and guides, and the buildings he uses either to fa-
cilitate his exertions or to protect their produce. Unques-
tionably by using these instruments, man adds wonderfully
to his power. Without a hand-saw (a portion of fixed
capital) he could not cut a tree into planks ; with such an
instrument, he could, though it would cost him many hours
or days ; but with a saw-mill, he could do it in a few
minutes. Every man must admit that by means of instru-
ments and machines, the labourer can execute tasks he
could not possibly perform without them, that he can
perform a greater quantity of work in a given time, and
that he can perform the work with greater nicety and
accuracy, than he could possibly do had he no instruments
and machines. But the question then occurs, what pro-
duces instruments and machines, and in what degree do
they aid production, independent of the labourer, so that
the owners of them are entitled to by far the greater part
of the whole produce of the country ? Are they, or are
they not, the produce of labour? Do they, or do they
not, constitute an efficient means of production, separate
from labour ? Are they, or are they not, so much inert
decaying and dead matter, of no utility whatever, possess-
ing no productive power whatever, but as they are guided,
directed, and applied by skilful hands ?
It is admitted by those who contend most strenuously
for the claims of capital, that all instruments and machines
are the produce of labour. They add, however, that they
are the produce of previous labour, and are entitled to
profit, on account of having been saved or stored up. But
the manufacture of instruments and tools is quite as unin-
terrupted as the manufacture of food and clothing. They
are not all consumed or used within a year, but they are
brought into use as soon as possible after they are made.
Nobody who manufactures them stores them up ; nor does
he make them for this purpose. As long as they are merely
the result of previous labour, and are not applied to their
respective uses by labourers, they do not repay the expense
of making them. It is only when they are so applied that
CAPITAL. 161
they bring any profit. They are made solely for the use
of the labourer, and directly they come into his hands, they
return or repay the capitalist the sum they cost him ; and
over and above this, the labourer must give him an addi-
tional sum corresponding to the rate of profit in the country.
It is plainly not the previous creation of these things which
entitles them to profit, for most of them diminish in value
from being kept. Fixed capital does not derive its utility
from previous, but present labour ; and does not bring its
owner a profit because it has been stored up, but because
it is a means of obtaining a command over labour.
The production of fixed capital cannot be attributed to
circulating capital, in the ordinary sense; but certainly
those who make instruments must be confident they will
be able to obtain food, or they would never think of mak-
ing instruments. The smith, while he is making or mend-
ing the farmer's ploughshare, trusts to the farmer to do
his part in procuring a supply of food; and the farmer,
while he tills his fields, trusts to the smith to prepare for
him the necessary instruments. These instruments are
not the produce of circulating capital and of labour, but of
labour alone, and of the labour of two or more co-existing
persons. All fixed capital, not only in the first instance,
as is generally admitted, but in every stage of society, at
every period in the history of man, is the creation of labour
and of skill, of different species of labour and skill certainly,
but of nothing more than labour and skill.
After any instruments have been made, what do they
effect ? Nothing. On the contrary, they begin to rust or
decay unless used or applied by labour. The most per-
fect instrument which the cunning hand of man can make,
is not instinct with life, and it constantly needs the directing
hand of its creator, or of some other labourer. Whether
an instrument shall be regarded as productive capital or
not, depends entirely on its being used, or not, by some
productive labourer.
It has been asked, what could a carpenter effect without
his hatchet and his saw ? I put the converse of the ques-
tion, and ask what the hatchet and the saw could effect
without the carpenter ? Rust and rottenness must be the
answer. A plough or a scythe may be made with the
most cunning art, but to use either of them, a man must
have an adroit turn of the hand, or a peculiar species of
XI. M
162 ' THE PRODUCTION OF WEALTH.
skill. The shoemaker who can thrust awls through leather
with singular dexterity and neatness, cannot make any
use of a watchmaker's tools; and the most skilful and
dexterous maker of plane, saw, and chisel-blades, would
rind it difficult to construct with them any of that furniture
which the cabinet-maker forms with so much dispatch and
beautiful effect. Almost every species of workman, how-
ever, from having acquired a certain dexterity in the use
of his hands, and from having frequently seen the opera-
tions of other workmen, could learn the art of another
man much better than a person who had never practised
any kind of manual dexterity, and never seen it practised.
But if a skilled labourer could not direct any kind of
instruments so well as the man who has been constantly
accustomed to use them, it is plain that the whole pro-
ductive power of such instruments must depend altogether
on the peculiar skill of the artizan and mechanic, who has
been trained to practise different arts. Fixed capital, of
whatever species, then, is only a costly production, costly
to make, and costly to preserve, without that particular
species of skill and labour, which guides each instrument,
and which, as I have before shown, is nourished, instructed,
and maintained by wages alone. The utility of the instru-
ments the labourer uses, can in no wise be separated from
his skill. Whoever may be the owner of fixed capital
and in the present state of society he who makes it, is not,
and he who uses it, is not, it is the hand and knowledge
of the labourer which make it, preserve it from decay, and
which use it to any beneficial end.
For a nation to have fixed capital, then, and to make a
good use of it, three things, and only three things, seem
to be requisite. First, knowledge and ingenuity for in-
venting machines ; and no labourer would be disposed to
deny to these their reward. The second requisite is the
manual skill and dexterity for carrying these inventions
into execution. The third requisite is the skill and labour
to use these instruments after they are made. Without
knowledge they could not be invented, without manual
skill and dexterity they could not be made, and without
skill and labour they could not be productively used. But
there is nothing more than knowledge, skill, and labour
requisite, on which the capitalist can found a claim to any
share of the produce.
CAPITAL. 163
I have now shown that the effects attributed to circu-
lating capital, result from co-existing labour, and the
assurance common to each labourer, that he will be able
to procure what he wants; or that while he is at work,
other men are also at work. I have also shown that fixed
capital is produced by the skill of the labourer. Circulat-
ing capital, consisting of food and clothes, is created only
for consumption ; while fixed capital, consisting of instru-
ments and tools, is made not to be consumed, but to aid
the labourer in producing those things which are to be
consumed. There is no analogy between these two de-
scriptions of commodities, except that both are the produce
of labour, and both give the owner of them a profit.
There is, however, a striking difference between them,
which deserves to be noticed. It is usually stated, that
" the productive industry of any country is in proportion
to its capital, increases when its capital increases, and
declines when its capital declines." This position is true,
only of circulating capital, but not of fixed capital The
number of productive labourers depend certainly on the
quantity of food, clothing, &c., produced and appropriated
to their use ; it is not, however, the quantity but the quality
of the fixed capital on which the productive industry of a
country depends. Instruments are productive, to use the
improper language of the Political Economist, not in pro-
portion as they are multiplied, but as they are efficient.
It is probable, that since Mr. Watt's improvements on the
steam engine, one man can perform as much work with
these instruments as ten did before. As the efficiency of
the fixed capital is increased by men obtaining greater
knowledge and greater skill, it is quite possible, and is the
case, that a greater quantity of commodities, or a greater
means of nourishing and supporting men, is obtained with
less capital. Although, therefore, the number of labourers
must at all times depend on the quantity of circulating
capital or, on the quantity of the products of co-existing-
labour, which labourers are allowed to consume the quan-
tity of commodities they produce will depend on the
efficiency of their fixed capital. Circulating capital nou-
rishes and supports men as its quantity is increased ; fixed
capital as a means of nourishing 1 and supporting men,
depends, for its efficiency, altogether on the skill of the
labourer, and consequently the productive industry of a
M 2
164 THE PRODUCTION OF WEALTH.
country, as far as fixed capital is concerned, is in propor-
tion to the knowledge and skill of the people.
The warmest admirers of circulating capital will not
pretend that it adds in the same way as fixed capital to
the productive power of the labourer. The most extraor-
dinary visionary who ever wrote, cannot suppose circulat-
ing capital adds anything to productive power. The
degree and nature of the utility of both species of capital
is perfectly different and distinct. The labourer subsists
on what is called circulating capital ; he works with fixed
capital. But equal quantities, or equal values of both
these species of capital, bring their owner precisely the
same amount of profit. We may, from this single circum-
stance, be quite sure that the share claimed by the capitalist
for the use of fixed capital, is not derived from the instru-
ments increasing the efficiency of labour, or from the
utility of these instruments ; and profit is derived in both
cases from the power which the capitalist has over the
labourer who consumes the circulating, and who uses the
fixed capital. How he obtained this power I shall not
now inquire, further than to state, that it is derived from
the whole surface of the country having been at one period
monopolized by a few persons ; and the consequent state
of slavery in which the labourer formerly existed in this
country, as well as throughout Europe. As the profits of
the capitalist on fixed capital are not derived from the
utility of these instruments, it is useless to inquire what
share ought to belong to the owner of the wood and iron,
and what share ought to belong to the person who uses
them. He who makes the instruments is entitled, in the
eye of justice, and in proportion to the labour he employs,
to as great a reward as he who uses them ; but he is not
entitled to a greater ; and he who neither makes nor uses
them, has no just claim to any portion of the produce.
Betwixt him who produces food, and him who produces
clothing betwixt him who makes instruments, and him
who uses them in steps the capitalist, who neither makes
nor uses them, and appropriates to himself the produce of
both. With as niggard a hand as possible, he transfers to
each a part of the produce of the other, keeping to himself
the larger share. Gradually and successively has he in-
sinuated himself betwixt them, expanding in bulk as he
has been nourished by their increasingly productive labours,
CAPITAL. 165
and separating them so widely from each other, that ne>
ther can see whence that supply is drawn which each
receives through the capitalist. While he despoils both,
so completely does he exclude one from the view of the
other, that both believe they are indebted to him for sub-
sistence. He is the middle-man of all labourers ; and not
only does he appropriate the produce of the labourer, but
he has succeeded in persuading him that he is his benefac-
tor and employer. At least, such are the doctrines of
political economy; and capitalists may well be pleased
with a science which both justifies their claims, and holds
them up to our admiration, as the great means of civilizing
and improving the world.
To show the labourer the effects which bestowing this
abundant reward on the supposed productive powers of
food, clothing, and instruments, has on his poverty or
wealth, I must observe, that all political economists agree
in saying, that all savings in society are usually made by
capitalists. The labourer cannot save ; the landlord is not
disposed to save ; whatever is saved, is saved from profits,
and becomes the property of the capitalists. Now let us
suppose that a capitalist possesses, when profit is at 10 per
cent, per annum, 100 quarters of wheat, and 100 steam
engines, he must, at the end of a year, be paid for allowing
the labourer to eat this wheat, and use these steam engines,
with 1 10 quarters of wheat, and 110 steam engines, all in
the same excellent condition as the 100 steam engines were
at the beginning. It being an admitted principle, that,
after a portion of fixed capital is prepared, it must be paid
for at a rate sufficient to pay the ordinary rate of interest,
and provide for the repairs or the remaking of the instru-
ment. Let us suppose that five quarters of wheat and five
steam engines, or the value of this quantity, suffices for the
owner's consumption, and that the other five of his profit
being added to his capital, he has the next year one hun-
dred and five quarters of wheat, and one hundred and
five steam engines, which he allows labourers to eat or use;
for these the labourer must produce for him, the following
year, supposing the rate of profit to continue the same, a
sufficient sum to replace the whole of this capital, with the
interest, or 115 quarters four bushels of wheat, and 115
steam engines. Supposing that the value of the five quar-
ters and of five steam engines suffices for the consumption
106 THE PRODUCTION OF WEALTH.
of the capitalist, he will have the next year 110 quarters 4
bushels, and 110^ steam engines, for the use of which he
must be paid at the same rate ; or the labourer must pro-
duce and give him, the third year, 121 quarters and l-20th
of a quarter, and 121 steam engines and l-20th of a steam
engine. It is of no use calculating all these fractions, or
carrying the series further ; it is enough to observe, that
every atom of the capitalist's revenue, which he puts out
to use, or, as it is called, saves, which means given or lent
to labourers, goes on increasing at compound interest.
One penny put out to compound interest at our Saviour's
birth, at five per cent., would, in the year 1 791, amount to
a sum greater than could be contained in three hundred
millions of globes like this earth, all solid gold.
Perhaps I can make the evil effects of capital more appa-
rent by another sort of example. The real price of a coat,
or a pair of shoes, or a loaf of bread, all which nature
demands from man in order that he may have either of
these very useful articles, is a certain quantity of labour ;
how much it is almost impossible to say, from the manufac-
ture of a coat, a pair of shoes, or a loaf of bread, being
completed by many persons. But for the labourer to have
either of these articles, he must give over and above the
quantity of labour nature demands from him, a still larger
quantity to the capitalist. Before he can have a coat, he
must pay interest for the farmer's sheep, interest on the
wool after it has got into the hands of the wool merchant,
interest for this same wool as raw material, after it is in the
hands of the manufacturer, interest on all the buildings and
tools he uses, and interest on all the wages he pays his men.
Moreover he must pay interest or profit on the tailor's
stock, both fixed and circulating, and this rate of interest is
increased in all these instances by something more being
always necessaryto pay the rent of all these different capital-
ists. In the same manner, before a labourer can have a loaf of
bread, he must give a quantity of labour more than the loaf
costs, by all that quantity which pays the profit of the farmer,
the corn dealer, the miller, and the baker, with profit on
all the buildings they use ; and he must moreover pay with
the produce of his labour the rent of the landlord. How
much more labour a labourer must give to have a loaf
of bread than that loaf costs, it is impossible to say. I should
probably underrate it, were I to state it at six times; or
CAPITAL. 167
were I to say that the real cost of that loaf, for which the
labourer gives sixpence, is one penny. The Cora Laws,
execrable as they are in principle, and mischievous as they
are to the whole community, do not impose any thing like
so heavy a tax on the labourer as capital. Indeed, how-
ever injurious they may be to the capitalist, it may be
doubted whether they are so to the labourer. They dimi-
nish the rate of profit, but they do not in the end lower the
wages of labour. Whether there are Corn Laws or not,
the capitalist must allow the labourers to subsist, and as
long as his claims are granted, and acted on, he will never
allow him to do more. In other words, the labourer will
always have to give much about the same quantity of
labour to the capitalist for a loaf, whether that loaf be
the produce of one hour's or one day's labour.
What the capitalist really puts out to interest, however,
is not gold or money, but food, clothing, and instruments ;
and his demand is always to have more food, clothing, and
instruments produced than he puts out. No productive
power can answer this demand, and both the capitalists and
political economists find fault with the wisdom of nature,
because she refuses to minister to the avarice of the former,
and does not exactly square in her proceedings with the
latter.
. Of course the ultimate term to which compound interest
tends, can never be reached. Its progress is gradually but
perpetually checked, and it is obliged to stop far short of
the desired goal. Accordingly, in most books on Political
Economy, one or the other of two causes is assigned for
the constant falling off of profit in the progress of society.
The political economists either say with Adam Smith, that
the accumulation of capital lowers profits : or, with Mr.
Ricardo, that profits are lowered by the increasing difficulty
of procuring subsistence. Neither of them has assigned it
to the right cause, the impossibility of the labourer answer-
ing the demands of the capitalist. A mere glance must
satisfy every mind, that simple profit does not decrease but
increase in the progress of society that is, the same quan-
tity of labour which at any former period produced one
hundred quarters of wheat, and one hundred steam engines,
will now produce somewhat more, or the value of somewhat
more, which is the same thing : or where is the utility of
all our boasted improvements ? In fact, also, we find that
168 THE PRODUCTION OF WEALTH.
a much greater number of persons now live in opulence on
profit in this country than formerly. It is clear, however,
that no labour, no productive power, no ingenuity, and no
art, can answer the overwhelming demands of compound
interest. But all saving is made from the revenue of the
capitalist, so that actually these demands are constantly made,
and as constantly the productive power of labour refuses to
satisfy them. A sort of balance is, therefore, constantly
struck. The capitalists permit the labourers to have the
means of subsistence, because they cannot do without
labour, contenting themselves very generously with taking
every particle of produce not necessary to this purpose. It
is the overwhelming nature of the demands of capital,
sanctioned by the laws of society, sanctioned by the customs
of men, enforced by the legislature, and warmly defended
by political economists, which keep, which ever have kept,
and which ever will keep, as long as they are allowed and
acquiesced in, the labourer in poverty and misery.
Mr. Ricardo has justly defined the price of labour to be
such a quantity of commodities as will enable the labourers,
one with another, to subsist, and to perpetuate their race,
without either increase or diminution. Such is all which
the nature of profit or interest on capital will allow them to
receive, and such has ever been their reward. The
capitalist must give the labourers this sum, for it is the con-
dition he must fulfil in order to obtain labourers ; it is the
limit which nature places to his claims, but he never will
give, and never has given more.
Unfortunately, there is, in general, a disposition to restrict
the term labour to the operation of the hands. But if
it should be said, that the skill of the practised labourer is
a mere mechanical sort of thing, nobody will deny that the
labour by which he acquired that skill was a mental exertion.
The exercise of that skill, also, requiring the constant appli-
cation of judgment, depends much more on a mental than
on a bodily acquirement.
Masters, it is evident, are labourers as well as their
journeymen. In this character their interest is precisely
the same as that of their men. But they are also either
capitalists or the agents of the capitalist, and in this respect
their interest is decidedly opposed to the interest of their
workmen. As the contrivers and enterprising undertakers
of new works, they may be called employers as well as
CAPITAL. 169
labourers, and they deserve the respect of the labourer.
As capitalists, and as the agents of the capitalist, they are
merely middle men, oppressing the labourer, and deserving
of any thing but his respect. The labourer should know
and bear this in mind. Other people should also remem-
ber it, for it is indispensable to correct reasoning^to distin-
guish between these two characters of all masters. If by
combining, the journeymen were to drive masters, who are
a useful class of labourers, out of the country, if they were
to force abroad the skill and ingenuity which contrive,
severing them from the hands which execute, they would
do themselves and the remaining inhabitants considerable
mischief. If, on the contrary, by combining they merely
incapacitate the masters from obtaining any profit on their
capital, and merely prevent them from completing the
engagements they have contracted with the capitalist, they
will do themselves and the country incalculable service.
They may reduce or destroy all together the profit of the
idle capitalist and from the manner in which capitalists
have treated labourers, even within our own recollection,
they have no claim on the gratitude of the labourer, but
they will augment the wages and rewards of industry, and
will give to genius and skill their due share of the national
produce. They will also increase prodigiously the produc-
tive power of the country by increasing the number of
skilled labourers. The most successful and widest spread
possible combination to obtain an augmentation of wages
would have no other injurious effect than to reduce the in-
comes of those who live on profit and interest, and who
have no just claim, but custom, to any share of the national
produce.
This analysis of the operations of capitals, leads us at
once boldly to pronounce all those schemes of which we
have of late heard so much for improving countries, by
sending capital to them, to be mere nonsense. Of what
use, for example, would the butter, and salt-beef, and pork,
grain now exported from Ireland, be of in that country, if
they were to be left there, or if they were to be sent back ?
All these articles form some of the most valuable parts of
circulating capital, and so far from there being any want
of them in Ireland, they are constantly exported in great
quantities. It is plain, therefore, that there is no want of
circulating capital in Ireland, if the capitalist would allow
170 THE PRODUCTION OF WEALTH.
me wretched producer of it to consume it. Of what use
also would steam engines, or power looms, or stocking
frames, or mining tools, be of to the peasantry of Ireland ?
Of none whatever. If, indeed, masters and journeymen
went over with these instruments and tools, they might use
them, and by consuming at the same time the circulating
capital now exported from Ireland, give the owner of it
a large profit; and they might teach the ignorant and help-
less natives how to make use of the various instruments
I have mentioned. Those who talk of improving Ireland,
or any other country, by capital have a double meaning
in their words. They know the power of the capitalist over
the labourer, and that wherever the master goes or sends,
there also must the slave-labourer go. But neither the law-
maker nor the capitalist possesses any miraculous power of
multiplying loaves and fishes ; or of commanding, like the
enchanters of old, broomsticks, to do the work of men.
They must have labourers, skilled labourers, and without
them it is nonsense to talk of improving a country and
a people by corn, and cloth, and hatchets, and saws.
Without joining in any of the common-place observa-
tions against taking interest, and against usury, which,
however, support my view of capital, I have shown that it
has no just claim to any share of the labourer's produce,
and that what it actually receives is the cause of the
poverty of the labourer. It is impossible that the labourer
should long remain ignorant of these facts, or acquiesce in
this state of things. In truth, also, however the matter
may be disguised, the combinations among workmen to
obtain higher wages, which are now so general and so much
complained of, are practical attacks on the claims of capital.
The weight of its chains are felt, though the hand may not
yet be clearly seen which imposes them. Gradually as the
resistance increases, as laws are multiplied for the pro-
tection of capital, as claims for higher wages shall be more
strenuously and more violently repressed, the cause of this
oppression will be more distinctly seen. The contest now ap-
pears to be between masters and journeymen, or between one
species of labour and another; but it will soon be displayed
in its proper characters, and will stand confessed a war of
honest industry against the idle profligacy which has so long
ruled the affairs of the political world with undisputed
authority which has, for its own security, added honour
CAPITAL. 171
and political power to wealth, and has conjoined exclusion
and disgrace with the poverty it has inflicted on the
labourer. On the side of the labourers there is physical
strength, for they are more numerous than their opponents.
They are also fast losing that reverence for their opponents
which was and is the source of their power, and they are
daily acquiring a moral strength which results from a com-
mon interest and a close and intimate union. '
The capitalists and labourers form the great majority of
the nation, so that there is no third power to intervene
betwixt them. They must and will decide the dispute of
themselves. Final success, I would fain hope, must be on
the side of justice. 1 am certain, however, that till the
triumph of labour be complete; till productive industry
alone be opulent, and till idleness alone be poor ; till the
admirable maxim, *' that he who sows shall reap," be solidly
established ; till the right of property shall be founded on
principles of justice, and not on those of slavery ; till man
shall be held more in honour than the clod he treads on,
or the machine he guides there cannot, and there ought
not to be either peace on earth or good-will amongst
men.
I do not mean to point out all the consequences which
result from this view of capital; but there is one, so impor-
tant in a theoretical point of view, and so well calculated to
relieve the wise system of the universe from the oppro-
brium which has been cast upon it in these latter times,
that I cannot wholly pass it by. An elaborate theory has
been constructed, to show that there is a natural tendency
in population to increase faster than capital, or than the
means of employing labour. If my view of capital be
correct, this, as a theory of nature, falls at once baseless to
the ground. That the capitalist can control the existence
and number of labourers, that the whole number of the
population depends altogether on him, I will not deny.
But, put the capitalist, the oppressive middle man, who eats
up the produce of labour, and prevents the labourer from
knowing on what natural laws his existence and happiness
depend, out of view, put aside those social regulations by
which they who produce all are allowed to own little or nothing
and it is plain that capital, or the power to employ labour,
and co-existing labour, are one ; and, that productive capital
172 THE PRODUCTION OF WEALTH.
and skilled labour are also one ; consequently capital and a
labouring population are precisely synonymous.
In the system of nature, mouths are united with hands
and with intelligence ; they, and not capital, are the agents
of production ; and, according to her rule, however it may
have been thwarted by the pretended wisdom of lawmakers,
wherever there is a man, there also are the means of creating
or producing him subsistence. If also, as I say, circulating
capital is only co-existing labour, and fixed capital only skilled
labour, it must be plain, that all those numerous advantages,
those benefits to civilization, those vast improvements in
the condition of the human race, which have been in general
attributed to capital, are caused in fact by labour, and by
knowledge and skill informing and directing labour.
Should it be said, then, as perhaps it may, that unless there
be profit, and unless there be interest, there will be no
motives for accumulation and improvement ; I answer, that
this is a false view, and arises from attributing to capital
and saving those effects which result from labour; and,
that the best means of securing the progressive improve-
ment, both of individuals and of nations, is to do justice,
and allow labour to possess and enjoy the whole of its
produce.* Anon.
We may distinguish three classes of circumstances under
which the effects of an accumulation of capital will be very
different. First, if it be made and used by the same persons ;
second, if it be made and used by different classes of
persons, who share between them, in just proportion, the
produce of combined labour; third, if it be owned by a
class of persons, who neither make nor use it.
First, if the instruments, tools, dye-stuffs, &c. intended
to promote production, be made and used by one and the
same individual, we are bound to suppose that he finds
these labours advantageous, or he would not perform them :
and that every accumulation in his possession of the instru-
ments he makes and uses, facilitates his labour. The limit
to such an accumulation is plainly the power of the
labourer to make and use the instruments in question. In
the same manner, the quantity of national capital is always
* This article is abridged from a little work, entitled,
" Labour Defended." I2mo.
CAPITAL. 173
limited by the power of the labourers to make and use it
with advantage. When capital, therefore, is made and used
by the same persons; when all they produce belongs
to themselves, too much cannot be said in its favour.
Second, capital may be made by one labourer and used
by another, and both may divide the commodity obtained
by the labour of making and of using the capital between
them, in proportion as each has contributed by his labour
to produce it. He who makes the capital finds this em-
ployment productive to him, or he would not continue it j
and he who uses the capital finds that it assists his labour,
or he would give nothing for it. Under these circumstances
the accumulation and employment of capital is advan-
tageous.
I should rather express this fact, however, by saying,
that a part of the society employed in making instruments,
while another part uses them, is a branch of division of
labour which aids productive power, and adds to the
general wealth. As long as the produce of the two
labourers, and speaking of society, of the two classes of
labourers, be divided between them, the accumulation or
increase of such instruments as they can make and use, is
as beneficial as if they were made and used by one person.
Third, one labourer may produce or make the instruments
which another uses to assists production not mutually to
share in just proportions the produce of their co-operating
labour, but for the profit of a third party. The capitalist
being the mere oivner of the instruments, is not, as such, a
labourer. He, in no manner, assists production. He
acquires possession of the produce of one labourer, which
he makes over to another, either for a time, as in the case
with most kinds of fixed capital, or for ever, as is the case
with wages, whenever he thinks it can be used or consumed
for his advantage. He never does allow the produce of one
labourer, when it comes into his possession, to be either
used or consumed by another, unless it is for his benefit.
He employs or lends his property to share the produce, or
natural revenue of labourers ; and every accumulation of
such property in his hands, is a mere extension of his
power over the produce of labour, and retards the progress,
of national wealth. In this, which is at present the case,
the labourers must share their produce with unproductive
174 THE PRODUCTION OF WEALTH.
idlers, and to that extent less of the annual produce is em-
ployed in reproduction.
If there were only the makers and users of capital, to
share between them the produce of their co-operating
labour, the only limit to productive labour would be, that
it should obtain for them and their families a comfortable
subsistence. But when, in addition to this, which they
must have whether they be the owners of the capital or
not, they must also produce as much more as satisfies the
capitalist; this limit is much sooner reached. When the
capitalist, being the owner of all the produce, will allow
labourers neither to make nor use instruments unless he ob-
tains a profit over and above the subsistence of the labourer,
it is plain that bounds are set to productive labour, much
within what Nature prescribes. In proportion as capital
in the hands of a third party is accumulated, so the whole
amount of profit required by the capitalist increases, and
so there arises an artificial check to production and popula-
tion. The impossibility of the labourer producing all
which the capitalist requires prevents numberless opera-
tions, such as draining marshes, and clearing and cultivat-
ing waste lands; to do which would amply repay the la-
bourer by providing him with the means of subsistence,
though they will not, in addition, give a large profit to the
capitalist. In the present state of society the labourers
being in no case the owners of capital, every accumulation
of it adds to the amount of profit demanded from them,
and extinguishes all that labour which would only procure
the labourer his comfortable subsistence. More than this,
however, he adds not want; and thus, accumulation of
capital in the present state of society checks production,
and consequently checks the progress of population, the
division of labour, the increase of knowledge, and of na-
tional wealth. A Labourer.
173
CHAPTER IH.
THE INSTRUMENT OF EXCHANGE.
SECTION I.
THE ORIGIN AND USE OF MONEY.
THE term money, may, in its most comprehensive sense,
be applied to any thing that is employed as an instrument
of exchange, or barter. The following remarks will make
this intelligible to all. In the earliest stage of society,
after the division of labour had been begun, exchanges
might possibly be confined to cases in which each of the
parties desired to consume, or to appropriate to his own
immediate use, the commodity he was to receive. For
instance, one. man would have an excess of a bushel of
wheat, over what he wanted for the consumption of him-
self and family ; but he wanted a table or some other piece
of household furniture, which neither himself nor any one
in his family could put together. Under these circum-
stances, he would look round in the little community, for
some one who devoted his time to the manufacture of such
an article as that we have supposed him to want ; and
having found him, the two parties would mutually benefit
each other, by making an exchange of wheat for a piece of
household furniture. The carpenter wanted the wheat,
and the agriculturist wanted the piece of household furni-
ture, and the exchange therefore satisfied the wants of both.
And what we have supposed to be done in this case would
be done in numberless other cases. Wherever one person
had an excess of any commodity, he would exchange it with
some other person who wanted it, for another commodity
of which he himself stood in need. This is exchange or
barter.
But as the society in which we have supposed this
mode of exchange to be carried on, extended its limits,
and the wants of its members became multiplied and diver-
sified, great iriconveniencies would be found attendant
upon these transactions. For instance, one man having a
176 INSTRUMENT OF EXCHANGE.
surplus quantity of corn, might be compelled to carry it to
a great distance, in order to effect an exchange for such
commodities as he wanted in its stead. And this might
be the case even an immediate neighbour should possess a
surplus quantity of those very commodities ; because his
readiness to exchange would, of course, depend upon his
wanting corn. If he wanted wool, and not corn, it is plain
he would keep his surplus commodities till he met with
some one, who, wanting them, could give in exchange the
material he himself wanted ; namely, wool ; and when he
had found him, both the commodities to be exchanged
might have to be transported to a great distance, at con-
siderable expense and inconvenience to the parties.
Under these circumstances, it would not fail to suggest
itself to the barterers, that their business would be greatly
facilitated by the adoption of some instrument of exchange;
that is, some material which, by general consent, should
represent the value of the several articles to be exchanged.
Having made this discovery, they would not be long in
making another; namely, that any thing which possessed
a general and undoubted value in the eyes of those who
wanted to consume it, was a good and desirable payment,
if offered at a proper rate ; on the ground, that though the
receiver did not want to consume it himself, the person
could never be far off who would be willing to obtain pos-
session of it, by giving something which he did want to
consume, in return. This substance, whatever it might be,
would properly be denominated the instrument of exchange,
and would introduce a decided improvement upon the
former method. Still, however, inconveniencies would
exist, until some very portable material came to be adopted
as the instrument of exchange.
At length, metals were almost universally introduced,
as the instruments of exchange ; first the baser, or more
common sorts ; and subsequently, the finer, or more pre-
cious kinds ; first, rude pieces of metal, the conventional
or agreed value of which was ascertained by weighing them ;
and subsequently, coins, the value of which was authenti-
cated by the external appearance. Such coins are pro-
perly called money, and it is of these that we uniformly
speak when we employ this term.
Now, our proposition with regard to money is, that it is
ORIGIN AND USE OF MONEY. 177
a mere instrument of exchange; a mere representative of
wealth ; and in itself, altogether destitute of intrinsic value.
Let us examine this a little.
The term wealth, or riches, comprises every thing neces-
sary to human comfort and enjoyment; every thing essen-
tial to the most exalted and felicitous existence of society.
But such is not the case with money. Human beings
might live in the highest state of physical and mental en-
joyment, without having any idea of the existence of silver
or gold; and the fruits of the earth, and the products of
human industry, might continue to be gathered and ex-
tended, almost to infinity, even though both these sub-
stances should be annihilated to-morrow. This truth has
been put in a very clear and convincing light, by " a fel-
low labourer," whose happy illustration I shall borrow.
" Let us suppose a man to be placed on some barren or
desolate island, whose communication with the great world
is entirely cut off, having no access whatever to the pro-
ceeds of any labour but his own. We will suppose him to
be surrounded on all sides by heaps of gold and silver, cut
up, if you please, into every description of coin. Could
this individual, while in such a situation, with the least de-
gree of reason or common sense, be called wealthy ? He
could neither eat these representatives of weath, nor drink
them, nor clothe himself with them, nor inhabit them ; he
must therefore remain, for any thing these could supply
him with, poor, destitute, hungry, and naked !
" Let us suppose the same individual to be placed on
some other island, equally isolated, and cut off from all
external communication, but with the entire absence of all
precious metals, and in their stead, possessing in fertility
and abundance all other useful mineral, vegetable, and ani-
mal productions of the earth. Here, it is evident, he would
be able to save himself from hunger, nakedness, and desti-
tution, through the labour of his own hands, in gathering
the fruits, entrapping angl killing animals, collecting and
preparing the raw materials scattered around in every di-
rection, and in appropriating all these to his own use, by
way of food, clothing, and habitation. These are the
things that would constitute his wealth ; not, indeed, be-
fore he had bestowed his labour upon them, for without
the trouble and labour of gathering, arranging, preparing,
and appropriating these " natural productions" to his own
178 INSTRUMENT OF EXCHANGE.
use and convenience, he would be as miserable and desti-
tute in the midst of nature's abundance on the fruitful
island, as he could be on a barren rock. It is not gold or
silver, then, nor the natural productions of the earth of
themselves, that constitute wealth, but the labour of men's
hands, in collecting, arranging, preparing and making them
in every respect ready to be immediately appropriated to
the necessities and convenience of man."*
This puts the case in a very clear and forcible manner,
and will render plain, to every understanding, the differ-
ence between money and wealth. It is quite true, that
money universally commands wealth, or is capable of
bringing it into the possession of those who have this all-
powerful instrument. But how does it effect this ? Why,
by the possessors of money inducing the labourers, who
produce every description of wealth, to give their labour in
exchange for the money. And why do the labourers con-
sent to do this ? Why do they consent to give the sub-
stance for the shadow the reality for its representative ?
Solely and exclusively because they have never yet per-
ceived the difference between the two. Had they done so,
they never would have been persuaded to spend their
lives, from generation to generation, in one round of toil,
with scarcely an intermission, heaping up immense piles
of wealth for others, while they themselves were left in a
state of comparative destitution.
And now, we think we hear some of our readers express-
ing their admiration, that we should have wasted so much
of our time and space in arguing a matter which every
dunce previously well understood. The difference be-
tween money and real wealth is so obvious, it will be said,
that no one could entertain a doubt of it, provided he were
only capable of distinguishing " great A from a bull's
foot." We will care nothing for such taunts as these,
however, provided we shall be found to have made the
truth upon which we have been reasoning so plain as to
call them forth. That it is lamentably misunderstood, the
past and present condition of the working classes, almost
universally, to which we have above referred, furnishes in-
contestable proof.
But we anticipate another class of readers, who, without
* An Address to the Members of Trade Societies, bv a Fel-
low Labourer, p. 4.
ORIGIN AND USE OF MONEY. 179
objecting to the doctrine we have laid down, or thinking
our reasoning upon it superfluous, will be disposed to ques-
tion its practical utility, as a principle in social economy.
We might at once silence such objectors, by remarking,
that in a practical science every principle must be of prac-
tical utility. That the doctrine of the value of money is
of immense practical utility and importance, in the study of
social economy, we hope to render more manifest as we
proceed. A suggestion or two is all we have space for
here.
1. In the first place, it is of importance, as furnishing the
means for a proper estimate of the comparative value of
the working and non-working classes of society. We are
too apt to estimate a man's worth by the quantity of money
he possesses, rather than by the quantity of labour he ex-
pends in any of the various departments of production.
Nothing, however, can be more erroneous or mischievous.
The possessor of a million of money cannot multiply it or
enrich society, even to the amount of one farthing, unless
it be by inducing a labourer to exchange his labour, or the
produce of his labour, for gold or silver, and that at a lower
rate than its real productive value. But in this case, the
addition made to the rich man's wealth and the nation's
stock, has come out of the labour, and not out of the gold
or silver. Besides, whence came the gold and silver of
which the money is composed ? First, they were themselves
obtained by labour in foreign countries ; then, they were
procured from those countries in exchange for the produc-
tion of labour here ; and lastly, they were wrought up into
their present form by the outlay of additional labour on the
rude metal.
2. In the next place, a knowledge of the difference be-
tween money and wealth is of importance, as suggesting to
the working classes the momentous fact, that they have
the destinies of society in their own hands. Nothing can
be plainer than this ; and it is equally consolatory. The
mismanagement to which society has been so long sub-
jected, threatens on all hands the most tremendous conse-
quences, and our statesmen and legislators, whenever in-
vited or urged to grapple with the difficulties, and suppress
some of the most formidable evils, fold their hands toge-
ther, and declare that they arise from causes over which
they have no control ! Nothing therefore remains, they
N 2
180 INSTRUMENT OF EXCHANGE.
suggest, but to sit quietly till starvation has cleared away
the "superabundant population," when we shall again
become buoyant, and proceed on our course, until we again
arrive at the same point; as we inevitably must, if the like
causes are permitted to continue in operation. It is in the
power of the labouring classes, however, to save us from
the recurrence of these horrible calamities. They want
only knowledge and intelligence to direct that power, and
then the world will bless them as its saviour ! Do they
doubt it ? We will ask them one question. Suppose that
all the money in the kingdom were removed to-morrow
were swallowed up in the sea would that dry up the re-
sources of the country, or put an end to the creation of
wealth ? Put the question in this way to a man, and he at
once sees the absurdity of the supposition ; but it is, never-
theless, the notion blindly entertained by men generally.
Seeing that the productive powers of society are always
put in motion (under the existing state of things) by money,
they have erroneously concluded that money is the true
and only power of production ; and all their views, there-
fore, and all their ideas of advantage to society, have re-
ference and are confined to the accumulation of money.
This notion is the gangrene that is destroying us ; and yet
its malignity is so apparent, upon the slightest inspection,
that it is astonishing it should be permitted for an hour
longer to distress us.
3. To conclude : the mere possessors of money are as
about one to twenty-four, compared with the productive
classes. Now, to put the capabilities of their wealth to the
test, we would make the following bargain : let the land of
the country be divided into twenty-four parts ; let them
take one twenty-fourth, and give us twenty-three twenty-
fourths. They may do as they please with their money ;
we as we please with our labour. We would cultivate the
soil, erect buildings, raise and employ machinery, and put
in motion the various productive powers that our skill and
industry could invent. We would co-operate together in
the production of wealth, and having obtained it, our object
should be not to heap it in piles, and prevent its con-
sumption not to devise schemes for luxuriating a few
with a superabundance, and leaving many to starve for
want ; our object should be to promote the mutual enjoy-
ment of what had been produced by mutual labour, relying
ORIGIN AND USE OF MONEY. 181
upon the inexhaustible store which the Common Parent of
all had created for the common good of all. Carpenter.
Money exists generally in the form of gold, silver, or
paper. It is evident that neither of these can of itself
supply any of the wants of man : it is only from their con-
ventional power over the commodities of life, that they can
ever be of value. Men do not love gold for its own sake,
but on account of the command it gives them over the
commodities of life. Gold is never useful before it has
been spent, or before the possessor has given it in exchange
for a necessary or luxury. In all countries where the
money system prevails, it is manifest that every man can
apply to his own use a quantity of the necessaries and
luxuries of life, proportional to the quantity of money he
can spend. For instance, a man with an income of SO/,
a-year can apply to his own use the tenth part only of
the necessaries and luxuries which a man of 300/. a-year
can apply to his use. We shall obtain a correct notion of
the operation of money, if we suppose all the effects of
labour, all the necessaries and luxuries of life, consisting of
food, clothing, lodging, fine clothes, and furniture, do-
mestic services, &c. to be collected into one general fund,
and that a man draws out of this fund a quantity of com-
modities proportional to his income. But these incomes
are dispensed after a very extraordinary fashion ; for the
general law is, that the man who contributes least to the
production of necessaries and luxuries, enjoys the largest
income, whilst the man who contributes most to the com-
mon general fund lias the smallest income.
The distribution of these incomes is founded on the in-
stitution of private property. The command over the
whole national stock of necessaries and luxuries is vested
in a few individuals by the rights of property. If these in-
dividuals, whom we will call the rich, had always managed
their own property, it is probable the money system would
never have been invented : for in this case the population
would consist only of two classes, rich and poor, or mas-
ters and labourers ; and it evidently would be less trouble-
some to the masters to pay their labourers directly in ne-
cessaries, than to establish a common fund of necessaries
and luxuries, and give their labourers so many counters, or
so much money, as would exchange for the bare neces-
saries of life. In fact, if the population consist of these
two classes only, what is usually called slavery will exist
182 INSTRUMENT OF EXCHANGE.
But in all countries where the money system prevails, the
people are divided into three classes ; viz. the rich, the
labourers, and the managers of the property of the rich and
of the labour of the poor, which managers are generally
themselves possessed of property : in other words, such a
people may be considered as consisting of three classes,
rich, labourers, and traders. The national stock of neces-
saries and luxuries is committed to the care of the class of
traders, who distribute these commodities, by means of
certain counters called money. The rule observed by the
traders in the distribution of these counters is this : first to
give to the labourers who produce these necessaries and
luxuries, in exchange for their unceasing labour, so many
counters as represent their bare necessaries of life ; arid
then to divide the remainder among themselves and the
rich, by giving to the rich man a number of counters pro-
portional to his property, and by giving to each trader a
number of counters proportional to the value of the stock
under his management. It will thus frequently happen
that whilst the labourer gets only one counter, the trader
and the rich man are receiving twelve counters each, and
consequently applying to their use twelve times as much
of the necessaries anof luxuries of life.
The difference between the conditions of a slave and a
labourer under the money system, is very inconsiderable.
The motive which impels a free-man to labour is much
more violent than the motive impelling a slave : a free-man
has to choose between hard labour and starvation for him-
self and family; a slave has to choose between hard labour
and a good whipping : which of these two motives is the
most cogent no man can doubt. The master of a slave
understands too well his own interest to weaken his slaves
by stinting them in their food ; but the master of a free-
man gives him as little food as possible, because the injury
done to the labourer does not fall on himself alone, but on
the whole class of masters. There are some respects in
which the condition of a free labourer is superior to that of
a slave. A free labourer has generally the liberty of chang-
ing his master : this liberty distinguishes a slave from a
free labourer, as much as an English man-of-war sailor is
distinguished from a merchant sailor. Another liberty en-
joyed by the free-labourer is, that of spending his money
on what kind of necessaries he pleases : he also enjoys the
liberty of depriving himself and family of necessaries in
ORIGIN AND USE OF MONEY. 183
order to provide himself with a few luxuries. The condi-
tion of a labourer is superior to that of a slave, because the
labourer thinks himself free ; and this opinion, however
erroneous, has no small influence on the character and on
the happiness of a population. Edmonds.
The legitimate use of money is precisely the same as that
of scales, and weights, and measures : it is to measure out
and apportion exchanges, to facilitate the giving and
obtaining of equivalents : money, therefore, as a necessary
of life of the most ordinary and every day description, ought
to be as cheap, as common, and as attainable, by those who
have any thing that they wish to exchange, as a pair of
scales, or a pound weight.
Gold coin is totally unfit for this purpose, because it is
ever used upon the principle of being itself equal in value to
that which it represents; and as in, at least, ninety-nine cases
out of every hundred, the thing it represents is capable of
being far more easily increased than gold, every increase of
other produce habitually takes place at the imminent risk of
being sold at a reduced money-price ; that is, at a loss,
instead of at a profit ; and thus production is constantly
checked and retarded by the fear that is ever present in .
the manufacturer's mind of producing too much. It is the
quantity that can be sold at a profit, not the quantity that
can be made, that is the present limit to production.
Bank notes are subject to precisely the same objection
as gold, for they are uniformly issued upon securities, which
are always, in the aggregate, of more value than the money
advanced upon them. Thus, there is a constant deficiency
of money, a never-failing facility of obtaining whatever
we require for money, and a never-failing difficulty in
obtaining money for other things. In short, money, as it is
at present used, is merely a commodity, the price of which
rises and falls, like every other commodity, in proportion as
the demand for it is great or small.
When other marketable produce is increasing; that is,
when it is produced more rapidly than it is consumed, the
demand for money is, in the aggregate, also increasing ;
but as there is no habitual tendency in money to increase
as fast as other produce, an increased quantity of whatever
is given in exchange for money, would be constantly de-
manded for it, if manufacturers were to give full scope to
their respective powers of production. Hence arises a
184 INSTRUMENT OF EXCHANGE.
powerful check upon production ; the fear of producing too
much ; the fear lest the article should fetch less money than
it cost. The manufacturer must see a market for his goods
before he makes them, or, at all events, if he have an
abundant stock on hand, he will not continue to add to it
faster than his customers take from it. It is of no use for the
operatives to say to him, " We are industrious, and will
work ; you have the capital wherewith to employ us ; our
wants are not supplied." All this must be mere folly to the
man of business, whose capital, like a hand at cards, must
be played with a sort of hocus-pocus dexterity to win the
stake, to carry off the prize.
Great care must always be taken, that goods be not
made so freely, as to lower themselves in money price;
because the undertaker would, in that case, lose by his ad-
venture, his object being to gain by it. The man who
manufactures goods, does not coin guineas at the same
moment : there is no relative increase between the newly-
created wealth, and its representative money; and thus
a pound note, like a member of parliament, whose constitu-
ents are increased in number, becomes of greater relative
importance. The value of an individual vote is lessened
in the one case, and the value of an individual piece of
goods in the other.
Again, as there is no tendency in money habitually and
systematically to increase as other produce increases, so
also is there no habitual tendency in it to decrease as other
produce is consumed. The shilling which buys a loaf of bread,
exists in circulation alike before the bread is made, and
after it is eaten. Thus, the value of money is continually
liable to change ; arid if weights and measures were subject
to the same kind of variation, greater confusion and mis-
chief would not be the result.
The great desideratum in money is, that it may enable
any man, at any time, to exchange any article, of any value,
for an equal value of whatever marketable commodity he
pleases to have in its stead, with the least possible expense
of time, of labour, and of anxiety.
Does any description of money now in circulation come
up to this standard of excellence ? If, for example, a man
build a house, grow corn, or manufacture goods, can he
certainly and immediately exchange the house, the corn,
the goods, for their value in money ; that value, being a
ORIGIN AND USE OF MONEY. 185
fair remuneration for the trouble of superintendence, and
for the use of the capital employed, added to the cost
of labour and material in producing them ? The universal
answer to this question, if the truth be told, is NO.
********
Money should be merely a receipt, an evidence that the
holder of it has either contributed a certain value to the
national stock of wealth, or that he has acquired a right to
the said value, from some one who has contributed it. The
use of the receipt should be, to enable the holder of it to
re-obtain the value that was given for it, whenever he
pleases, and in whatever shape he may require. But money
should not be intrinsically valuable, and there is no more
necessity for its being so, than there is for a man who has
a store-room full of valuables, that he wishes to dispose of,
to carry golden certificates in his pocket, to prove to others
that the goods are really there. An authenticated inven-
tory would answer his purpose quite as well ; and money
should be nothing more or less than portable, transferable,
divisible, and inimitable evidences of the existence of
wealth in store.
********
Money should mean this, and nothing more than this :
You have contributed money to the national stock of
wealth ; I am the evidence that it has been received from
you ; and by me shall you be enabled to receive it back
again, in whatever shape you please. There is no descrip-
tion of money now existing which at all corresponds with
this character ; its first, its most essential, its most valu-
able quality, being intrinsic inutility. We have a thing
called money; consisting either of certain commodities
which are generally used for the purpose of effecting
exchanges, or of floating securities issued by bankers,
which are passed from hand to hand in the same way; but
these deserve to be called rather substitutes for money than
money itself. Wealth, like a thousand streams of water
arising in different places, and partaking of different qualities,
should all flow into one grand reservoir, and being there
mixed up, and its various qualities amalgamated, it should be
restored to its producers in quantities equal to those con-
tributed by each, but partaking of the qualities of the whole,
and money should be merely a measure to be used for the
186 INSTRUMENT OF EXCHANGE.
Kurposeof giving to every man as much as is received from
im. Gray.
The genuine principle of barter was, to exchange the
supposed prime cost of, or value of labour, in one article,
against the prime cost of, or amount of labour, contained
in any other article. This is the only equitable principle
of exchange; but as inventions increased, and human
desires multiplied, it was found inconvenient in practice.
Barter was succeeded by commerce, the principle of which
is, to produce or procure every article at the lowest, and
to obtain for it in exchange the highest amount of labour.
To effect this, an artificial standard of value was neces-
sary ; and metals were, by common consent among nations,
permitted to perform the office. This principle, in the
progress of its operation, has been productive of important
advantages, and of very great evils ; but, like barter, it has
been suited to a certain stage of society. It has stimulated
invention ; it has given industry and talent to the human
character, and secured the future exertion of those energies
which otherwise might have remained dormant and un-
known. But it has made man ignorantly, individually
selfish ; placed him in opposition to his fellows ; engen-
dered fraud and deceit ; blindly urged him forward to
create, but deprived him of the wisdom to enjoy. In
striving to take advantage of others, he has overreached
himself. The strong hand of necessity will now force him
into the path which conducts to that wisdom in which he
has been so long deficient. He will disqpver the advan-
tages to be derived from uniting in practice the best parts
of the principles of barter and commerce, and dismissing
those which experience has proved to be inconvenient and
injurious. This substantial improvement in the progress
of society may be easily effected, by exchanging all articles
with each other at their prime cost, or with reference to
the amount of labour in each, which can be equitably
ascertained, and by permitting the exchange to be made
through a convenient medium, to represent this value, and
which will thus represent a real and unchanging value,
and be issued only as substantial wealth increases
Depressed as the value of labour now is, there is no pro-
position in Euclid more true, than that society would be
immediately benefited, in a great variety of ways, to an
incalculable extent, by making labour the standard of value.
ORIGIN AND USE OF MONEY. 187
By this expedient, all the markets in the world, which are
now virtually closed against offering a profit to the pro-
ducers of wealth, would be opened to an unlimited extent ;
and in each individual exchange, all the parties interested
would be sure to receive ample remuneration for their
labour. Owen.
That a change in the currency must be made, all men
of sound practical knowledge are certain, but this change
should not be effected until the science of the creation and
circulation of wealth shall be known, for the next change
ought to be final. I trust, however, that the time for
making this change is not far distant, and, to hasten its
arrival, I will endeavour to explain what are the qualities
which a standard of value and a currency ought to possess.
A sound currency should possess capacity of being in-
creased precisely as wealth increases, of being diminished
precisely as wealth is diminished, and of being unchange-
able in its value. Now gold and silver do not possess one
of these essential properties of a standard of value or of a
circulating medium. Gold and silver are hourly changing
in value, and they cannot be increased or diminished as
wealth is created or consumed. In consequence of these
defects in the standard of value and currency, Great Britain
has lost and is losing property to an extent that it would
be imprudent now to state. The next best standard of
value to that which would represent the amount of real
value in every article, is its cost, and in a well-ordered state
of society the cost would be invariably its value in exchange,
and in consequence articles of intrinsic value only would
be produced, until society should be fully supplied with
them, when afterwards, for amusement, articles without
intrinsic value might, perhaps, be produced and manu-
factured. As soon as the science of society shall be known,
a standard of value, and a circulating medium possessing
the requisites which have been stated, may be easily intro-
duced to supersede the present standard and currency,
both of which are now unfit for the purposes required by
society. Idem.
From this detail we may learn the impolicy of a state
seeking to obtain wealth by the acquisition of the precious
metals. In themselves they are ot no value, but ebb and
flow with the scarcity or abundance of products, by which
alone their relative value is estimated. While wealth,
188 INSTRUMENT OF EXCHANGE.
which results from industry and commerce, flows in gradu-
ally, feeds and nourishes it, and calls it forth into vigorous
and well-conducted exertions; but when opulence pours
in suddenly, and with too full a stream, it overturns all
sober plans of industry, and brings along with it a taste
for what is wild, and extravagant, arid daring, in business
or in action. States, therefore, that seek prosperity and
wealth, should expect them from trade and commerce,
instead of money. Even a barter trade would be found
more beneficial than a return of gold and silver, whose
value is diminished by their augmentation. To many, a
payment for goods in gold and silver would be thought
preferable to commodities. The Spaniards thought so, and
yet became the most beggarly country in Europe. But if,
instead of the price being received in the precious metals,
the merchant be paid in cambric, muslin, hemp, or flax,
which will exchange for more in value than the precious
metals, he and the country too would be gainers. If Spain
had done so, and prohibited the working of the mines, in-
stead of importing their productions, Philip III. might
have given law to Europe more effectually than his prede-
cessor Charles. And if Rome, instead of imposing tributes
on the vanquished states, had entered into commercial
treaties, she would, in all probability, have flourished to
this day.
Let nations then lay the foundation of their wealth in
the extension and improvement of their commerce, instead
of the acquisition of gold and silver. Let them imitate
Florence and Holland, rather than Rome and Spain. Let
wealth be obtained through the channels of commerce,
instead of lotteries, loans, or the funding system, >yhich
enrich a parcel of drones, instead of productive labourers.
Annuities, pensions, primogeniture, and the like, are all
repugnant to good policy and sound political economy.
Putt.
SECTION II.
PAPER CURRENCY.
ONE of the evils of paper-money is, that it turns the
whole country into stock-jobbers. The precariousness of
PAPER CURRENCY. 189
its value and the uncertainty of its fate continually operate,
night and day, to produce this destructive effect. Having
no real value in itself, it depends for support upon accident,
caprice, and party ; and as it is the interest of some to de-
preciate, and of others to raise its value, there is a con-
tinual invention going on that destroys the morals of the
country There are a set of men who go about mak-
ing purchases upon credit, and buving estates they have
not wherewithal to pay for ; and having done this, their
next step is to fill the newspapers with paragraphs of the
scarcity of money and the necessity of a paper-emission,
than to have it made a legal tender under the pretence of
supporting its credit; and when out, to depreciate it as
fast as they can, get a deal of it for a little price, and cheat
their creditors ; and this is the concise history of paper-
money schemes.
But why, since the universal custom of the world has
established money as the most convenient medium of traf-
fic and commerce, should paper be set up in preference to
gold and silver ? The productions of nature are surely as
innocent as those of art ; and in the case of money, are
abundantly, if not infinitely, more so. The love of gold
and silver may produce covetousness ; but covetousness,
when not connected with dishonesty, is not properly a vice.
It is frugality run to an extreme.
But the evils of paper-money have no end. Its uncer-
tain and fluctuating value is continually awakening or
creating new schemes of deceit. Every principle of justice
is put to the rack, and the bond of society dissolved : the
suppression, therefore, of paper-money, might very properly
have been put into the act for preventing vice and immo-
rality.
The pretence for paper-money has been, that there was
not a sufficiency of gold and silver. This, so far from being
a reason for paper-emissions, is a reason against them.
Gold and silver are articles of importation ; and if we set
up a paper-manufactory of money, it amounts, as far as it
is able, to prevent the importation of hard money, or to
send it out again as fast as it comes in ; and by following
this practice we shall continually banish the specie, till we
have none left, and be continually complaining of the griev-
ance instead of remedying the cause. Considering gold
and silver as articles of importation, there will in tirne
190 INSTRUMENT OF EXCHANGE.
unless we prevent it by paper-emission, be as much in the
country as the occasion of it require, for the same reasons
there are as much of other imported articles. But as every
yard of cloth manufactured in the country occasions a yard
the less to be imported ; so it is by money, with the dif-
ference, that in the one case we manufacture the thing
itself, and in the other we do not. We have cloth for
cloth, but we have only paper dollars for silver ones.
Of all the various sorts of base coin, paper-money is the
basest. It has the least intrinsic value of anything that
can be put in the place of gold and silver. A hobnail or
a piece of wampum far exceeds it. And there would be
more propriety in making those articles a legal tender, than
to make paper so. Paine.
Paper-money is like dram- drinking, it relieves for the
moment by a deceitful sensation, but gradually diminishes
the natural heat, and leaves the body worse than it found
it. Were not this the case, and could money be made of
paper at pleasure, every sovereign in Europe would be as
rich as he pleased. But the truth is, that it is a bubble,
and the attempt vanity. Nature has provided the proper
materials for money, gold and silver, and any attempt of
ours to rival her is ridiculous. Idem.
Paper-money appears, at first sight, to be a great saving,
or rather, that it costs nothing ; but it is the dearest money
there is. The ease with which it is emitted by any as-
sembly at first, serves as a trap to catch the people in at
last, 'it operates as an anticipation of the next year's
taxes. If the money depreciates after it is out, it then, as
I have already remarked, has the effect of fluctuating stock,
and the people become stock-jobbers to throw the loss on
each other. If it does not depreciate, it is then to be sunk
by taxes at the price of hard money ; because the same
quantity of produce, or goods, that would procure a paper
dollar to pay taxes with, would procure a silver one for
the same purpose. Therefore, in any case of paper-money
it is dearer to the country than hard money, by all the
expense which the paper, printing, signing, and other at-
tendant charges come to, and at last goes into the fire.
Suppose one hundred thousand dollars in paper-money
to be emitted every year by the assembly, and the same
sum to be sunk every year by taxes, there will then be no
more than one hundred thousand dollars out at any one
THE FUNDING SYSTEM. 191
time. If the expense of paper and printing, and of persons
to attend the press while the sheets are striking off, signers,
&c., be five per cent., it is evident, that in the course of
twenty years' emissions, the one hundred thousand dollars
will cost the country two hundred thousand dollars : be-
cause the paper-maker's and printer's bills, and the expense
of supervisors and signers, and other attendant charges,
wnTin that time amount to as much as the money amounts
to ; for the successive emissions are but a recoinage of the
same sum. But gold and silver require to be coined but
once, and will last a hundred years, better than paper will
one year, and at the end of that time be still gold and
silver. Therefore the saving to government in combining
its aid and security with that of the Bank in procuring
hard money, will be an advantage to both, and to the
whole community. Idem.
Bank paper is no more national wealth than newspapers
are ; because an increase of promissory notes, the capital
remaining unincreasing in the same proportion, is no in-
crease of wealth. It serves to raise false ideas which the
judicious soon discover, and the ignorant experience to
their cost. Idem.
CHAPTER IV.
OF THE FUNDING SYSTEM.
ALTHOUGH the feudal system was a barbarous social
institution, it possessed the advantage of entailing on the
fomenters of war its unavoidable cost and calamities. The
old barons used to arm themselves and vassals at their
own expense, and support them during the contest. There
was then no standing army nor permanent revenue, those
who tilled the land fought the battles of the country.
Under such a system, wars could neither be very long in
their duration, nor very remote in their objects. Foreign
expeditions were suited as little to the national resources as
to the avocations of the people. The only time that could
be spared to settle public quarrels was between seed-time
and harvest, and the only treasure they could be provided
192 INSTRUMENT OF EXCHANGE.
with beforehand, was the surplus produce of the preced-
ing year. Hence, wars were generally either carried on
languidly, or were of short duration. Their operations
were frequently interrupted by truces, and sometimes dis-
continued through mere feebleness. A warlike leader was
often stopped short in his victorious career, either from the
want of resources, or the necessity of allowing his followers
to return home to provide subsistence for the following
season.
The state of the sovereign was as little favourable to
protracted contests as the condition of his lieges. His re-
venue was derived partly from lands reserved as a royal
demesne, and partly from feudal casualties, and afforded a
slender provision for maintaining the royal dignity, and
defraying the ordinary expenses of government, but was
altogether inadequate to the support of numerous and per-
manent armies. Supplies from the people were obtained to
a certain extent; but the people neither possessed the
means, nor, happily, had acquired the habit, of granting
liberal supplies. Princes, under any emergency, real or
supposed, or actuated by any scheme of ambition, had re-
course either to borrowing or pawning. The loans which
they raised were partly compulsory, and, as the payment
was ill secured, the rate of interest was high. Sometimes
the jewels of the crown were pledged, and sometimes the
'crown-lands were mortgaged. In this manner the revenues
of most of the powers of Europe were anticipated and en-
cumbered.
A new state of society introduced a new mode of sup-
porting war. Instead of borrowing on their own credit,
sovereigns learnt to borrow on the credit of posterity. The
issue of war no longer depended on a single battle or suc-
cessful irruption, but on the length of the public purse. It
was not money, however, that formed the sinews of war, but
credit. Credit superseded money, and modern policy found
out the expedient of supporting wars for temporary objects,
arid entailing the burden of them on future generations.
This system possessed too many facilities to be abandoned,
or not to be carried to the utmost extent of which it was
capable. And, accordingly, we find, wherever the system
of borrowing and funding has been introduced, it has gone on
with an accelerated velocity, till the payment of the princi-
THE FUNDING SYSTEM. * 193
pal became quite chimerical, and government were obliged
to compound with their creditors for the interest. Black
Book.
Alas ! the funds are no place at all ! and, indeed, how
should they, seeing that they are, in fact, one and the same
thing with the National Debt ? But, to remove, from the
mind of every creature all doubt upon this point, to dissi-
pate the mists in which we have so long being wandering,
to the infinite amusement of those who invented these
terms, let us take a plain common-sense view of these
loaning transactions. Let us suppose, then, that the govern-
ment wants a loan, that is, wants to borrow money*, to the
amount of a million of pounds. Its gives out its wishes to
this effect, and, after the usual ceremony upon such occa-
sions, the loan is made, that is, the money is lent by
Messrs. Muckworm and Company. We shall see by-and-
by, when we come to talk more fully upon the subject of
loans, what sort of a way it is, in which Muckworm pays in
the money so lent, and in what sort of money it is that
he pays. But, for the sake of simplicity in our illustration,
we will suppose him to pay in real good money, and to pay
the whole million himself at once. Well : what does
Muckworm get in return ? Why, his name is written in
a book : against his name is written, that he is entitled
to receive interest for a million of money; which book
is kept at the Bank Company's house, or shop, in Thread-
needle Street, London. And, thus it is that Muckworm
" puts a million of money into * the funds.' " " Well," you
will say, " but what becomes of the money ? " Why, the
ing it up
money all vanishes ; and nothing remains in lieu of it but
the lender's name written in a book ? " Even so : and this,
my good neighbours, is the way that " money is put into
the funds."
But, the most interesting part of the transaction remains
to be described. Muckworm, who is as wise as he is rich,
takes special care not to be fund-holder himself; and, as is
always the case, he loses no time in selling his stock, that is
to say, his right to receive the interest of the million of
pounds. These funds, or stock, as we have seen, have
no bodily existence, either in the shape of money or of
XIII. o
194 THE FUNDING SYSTEM.
bonds or of certificates or of any thing else that can be seen
or touched. They have a being merely in name. They
mean, in fact, a right to receive interest ; and a man who
is said to possess, or to have a thousand pounds' worth
of stock, possesses, in reality, nothing but the right of
receiving the interest of a thousand pounds. When, there-
fore, Muckworm sells his million's worth of stock, he sells
the right of receiving the interest upon the million of pounds
which he lent to the government. But, the way in which
sales of this sort are effected is by parcelling the stock out to
little purchasers, every one of whom buys as much as he
likes ; he has his name written in the book for so much,
instead of the name of Muckworm and Company; and,
when Muckworm has sold the whole, his name is crossed
out, and the names of the persons to whom he has sold
remain in the book.
And here it is that the thing comes home to our very
bosoms ; for, our neighbour farmer Greenhorn, who has all
his life being working like a horse, in order to secure his
children from the perils of poverty, having first bequeathed
his farm to his son, sells the rest of his property (amounting
to a couple of thousands of pounds), and, with the real
good money, the fruit of his incessant toil and care, pur-
chases two thousand pounds' worth of Muckworm's funds,
or stocks, and leaves the said purchase to his daughter.
And why does he do so ? The reason is, that, as he
believes his daughter will always receive the interest of the
two thousand pounds, w ithout any of the risk or trouble be-
longing to the rents of house or land. Thus neighbour Green-
horn is said to have " put two thousand pounds in the
funds ; " and thus his daughter (poor girl !) is said to
" have her money in the funds ;" when the plain fact is,
that Muckworm's money has been spent by the government,
that Muckworm has now the two thousand pounds of poor
Grizzle Greenhorn, and that she, in return for it, has her
name written in a book, at the Bank Company's house
in Threadneedle Street, in London, in consequence ot
which she is entitled to receive the interest of two thousand
pounds ; which brings us back to the point whence we
started, and explains the whole art and mystery of making
Joans and funds and stocks and national debts. Cobbetfs
Paper against Gold, pp. 16 18.
By this means [the funding system] the quantity of pro-
THE FUNDING SYSTEM. 193
perty in the kingdom is greatly increased in idea, compared
with former times : yet, if we coolly examine it, not at all
increased in reality. It exists only in name, in paper,
in public faith, in parliamentary security: and this is
undoubtedly sufficient for the creditors of the public to rely
on. But then, what is the pledge which the public faith
has pawned for the security of these debts ? The land, the
trade, and the personal industry of the subject ; from which
the money must arise that supplies the several taxes. In
these, therefore, and in these only, the property of the public
creditors does really and intrinsically exist : and of course,
the land, the trade, and the personal industry of individuals,
are diminished in their true value, just so much as they are
pledged to answer. If A's income amounts to 100/.
per annum, and he is so far indebted to B, that he pays
him 50/. per annum for his interest, one half of the value of
A's property is transferred to B, the creditor. The creditor's
property consists in the demand which he has upon the
debtor, and nowhere else ; and the debtor is only a trustee
to his creditor for one half of the value of his income. In
short, the property of a creditor of the public consists in a
certain portion of national taxes : by how much, therefore,
he is the richer, by so much the nation, which pave
the taxes, is the poorer.
**####
Thus much is indisputably certain, that the present mag-
nitude of our national encumbrances very far exceeds all
calculations of commercial benefit, and is productive of the
greatest inconveniences. For, first, the enormous taxes,
that are raised upon the necessaries of life, for the payment
of the interest of this debt, are a hurt both to trade and
manufactures, by raising the price as well of the artificer's
subsistence as of the raw material, and of course, in a much
neater proportion, the price of the commodity itself. Nay,
the very increase of paper circulation itself, when extended
beyond what is requisite for commerce or foreign exchange,
has a natural tendency to increase the price of pro visions, as
well as of all other merchandise. For, as its effect is to multiply
the cash of the kingdom, and this to such an extent that much
must remain unemployed, that cash (which is the universal
measure of the respective values of all other commodities)
must necessarily sink in its own value, and every thing
o2
196 THE FUNDING SYSTEM.
grows comparatively dearer. Secondly, if part of this debt
be owing to foreigners, either they draw out of the kingdom
annually a considerable quantity of specie for the interest ;
or else it is made an argument to grant them unreasonable
privileges, in order to induce them to reside here. Thirdly,
if the whole be owing to subjects only, it is then charging
the active and industrious subject, who pays his share of the
taxes, to maintain the indolent and idle creditor who
receives them. Lastly, and principally, it weakens the in-
ternal strength of a state, by anticipating those resources
which should be reserved to defend it in case of necessity.
The interest we now pay for our debt would be nearly suf-
ficient to maintain any war, that any national motives
could require. And if our ancestors in King William's
time had annually paid, so long as their exigencies lasted,
even a less sum than we now annually raise upon their
accounts, they would in time of war have borne no
greater burdens than they have bequeathed to and settled*
upon their posterity in time of peace ; and might have been
eased the moment the exigence was over. Blackstone.
The funding system is not money ; neither is it, properly
speaking, credit. It in effect creates upon paper the sum
which it appears to borrow, and lays on a tax to keep the
imaginary capital alive, by the payment of interest, and
sends the annuity to market, to be sold for paper already in
circulation. If any credit is given, it is to the disposition
of the people to pay the tax, and not to the government
which lays it on. When this disposition expires, what is
supposed to be the credit of government expires with
it. The instance of France, under the former government,
shows that it is Impossible to compel the payment of taxes
by force, when a whole nation is determined to take its
stand upon that ground. Paine.
The original design of the funding system, which com-
menced in the reign of King William, was to give stability
to the revolution, by engaging the monied interest to em-
bark on its bottom. It immediately advanced the influence
of the crown, which the whigs then exalted as much as pos-
sible, as a countervail to the interest of the pretender.
Robert Hall.
That the funding system contains within itself the seeds
of its own destruction, is as certain as that of the human
COMMECRE. 197
body containing within itself the seeds of death. The event
is as fixed as fate, unless it can be taken as a proof, that
because we are not dead we are not to die.
The consequence of the funding scheme, even if no other
event takes place, will be to create two violent parties in
the nation ; the one goaded by taxes continually increasing
to pay the interest, the other reaping a benefit from the
taxes, by receiving the interest. Paine.
CHAPTER V.
OF COMMERCE.
THIS species of industry has its origin in the nature
of man, and the circumstances under which he is placed;
and its rise is coeval with the formation of society. The
varying powers and dispositions of different individuals
dispose them to engage in preference in particular occupa-
tions ; and every one finds it for his advantage to confine
himself wholly or principally to some one employment, and
to barter or exchange such portions of his produce as
exceed his own demand, for such portions of the peculiar
produce of others as he is desirous to obtain, and they are
disposed to part with. The division and combination
of employments is carried to some extent in the rudest
societies, and it is carried to a very great extent in those
that are improved. But to whatever extent it maybe carried,
commerce must be equally advanced. The division of em-
ployments could not exist without commerce, nor com-
merce without the division of employments : they mutually
act and react upon each other. Every new subdivision of
employments occasions a greater extension of commerce ;
and the latter cannot be extended without contributing to
the better division and combination of the former.
In rude societies, the business of commerce, or the
exchange of commodities, is carried on by those who pro-
duce them. Individuals, having more of any article than is
required for their own use, endeavour to find out others in
want of it, and who at the same time possess something they
would like to have. But the difficulties and inconveniences
inseparable from a commercial intercourse, carried on in
198 COMMERCE.
this way, are so obvious, as hardly to require being pointed
out. Were there no merchants or dealers, a farmer, for
example, who had a quantity of wheat or wool to dispose
of, would be obliged to seek out those who wanted tnese
commodities, and to sell them in such portions as might
suit them ; and, having done this, he would next be forced
to send to, perhaps, twenty different distant places, before
he succeeded in supplying himself with the various articles
he might wish to Suy. His attention would thus be per-
petually diverted from the business of his farm ; and while
the difficulty of exchanging his own produce for that of
others would prevent him from acquiring a taste for improved
accommodation?, it would tempt him to endeavour to sup-
ply most that was essential by his own labour, and that
of his family ; so that the division of employments would
be confined within the narrowest limits. The wish to
obviate such inconveniences, has given rise to a distinct
mercantile class. Without employing themselves in any
sort of production, merchants or dealers render the greatest
assistance to the producers. They collect and distribute all
sorts of commodities ; they buy of the farmers and manufac-
turers the things they have to sell ; and bringing together
every variety of useful and desirable articles in shops and
warehouses, individuals are able, without difficulty or loss
of time, to supply themselves with whatever they want.
Continuity is in consequence given to all the operations of
industry. As every one knows beforehand where he may
dispose to the best advantage of all that he has to sell,
and obtain all that he wishes to buy, an uninterrupted
motion is given to the plough and the loom. M'Culloch.
Commerce is founded on the division of labour. All
useful commerce, all commerce occasioning wealth or
power, is founded on the reciprocal advantages which at-
tend a division of labour engaged in producing the neces-
saries of life. If every man produced his own food, clothing,
and lodging; that is, if there were no division of labour, there
could be no commerce. Every man must, at all times, be
consuming the three great necessaries of life; if a man
apply his labour to the production of one of these necessa-
ries only, he must exchange part of the produce of his
labour for the other two necessaries. As the division of
labour increases, the number of exchangeable articles in-
creases, and commerce increases.
COMMERCE. 199
Before the division of labour every man produced his
own food, clothing, and lodging-, and the machines or
tools he wanted. On the discovery of the properties of
iron, it is probable that labour was first divided; the first
division of men was probably into these two classes;
namely, the producers of the necessaries of life, and the
workers in iron, who produced the requisite machines or
tools. The first commerce consisted in the interchange
of iron machines for necessaries : those who lived near
the workers in iron, would give corn in exchange for their
iron tools; those who lived at a distance would give cloth-
ing in exchange for their iron, in order to save labour
in carriage; since the weight of a certain quantity of
clothing will not be greater than the tenth part of the
weight of a quantity of corn of the same value. When the
labour of producing corn and clothing becomes divided,
commerce will consist in the interchange of corn, clothing,
and machines ; every producer of clothing alone, must be
continually exchanging part of his produce for food and
machines ; and every machine-maker must be exchanging
part of the effects of his labour, for part of the labour of the
corn-grower and clothier. All useful commerce consists,
almost wholly, in the interchange of these articles, corn,
clothing, and machines. All other commerce produces no
more national wealth than does the labour of domestic ser-
vants. Since the consumption of tools or machines is not
considerable, when compared with the consumption of
either corn or clothing, it will be sufficient to consider all
useful commerce as consisting in the interchange of corn
and plain clothing.
******
The commerce between an agricultural and a manufac-
turing nation, is as mutually advantageous as the commerce
in corn and cloth carried on between the inhabitants of a
town and the farmers in the neighbourhood. If a free
trade in corn and cloth were allowed between England and
France, the art of agriculture would improve in France,
and the art of making cloth would improve in Eng-
land ; but the art of making cloth would remain nearly
stationary in France, and in England the art of agriculture
would make slow progress. The mutual benefit which the
two countries would iderive from such free trade is indis-
putable, on the supposition, that such free trade is not
260 COMMERCE.
subject to interruptions; for every Englishman and French-
man would then procure the necessaries of life with dimin-
ished labour ; and, consequently, the wealth or power of
both England and France would be increased. When
there is a chance of interruption, the policy of allowing
a free trade will depend on the decision of these two ques-
tions: Whether the improvement in the agriculture of
France would compensate for the check given to the art
of making cloth ; and whether England's rapid advance-
ment in the art of making cloths would compensate for her
slow advancement in agriculture.
No useful commerce can exist between two very distant
countries for any great length of time. The improvements
made in the arts in one country, by means of the division
of labour, and by means of large capitals, may be so great
and so rapid, that this country may supply for a time many
distant countries with manufactures. But when the arts in
this country have nearly reached perfection, the expense of
transporting the commodities exchanged will be so great,
that very high rewards will be conferred on those who
succeed in transferring capital from this country to other
countries; these rewards will be so high, that it will be
impossible for the rich country to prevent the export
of machinery and workmen to other countries. All
useful distant commerce is founded on inequality in the
knowledge of the useful arts ; and it is impossible to pre-
vent this knowledge from diifusing itself. W^hen the
knowledge of the arts is equally diffused, nearly all com-
merce between distant towns will cease, and every country
or small territory \vill be independent of all other coun-
tries. At no distant period, England will cease to manu-
facture for the rest of the world, and every nation will find
it most profitable to manufacture for itself. Edmonds.
As it has never been asked how \vealth can be the most
abundantly arid beneficially produced for society, so the
question has, in like manner, never been thought of, how
the wealth produced by society can be the most advanta-
geously distributed ? The simple and natural reply would
be, By passing it in the shortest and most economical man-
ner from the producing powers to the consumers. But
what is now the actual practice of society ? It is, generally
speaking, the reverse of this process. Almost every ex-
pedient has been devised for the purpose of passing* pro-
COMMERCE. 201
ductions through many hands, at a great expense of labour
and capital, before they reach the consumer ; and in these
arrangements for the distribution of wealth, the quality of
the articles composing it is often greatly injured by'the
small quantities into which they are divided, and the im-
proper temperatures in which they are kept.
The truth of both these positions will be evident by an
inspection of the extravagantly fitted up large retail esta-
blishments, formed altogether for show and attraction;
and of the numerous miserable, small, inconvenient holes
and corners, through which the poorer, among the working
classes, are generally supplied ; and of the innumerable
descriptions of common retail shops, through which the
general articles of consumption are usually vended.
Of these shops there are probably much more than fifty
for one that would be required, under an arrangement
formed on a knowledge of the Science of Society ; and the
capital and labour of the forty-nine thus wasted, would be
sufficient, if they were properly applied, to produce more
wealth, of a superior description, than society, when formed
into a rational state, would desire to consume.
Under the existing embarrassments of this nation, few
occupations can be more puerile, or produce a more infe-
rior character of mind, than the mere distributor of wealth
for his own gain. He produces nothing for society, he
acquires no useful knowledge, his most valuable faculties
are dormant or mis-directed, and he acquires the habit of
servility, which encourages pride and oppression in his
customers, and destroys all independent energy in his own
character. This mode of distribution is one of the random
measures of society, arising from the individual competitive
system. It is a direct waste of manual power, of capital,
and of intellectual faculty, to an enormous extent ; and it
forms a weak, imbecile character, in a large, and what might
be made, a valuable portion of the human race. It is one
of the most extensive, although it is one of the most use-
less, of the existing occupations of society. It is probable
that one-fifth or one-sixth of the population is directly or
indirectly occupied in or for this department. And no-
thing can show more evidently the loose, random formation
of society, than the immense waste of power which has
always been made in this department, and which is con-
tinually increasing by a useless expenditure in unnecessary
202 COMMERCE.
decoration, calculated only to attract and deceive. Much
of this metropolis, and of the large cities and towns
throughout the kingdom, are composed of wholesale and
retail arrangements for distribution, not any part of which
would be useful under a scientific or superior organization
of society. Productions of all kinds would generally be
conveyed from the stores of the producers, to the places
where they would be prepared for immediate consumption.
They now needlessly pass from place to place, and hand
to hand, and in most cases circumstances exist to make it
appear to be the interest of distributors to adulterate and
deteriorate many of the first necessaries of life, by which
the health of the consumers is often injured, if not de-
stroyed. These are a few of the many evils which arise
in the department of distribution, from the ignorance of all
parties, in the British dominions, relative to the Science
of Society. Owen.
What is commerce ? If I understand it right, it is no-
thing more than the exchange and distribution of commo-
dities, or articles of wealth: as for example ; a shipping
merchant ships off to some foreign market a cargo of arti-
cles, it matters not what they are, say hats and shoes ; he
receives in return a cargo of other articles, say sugar and
tropical fruits : now, does the merchant, by this commer-
cial act, create any wealth which before did not exist ? No ;
he simply makes an exchange of one article of human
labour for another; where then is his "golden girdle y"
It consists in this ; he levies a tax on each of those articles
to the amount of about one-third its value, under the name
of profit ; which of course raises the market value in pro-
portion to the amount of the tax levied. They then pass
from him to the wholesale merchant, who levies a similar
tax under the same name. Thus advanced in value, they
pass into the hands of the retail merchant, whose " golden
girdle" has likewise to be obtained upon them before they
can pass into the hands of the consumer. Those who have
written in support of this class have so far imposed upon
great numbers of even the working class, as to make us
think that commerce is indeed the " golden girdle " of the
universe. Here is the delusion. I grant that the system
of profit is to them a " golden girdle;" but to the work-
ing class, from the products of whose labours these profits
are deducted, it is, and will continue to be, as long as it
COMMERCE. 203
continues at all, an iron chain of bondage : a system of-
unjust abstraction, oppression, and legal fraud, by which
the most useful classes of society are drained of their
wealth, and consigned over to eternal toil and never-ending
slavery.
The whole of this class are mere exchangers and distri-
butors of wealth ; and happy would it be for the working
class, if they were paid the full value of their actual ser-
vices and no more. But the natural order of things is re-
versed : the exchange and distribution of wealth which in-
trinsically is only a secondary employment, is made a mat-
ter of the highest importance, while the production of it,
which must ever be first in the order of nature, is rendered
the least profitable, the most laborious, and consequently
the lowest in the public estimation. I shall endeavour to
point out what I conceive would be a more natural arrange-
ment, and more accordant with justice. I think it is suffi-
ciently clear that all wealth is the exclusive product of la-
bour. It must then be equally clear, that the producers of
it do, by their labour, support not only themselves, but also
every other individual in society. The old and the young,
the rich and the poor, whether' they be official labourers or
useless idlers, all live upon wealth which is the product of
labour, and therefore the producers of it maintain them all.
Now, inasmuch as there is no kind of service whatever per-
formed in society but these pay for it, not in representative
but in real wealth, would not that arrangement appear the
most natural which would make these the employers instead
of the employed ?
Under our present commercial arrangement, there are
at least ten families of the commercial class to be supported
where one would fully answer the purpose; witness, for
instance, the occupations of tavern-keepers and druggists
alone whereas, under the arrangement just mentioned,
the producers would employ no more official labourers of
any kind than were actually necessary to perform the busi-
ness which they required, and these would not be paid
through the medium of profit ; they would receive an equit-
able compensation for their actual services, and no more.
Thus wealth would be retained in the hands of" its indus-
trious producers, and the labouring man would be (not the
vast accumulator, but) what he ought to be ,the real, and
though small, yet only capitalist. It is true, there are
204 COMMERCE.
thousands who now do nothing- but revel in idle extrava-
gance on the labour of others ; and tens of thousands who
are worse than uselessly employed in distributing occupa-
tions, whose resources of enjoyment or accumulation would,
by this arrangement, be utterly cut off; but why should
these riot any longer like useless drones on the proceeds of
industry, impoverishing the producers, and consigning us
to endless toil ? the door would be open let them turn pro-
ducers. Under such an arrangement they might enjoy the
whole product of their industry, because the system of ab-
straction would be terminated. There would be no means
of accumulating wealth faster than by productive labour ;
" profit" arid usury, those sources of indolence, pride, and
extravagance to the few, and endless toil and degradation
to the million, would be laid aside, and there would be no
channel left through which wealth could be drawn out of
the hands of its industrious producers, but for services
actually rendered. Anon.
If commerce were permitted to act to the universal ex-
tent it is capable of, it would extirpate the system of war,
and produce a revolution in the uncivilized state of govern-
ments. The invention of commerce has arisen since those
governments began, and is the greatest approach towards
universal civilization, that has yet been made by any means
not immediately flowing from moral principles.
That the principles of commerce, and its universal ope-
ration, may be understood, without understanding the
practice, is a position that reason will not deny ; and it is
on this ground only that I argue the subject. It is one
thing in the counting-house, in the world it is another.
With respect to its operation, it must necessarily be con-
templated as a reciprocal thing ; that only one half of its
powers resides within the nation, and that the whole is as
effectually destroyed by destroying the half that resides
without, as if the destruction had been committed on that
which is within ; for neither can act without the other.
When in the last, as well as in former wars, the com-
merce of England sunk, it Avas because the general quan-
tity was lessened everywhere : arid it now rises, because
commerce is in a rising state in every nation. If England,
at this day,* imports and exports more than at any for-
* This was written in 1792.
COM3IERCE. 205
mer period, the nations with which she trades must neces-
sarily do the same ; her imports are their exports, and
vice versa.
There can be no such thing as a nation flourishing- alone
in commerce; she can only participate; and the destruc-
tion of it in any part must necessarily affect all. When,
therefore, governments are at war, the attack is made upon
the common stock of commerce, and the consequence is the
same as if each had attacked his own.
It is worth remarking, that every nation reckons the
balance of trade in its own favour ; and therefore something
must be irregular in the common ideas upon this subject.
The fact, however, is true, according to what is called a
balance ; and it is from this cause that commerce is univer-
sally supported. Every nation feels the advantage, or it
would abandon the practice : but the deception lies in the
mode of making up the accounts, and in attributing what
are called profits to a wrong cause.
No balance, therefore, as applying to superior advantages,
can be drawn from those documents ; and if we examine
the natural operation of commerce, the idea is fallacious ;
and if true, would soon be injurious. The great support
of commerce consists in the balance being a level of bene-
fits among all nations.
Two merchants of different nations trading together, will
both become rich, and each makes the balance in his own
favour; consequently, they do not get rich out of each
other ; and it is the same with respect to the nations in
which they reside. The case must be, that each nation
must get rich out of its own means, and increase those riches
by something which it procures from another in exchange.
If a merchant in England sends an article of English
manufacture abroad, which costs him a shilling at home,
and imports something which sells for two, he makes a
balance of one shilling in his own favour ; but this is not
gained out of the foreign nation or the foreign merchant,
for he also does the same by the article he receives, and
neither has a balance of advantage upon the other. The
original value of the two articles in their rjroper countries
was but two shillings ; but by changing their places, they
acquire a new idea of value, equal to double what they had
at hrst, and that increased value is equally divided.
208 COMMERCE.
There is no otherwise a balance on foreign than on do-
mestic commerce. The merchants of London and New-
castle trade on the same principles as if they resided in
different nations, and make their balances in the same man-
ner : yet London does not get rich out of Newcastle, any
more than Newcastle out of London : but coals, the mer-
chandise of Newcastle, have an additional value at Lon-
don, and London merchandise has the same at New-
castle.
Though the principle of all commerce is the same, the
domestic, in a national vieWj is the part the most beneficial ;
because, the whole of the advantages, on both sides, rests
within the nation.; whereas, in foreign commerce, it is only
a participation of one half.
The most unprofitable of all commerce is that connected
with foreign dominion. To a few individuals it may be
beneficial, merely because it is commerce ; but to the na-
tion it is a loss. The expense of maintaining dominion
more than absorbs the profits of any trade. It does not
increase the general quantity in the world, but operates to
lessen it; and as a greater mass would be afloat by relin-
quishing dominion, the participation without the expense
would be more valuable, than a greater quantity with it.
But it is impossible to engross commerce by dominion ;
and therefore it is still more fallacious. It cannot exist in
confined channels, and necessarily breaks out by regular or
irregular means, that defeat the attempt ; and* to succeed
would be still worse. France, since the revolution, has
been more than indifferent as to foreign possessions ; and
other nations will become the same, when they investigate
the subject w r ith respect to commerce. %
To the expense of dominion is to be added that of navies,
and when the amount of the two are subtracted from the
profits of commerce, it will appear, that what is called the
balance of trade, even admitting it to exist, is not enjoyed
by the nation, but absorbed by the government.
" The idea qf having navies for the protection of commerce
is delusive. It is putting the means of destruction for the
means of protection. Commerce needs no other protec-
tion than the reciprocal interest which every nation feels in
supporting it it is common stock it exists by a balance
of advantages to all; and the only interruption it meets, is
COMMERCE. 207
from the present uncivilized state of governments, and
which it is its common interest to reform.* Paine.
Peace is the natural effect of trade. Two nations who
traffic with each other become reciprocally dependent ; for
if one has an interest in buying, the other has an interest
iu selling ; and thus their union is founded on their mutual
necessities. But if the spirit of commerce unites nations,
it does not in the same manner unite individuals. We see,
that i countries where the people move only by the spirit
of commerce, they make a traffic of all the humane, all the
moral virtues ; the most trifling things, those which hu-
manity would demand, are there done, or there given, only
for money. The spirit of trade produces in the mind of
man a certain sense of exact justice, opposite on the one
hand to robbery, and on the other to those moral virtues
which forbid our always adhering rigidly to the rules of
private interest. Montesquieu.
* When I saw Mr. Pitt's mode of estimating the balance of
trade, in one of his parliamentary speeches, he appeared to me
to know nothing of the nature and interest of commerce ; and
no man has more wantonly tortured it than himself. During a
period of peace, it has been havocked with the calamities of
war. Three times has it been thrown into stagnation, and the
vessels unmanned by impressing, within less than four years of
peace.
PART IV.
OF PROPERTY.
CHAPTER I.
PRIVATE PROPERTY.
IF you should see a flock of pigeons in a field of corn ;
and if (instead of each picking where and what it liked,
taking just as much as it wanted, and no more) you should
see ninety-nine of them gathering all they got into a heap ;
reserving nothing for themselves but the chaff and the re-
fuse ; keeping this heap for one, and that the weakest, per-
haps worst, pigeon of the flock ; sitting round, and looking
on, all the winter, whilst this one was devouring, throwing
about, and wasting it; and if a pigeon, more hardy or
hungry than the rest, touched a grain of the hoard, all the
others instantly flying upon it, and tearing it to pieces ; if
you should see this, you would see nothing more than
what is every day practised and established among men.
Among men, you see the ninety and nine toiling and
scraping together a heap of superfluities for one (and this
one, too, oftentimes the feeblest and worst of the whole
set ; a child, a woman, a madman, or a fool) ; getting no-
thing for themselves all the while, but a little of the coarsest
of the provision which their own industry produces ; look-
ing quietly on, while they see the fruits 'of all their labour
spent or spoiled ; and if one of the number take or touch
a particle of the hoard, the others joining against him, and
hanging him for the theft !
There must be some very important advantages to ac-
count for an institution which, in the view of it above
given, is so paradoxical and unnatural.
PRIVATE PROPERTY. 209
The principal of these advantages are the following :
I. It increases the produce of the earth.
The earth, in climates like ours, produces little without
cultivation : and none would be found willing to cultivate
the ground, if others were to be admitted to an equal share
of the produce. The same is true of the care of flocks and
herds of tame animals.
Crabs and acorns, red deer, rabbits, game, and fish, are
all which we should have to subsist upon in this country,
if we trusted to the spontaneous productions of the soil ;
and it fares not much better with other countries. A na-
tion of North- American savages, consisting of two or three
hundred, will take up, and be half-straved upon a tract of
land, which in Europe, and with European management,
would be sufficient for the maintenance of as many thou-
sands.
In some fertile soils, together with great abundance of
fish upon their coasts, and in regions where clothes are un-
necessary, a considerable degree of population may subsist
without property in land ; which is the case in the islands
of Otaheite : but in less favoured situations, as in the
country of New Zealand, though this sort of property ob-
tain, in a small degree, the inhabitants, for want of a more
secure and regular establishment of it, are driven often-
times by the scarcity of provision, to devour one another.
I 1. It preserves the produce of the earth to maturity.
We may judge what would be the effects of a commu-
nity of right to the productions of the earth, from the tri-
fling specimens which we see of it at present. A cherry-
tree in a hedge-row, nuts in a wood, the grass of an un-
stinted pasture, are seldom of much advantage to any
body, because people do not wait for the proper season of
reaping them. Corn, if any were sown, would never
ripen ; lambs and calves would never grow up to sheep
and cows, because the first person that met them would
reflect, that he had better take them as they are, than leave
them for another.
III. It prevents contests.
War and waste, tumult and confusion, must be unavoid-
able and eternal, where there is not enough for all, and
where there are no rules to adjust the division.
IV. It improves the conveniency of living.
This it does two ways. It enables mankind to divide
XIV. p
210 OF PROPERTY.
themselves into distinct professions ; which is impossible,
unless a man can exchange the productions of his own art
for what he wants from others ; and exchange implies pro-
perty. Much of the advantage of civilized over savage
life, depends upon this. When a man is from necessity
his own tailor, tent-maker, carpenter, cook, huntsman, and
fisherman, it is not probable that he will be expert at any
of his callings. Hence the rude habitations, furniture,
clothing, and implements of savages; and the tedious
length of time which all their operations require.
It likewise encourages those arts, by which the accom-
modations of human life are supplied, by appropriating to
the artist the benefit of his discoveries and improvements ;
without which appropriation, ingenuity will never be
exerted with effect.
Upon these several accounts we may venture, with a
few exceptions, to pronounce, that even the poorest and
the worst provided, in countries where property and the
consequences of property prevail, are in a better situation,
with respect to food, raiment, houses, and what are called
the necessaries of life, than any are in places where most
things remain in common.
The balance, therefore, upon the whole, must prepon-
derate in favour of property with a manifest and great
excess.
Inequality of property, in the degree in which it exists in
most countries of Europe, abstractedly considered, is an
evil : but it is an evil which flows from those rules con-
cerning the acquisition and disposal of property, by which
men are incited to industry, and by which the object of
their industry is rendered secure and valuable. If there
be any great inequality unconnected with this origin, it
ought to be corrected. Paley.
The fruitful source of crimes consists in one man's pos-
sessing in abundance that of which another man is desti-
tute. The spirit of oppression, the spirit of servility, and
the spirit of fraud, are the immediate growth of the esta-
blished system of property. The other vices of envy,
malice, and revenge, are their inseparable companions. In
a state of society where men lived in the midst of plenty,
and where all shared alike the bounties of nature, these
sentiments would inevitably expire. Property brings
home a servile and truckling spirit, by no circuitous me-
PRIVATE PROPERTY. 211
thod, to every house in the nation. Observe the pauper
fawning with abject vileness upon his rich benefactor, and
speechless with sensations of gratitude for having received
that which he ought to have claimed with an erect mien,
and with a consciousness that his claim was irresistible.
Observe the servants that follow in a rich man's train,
watchful of his looks, anticipating his commands, not dar-
ing to reply to his insolence, all their time and their efforts
under the direction of his caprice. Observe the trades-
man, how he studies the passions of his customers, not to
correct but to pamper them ; the vileness of his flattery,
and the systematic constancy with which he exaggerates
the merit of his commodities.
Ambition is of all the passions of the human mind the
most extensive in its ravages. It adds district to district,
and kingdom to kingdom. It spreads bloodshed, and
calamity, and conquest over the face of the earth. But the
passion itself, as well as the means of gratifying it, is the
produce of the prevailing system of property. It is only by
means of accumulation that one man obtains an unresisted
sway over multitudes of others. It is only by means of
a certain distribution of income, that the present govern-
ments of the world are retained in existence. Nothing
more easy than to plunge nations so organised into war. It
is clear, that war in every horrid form is the growth of pro-
perty. It is property that forms men into one common inass >
and makes them fit to be played upon like a mute machine.
Godwin.
In the most refined states of Europe, the inequality of
property has risen to an alarming height. Vast numbers of
their inhabitants are deprived of almost every accommodation
that can render life tolerable or secure. Their utmost
industry scarcely suffices for their support. The women
and children lean with an insupportable weight upon the
efforts of the man, so that a large family has, in the lower
order of life, become a proverbial expression for an uncom-
mon degree of poverty and wretchedness. If sickness, or
some of those casualties which are perpetually incident
to an active and laborious life, he superadded to these bur-
dens, the distress is still greater. Godwin.
It is contrary to the divine laws of nature that some mor-
tals should superabound and luxuriate in what is necessary
and useful, and also in what is useless and injurious";
p 2
212 OF PROPERTY.
while from the great mass of their fellow beings the means
are thereby withheld by which their invaluable capacities,
physical, mental, and moral, ought to be well cultivated for
their own advantage, and for the benefit of the world. It
is contrary to the well-being, and best and highest
interest of society, and of every individual of w r hich it is
composed, that the enormous, almost incalculable pro-
ductive power which modern science has placed at the
disposal of man, and all his superior as well as his inferior
faculties, should be employed day by day, and year after
year, with energy and talent, in fruitless attempts to create
a sufficiency of wealth and privilege for the individual, in
opposition and competition with all other individuals. It
is the direct application of the mighty energies, powers,
and capacities, physical and mental, to produce that which,
when attained to the greatest possible extent, for the indi-
vidual, is useless, burdensome, and often highly injurious
to the imagined successful possessor.
The arrangements which are requisite to enable indivi-
duals to obtain and secure for their own use only private
property, necessarily render it'impracticable that any indi-
vidual should attain, under those arrangements, the free
and beneficial use of as much property as all may enjoy
under another system, in which no permanent private
property shall be'necessary, or even desired by any one.
The certain consequence of a system founded on private
property is to produce an hostile and unnatural state of
society, by which very great additional labour will be
required to create comparatively a very small amount of
available wealth for the population individually or in the
aggregate. In consequence of each individual being
opposed in his attempts to acquire wealth by all the other
members of the community, in the endeavours to accumu-
late it also, an addition is unavoidably made to the whole
labour of society, of which no one trained in, and remain-
ing under, the influence of the individual system, can form
any adequate conception. The individual competition
and contest for private wealth may be aptly com-
pared to forces of nearly equal powers acting continually
in opposition to each other ; and, in consequence, the
efforts of one counteracted by the efforts of others in every
direction in which it may attempt to proceed, the energies
of all become nearly equipoised, and the power of the whole
PRIVATE PROPERTY. 213
is rendered of little or no effect. By these proceedings,
under this wretchedly insane system, not one portion'of
real, intrinsic, valuable wealth is brought into existence for
the benefit of mankind, for a hundred, or more correctly for
a thousand, that, under a rational system for the creation
of wealth, would be obtained for the use of the world ; and
obtained with half of the physical exertions, and without
any of the mental anxieties, which the existing vile prac-
tices of society require.
The arrangements which are required to establish and
support a system of private property, render it absolutely
necessary to create measures to prevent the production of
a sufficiency of the necessaries and comforts of life for a
very large portion of the community, and to implant in
childhood, and to cultivate through life, the most inferior
and injurious feelings and passions, rendering society a
chaos of the most incongruous proceedings injurious to
young and old, rich and poor, the governors and the
governed.
A priesthood, with all its mental oppression, unavoid-
able hypocrisy, and pecuniary exactions, is necessary to aid
in obtaining and securing private property ; and to effect
these objects, they must teach doctrines which implant all
the inferior and injurious feelings and passions, which can
be forced into the human mind. The complicated, per-
plexed, inconsistent, unjust, and wretchedly-injurious sys-
tem of laws, is also required to support the system of pri-
vate property, although by its support thousands are de-
prived of all the private property which they have acquired
through many years of toil and anxiety. All the direct
expense of law-suits and of the machinery of law; all the
time of those engaged in this profession ; all the time of
the suitors in the various courts ; all the anxieties which
they experience to withdraw attention from other and more
beneficial pursuits ; all the heart-burnings, agitations, and
quarrels, which law contests create, to occupy the time
and attention of the parties; are all direct deductions from
the amount of real and valuable wealth, that, without
anxiety and unpleasant feelings of any kind, would be other-
wise created.
The complicated arrangements necessary to procure
and obtain all the rights, as they are termed, of private pro-
perty, are measures necessarily and unavoidably productive
214 PRIVATE PROPERTY IN LAND.
of motives to the commission of an incalculable extent of
crimes, and of forming society into a machine too complex
to be understood by almost any mind, in consequence
of the innumerable laws, customs, and regulations, which
become requisite to meet the growing evils which daily
arise, while property is accumulating in the hands of a few,
and diminishing iii proportion in the possession of the
many ; or while the extension of inequality of rank and
condition is upon the increase. Owen.
CHAPTER II.
PRIVATE PROPERTY IN LAND.
THERE is nothing which so generally strikes the imagi-
nation, and engages the affections of mankind, as the right
of property j or that sole and despotic dominion which one
man claims and exercises over the external things of the
world, in total exclusion of the right of any other individual
in the universe. And yet there are very few, that will give
themselves the trouble to consider the original arid founda-
tion of this right. Pleased as we are with the possession,
we seem afraid to look back to the means by which it was
acquired, as if fearful of some defect in our title ; or at best
we rest satisfied with the decision of the laws in our favour,
without examining the reason or authority upon which
those laws have been built. We think it enough that our
title is derived by the grant of the former proprietor, by de-
scent from our ancestors, or by the last will and testament
of the dying owner ; not caring to reflect that (accurately
and strictly speaking) there is no foundation in nature or in
natural law, why a set of words upon parchment should
convey the dominion of land ; why the son should have a
right to exclude his fellow-creatures from a determinate
spot of ground, because his father had done so before him ;
or why the occupier of a particular field or jewel, when
lying on his death-bed and no longer able to maintain pos-
session, should be entitled to tell the rest of the world
which of them should enjoy it after him. These inquiries,
it must be owned, would be useless and even troublesome
PRIVATE PROPERTY IN LAND. 215
in common life. It is well if the mass of mankind will
obey the laws when made, without scrutinizing too nicely
into the reasons of making them. But, when law is
considered not only as matter of practice, but also as
a rational science, it cannot be improper or useless to
examine more deeply the rudiments and grounds of these
positive constitutions of society.
In the beginning of the world, we are informed by holy
writ, the all-bountiful Creator gave to man " dominion over
all the earth ; and over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl
of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the
earth." This is the only true and solid foundation of man's
dominion over external things, whatever airy metaphysical
notions may have been started by fanciful writers upon this
subject. The earth, therefore, and all things therein, are
the general property of all mankind, exclusive of other
beings, from the immediate gift of the Creator. And,
while the earth continued bare of inhabitants, it is reason-
able to suppose, that all was in common among them, and
that every one took from the public stock to his own use
such things as his immediate necessities required.
********
Not that this communion of goods seems ever to
have been applicable, even in the earliest ages, to aught
but the substance of the thing ; nor could it be extended
to the use of it. For, by the law of nature and reason, he,
who first began to use it, acquired therein a kind of transi-
ent property, that lasted so long as he was using it, and no
longer: or, to speak with greater precision, the right of
possession continued for the same time only that the act
of possession lasted. Thus the ground was in common,
and no part of it was the permanent property of any man in
particular; yet whoever was in the occupation of any deter-
mined spot of it, for rest, for shade, or the like, acquired for
the time a sort of ownership, from which it would have
been unjust, and contrary to the law of nature, to have
driven him by force; but the instant that he quitted the use
or occupation of it, another might seize it without injustice.
Thus also a vine or other tree might be said to be in com-
mon, as all men were equally entitled to its produce ; and yet
any private individual might gain the sole property of the
fruit, which he had gathered for his own repast. A doc-
trine well illustrated by Cicero, who compares the world
216 PRIVATE PROPERTY IN LAND.
to a great theatre, which is common to the public, and yet
the place which any man has taken is for the time his
own.
But when mankind increased in number, craft, and ambi-
tion, it became necessary to entertain conceptions of more
permanent dominion ; and to appropriate to individuals not
the immediate use only, but the very substance of the
thing to be used. Otherwise innumerable tumults must
have arisen, and the good order of the world been contin-
ually broken and disturbed, while a variety of persons were
striving who should get the first occupation of the same
thing, or disputing which of them had actually gained it.
As human life also grew more and more refined, abun-
dance of conveniences were devised to render it more easy,
commodious, and agreeable; as, habitations for shelter
and safety, and raiment for warmth and decency. But no
man would be at the trouble to provide either, so long as he
had only an usufructuary property in them, which was
to cease the instant that he quitted possession : if, as soon
as he walked out of his tent, or pulled off his garment, the
next stranger who came would have a right to inhabit the
one, and to wear the other. In the case of habitations in
particular, it was natural to observe, that even the brute
creation, to whom every thing else was in common, main-
tained a kind of permanent property in their dwellings,
especially for the protection of their young ; that the birds
of the air had nests, and the beast of the fields had
caverns, the invasion of which they esteemed a very
flagrant injustice, and would sacrifice their lives to preserve
them. Hence a property was soon established in every
man's house and home-stall ; which seem to have been ori-
ginally mere temporary huts or moveable cabins, suited to
the design of Providence for more speedily peopling the
earth, and suited to the wandering life of their owners,
before any extensive property in the soil or ground
was established. And there can be no doubt, but that
moveables of every kind became sooner appropriated than
the permanent substantial soil : partly because they were
more susceptible of a long occupancy, which might be con-
tinued for months together without any sensible interrup-
tion, and at length by usage ripen into an established
right; but principally because few of them could be
fit for use, till improved and meliorated by the bodily
PRIVATE PROPERTY IN LAND. 217
labour of the occupant : which bodily labour, bestowed
upon any subject which before lay in common to all men,
is universally allowed to give the fairest and most rea-
sonable title to an exclusive property therein.
The article of food was a more immediate call, and
therefore a more early consideration. Such as were not
contented with the spontaneous product of the earth,
sought for a more solid refreshment in the flesh of beasts,
which they obtained by hunting. But the frequent disap-
pointments incident to that method of provision, induced
them to gather together such animals as were of a more
tame and sequacious nature ; and to establish a permanent
property in their flocks and herds, in order to sustain them-
selves in a less precarious manner, partly by the milk
of the dams, and partly by the flesh of the young. The
support of their cattle made the article of water also a very
important point. And therefore the Book of Genesis (the
most venerable monument of antiquity, considered merely
with a view r to history) will furnish us with frequent
instances of violent contentions concerning wells ; the
exclusive property of which appears to have been estab-
lished in the first digger or occupant, even in such places
where the ground and herbage remained yet in common.
Thus we find Abraham, who was but a sojourner, asserting
his right to a well in the county of Abimelech, and
exacting an oath for his security, " because he had digged
that well." And Isaac, about ninety years afterwards,
reclaimed this his father's property ; and, after much con-
tention with the Philistines, was suffered to enjoy it in
peace.
All this while the soil and pasture of the earth remained
still in common as before, and open to every occupant : ex-
cept perhaps in the neighboured of towns, where the
necessity of a sole and exclusive property in lands (for
the sake of agriculture) was earlier felt, and therefore more
readily complied with. Otherwise, when the multitude of
men and cattle had consumed every convenience on
one spot of ground, it was deemed a natural right to seize
upon and occupy such other lands as w r ould more easily
supply their necessities.
******
Upon the same principle was founded the right of migra-
tion, or sending colonies to find out new habitations, when
218 PRIVATE PROPERTY IN LAND.
the mother-country was overcharged with inhabitants;
which was practised as well by the Phoenicians and
Greeks as the Germans, Scythians, and other northern
people. And, so long as it was confined to the stocking
and cultivation of desert, uninhabited countries, it kept
strictly within the limits of the law of nature. But how
far the seizing on countries already 'peopled, and driving
out or massacreing the innocent and defenceless natives,
merely because they differed from their invaders in lan-
guage, in religion, in customs, in government, or in colour ;
how far such a conduct was consonant to nature, to reason,
or to Christianity, deserved well to be considered by those
who have rendered their names immortal by thus civilizing
mankind.
As the w r orld by degrees grew more populous, it daily
became more difficult to find out new spots to inhabit,
without encroaching upon former occupants : and by con-
stantly occupying the same individual spot, the fruits of
the earth were consumed, and its spontaneous produce
destroyed, without any provision for a future supply or suc-
cession. It therefore became necessary to pursue some
regular method of providing a constant subsistence ; and
this necessity produced, or at least promoted and encou-
raged, the art of agriculture. And the art of agriculture, by
a regular connexion and consequence, introduced and
established the idea of a more permanent property in the
soil, than had hitherto been received arid adopted. It was
clear that the earth would not produce her fruits in suffi-
cient quantities, without the assistance of tillage : but who
would be at the pains of tilling it, if another might watch
an opportunity to seize upon arid enjoy the product of his
industry, art, and labour? Had not therefore a separate
property in lands, as well as moveables, been vested in
some individuals, the world must have continued a forest,
and men have been mere animals of prey ; which, accord-
ing to some philosophers, is the genuine state of nature.
Whereas now (so graciously has Providence interwoven
our duty and our happiness together) the result of this
very necessity has been the ennobling of the human species,
by giving it opportunities of improving its rational faculties,
as well as of exerting its natural. Necessity begat pro-
perty : and, in order to insure that property, recourse was
had to civil society, which brought along with it a long
PRIVATE PROPERTY IN LAND. 219
train of inseparable concomitants : states, government,
laws, punishments, and the public exercise of religious
duties. Thus connected together, it was found that a part,
only of society was sufficient to provide, by their manual
labour, for the necessary subsistence of all; and leisure
was given to others to cultivate the human mind, to invent
useful arts, and to lay the foundations of science.
The only question remaining is, how this property
became actually vested: or what it is that gave a man
an exclusive right to retain in a permanent manner that
specific land, which before belonged generally to every
body, but particularly to nobody. And, as we before ob-
served that occupancy gave right to the temporary use
of the soil, so it is agreed upon all hands that occupancy
gave also the original right to the permanent property
in the substance of the earth itself; which excludes every
one else but the owner from the use of it. Blackstone.
******
The first person, who, having enclosed a piece of ground,
bethought himself of saying, This is mine, and found people
simple enough to believe him, was the real founder of civil
society. From how many enemies, battles, and murders,
from how many horrors and misfortunes, would that man
have saved mankind, who should have pulled up the stakes,
or filled up the ditch, crying out to his fellows, " Beware of
listening to this impostor; you are undone if you once
forget that the fruits of the earth belong to us all, and that
the earth belongs to nobody." Rousseau.
There is a difficulty in explaining the origin of this
property, consistently with the law of nature ; for the land
was once, no doubt, common ; and the question is, how
any particular part of it could justly be taken out of the
common, and so appropriated to the first owner, as to give
him a better right to it than others ; and, what is more, a
right to exclude all others from it.
Moralists have given many different accounts of this
matter; which diversity alone, perhaps, is a proof that
none of them are satisfactory.
One tells us that mankind, when they suffered a par-
ticular person to occupy a piece of ground, by tacit con-
sent relinquished their right to it; and as the piece of
ground, they say, belonged to mankind collectively, and
mankind thus gave up their right to the first peaceable
220 PRIVATE PROPERTY IN LAND.
occupier, it thenceforward became his property, and no
one afterward had a right to molest him in it.
The objection to this account is, that consent can never
be presumed from silence, where the person whose consent
is required knows nothing about the matter; which must
have been the case with all mankind, except the neigh-
bourhood of the place where the appropriation was made.
And to suppose that the piece of ground previously be-
longed to the neighbourhood, and that they had a just
power of conferring a right to it upon whom they pleased,
is to suppose the question resolved, and a partition of land
to have already taken place.
Another says, that each man's limbs and labour are his
own exclusively ; that, by occupying a piece of ground, a
man inseparably mixes his labour with it ; by which means
the piece of ground becomes thenceforward his own, as you
cannot take it from him without depriving him at the same
time of something which is indisputably his.
This is Mr. Locke's solution ; and seems indeed a fair
reason, where the value of the labour bears a considerable
proportion to the value of the thing ; or where the thing
derives its chief use and value from the labour. Thus
game and fish, though they be common whilst at large in
the woods or water, instantly become the property of the
person that catches them ; because an animal, when caught,
is much more valuable than when at liberty; and this
increase of value, which is inseparable from, and makes a
great part of, the whole value, is strictly the property of
the fowler or fisherman, being the produce of his personal
labour. For the same reason, wood or iron, manufactured
into utensils, becomes the property of the manufacturer ;
because the value of the workmanship far exceeds that of
the materials. And, upon a similar principle, a parcel of
unappropriated ground, which a man should pare, burn,
plough, harrow, and sow, for the production of corn, would
O Jl enough be thereby made his own. B 
