THE SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY OF CAPITAL
THE SOCIOLOGICAL
THEORY OF CAPITAL
BEING A COMPLETE REPRINT OF THE
NEW PRINCIPLES OF POLITICAL
ECONOMY, 1834
BY
JOHN RAE, M.A.
SOMETIME MASTER OF THE GORE DISTRICT GRAMMAR SCHOOL, HAMILTON, ONTARIO
AND DISTRICT JUSTICE AT HANA, EAST MAUI, HAWAIIAN ISLANDS
EDITED, WITH BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH AND NOTES, BY
CHARLES WHITNEY MIXTER, PH.D.
PROFESSOR OF POLITICAL ECONOMY IN THE
UNIVERSITY OF VERMONT
|leto
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
LONDON : MACMILLAN AND Qp_. A LIMITED
1905
<:' fh-
1075491
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GLASGOW : PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS
' BT ROBERT MACLEHOSE AND CO. LTD.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
AND SUMMARY OF PRINCIPLES
[NTRODUCTION,
CHAPTER I.
I [Or ECONOMIC AMBITION AND THE MEANS ESSENTIAL TO
ITS KKALI/ATION],
It is characteristic of man to provide for the wants of the
tuture, by the formation of instruments ; and his power to
make this provision is measured by the extent and accuracy
of his knowledge of the course of natural events.
CHAPTER II.
ClBOUMSTANi HI COMMON TO ALL INSTRUMENTS
AM> OF THOSE PROPER TO SOME, . . . . 19
in- tln.-e circumstances common to all instruments.
(1) They <>r receive a capacity to produce certain
supply future wants, by labour [applied to
nils,] either directly or indirectly. (2) Before tlu-ir
capacity is exi ,n<\ th-y pass from thr tank of
t<> th.it of materials, tin \ yid.l
a return, or produn.- < itain t-vmts fitted to supply futuiv
wants, which may be estimated in labour. :>, li, i
riod of their formation and that of their exham
a space of tinn *. Some iiiMtrmncMts can be <
moveil from plare to plice, others cannot. The former are
d goods or .'Miiiiio'litiea.
\i TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER III.
PAGE
OF CERTAIN CIRCUMSTANCES ARISING FROM THE INSTI-
TUTION OF SOCIETY, 25
.Statement of some generally admitted principles concerning
the nature of man and of society, which it is necessary to
assume in the progress of the subsequent investigations.
CHAPTER IV.
[A METHOD FOR THE COMPARISON OF INSTRUMENTS], . 31
Every instrument may be arranged in some part of a series,
of which the orders are determined, by the proportions
existing between the labour expended in the formation of
instruments, the capacity given to them, and the time
elapsing from the period of formation to that of exhaustion.
CHAPTER V.
[Or CERTAIN TECHNICAL] CIRCUMSTANCES GOVERNING THE
AMOUNT OF INSTRUMENTS FORMED, . . . . 42
In every society considerably advanced in art, that is, in
every society the members of which have acquired an exten-
sive knowledge of the trains of events supplying the wants of
man, which the materials they possess [when formed into
instruments] are capable of generating, there is no assignable
limit to the capacity that may be given to these materials,
or to the amount of [contrived] events which the instruments
that may be formed out of them may bring to pass ; but
that capacity cannot be indefinitely increased without carry-
ing the stock of instruments owned by the society to an
order of slower return that is to say, without [either]
extending the period between their formation and exhaus-
tion, or diminishing their return [in proportion to the outlay
on their construction]. It so happens, that, other circum-
stances being equal, [that is, principally, in the absence of
increase of knowledge], the wider the circle of events
embraced [or, of materials with which "natural events" are
associated], the returns made by the instruments constructed
take place in a more distant futurity. [In other words, with
mere non-inventive expansion of instrumental production,
the rate of return declines ; because the results are achieved
either with greater outlay or more tardily.]
TABLE OF CONTENTS vii
CHAPTER VI.
PACK
OF THE ClRCUMSTANCKS WHICH DETERMINE THE STRENGTH
OF THE KlTF.rriVK 1>!>1KE OF ACCUMULATION, . 52
The order to which the instruments formed by any society
will be carried, is fixed by the relative estimation of
its members of events taking place at present, and at a
future period, which is denominated the, effective desire of
accumulation. This is chiefly determined (1) by the dis-
tinctness of the mind's conception of future events, which
again depends on the strength of the intellectual powers ;
(2) on the desire felt for the production of practicable future
events. The latter circumstance is regulated by the strength
of the moral powers, or what in these investigations are
U-rmed the social and benevolent affections. As the exist-
ence of the individual is precarious, and his power of enjoy-
ment continually diminishing, the more the state of feeling
and action pervading any community separates individuals
from one another, the more limited will be the range of events
[or materials] which the effective desire of accumulation of
the members of that community will embrace. On the con-
trary, as, though individuals perish the race remains, the
more the interests of the individual are identified with those
of others, the wider will be the circle of events which the
accumulative principle will comprehend. Isolation of feeling
and action weakens the accumulative principle by separating
the interests of individuals, and so contracting its sphere of
operation ; community of feeling and action strengthens it,
by connecting* the interests of individuals, and exciting them
to comprelu-inl within the circle of their operations a more
extended series of events.
CHAPTKK VII.
< M SOME OF TIII: I'HKNOMENA ARISING FROM THI: I MITKKKNT
I>I:<;REES OF STRKN.TII Of THI EfTO nvi: DCBIRI 01
Acer MI i .\ii"N IN IMI i KIIKNT Socii :m>, ... 65
Hate of feeling ;unl action, tin h of
the effective desire of accumulation, the orders of m-ti mueiiU
in.- <>f the circumstances thus produced, among hunting
and pastoral nations, in the Chim-Hr Kinjiii.-. m nmdcm
i n long the ancient Romans.
viii TABLK OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER VIII.
i'\i;i:
OFTHK DIVISION OF EMPLOYMENTS, AND OF OTHER PHENO-
MKNA I'Kol.rrKD BY EFFORTS TO ACCELERATE THE
KXHATSTION OK iNSTKl MKNTS, . . . * . . l<)l_>
When in consequence of the progress of art [invention] and
the strength of the accumulative principle, there, are many
extended trains of [contrived] events, or arts, going on in any
society, and when, consequently, there exist many sets of
tools or instruments producing them, each individual betakes
himself to the production [conduct] of some particular train,
and to the formation of the instruments necessary for carry-
ing it on. By this means, no instruments lie idle, which
must be the case were every man to practise several arts ;
and, consequently, they are more speedily exhausted, and
pass to orders of quicker return. This division of employ-
ments introduces the necessity of the exchange of com-
modities. The exchange of commodities is regulated by the
labour respectively expended on them, in conjunction with
the time at which it was expended, reckoning the effects of
the latter by the orders at which instruments actually stand,
[which last determines the prevailing rate of profit at any
time]. The existence of exchange occasions a choice being
made of some commodity, which is kept [uniquely made use
of] for the purpose of being exchanged with all others, and so
comes to name the rates at which they exchange, or to fix
[express] their values. The commodity chosen for this pur-
pose is termed money, and, among communities possessing
the precious metals, consists of them. Exchanges are also
effected by means of credit. . . . The general prevalence of
credit, and of the use of money, has produced the [customary]
mercantile mode of calculating the returns of instruments, by
profits and interest. [This system of calculation, while exceed-
ingly advantageous in the conduct of affairs, is a serious
impediment to the philosophical understanding of capital.]
CHAPTER IX.
[Or INVENTION CONSIDERED AS A GENERAL SOCIOLOGICAL
PRINCIPLE], 132
[It is necessary to investigate the causes of progress in any
department of human affairs, and not to take them for
granted, man being essentially imitative. Motives exciting
to innovation and the opposing forces external to and within
the inventor. Though in respect to the individual, mani-
festations of the inventive faculty imply a superiority in
TABLE OF COM FATS ix
PAOB
some of the intellectual powers, in respect to a society they
imply a preponderance of the social and benevolent affections.
One of the final and contingent results, however, of intestine
commotions, persecutions, wars, and the like, seems to be to
advance the inventive faculty.]
CHAPTER X
m. CAUSES OF THE PROGRESS OF INVENTION AND OF
THK KKFECTS ARISING FROM IT, [AS IT CON > T.I; v-
\\ITH THK MATERIAL WORLD], . . . 151
Invention, the discovery of new possible existence*, becomes
an active principle by exerting a formative power on old
t.1 exintences. By reason of the nature of the world in
which man lives, change exposes to his view new successions
of events, which excite him to observe them, and weaken the
retarding influence of the principle of servile imitation. The
effects on instruments of the progress of invention, are to
produce improvements in them, and to carry them on [back]
to orders of quicker return, [and so for the time being to
advance the rate of profit].
CHAPTER XL
K\i IIAN<;ES BETWEEN DIFFERENT COMMUNITIES [OF
CoMMoMTlES nTHER THAN LUXURIES], . . . 204
i mges between societies, [that is, between the members
of different societies,] are not directly regulated by the quan-
tity of labor, [plus the time of its outlay], expended on the
commodities exchanged. Increased facility in the exchange
of utilities [articles which are not luxuries] operates in the
same manner as the progress of invention and improvement,
and carries instruments to tin- m>n- ipiickly ivturning orders.
interruption of the exchange of such articles may have,
however, indirect effects precisely opposite to the direct
effects.]
CHAITKl; XII.
\\'ASTE, [OR PURE ECONOMIC Loss], . . . .213
The loss which, in any society, the capa tiuments
sustains by the operation <>f tr.md
lar causes], seems to be m-mly in\< r>< l\ ngth
of the accumulative principle ; .
x TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER XIII.
PAGE
OF THE EFFECTS RESULTING FROM DIVERSITIES OF STRENGTH
IN THE ACCl' MT LA II VE PRINCIPLE, IN MEMBERS OF THE
SAME SOCIETY, 218
In the same society, instruments (excepting those that cannot
be exchanged, forming a stock reserved for immediate con-
sumption) are kept at nearly the same orders, because
prodigals, or individuals in whom the accumulative principle
is weaker than the average, can exchange the instruments
they possess for more, according to their estimation of the
future and the present, than they are worth, and therefore
[do] transfer them ; while frugal persons, or individuals in
whom the accumulative principle is stronger than the average,
find exercise for it in acquiring instruments transferred by
prodigals. [It thus chiefly comes about that there is an
economic stratification of the members of each society. This
last leads to the consideration of some of the interrelations of
the principles of accumulation and of population.]
CHAPTER XIV.
OF THE PRINCIPLE OF THE DIVISION OF LABOUR, . . 237
The division of labour ought to be considered rather as a
result than a cause. [That is, it comes into existence through
the antecedent progress of invention. It is not, as Adam
Smith supposed, a prime mover in the course of human
affairs.]
APPENDIX.
ARTICLE I.
[OF THE NATURE AND EFFECTS] OF LUXURY, . . . :M5
There is a propensity among men to attain [a factitious]
superiority over one another. This may be termed vanity,
and is gratified by the evident possession of things which
others have not the means of acquiring. It calls for the
possession of commodities of which the consumption is
conspicuous, and which cost much labor, though not better
qualified, or but little better qualified, to supply real wants,
TABLK OF CONTENTS xi
PAGE
than other commodities costing little labor. The comparison
of the physical qualities of such commodities does not afford,
therefore, the means of measuring them by one another.
the assumption, on which the preceding investiga-
tions have proceeded, that all commodities compare with one
another by their physical qualities [by the physical "events"
they produce], is incorrect. In so far as any commodity,
when compared with another, excels it only in the gratifica-
tion it affords to vanity, it is to be considered a luxury ; in
so far as it compares with others in the capacity which its
physical qualities give it to gratify real wants, it is to be
considered as a utility. The progress of invention and improve-
ment have no effect in carrying instruments, directly or
indirectly producing luxuries, to more quickly returning
orders ; on the contrary, they carry them to the most slowly
returning orders of which the strength of the accumulative
principle admits the existence. The labor expended in
the formation of luxuries, is so much direct loss to the
ci'ininunity, one man's superiority being here equivalent to
another's inferiority. The amount thus dissipated depends
on the force of the social and benevolent affections, and
intellectual powers, as compared with that of the selfish
feelings, and is therefore, inversely as the strength of the
accumulative principle.
ARTICLE II.
[Or EXCHANGE I'.KTWF.KN IMFFEKENT COMMUNITIES OF
COMMODITIES WHICH MINISTER TO LUXURY], . . 277
Increased facility in the exchange of luxuries has an im-
im-.liate tendency (in contrast to what happens in the case of
utilities), to carry instruments to the more slowly returning
orders. [The first effects of restrictions upon trade in this
class of commodities, on the contrary, are beneficial, whereas
their ulterior effects may be injurious. The relative effects
of restriction and free com pi -tit ion, when oppmt unities for
observation present themselves, afford a means of ascertain
ing how far commodities are or are not luxuries.]
ARTICLI; in
< >r i in: OPERATIONS or im: LTMSLATOR ON Lun mrs . 286
The art of the legislator may apply to the purposes of the
state, funds naturally dissipated in luxuries.
xii TABLE OF CONTENTS
ARTICLE IV.
PAGE
[Or THE ART OF THE BANKER], 297
[PART L OF BANKING IN GENERAL.]
The modern art of banking consists in the generalization of
all credit transactions [throughout a community], and an
emission of paper money, or money of credit. Its introduc-
tion into any community by facilitating the exchange of
instruments, quickens their exhaustion [and formation], and
carries them to the more speedily returning orders.
[PART II. OF PARTICULAR SYSTEMS OF BANKING.]
[The Scotch banking system described and contrasted with
that of England. Further consideration of the utility of
banks in increasing the efficiency of the money of a com-
munity, whether specie or banker's money. Strictures upon
Adam Smith's views on monetary subjects.]
ARTICLE V.
OF THE WEALTH OF NATIONS AS A BRANCH OF THE PHILO-
SOPHY OF INDUCTION. [OF THE SPIRIT AND METHOD
OF SCIENCE] 329
Adam Smith's great work is to be considered as a philo-
sophical system, the object of which is to explain known
phenomena, on popular principles, not as an inductive
iii(|iiiry, leading to the discovery of the real laws deter-
mining the succession of those phenomena. [This last form
of procedure alone can claim the rank of true science.]
ARTICLE VI.
[Or THE THEORY OF POPULATION], 354
[It is an error to assimilate man to the lower animals as
regards the laws of his propagation. We have to take cog-
nizance of things psychological and social as well as of things
physiological and individual, and the former set of causes are
of predominating influence both in advancing and declining
states. The principle which increases and maintains the
numbers of mankind may be termed thr. effective desire of
TABLE OF CONTENTS xiii
ARTICLE VII.
PAGE
[Or THE DOCTRINE OF LAISSBZ FAIRE WITH SPECIAL
REFERENCE TO] THE OPERATIONS OF THE LEGISLATOR
IN IliLi.\;ix(i THE ARTS OF FOREIGN COUNTRIES TO
His ONVN 359
Instead of there being any grounds for a presumption against
legislative interference, from the assumption that nature
ought to be allowed to pursue her own plans ; the presump-
tion is, on the contrary, that nature gave man his peculiar
faculties for the purpose that universally, and as well here
as elsewhere, he might acquire the direction of events, by
discovering the laws regulating their successions.
ARTICLE VIII.
[Or THE SUPPOSED IDENTITY OF THE CAUSES GIVING RISE
TO INDIVIDUAL AND NATIONAL WEALTH], . . . 377
[PART I. WHEN ASSUMED AS A SELT- EVIDENT TRUTH.]
The causes giving rise to individual and national wealth are
not precisely the same. Individuals grow rich [generally and
characteristically] by the acquisition of wealth previously
existing; nations, by the creation of wealth that did not
before exist, [which last comes about through invention.]
[PART II. WHEN DEDUCED FROM AN INGENIOUS THEORY.]
The legislator may stimulate invention by the introduction of
new arts ; [that is, by the encouragement of the transfer of
old arts to a place where they are new, and where they make
adaptations to the changed physical and social environment.]
AUTHOR'S "NOTES," 448
RESIDUA, 466
READER'S GUIDE, . 484
EDITOR'S PREFACE.
THE original work of which this volume is a reprint, was
published in Boston in 1834 under the unfortunate title,
St<it o)i cut of Some New Principles on the Subject of
Political Economy, Exposing the Fallacies of the System
of Free Trade, and of Some other Doctrines Maintained
in the " Wealth of Nations." 1 This title was a misnomer,
for the chief part of the undertaking consisted not in
strictures on the doctrines of Adam Smith, but in an
independent, elaborate, and profound treatment of the
general subject of capital. It is this last which has recently
brought Rae into notice with the present generation of
lomists in connection with the w r orld-wide discussion of
c.ipital, upon new and fruitful lines, inaugurated by Bohm-
Bawerk.
I may add here that the first article by me upon Rae
("A Forerunner of Bohm-Bawerk," Quarterly Journal of
tunnies, January, 1897), had a title which was also in
great measure a misnomer. Rae is not a mere " anticipator
1 It was divide.! into three "Books" named respectively " Individual and
National Interests are not Identical" (two chapters, 77 pages); "Of the
Nature of Stock and of the Laws governing ita Increase and Diminution"
ii chapters and an "appendix," 280 pages) ; and "Of the Operations of
th- legislator on National Stock" (three chapters, 29 pages). To this were
added twenty-seven pages of "Notes" at the oml f tho volume.
Of the several defects in book-making which seriously handicapped the
\\ U, the most considerable was the putting first of all of two long-drawn out
chapters, highly controversial in their nature, and l>y far tin- mo.st ditlicult in
nust be that many a reader never got beyond or even through
them.
xvi EDITOR'S PREFACE
of the discoverer" (to use one of Cannan's phrases), hut
the discoverer himself. By reason of the lack of a theory
of invention, Bohm-Bawerk's doctrine of capital, although
coming much later, is in essentials the less complete of thr
two. This contention I have attempted to substantial <
in my second article (" Bohm-Bawerk on Bae," Quarterly
Journal of Economics, May, 1902) reviewing Chapter XI.
of the second edition of the Geschichte und Critik d<r
Capitalzins-Theorien.
In view of the chief interest which now attaches to Rae's
work, it has been deemed advisable, in response to numerous
demands, to bring out this republication in an entirely new
dress. That part of the second " Book " (the greater part)
which possesses a unity of its own, and which deals pre-
dominantly with the subject of capital, is given precedence,
under a more significant title, which attaches to the volume
as a whole; and the remainder, considerably rearranged, is
reproduced in an appendix. The original work in its
entirety is thus made available and, it is thought, more
readable.
It has not been considered advisable in all instances to
distract the attention of the reader by indicating the minor
editorial changes in the text ; but care has been taken in
every instance (with the exception of one passage on pages
8 and 9), to point out all alterations of consequence.
Additions to the titles of chapters, and some wholly new
titles supplied by the editor, are indicated by brackets in the
Table of Contents which are not repeated in the body of the
work. These new titles are occasioned by the appearance
of new chapters in the editing, and by the fact that in some
instances there were formerly no titles proper. As several
publications have made extensive page references to the
original volume, a Header's Guide has been placed at the
EDITOR'S PREFACE xvii
end of the present volume, by means of which the location
in the reprint of any passage of the original can readily be
ed.
A few words having a special bearing upon the biography
are not out of place here.
When I first became interested in Rae's theory of capital,
under Professor Taussig's direction in the economic
inary at Harvard University, there existed no printed
information (except in his Preface) in respect to Rae
hiin>elt ' : and for a long time nothing could be learned
through inquiry in quarters which promised well in Canada
and Great Britain. The late Professor Dunbar of Harvard,
who always displayed a keen interest in the undertaking,
urged me to persist, and at length a letter printed in the
Montreal Star drew forth two replies, one from the Canadian
antiquary Mr. H. J. Morgan, the other from the late Robert
S. Knight of Lancaster, Ontario, a grand-nephew of Rae.
This set me upon the right road to get into communication
with several people who knew Rae personally. Of these
the one who could tell me most was the late Sir Roderick
\V. Cameron of New York, a former pupil and life-long
:id, at whose summer residence on Staten Island Rae
died. Better still, I was able through the interest and
kindness of this gentleman to come into possession of what
f< w papers Rae left at his death. That is, I obtained all
Rae's effects of a literary nature which seem now to bi in
existence. Apparently, from statements made by Sir
Roderick, there was another set of papers which I Jar had
uith him at the time, but which were destroyed or in some
way lost. The papers I obtained were little more than odds
and ends, mostly unfinished fragments on a great variety
uhj.Tts, unfortunately but little on economics. Their
<-hirf use has been to help me to a f;m understanding of
b
xviii EDITOR'S PREFACE
Rae's life, which I have been able, however, only very
imperfectly to set forth.
I have received much information and kind assistance in
this part of my work from not a few people in Canada, the
United States, Honolulu, and Great Britain. I trust they
will accept this general acknowledgment of my sense of
indebtedness to them.
To Mr. L. W. Zartman of Yale University my especial
thanks are due for assistance in preparing the copy for the
printer, and in reading the proofs.
I am also much indebted to Mr. Wilmot H. Thompson
of the Graduate School of Yale, for revision of the classical
quotations.
Finally, I wish here to express my obligations to Professor
Irving Fisher of Yale University. His interest and
encouragement have been of unfailing support. The proof
sheets of the whole book have passed his able scrutiny, and
his direct help in many other ways has been invaluable.
C. W. M.
BURLINGTON,
VERMONT, My, 1905.
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.
THREE men of note have borne the name John Rae ; and
because of frequent misunderstanding it is worth while
here once for all clearly to distinguish them. There is first,
reversing the chronological order, the John Rae now living
in England, born at Wick, Caithness, in 1845, educated
at the T Diversity of Edinburgh (Hon. LL.D., 1897)
journalist by profession, and author of several well-known
works on economic subjects. Then there is John Rae,
M.D., for some years surgeon in the employ of the Hudson
Bay Company, author of a work on Arctic exploration,
rewarded by the British government as the first discoverer
of relics of the Sir John Franklin expedition. His education
in medicine (completed in 1833) was obtained at the
Iniversity of Edinburgh, but his degree, an honorary one,
came from McGill University, Montreal, in 1853. He was
born near Stromness, in the Orkneys, in 1813, and died
in London in 1893. Finally, there is the subject of this
sketch, who was born at Footdee, "then a small and
detached suburb of Aberdeen," June 1st, 1796, and died at
Clifton, Staten Island, New York, July 14th, 1872. So
far as is known these three North of Scotland men were
not kinsmen. The two last are often confounded, even by
the best informed antiquaries, more especially because each
was known as Dr. Rae, and each resided for a part of his
life in Hamilton, Ontario.
Of Rae's antecedents and early life we know hut little.
His father's name was John, a merchant, " an entirely
s. h made man, the son of a peasant or small farmer." The
mother was Margaret Cuthbert, whose family seems to have
xx BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
been rather well-to-do " large farmers, as farming went
then." The son speaks of his father as fifteen years older
than his mother, and of the tw r o as markedly different " in
character, disposition, habits, tastes, and education."
There was one sister, Ann Cuthbert, and two brothers,
James and Alexander. The elder brother, James, had
remarkable inventive aptitudes, but was lost at sea in early
life. The sister married James Innes Knight, and preceded
Rae to Canada, at least as early as 1816, where Mr. Knight
died not long after arrival. A son by this marriage, Eobert
Knight, has descendants now living in Canada ; and descend-
ants of a daughter, Jessie, who married a Mr. Thurburn, are
living in Scotland. Later Mrs. Knight married Jan us
Fleming, a merchant of Montreal. There was a son by this
marriage, Ramsay Fleming, Q.C., lately deceased. Rae
himself had no children. 1
While still a mere lad John Eae studied at the University
of Aberdeen, being entered in Marischal College for the
sessions of 1810-1811, 1811-1812, and 1814-1815. In 1815
he took the degree of M.A. 2 Later he studied medicine
at the University of Edinburgh, but seems never to have
taken a degree in medicine there or, indeed, anywhere else. 3
Beyond doubt a most precocious youth, and it must be
admitted from what follows somewhat self-opinionated, he
had apparently a quarrel with his instructors at the time
1 Since writing the above, Miss Dorothy W. Knight, Rae's great-grand-niece,
has forwarded to me the following information obtained from her cousins in
Scotland :
"The business of Rae's father was in connection with shipping, either as a
ship builder or ship broker. He was in very comfortable circumstances
not great wealth, but more than the average amount of money. He was
considered a very upright man, kind, and a lover of peace. Mrs. Rae was an
exceedingly kind woman, and kept a comfortable home. She was a beauty ;
dignified in her manners, and paid great attention to the manners of her
family. Mrs. Rae died a good many years previous to her husband sometime
between 1815 and 1820. Subsequent to her death Mr. Rae lost his money.
Later, in his old age, he went a voyage with one of his sons [Alexander], and
the ship was wrecked, and both father and son drowned. "
2 See Fasti Academiae Mariscallanae, ii. pp. 407 and 412.
3 Considerable inquiry and incidental evidence in his papers maku this
statement practically certain.
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xxi
of his presentation. During the course of his studies he
had " come to the conclusion that the physiological medical
theories of the day were opposed to all true philosophy, and
therefore fundamentally false " ; he had also reached " a
conclusion concerning the origin of man very different from
the orthodox one." Writing to a friend late in life he
said :
" I was preparing an inaugural dissertation, as was then
th- custom in Edinburgh, previous to taking my degree ; its
title was " De Vita," and I intended to propound in it my
nil views. I was prevented by leading men in Edin-
h who had taken an interest in me, among others Dr.
A In Tcrombie, a physician in extensive practice, known to
y..ii perhaps as the author of some metaphysical works.
They represented to me that the course I was preparing to
was highly presumptious and imprudent. I should
have yielded to them with thanks, had they shown
ili; it it was erroneous. But they would not listen to
n i\ reasons, they looked only at my conclusions. In this
state of affairs I thought I would advise with my father. He
knew nothing of philosophy and physiology, but he knew the
world. His opinion was that if I was to fight I had better
r for a year or two till I gathered more strength, and
then if, as I had proposed, I wished to go to Paris, where
physiology was then more advanced than in England, he
would consent. It was perhaps good advice, as I was then
only twenty years of age. I had thus to pass a few years
lining knowledge and experience. I turned myself to
a subject kindred to my previous studies, and thus said to
It : It I a in right, deep is the pit from which we men
opened to ourselves a passage. The deeper the pit the
higher comparatively the height to which we have ascended,
therefore still greater the height we may hope to gain.
Win-nee then ;nv the forces which have so elevated us. and
whenc,- is it that humanity has been continually [lapsing]
from the jjivatest heights to the most profound depths, and
substantial progress is to the philosophical eye
SO uncertain V"
In 1818 Rae made a tour through Norway, but in \\hat
itv is not known. Apparently the event which vraa
th. -re;it turning point in his life and which was to send
him on the beginning of his wanderings had not yet
xxii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
occurred. Speaking of this time in later years, or of the
year preceding, he says, " a small estate to which I \vas
then reckoned heir would, I thought, furnish me with
sufficient means to enable me to give all my energies for all
the years I might have to live to these pursuits," that is,
' ' to make at least a beginning ' ' toward writing ' ' a truly
philosophical history of humanity." " But I was mis-
taken."
Soon after came the ' ' change ' ' in his ' ' circumstances ' '
to which he alludes in the Preface to his Political Economy,
the exact nature of which we can only guess. Several
things indicate, however, that it consisted both in financial
disaster and an unfortunate marriage. A life-long intimate
written the present writer that Rae left Aberdeen
"under a sort of bad luck, having married in haste."
Still another acquaintance has said, speaking of the years
1844-1845, " He was then married, his wife in education
far beneath him, she being the daughter of a Scotch
shepherd."
As Rae was in his twenty-fifth year when he emigrated,
the following shows that even years before the hand of
adversity, which was never to leave him, had been already
in some form or other heavy upon him. ; ' Natural disposi-
tion, strange and very early misfortunes, had marked me for
a student not a barren book-worm but a man eager for
knowledge knowledge as power the power in my concep-
tion of being a lasting benefactor to man. Thoughts
inspiring as these could alone have carried me over years
of terrible suffering which I had endured before reaching
my majority."
With this fragment casting a dark shadow on his early
life we pass from the period of adolescence to that of middle
manhood .
Rae landed in Quebec in the spring of 1821, where there
is some evidence tending to show that he found employment
for a time " in the lumber trade." At all events, he soon
after set up a private school at Williamstown, Ontario,
about fifty miles westward from Montreal, having been
invited there to teach the children of some of the rich fur
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xxiii
traders of the Hudson Bay Company. Not a few of his
pupils came from a distance, and among them were his
nephew Robert Knight and Roderick W. Cameron.
Two years before the publication of his Political Economy
Rae gave up the school at Williamstown , and, residing in
the vicinity of Quebec and at Montreal, devoted himself to
preparing his work for the press. A considerable part of
1834 he spent in Boston, where he received (as reported by
his sister) ' * great attention from some literary and
distinguished characters." Not long after this he obtained
tin head-mastership of the Gore District Grammar School,
an advanced public academy, at Hamilton. 1 Some excerpts
from letters written by pupils of those days may not be out
of place here.
" He was an accomplished scholar and taught the classics,
having a Mr. Tassie as an English assistant. He was
_ f ther a remarkable man. . . . He was quite different
from ordinary men, or I think my youthful imagination
would not have been so impressed as it was. He was
undoubtedly a man of deep learning and research, and made
a powerful impression on all who knew him. He was
amiable and thoughtful of others." (George H. Mills, Esq.,
ilton, Ontario.)
' I have a very pleasant and grateful remembrance of
Dr. Rae. He was very much respected and loved by
all his pupils. I was with him at the then Grammar School
from the spring of 1836 until December, 1837, when the
Rebellion broke out, and our school broke up, the Doctor
shouldering his musket and going to Toronto to fight the
'Is.
"He was considered a fine scholar, well up in Latin, Greek
and Mathematics, and specially qualified in Geology, and
also understanding French. His mind was, in fact, a vast
storehouse of knowledge, though he had not a happy faculty
\<! it. But he had a very loving disposition that
r.d him to us all." ulge S. J. Jon<>. (inmsby
I' irk.
V recommendation for this position, signed by H. Urqahart, is dated
mber6, 1-
xxiv BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
' Dr. John Rao was a man of great learning, and too
little appreciated in his lifetime, like many others. . . .
He was a great writer, .soniotiinos writing night after night,
and had a lot of manuscript. . . . His conversations with
the boys that made his house their home was even more
to them than their school studios. Ho entered into all
their sports and amusements, often bringing his chemical
knowledge into play." (J. R. Martin, Esq., Windsor.)
With this last especially may be joined the statement made
by Sir Roderick W. Cameron that " Rae was a charming
companion for young and old. He taught me rabbit, mink,
and muskrat trapping, and other sports attractive to
youth. . . . He was young in thoughts and acts to the
end."
As already shown, Rae's quiet life as a teacher at
Hamilton was broken at- one period by military service.
A letter among his effects, written by Allan N. MacXah.
the commander of the Hamilton Volunteers, states, " He
was among the first who accompanied me to Toronto on
the breaking out of the Rebellion of 1837, and continued
on duty at the Niagara frontier and elsewhere as long aa
his services were required." A letter of Rae to his sister
shows that he was in action quite a considerable skirmish.
As throwing a little further light on Rae's interests and
activities during his residence in Canada, the following may
be quoted from a scrap of manuscript :
: ' No paper formalities ever effectually resist the onward
march of events. We had proof of that in Canada. One-
eighth of the lands there were deeded with all the most
binding formalities that the best lawyers could devise to
the English Church. Yet all these lands have been taken
from it. Thirty years since I ventured to predict to that
Church that this and its other exorbitant pretensions would
not stand. They were against the natural order of things r
and they implied an injustice, viz., the putting Scotchmen
in an inferior position to Englishmen. I was laughed at.
Not a lawyer of any eminence but gave it hollow against us,
insomuch that when w r e determined to make it a national
question, and to lay a solemn protest against the whole
thing before the British Parliament on constitutional
grounds, I who am no lawyer was intrusted with the drawing
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xxv
up of that paper. It produced warm debates in both Houses,
was on motion of the Duke of Wellington referred to the
twelve English judges, who to their honor gave it in our
favor."
At the end of 1847 and the beginning of 1848, there
came to Rae, as far as we know without warning, what was
almost a completely crushing blow the loss of his school.
A iv port was sent by the Trustees to the Governor-General,
praying for the removal of the Head Master, on the ground
of the " unsatisfactory condition of the school," and Rae's
" inefficiency as a teacher." The school then numbered
In -tween sixty and seventy pupils.
The Governor-General declined to act by reason of lack of
jurisdiction ; and as the Trustees themselves could formally
remove the incumbent only " for misdemeanours and
impropriety of conduct," they apparently got rid of him by
closing the school. The arguments put forward in the
petition of the Trustees 1 lack the ring of sincerity, and
always felt that a cruel wrong was done him. Cherished
among his effects is a considerable mass of letters of testi-
monial, written at the time by pupils and parents of pupils,
all of a most flattering nature. A former acquaintance,
writing recently, is of the opinion that undoubtedly the real
>n for the action of the Trustees was Rae's religious
views. He had become good deal of a free thinker, and
most of the Board were clergymen.
However this may be, Rae was turned adrift. He went
first to Boston, and later to New York, where he obtained
a position in some school. While thus employed he received
the news of the death of his wife, who had remained at
ilton. Her death took place August 17, 1849, under
particularly distressing circumstances, into the details of
which it is not necessary to enter. Letters written by
friends and kindred at the time show that this must have
i a sad bereavement to the already sorely op
man. Rae himself once alludes to it as " a great and sonl-
peiiet rating sorrow."
A I read'. nary, 1^49, Rae had been thinking
1 This petition, now in my possession, is dated Dec. 30, 1847.
xxvi BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
of going to California. Now that all ties binding him to old
places and associations were severed, he prepared to carry
his plan into execution. He took ship for the Isthmus late
in the autumn. At Chagres he practised medicine for some
time, and finally contracted as surgeon on the " Brutus,"
sailing from Panama. Of this part of his trip we have the
following account : " Unfortunately she [the " Brutus "]
did not sail as advertised, so that I waited at Panama five
weeks, and not having given myself out for practice, spent
every cent I had and more too. Worse than that, someone
made the Captain, who was also mostly owner of the vessel,
believe that I was no doctor, but only an old schoolmaster ;
and I believe if he could he would have shaken me off.
Being moreover a mean, greedy fellow, he made my
situation very uncomfortable. We had a great deal of
sickness on board, and a passage of nine or ten weeks." l
In California Eae at first taught school at Colona, near
Sutters Creek. Later he made cradles for washing and
balances for weighing gold. There is no evidence that he
turned gold miner himself. A large part of his stay in
El Dorado was taken up by a severe illness which nearly
ended his life.
Led on by scientific curiosity, as he explains, Eae went
from California to the Sandwich Islands, arriving early in
1851. The twenty years of a restless and disappointed old
age which he spent here were not without compensations.
He was held in esteem by several men of importance, and
had abundant material for the most absorbing physiographical
and sociological studies. The fire of the ambitions of his
1 This is taken from a letter, or series of letters written to Cameron, and
published with the title "Dr. Rae in California" in the Hamilton Gazette for
Dec. 19, 1850. It is not at all unlikely that there are other letters by Rae to
be found in the files of that paper during the early fifties. Under date of
Hamilton, Jan. 15, 1852, Cameron wrote Rae: "I intend allowing Bull to
publish extracts from your letter. I have written them out and will forward
you a copy of the paper, as well as several copies to your acquaintances
throughout the country." During that and the following year Rae wrote
several long epistles to Cameron, which he plainly expected would be published
in some journal. The present writer was not able to confer with Cameron in
respect to this matter before his death.
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xxvii
youth still burning strong within him, he went resolutely
to work (after an interval of school keeping) on an agricul-
tural enterprise, hoping that the money gained would some
day take him to the literary centres of the old world. He
worked with his own hands, and with such headlong zeal
that his friends remonstrated. But all to no avail. Failure
came here as in almost everything else to which he put
his hand. He explains the exasperating details in a letter
to \Villson, but I pass them over. 1
At least as early as July, 1853, while residing at Wailuku,
Island of Maui, Eae was Medical Agent of the Board of
Health, a position which he also held in 1869, and presum-
ably during the interval. One of the most interesting of
his papers is entitled, "Journal of a Tour around East
Maui." This was a walking expedition, lasting a month
or two, and made for the purpose of vaccinating the natives.
It was evidently entered upon with the keenest zest. He
everything ; literally nothing of interest seems to have
escaped him.
cording to Commissions in my possession, Eae was
appointed District Justice at Hana, East Maui, in 1859, and
again in 1863. From all accounts he must have been given
this office at other times as well , but there is no documentary
proof at hand. The position was one of some importance.
A Correspondent in Honolulu mentions one particularly
interesting case of sorcery that came before him. He lived,
we learn from the same source, in a solitary place far back
from the sea ; and when he walked abroad his tall , spare
form was seen always accompanied by two large dogs.
In April, 1871, Cameron wrote his old friend and teacher,
1 The reference is to Hugh Bowlby Willson, son of the Hon. John Willson,
"at one time Speaker of the Canadian Legislature." He was a barrister,
engineer, promoter, general railway agent and commission merchant, author,
and editor, during 1849, of the short-lived Canadian Independent, established
in the interests of annexation. Rae was willing to be associated in this last
enterprise, but was too much broken up at the time to take an active part.
Willson's published works are on engineering and monetary subjects. Ap-
parently he was a man of exceptional range of ability, but always unfortunate
And poor. There is iibun ', nee in Rae's papers that Willson was his
best frimd. Lik-- ! -avi-H to like.
xxviii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
to whom several times he had been of material assistance r
" If you will conu- and spend your remaining years with me,
I will defray all your expenses from Maui to my home."
accepted this invitation, and sailed on the steamer
" Ajax " in July. The change of climate affected him
seriously, so that he kept his room the following winter and
spring, and finally passed away, as already stated, in mid-
summer. He was buried in Woodland Cemetery, State n
Island, in a lot, purchased by Sir Roderick, " in which two
others, one a faithful servant and the other a distant relative r
are buried."
Thus far I have given in bare outline only the chief mile-
stones, as it were, along the career of the man w r hose life is
before us. It is necessary to fill in the gaps with some
further account of what he did, and what he thought and
felt. A scholar, not a man of action, what he did is of
course to be found chiefly in his studies.
Some account of a speculation which interested him in
early youth has already been given. Another one, of a
different sort, at that period of his life, was a scheme " for
determining the rate and setting of a current at sea." The
device for this purpose (applicable to both surface and under-
currents) is described in some detail in one of his papers ,
but it is scarcely fitting to reproduce it here. 1
Of the fate of this project Rae says writing to Willson :
' I was then under a very eminent professor of mathe-
matics in the Marischal College, Aberdeen, the late Dr.
Hamilton, and showed it him. He allowed it sound in
theory and ingenious, but smiled it down as impracticable.
Though not convinced I was obliged to yield and let it go,
as I did not wish to irritate my father. ... Dr. Hamilton's
objection to my scheme was that it was very good on paper,
but that in so boisterous an element as the ocean it was almost
absurd to think it could be of any practical utility. He
judged of the ocean from fanciful notions he had got sitting
in his easy chair. I knew something of it then, and have
1 The chief principle employed was that of the pressure of the water upon
air in a cylinder to disengage at varying depths weights attached to bodies of
different specific gravity.
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xxix
lived on it many a long day since, and can see nothing
absurd in the project. In fact, in weather in which a whale
could live, there would be no difficulty in giving the
globes their proper position in the water. In other weather,
DO attempt at deep sounding by the lead itself could be made
with a prospect of success. Once a few feet beneath the
surface all violent motion ceases.
I < annot but think, however, that the temper of mind
which led him to object was one with which all inventions
are commonly, one might almost say reasonably, met. Nine
n of all mechanical schemes are abortive. In fact,
th.-y generally take their rise in this way. Some idea new,
or conceived to be new, flits by chance across the brain of a
man unaccustomed to new ideas. The novelty of the thing,
and still more so the novelty of its occurring to himself, sets
it on a point of view that puts all other conceptions out of
: and magnifies itself prodigiously. It becomes therefore
Ins hobby, and he rides it, or more frequently it rides
him. But the man who is consulted in such a case,
ially if he has been in the habit of being so consulted,
sees the thing in a very different light. He knows that these
projects are almost all vanity, that some flaw in their con-
ception makes them impracticable, or that a search would
prove thrm not original. In short, that it is ten to one if
this particular one succeed. Besides, if he be a man of
. i at ion in science, he is annoyed at being obliged to give
ip time that is valuable to the task of finding out flaws, and
rdimrlv takes hold of the first that presents itself. This
shortens his labour, keeps his reputation safe, and is probably
a charity to the inventor. In this way it perhaps is that
thr greater number of new inventions have not had the
sanction of the learned, and that, if given at all, it has been
in a mighty cautious manner. I know therefore that I
-lion Id myself have great difficulty at present to get anyone
to take hold of a single one of my schemes, and am a\
that I am putting your friendship to a somewhat severe test
king you to attempt it."
One of the " schemes " here alluded to was a device for a
i ddle wheel for steamboats. There are diagrams
descriptions among his papers. The feathering was to
take place in a vertical plane parallel with the keel, instead
<>t at rijht angles with it, as is the case \\ith leathering
inv. ni ions now in us . The plan was probably therefore
xxx BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
of little practical value, but it is of interest +? note that
Eae had the idea of the importance and possibility of
feathering paddle wheels, probably before any one else.
Among his papers, also, is considerable in the way of
inventive speculation on the art of shipbuilding in general,
and several essays on aeronautics. 1
But what interests us most are Rae's sociological (in the
broad sense of the term) rather than his mechanical studies.
In the Preface to the Political Economy he speaks of "a
work on the present state of Canada, and on its relations
with the rest of the British Empire," on which he had
become engaged after taking up his residence in Canada.
In 1832, while still at Williamstown, he addressed a petition
to Sir John Colborne, the Lieutenant-Go vernor, praying for
aid to publish a book " On the Present State and Resource
of the Province " (title as given by H. J. Morgan). This
petition was submitted to the House of Assembly and duly
printed in its Journals, but there the matter seems to have
been dropped. There is no record, so I am informed, to
indicate that the composition was ever printed.
In all probability, this was the work mentioned in the
Preface : one which Eae seems to have spent much labour
upon, and to have valued in some respects above his Political
Economy. In one of his letters to Willson he says :
' I had thoroughly studied Canada in both its natural *and
moral aspects, and could have told England what it really
was and what it wanted. Had I had the least aid (100
would have done it) , I should have accomplished this ; and
looking soberly on the matter as a thing past, it is now my
firm conviction that I should thus have averted all the
disasters of the Rebellion and brought on a dozen years
earlier that period of prosperity which the province now
enjoys. I will not inflict you with my reasons for this
1 In a letter (undated) written to Willson we read : " After a little re-
flection I have decided on sending you a summary of that whole part of my
century which relates to progression through water. I am partly led to this
from having the chance of sending a heavy packet with safety by my friend
J. W. Austin, Esq., of Boston, who has resided for some years in these
islands in a position somewhat analogous to our Attorney-General, and who
now is returning to his native soil. He will write you and receive your
instructions as to transmitting this and the other papers he takes charge of."
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xxxi
conviction. Had this been so I could have brought out my
ideas concerning some points on Political Economy with
the prospect of a fair hearing."
And again in a letter to John Stuart Mill he writes-
apparently of this same literary undertaking as follows :
' I cannot go on with my account of the Sandwich Islands
till I see ai mine them all. ... I have therefore
th< 'light of inditing a small work on Canada Recollections
of Canada. Many years ago I had formed the project of
writing an extended work on the Province, had visited all
pnrts of it, collected information of all sorts concerning it,
and had written a large part. I had intended to publish
this before my Political Economy. Unfortunately I was
induced to put forth the latter in Boston, under the assurance
from Mr. A. Everett 1 that it would be appreciated there.
Hi- was, however, I believe scared at it. Could not make
up his mind, nor could any one there, if I was right or
wrong, and so passed it by with praise of its style, etc.
This damned it. My bad success here was a bar to my
work on Canada, for as this was long and went to the bottom
of things, my friends and the booksellers prognosticated that
it would, like the former, be too heavy a w r ork to be read.
I k'-pt the manuscript by me, adding to my stock of inform a -
as occasion offered, still thinking of one day bringing it
forth. Among other mischances that have befallen, these
mscripts, sent to New York, seem to have been strangely
lost. So there is an end of that .
" However, I think I could write a small book that would
have a certain currency. I am more inclined to think this
from the following circumstance. Some time before leaving
Canada, a young friend came to reside with me, and having
something of a turn for politics was very free in his inquiries
as to my opinions and views of matters, which I gave him
in full. On this foundation, for he knew nothing of these
matters himself, he goes and writes an article for Black wood.
I just saw it before leaving America, and found it a reflection
of my own thoughts, though sometimes dim or distorted.
Sm<t landing on these shores I have had letters from
Canada asking if I were the author and stating that the
article had had considerable success."
1 This was Alexander H brother of Edward I iiplotnat,
editor of the North American Revi- to some extent on economic
it-view of Rae'i Political Economy is in Vol. XL. of tli. :
xxxii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
Further than this, nothing is known of the nature or
fate of this presumably profound treatise. 1
The reception accorded his Political Economy was always
a keen disappointment to Rae. He received practically
nothing for it pecuniarily, as he informed Cameron ; and it
was not until nearly thirty years after it was published
that he learned Mill had noticed it. Apparently he never
knew that it was translated in 1856, in Volume XI., first
series, of Ferrara's Biblioteca deWEconomista.
This is not the place to give any extended criticism of
this work, pronounced by Professor Irving Fisher (Yale
Review, Vol. V., p. 457) to be "truly a masterpiece, a
book of a generation or a century." 2 I wish here merely
to point out that its influence, even from the first, has been
greater than is commonly supposed. A careful study of
John Stuart Mill's Principles reveals many undoubted
instances of indebtedness. Indeed, on the side of pure
economics it may be said that it was Rae, more than any
other, who modified the Ricardian basis of Mill's thought.
To an equal extent, perhaps, is Hearn in his Plutology
indebted to Rae. This is seen not so much in particular
passages as in the method and spirit of this admirable
treatise. The high commendation which Jevons, Marshall,
and Edgew T orth have bestowed upon Hearn 's work , therefore ,
belongs in part to another. It may be also mentioned in
passing that Professor Thomas Fowler in his Principles of
Morals (Part II., Oxford, 1887, pp. 50-59) makes considor-
1 According to one of Rae's old pupils, " J. S. Hogan made use of portions
of Rae's history of Canada to get up an article for Blackwood for which he
received 40 sterling." This same pupil " well recollects " Rae " often reading
extracts from his History of Canada." Rae himself once makes bare mention
of a "nearly completed physical history of Canada." There were two articles
on Canada in BlackiooocVs Magazine during 1849, both unsigned, but dated
Hamilton, Canada West, one or both of which must be that to which Rae and
my correspondent refer. John Sheridan Hogan published in Montreal, in
1855, an essay on Canada which was awarded the first prize by "the Paris
Exhibition Committee of Canada."
2 Compare the opinion of Professor Edgeworth in Palgrave's Dictionary of
Political Economy, and of Professor Sydney Sherwood in Johns Hopkins Uni-
versity Studies in Historical and Political Science, fifteenth series, pp. 582-584,
and 590-591.
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xxxiii
able use of Rae, drawing on him at second hand through
the quotations given in Mill's Principles. An intellectual
candle of real power, if it be not wholly placed under a
bushel, shines far.
While at Hamilton, Rae had privately printed in 1843 an
Essay on the Question of Education, in as far as it concerns
Canada. The title page and a few detached leaves only of
this monograph were found among his effects. Some effort
has been made to obtain knowledge of the whereabouts of a
complete copy, but without success. It is also known that
in the last years of his life Rae had at least " nearly
completed " another work " On Education," but what
became of it has not been ascertained.
After his establishment in the Sandwich Islands, Rae's
studies were most multitudinous, in fact too much so : little
was brought to completion. Some essays on geology and
on medical subjects were indeed written out and sent home
either to Cameron or Willson, with the request that they
be published in Stillman's Journal, 1 or in some other
scientific periodical ; but evidently nothing came of them. 2
Among the manuscripts falling into my possession, by far
the most extensive and orderly were those upon geology and
kindred subjects, pertaining both to Canada and the
Hawaiian Islands. These have been placed in proper
hands, and may in part be printed.
But though much attention while in Maui was devoted to
geology, to questions of the welfare of the native race, and
to his mechanical inventions, Rae's chief study was upon
the language. He had a theory that the Hawaiian race
represented in great purity, by reason of its isolation, an
exceedingly primitive culture ; just as the old Norse culture
is at present most purely represented in Iceland. He
believed he was studying in the Hawaiian language a
survival of a pre-Sanskrit language the original tongue
of a universal stone age. Apparently bold generalizations
as to language-building, the relations between sounds and
1 Later called The American Journal of Science and Arts.
2 This was done, it appears, on two occasions, in 1852 and ten or twelve
years later.
xxxiv BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
actions, were carrying him far into a most profound
philological and anthropological speculation. I say
apparently here, because of my ignorance of such matters,
and because this part of his manuscript is the most frag-
mentary and chaotic of all.
Some of the results of his studies along these lines, and
also on some other matters pertaining to the existing
condition of the Hawaiians, we know to have been printed
in a Honolulu newspaper, The Polynesian, during the early
sixties. 1 A few excerpts from these articles being sent by
an acquaintance, R. C. Wyllie, 2 to John Stuart Mill, led
Mill to write Rae at least once ; a communication which ,
however, was never received. A copy of a letter by Mill to
Wyllie respecting Rae, found among the latter 's effects,
runs as follows :
BLACKHEATH PARK,
KENT, Feb. 3, 1863.
SIR, I have had the honour of receiving your letter and
the printed slips which you have been kind enough to send.
These I have read with the attention due to any work of Dr.
Rae, and they appear to me quite worthy of his intellect
and acquirements. The picture which he draws of the
dangers that menace the interesting community of which
you are one of the rulers, is most formidable. Of the
remedies which he proposes, I cannot be a competent judge,
but, as far as my means of judgment extend, he seems to
be right in much, perhaps even in all, that he proposes.
The other paper will, I think, place Dr. Rae very high
among ethnologists and philologists. After having reached
by independent investigation the highest generalization
previously made, namely, that all languages have grown by
development from a few hundred words, Dr. Rae seems to
1 So far as the editor has been able to ascertain, the only copies of The
Polynesian which are available for the period when Rae contributed to
its columns, are in the British Museum Vols. 15-19, covering from May,
1858, to April, 1863.
2 Mr. Wyllie, as he states in one of his letters to Rae, was formerly "an
East India merchant, railway director, and director (in fact, the starter) of
the Pacific Steam Navigation Company." He was soon after deceased (about
1865 or 1866), holding at the time a high position under the Hawaiian
Government.
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xxxv
have supplied the first probable explanation of the manner
in which these primitive words may themselves have
originated. If his hypothesis is made out, it is the keystone
of the science of philology, it is a priori extremely probable,
and the facts he brings forward establish a strong case of
verification a posteriori. I hope that Dr. Max Miiller has
put in possession of this important speculation.
It must be of great value to your country to have such a
as Dr. Rae settled among you.
It is very gratifying to me that you are disposed to carry
the principle of minorities into practical operation. That
such should be questions agitated in a country which three-
quarters of a century ago was in the savage state is surely
of the most remarkable signs of the very hopeful times
in which we live. I am, Sir, your most obedient servant,
J. S. MILL.
His Excellency, R. C. Wyllie, Esquire.
After an interval Rae wrote Mill the following :
" SIR, Permit me to render you my thanks for having
taken the trouble some two or three years since to write my
late friend Mr. Wyllie concerning some papers of mine that
had appeared in the Polynesian newspaper of Honolulu,
of which he had sent you copies. You may well
suppose I was much gratified by the favourable opinion of
whose judgment deservedly carries so much weight with
it as yours in all philosophical questions. I address you at
present to request a favour. I desire to dedicate to you a
work on the Polynesian language and its connections with
the history of speech, and consequently of humanity. You
amid have formed but a very imperfect idea of my views
from my letter to Mr. Wyllie, which was not intended for
publication, and in which, from its growing too voluminous
<>n in y hands, I often dropped the thread of my argument
without pursuing statements I had made to their legitimate
coiiMMjiicnrrs. I cannot of course attempt to rm-nd the
ter here, or to give even a summary of my argument,
but I may state the conclusions at which I have arrived, as
wdl as those at which I might hope to arrive, and thus
explain to you the reasons which urge me to make the
esl 1 have preferred.
'1 IM IK \e it may be shown that the race from which the
Polynesians spring was at the head of civilization of the age
of stone, and were settled in Hindustan and along the
xxx vi BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
southern and more fertile shores of Asia. It seems, too, that
the facts on which my reasons rest are indisputable, the
deduction perfectly logical, and the conclusion therefore
irrefragable. This forms the first part of my book. The
:nl pertains to the language. As to it, there have come
into it two sounds, significant of themselves, which have a
close analogy to the cries of the higher order of animals,
and have somehow been modified by and incorporated into
the articulate speech. The one is a (the broad Scotch or
Italian a) and it may be translated action. The other is o
which denotes distance and connection. This may seem a
contradiction, but in reality if a thing be distant it must be
distant from something else, and that something must there-
fore to the mind have some relation to it or connection with
it. The articulate sounds or syllables of the Polynesian
language are either simple vowels, or end in vowels. There
are about forty of them, and the remarkable fact as to all
of them is this : When the organs of speech with the aid of
the breath shape an articulate syllable, they also themselves-
take a shape, form and movement, and in this language,
this shape and movement have always an analogy to the
thing or action which the sound of the syllable or conjoined
syllable denotes."
Here the letter breaks off.
Rae's manuscript in epistolary form addressed to Mill is-
rather voluminous. 1 Those parts which relate to political
economy have been printed in the Economic Journal for
March, 1902 (Vol. XII., No. 45) and in the Quarterly
Journal of Economics for November, 1901 (Vol. XVI.,
No. 1). A small additional fragment appears as Article VI.
in the Appendix to this volume. 2
Among the friends of Rae's later life was Abraham
Fornander, editor of The Polynesian at the time when
Rae's articles appeared in that journal. In the years 1878-
1885, Fornander published a three volume work, which
attained some celebrity, entitled An Account of the
1 It is not known whether a fair copy of any of this was ever sent to Mill,
but it is not unlikely. Rae seems also to have corresponded with Dr. William
Beattie in England.
2 Some excerpts from Rae's miscellaneous manuscript are also introduced at
different points indicated in the text.
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xxxvii
Polynesian Race, its Origin and Migrations. In the
Preface to the first volume, among other general acknow-
ledgments of literary obligation, we read, " The late Dr.
John Rae of Hana, Maui, who, in a series of articles
published in The Polynesian (Honolulu, 1862), first called
attention to the extreme antiquity of the Polynesian
language." This is the only reference Fornander makes
to Rae. The present writer is of the opinion that Rae
originated most of the ideas which were followed out in this
work by his contemporary.
I may add in this connection that a transcription of one
of the ancient legends of the Hawaiians with Rae's
explanatory notes, found among his effects, has been printed
in Volume XIII., No. 51. (1900), of the Journal of American
Folk- Lore. It shows a vitality not found in Fornander 's
Polynesian Race.
Of Rae's inner life, especially on the intellectual side, we
get occasional glimpses in his correspondence. Writing to
Willson from Chagres, December 27th, 1849, he said :
" I have now for many years been an exile from the land
which I had chosen as my home, and in which I had made
up my mind to pass my remaining days, and within the
present month, and in beginning old age, have become a
wanderer and adventurer over the wide earth. You know
th cruel injustice which has thus driven me forth. You
partly know also the cruel sufferings thus entailed on me,
and which have almost rent my heart. But this of good has
Ited from all. Nature under a new face, humanity
under an altered aspect ; a sense of danger, and a necessity
;< -tion, have, as it were, renewed my soul, and enabled
me to look calmly on what I have been and what I am.
Tli us I see myself as in times past destiny seemed to have
[>1 me, I can analyze, as it were, the elements of my
MM n existence, and taking my stand on what new has
broken iii on it, can measure and look on it as a thing apart
ii th<- prr.s.-nt.
' Fortune has not permitted me to be the student I would
sired. The study of such a one is in the spacious
library win-re undisturbed and uncontrolled he can roam
the thoughts and read the souls of men of all times ami
r. Hi n tries ; or else the wide world itself, with all conveniences
viii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
re it and examine the various aspects of nature and
man whieh it exhibits or better still, each alternately.
Only partially, only scantily have I enjoyed these advantages.
hut' every man has a world of study within his own soul,
and in the workings of the passions of those around him.
1 have not neglected. . . .
" Alas for the student, ardent and feeling, and with hopes
like mine, pursuing truth without dread as concerns self,
shrinking from it when at length grasped as a thing,
fchougb having within itself the energetic powers of a new
and better order of things yet coming on the present world,
if receiving it, like one of the phials of wrath of the
alypse. 1 had d< termined that no important writing
line should appear till after rny death. Thus I could
acquit myself to the Omnipotent for not hiding what He
had allowed me to see of what at least appeared to me ligJii ,
and avoid the suspicion of being actuated by personal
motives. . . .
" What now I may do is uncertain. I know not even if
my manuscripts are safe. Certainly a new spirit is
awakened within me, and may lead to a new course of
action, if I be not cut down by some of the chances which
I see fall to so many around me. . . .
" Now as concerns Canadian independence, or annexa-
tion ; that also as a thing interesting in itself, and more
cially as one to be taken as a sign of other things of
greater interest with which the present era seems pregnant,
had occupied at least some little of my attention ; but I had
ome accustomed to view it from a point and in a light
different from that in which politicians of the hour necessarily
d it.
' Let me explain myself. When one commences the
study of history, it is generally under the apprehension that
this study will serve as a master key to the problems of the
day, and will enable him not only to form just conclusions
concerning them, but, if so prompted, to address his eon-
temporaries with authority and power. But as he advances
farther and farther in the pursuit, and if he has seized the
philosophical spirit of investigating it which has begun to
give its proper life to the inquiries of the age, he finds the
eye of his mind conducted by it to a far higher elevation
whence it takes in a great reach of the whole tide of
humanity lying beneath, flowing on with unceasing current
from the dim and cloudy mountains of the past in lengthened
course to the immense and measureless future. Not only is
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xxxix
his soul absorbed by the contemplation of the vast prospect,
but he feels both the comparative insignificance of the
immediate present and his own want of power to control
it. XVhat is a slight turning in the course or a little ripple
on the surface of the huge stream which, under the guidance
so mighty is hurrying on so fast and so tar.'
Not only do the questions of the day diminish before him to
mere waves chafing the shore and serving little else but to
mark the strength of the great feelings, sufferings, passions,
or if you will, principles which, as it were blindly and
confusedly, though doubtless under the real government of
an Omnipotent hand whose workings pass his ken, impel
the mighty mass along; but also he becomes sensible how
insignificant individual efforts must be to control forces
which he sees and feels bearing others and himself away
with overwhelming energy.
4 To one having learned to view things in this light, it
must be difficult, and I found it impossible in New York,
to write a popular article such as the interests of your
Journal require on a question which if not in the temper in
which it is agitated at least in the thing itself is profoundly
Hgnificant."
In another letter addressed to Willson, undated, but
apparently written from the Isthmus or California, we
read,
" A change has come o'er the thread of my life. You
have perhaps seen a horse of a sort of sluggish temper, not
deficient in any of the externals that denote some degree
of power, but yet who seemed incapable of anything but a
:>orn, shambling gait which whip or spur made only
more uncomfortable. Well, gather your reins, feel that you
.veil in your saddle, and spare not but dig the iron well
into his sides. You will rouse him : and if you keep your
seat through his first plungings and boundmgs it may be
you will be astonished how well and fast and far he
will bear you. Such is the change that has come over the
temper of my mind. The iron has pierced deep into me, it
n my very vitals, and for aught I sec will do so till
>ver me. I must be doing something, I have
f m action. . . . London. Paris, with a little capital in
money and literary reputation have been my aim for years.
Then-, with the assistance of libraries, museums, friends
u ho could and might be induced to assist me, I have <
ceived I should have the fairest field for my literary and
xl BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
philosophical speculations, and for iny mechanical schemes.
The one would assist the other. Had it not been for those
confounded Trustees, my plans were so laid that I feel pretty
<. undent I should before this have been there, and it was
this overthrow of my plans more than the mere ejection
from the school that so nearly overset me, and but for you,
I believe, would have given me my final quietus."
Writing still again to this faithful friend, from Hana
under date of December, 1856, Rae says :
" If you would really help a man you must know how to
help him. You must know in what his well-being and
happiness consist, what therefore are his objects and aims.
My earlier friends in Canada could not conceive or at least
understand what were mine. They thought me foolish in
burying the attainments and ability they were pleased to
give me credit for in the subordinate position of a village
surgeon, or still worse in that of a country schoolmaster.
They could not conceive that my main need was quiet, to
think out my thoughts. When after ten years of this sort of
life I had sufficiently mastered my subjects and digested my
problems and wished to put some of them before the world,
they had changed their notion of me , and viewing me now as
a mere schoolmaster stood aloof from me and my projects,
and would give me neither effective countenance nor support.
Some hinted that had I taken their advice I might have
been in a very different position, while the prudent said,
' What are your chances of gaining by this? How much
will it put in your pocket? Sit quiet.' Others again,
looking on me as a mere adventurer, and measuring me from
my humble place and comparing it with the magnitude of
my enterprises, seemed to say, ' What, you a village teacher,
think you can master such high themes? The man is mad :
we will have nothing to do with him.' ... I have found all
men, even my most intimate friends, measuring the probable
success of my schemes not from what they inherently were,
but from the position of myself, the one bringing thorn
forward. Thus I recollect well when I projected publishing
my work on political economy, my friends were quite
incredulous of my ability to controvert the doctrines of Ad MTU
Smith in any particular, and smiled part in pity, part in
wonderment, at the presumption of one who had not
been able to raise himself from the position of a country
schoolmaster embarking on so hopeless an enterprise.
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xli
"Now had they known my motives for contenting myself
-with what seemed to them so inferior a station, they
might or at least they ought to have come to another con-
clusion. It was in truth because I was engaged in important
speculations for which school life though a drudgery yet
.gave me many hours of quiet leisure, that I contented myself
with it. I feared that if I then pushed really into the
battle of life these speculations would be likely to dim
before me, and probably at last fade in the distance. I now
think I was wrong in this events at least would seem to
prove my having been so. At any rate, had I to run the
same course over again, I would act differently. I think I
ought to have studied law, for which through Judge Maclean
\vay would have been open to me, and secured to myself
a certain social position that would have enabled me in no
long time to have given myself to pursuits more congenial
iy feelings. I do not believe that either great success
or comparative failure in a legal career would have been able
to turn me from the occasional contemplation and ultimate
pursuit of the magnificent visions of my youth. Yet who
knows?" .
There is evidence that at some time in his career Rae's
fri.-nds, instead of being incredulous of his powers, had
tfrged him to ' ' push forward on some undertaking " ; for
in one fragment of epistolary manuscript we find the
following :
" Now this was the way to make me sit still. Even the
f, -HI eying to myself that personal advantage was in reality
th- end of my efforts was sure to confound me, and the
holding this up to me as their true aim and object completely
lysed me. ... It may seem incredible to you, but
it is the real fact that these clinnings in my ears always
brought a similar chaos over my thoughts, and if fool
i#h to try, I only floundered on from one instability
to another. This may seem to you a strange, unnatural,
almost mad humor of mine. So perhaps it was; it was
at least what doctors call abnormal, the result probably
in part of my peculiar organization, in part of cruel
iii'-rital suffering in nrly youth, the fruits, the avengers
i;ips, of a momentary yielding to violent passions. This
gave to the world and all it holds a real air of mere vanity
i vexation of spirit."
xlii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
One more passage from a letter, or rather parts of different
letters, may he quoted, written from Maui, but to whom tt
is impossible with certainty to B
t'roin a very early period ot my life I had turned my
attention and, as occasion presented itself, bent all the
powers of my mind to trace out the causes which have given
shape and form to humanity, and from whence have eome
the laws which have hitherto governed and must in future
ni its progress. ... A train of singularly untoward
and to me disastrous circumstances, and of such a chara<
that for the honor of human nature I trust the history of
few individuals can present a parallel [have impeded my
endeavors]. . . . Nevertheless wherever I have been, and
however situated, the idea of my youth has held possession
of me, and has been the central point of all my resean
and speculations. Now in my old age I am desirous of
recording [as much as is possible of the results of my
labours]. ... I can scarcely hope to tell my fellow-men
all that during my life I have gathered together from the
recorded past and the actual present, of the paths we have
travelled from our first appearance on earth to the present
hour, and the ways we have to travel to the end. To me
the sun is surely soon to set. Yet while daylight lasts I am
desirous of adding what I can to those stores of knowledge,
and truth which are the only substantial inheritance which
age can bequeath to age. I had thought of commencing by
giving a sketchy outline of what I may call my system f
and had in fact composed a great part of such outline.
Certain circumstances, however, warn me that this plan is-
imprudent, and that it is better to pat forth what I know
and desire to tell in parts, mere fragments of the great-
whole which is spread out before my view. Each to other
men will seem fragmentary ; if I live long enough I may
form them into a system, or rather the skeleton of a system r
which perhaps others may till up. One of these fragments
is the relation which the Polynesian race and language bear
to other races and languages, and to the origin of language
itself. My investigations as to this last point have, I think,
led me to some important discoveries. I am now preparing
a work on these subjects which I hope to have published
in London. I think it more likely than any other of my
speculations to draw some share of public attention. I have
not, however, confined myself to this alone, but have drawn
out the plan and partly written some essays on subjects having
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xliit
a bearing on what is shadowed out in my mind as a real
philosophic history of our race. It was thus that some
months since I wrote the essay which I send. I had not,
however, thought of publishing it for perhaps a year or two,
nor even then until it had been submitted to the judgment of
some scientific friend who might be competent to detect any
mistake in the mechanical part, if any there were." l
And now to conclude this series of excerpts, we may set
down the following : standing on a bit of paper by itself r
and in so wavering a hand that it may well have been
written during Rae's last illness.
' If we regard the generous impulses, the ennobling hopes y
the lofty aspirations, that swell the breast of youth, we
should say that the human heart was a soil in which the
heaven-wafted seeds of every virtue might germinate and
jn>w and flourish, and spread a paradise over the earth.
lint alas, when the time comes when each has to cast himself
into the stream of actual life, the movements of whose
impetuous current have come down from places and times
far remote, the first plunge awakens him to the absorbing
necessity of putting forth all his energies to maintain himself
in the whirling tide. He loses sight of those landmarks-
which were to have guided his course. Progress, Progress,
is his cry; and on he dashes, pushing aside and thrusting
down."
But in all this one gets rather a distorted picture of the
sort of man Rae really was. The reader must consider that
th.-se things were written late in life, and make allowances.
Hf should, especially, group with them the impressions.
derived from the work put forth by Rae in his prime.
Those who knew him in the flesh, not primarily as a man
cience but as a teacher and friend, represent him as
athl.-tic in mind and in body; as cheerful, courageous,
ularly devoid of all petty ambitions and meanness. He
was built on a large plan.
One fault he had of an int< -11< ( -tiial sort which st<
seriously in his way as a successful writer, and that was a
marked tendency to take in all the length and breadth of
1 This may have been written to Dr. W. Beattie, for in a scrap of a letter
aillresed to him is discussed the same literary project.
xliv BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
any subject, and to sound its depths. Consequently 'he
always went off into digressions, frequently of excessive
length a habit which grew upon him. But to take in the
length and breadth of a subject and to sound its depths is
the mark of genius. If Rae could have had suitable
conditions for scientific work (such as seemed open to him
in his early youth) he would undoubtedly have been steadied
as well as stimulated he would have shown proper concen-
trationand then with his powers of imagination and range
of information, what results might the world not have had
from him? Or if when he came to America he had settled
in one of the larger cities, with access to libraries and
contact with other well-trained minds, how different would
his life have been? But nevertheless he did not altogether
miss his mark. His work, not without influence when first
published, though later neglected, did not die. The reviv.il
of interest came when others began to exploit the same field ,
and when the science as a whole had made a great advance.
There now seems every prospect that this interest will widen,
and intensify, and endure.
AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
(The work here presented to the American reader, was composed with
the intention of being published in Great Britain ; under this idea the
following Preface was written. As it explains the design of the original
undertaking, it has been thought proper that it should retain the place it-
was at first intended to occupy.)
T<> promote prosperity within, to guard against danger from
without, have ever been esteemed the two great branches of
the duty of the Statesman. But of all the sources of internal
prosperity, or means of repelling external aggressions, no
one, in modern times, is of greater efficacy than wealth.
\\\- have, therefore, no reason to be surprised, that states-
men should have endeavored to procure for their respective
countries the greatest possible amount of it. If the laws
they have enacted, and the regulations they have for this
purpose established, have really answered the ends they were
intended to promote, they are certainly praiseworthy.
Of the efficacy of such laws, for those purposes, politicians
for a long time did not doubt; but a great revolution in
public opinion has taken place, and almost all men who
now pretend to understand the principles that should govern
rhi policy of nations, agree in condemning them.
This revolution in the opinions of men, had its rise in
It might have died there, however, with the sect
from which it had birth, had not a man of surprising genius,
placing himself at the head of the feeble jmrty then
MI I >f>nrt ing it, enabled them to give their principles currency
throughout the nations of Europe. Adam Smith will be
led among remote generations, as one having power-
fully influenced the options and policy of the civilized world,
xlvi AUTHOR'S PREFACE
during the en:ht. -<-nth and nineteenth centuries. His great
\\ork no south -r appeared in Britain than it was read, and the
opinions it maintained adopted, by every one who pretended
ny knowledge of the important subjects of which it
treated. It quickly, and with like success, spread through
other lands. Never was the force which mere intellect
s more strikingly manifested. To illustrate his
speculations, to cast them into new forms suited to the
varied tastes of various nations, became an employment by
which men of undoubted genius thought themselves honored.
His reasonings are the basis of numerous systems and
innumerable essays. A voluminous library might be formed
of the works of men who call him master. Nor were the
dicta of a retired student acquiesced in, and embraced, only
by theorists like himself. They have guided the councils,
they have formed the text book of statesmen, and have had
an important influence on the policy of nations.
Against doctrines supported by so great a weight of
authority, what, it may be demanded, can possibly be urged ?
and how comes it, that so obscure an individual as the author
of the following pages, places himself in opposition to them ?
Custom authorises me in a measure calls on me in
answer to these questions, to state to the reader how I was
led to form opinions opposed to this system, and why I
bring those opinions before him.
Many years ago, I became engaged in a series of inquiries
into the circumstances which have governed the history of
man, or, to vary the expression, into the causes which have
made him what he is in various countries, or has been in
various times. It seemed to me, that, by gathering together
all that consciousness makes known to us of what is within,
and all that observation informs us of what lies without,
the real agents in the production of the great events by
which the fortunes of our race have been diversified, might
be at least partially discovered, the laws regulating their
procedure traced, and that thus the materials for a true
Natural History of man might be reached. The pursuits in
which I was then engaged led me to the subject on the side of
physiology, and what is termed metaphysics, and imagining
AUTHOR'S PREFACE xlvii
that I saw a ray of light struggling through the obscurity of
the objects, amidst which these investigations placed me,
I began to conceive hopes of being able to dispel some of
the darkness, in which are involved causes that have
produced, and are producing, results of the highest import-
to us. To this pursuit I determined to devote myself.
i a resolution would scarcely have been taken by any one
unless prompted by the enthusiasm natural to youth, and
would not have been adopted by me, had I not had the
prospect of enjoying every facility in following out the objeets
I had in view ; but a sudden and unexpected change took
plaee in my circumstances, and I exchanged the literary
ire of Europe for the solitude and labors of the Canadian
: woods. I found, notwithstanding, that this accident
could not altogether put a stop to my inquiries, though it
irded them and altered their form.
I had early turned for assistance to the Inquiry into the
Xnturr and Causes of the Wealth of Nations, and to the
illations of the political economists. But, I found
their scope and design too confined, to advance the attain-
ment of my purpose in the degree I had anticipated ; and I
had besides the mortification of perceiving, that the con-
clusions to which they led, were, in many points, opposed
to those at which I had arrived. Encountering opposition
wli.-re I had looked for support, I applied myself to ascertain,
it possible, the cause, and, after having spent considerable
in the inquiry, conceived I had detected enough of
fallacy in the speculations, even of Adam Smith himself,
lii t more especially of his successors, to warrant the belief
that my conclusions might be right, though the practical
rules that might be deduced from them, would not coincide
\\ith those laid down in what is termed the science of
political economy. But, though I became satisfied on this
. it was not my intention to have directly ntta< -k >d any
<>f the tenets of the school. Setting out from a new point.
it seemed to me, that, however far 1 mi^ht advance, it would
not he necessary for me directly to oppose, or to attempt to
krovert, any received opinions.
my residence in this country, the field of my
xlviii AUTHOR'S PREFACE
inquiries being much contracted, I again recurred to the
disquisitions of Adam Smith, and of other European writers,
of the same school, in order to trace out more fully than 1
had hitherto done, the connexion between the phenomena
attending the increase and diminution of wealth, and those
general principles of the nature of man, and of the world,
determining, as I conceive, the whole progress of human
affairs. Though I was led to this study, simply from my
desire to advance, as far as my situation permitted me, in a
path of investigation which had, to me, a very lively interest ,
my prosecution of it had the effect of impressing me more
deeply with a conviction of the unsoundness of the system
maintained in the Wealth of Nations.
In this stage of my progress I became engaged in a work
on the present state of Canada, and on its relations
with the rest of the British Empire. These relations seem
to me to spring from the mutual benefit arising to the colony
and the empire from their connexion. The sect of poli-
ticians, to whom I allude, deny that any such benefit arises
to either party. Were their reasonings correct, it would
follow as a necessary consequence, that Canada is, in this
respect, of no advantage to Great Britain, and would go far
to prove, what, indeed, seems by many to be believed, that
the sooner the connexion between them is dissolved the
better.
Dissenting as I do, from the opinions of these theorists,
it appeared to me, that the work I had undertaken required
me to state some of the reasons on which I grounded this
dissent, and that, without entering at length into any of
the important questions involved in the discussion, I should
be able at least to cast a shade of doubt over doctrines
asserted with great dogmatism, and acted on with unhesitating
confidence. In endeavoring, however, for this purpose, to-
arrange a series of arguments drawn from a modification
of principles that originally suggested themselves to me
when engaged in more enlarged inquiries, my work gradually
assumed a far more extended and systematic form, than I had
at first meditated ; and I became engaged in the present
attempt, to show that there exist great and radical errors in
AUTHOR'S PREFACE xlix
the whole system, sufficient to vitiate very many of the
conclusions drawn from it, and from the fallacies intro-
duced by which , the doctrines of free trade alone derive their
plausibility.
In the prosecution of the argument, I have almost entirely
confined myself to the consideration of the doctrines to
which I am opposed, as they are developed in the Wealth
of Nations. I could not have done otherwise, without
becoming involved in the discussion of contradictory and
conflicting opinions. Neither, as I conceive, is this limita-
tion of essential importance to the determination of the
points in debate. If Adam Smith be essentially wrong, none
of his followers can be right. The system established by
him stands, or falls, with him.
I am not ignorant of the dangers to which this attempt
subjects me. Whoever ventures to attack a system received
so generally, and supported by so great a weight of authority,
is exposed to various evils. They who have embraced its
principles are apt to slight and neglect, or, if that may not
be, to conceive it their business to overthrow the heterodox
doctrines. What of error they may contain is eagerly seized
on, what of truth, is overlooked. " Who," asks Mr. Locke,
" is there, hardy enough to contend with the reproach which
is ever prepared for him, who dares venture to dissent from
the received opinions of his country and party? And where
is the man to be found, that can patiently prepare himself
t. bear the names, that he is sure to meet with, who doth in
the least scruple any of the common opinions?" Though
many things are altered since the days of Locke, mankind
are but little changed. In his days, indeed, the prejudices
of the times ran towards opinions, which, acquiesed in by
many -n- ceding generations, were, therefore, conceived to
;i real plurality of judgments in their favor. Now, on
the contrary, to have been believed from of old, is deemed
t<> indicate defect, and that alone is admitted as of approved
igth, which has not been subjected to the test of time.
Tn tins, newrthrlrss. there is a perfect agreement, that men
appeal not so much to truth itself, as to prevalent opinion,
an i are disposed to treat whatever stands opposed to it, as
1 AUTHOR'S PREFACE
necessarily erroneous. It were, then, in vain for me, I ;mi
.aware, in reply to the charge of presumption in challenging
th. opinions to which the celebrated author of the Wealth
of Nations has given currency, to answer, that it is not so,
ami that, on the contrary, "he is the general challenger :"
that his disciples form, in reality, but a sect, one setting
itself in opposition to the belief of all preceding ages, and
in its rise and progress presenting nothing dissimilar to the
other numerous sects, which time, in its course, has seen
-appearing and disappearing : that, therefore, if we really
appeal to authority, its decision is against, not for, the
present political creed. Such arguments would certainly
fall on deaf ears. The authority, in which men acquiesce,
is that which is present, and to which they have been
accustomed to yield assent. Whatever is opposed to this,
and separated from it by distance of time or space, has no
influence on their judgments.
But, although, instead of assistance, I have to look for
opposition, from this quarter, I nevertheless believe, that I
have an auxiliary of great power on my side. In political
questions, before they see that they are wrong, it is common
for men to feel that they are so. The progress of recent
events seems to have excited a general sensation of this sort
over Great Britain.
It is natural that these circumstances should beget a sort
of feeling of doubt. That, without pretending to question
the general truth of the system established by Adam Smith,
many should yet ask themselves, is the path which he has
pointed out, truly that which always leads directly to the
wealth of nations? In this temper of the public mind, I am
inclined to hope that the application of new principles to a
reconsideration of the whole subject, may be conceived to be
an undertaking deserving, at least, of being examined, and
that the defects of the following pages may not be thought
sufficient to prevent what measure of truth they may contain,
from being perceived and appreciated.
MONTREAL, 1833.
AUTHOR'S PREFACE li
POSTSCRIPT.
In the preceding pages, the reader has an explanation of
original design of the work which I venture to place
before him ; but, in preparing it for publication in this
country, I have made some alterations in it, the nature of
which it is proper I should here state.
The doctrines which Adam Smith maintained with so
much ability, never took so deep hold in this country as in
land, and they have been more strongly opposed. There
i- hence, a very considerable difference between the state of
public sentiment in Great Britain and America, concerning
th< most interesting practical questions of political economy.
This is especially the case with regard to the policy of the
protective system. The practical bearings of that system
on the condition of things in this republic, have been dis-
cussed so often, and with so much ability, that probably few
new arguments or facts concerning it can be brought forward
ny one, least of all can they be expected from a foreigner.
Although, therefore, I look on the effects of the policy
pursued by the legislature of the United States, as affording
the best practical illustration hitherto existing of the correct-
ness of some of the principles I maintain, I have scarcely
11 referred to them for that purpose, but have contented
my>rlf with showing how the benefits resulting from the
operations of the legislature, in this and in other similar
s, are to be accounted for. I have thus omitted much
matter that would have appeared, had the work been
piihli-h -.1 in England, but which it seemed to me, would be at
I- i>t superfluous here. These omissions occur in the third
book, which is consequently much abridged.
To the second book I have made some additions, having
n fuller development to the principles thnv .-xplain.-.!,
and traced their connexion with events at greater length,
ih an is necessary for the mere purpose of exposing the
fal heirs of the theoretical views, the refutation of which
Hi AUTHOR'S PREFACE
was originally my sole design. As the additions were made
in the progress of the work through the press, in one or two
instances I have been led to refer to subjects to be afterwards
treated of, which I found it impossible to comprise within
such limits as would admit of their insertion. These
omissions, however, do not occasion any break in the chain
of reasoning. There are, also, some topics, which though
I have introduced, I have but partially discussed, and merely
so far as may serve to show some of their connexions with
principles expounded. The most important of these is the
subject of banking.
BOSTON, 1834.
INTRODUCTION.
OF all the circumstances connected with the "Inquiry into the
Wealth of Nations," there is no one more remarkable than the
fact, that its celebrated author leaves us in doubt what he him-
self understands by that " wealth," the nature and causes of
which it is the object of his inquiry to investigate. His
followers have scarce been more fortunate. They have sought,
by definitions, to remedy the acknowledged defect, but have
been unable to agree in the terms of them. The school is
thus split into many little sects at variance with each other
regarding the very elements of the science. 1
It seems to me that this circumstance arises from, and very
clearly marks the existence of, a great and fundamental defect
in the principles of investigation on which Adam Smith and
the school he founded proceeded ; an uniform tendency to
In ill that up as an explanation of other things, which, in
reality, is the very thing itself to be explained.
It is the nature of wealth in the general, and the laws
regulating its increase and diminution, that can alone, as I
conceive, form the proper subject of philosophical investigation.
Tln-.se being determined, from them may be deduced the
manner in which particular societies, or particular individuals,
come to possess this or that amount of wealth. But, though
is the proper philosophical view of the subject, it is not
that under which it appears to common observers.
Before men begin to speculate, they are obliged to act.
are therefore first !!, in regard to any system witli
'[Rae here refers to a quotation from Lauderdale which ia reproduced
as " Note A " in the Appendix.]
2 INTRODUCTION
which they have to do, to fix their attention altogether on the
phenomena exhibited by it, without attempting to reach the
causes of those phenomena. It is usually long after the events
themselves have thus been observed and noted, that to trace
their causes becomes the employment of philosophers. The
mere sailor, for example, regards the winds simply as con-
nected with the different seasons, the various regions of the
globe, and the particular aspect of the heavens at the time.
This makes up the sum of his knowledge concerning them,
which, notwithstanding, may be very extensive and of great
practical utility. It is not his object to inquire into the
general causes producing all these phenomena, nor into the
laws regulating the general system of things, of which they
make a part, and so of ascertaining the true nature of the
different winds, the real manner of their existence, and the
measure of their force and duration. He believes that while
that system endures as it is, his knowledge will serve to
direct his practice, and this is all about which he concerns
himself. An extensive practical knowledge of this sort here
long preceded a philosophical knowledge of the subject. It
has been the business of the latter, as it has at last had place,
to ascertain the nature of wind itself, and the causes producing
all the different winds, and acting on them For this purpose
the philosopher has turned himself to the investigation of
whatever, in the general system of things, is connected with
that concerning which he inquires; to the constitution and
properties of the atmosphere ; the effects of changes of tem-
perature on aeriform fluids; the motions induced by these,
by the rotatory movement of the globe, and by other circum-
stances. From them he deduces the true theory of wind, and
shows that it is in accordance with the observations and rules of
him, who has been accustomed to view the subject in its practi-
cal bearings alone, and tends to elucidate and simplify them.
In a somewhat similar manner wealth was felt and noted in
its effects long before, as a circumstance largely affecting
societies, it was proposed philosophically to investigate its
nature and causes. To mark those effects, " riches " and a
series of other terms of the sort, were invented. Like all
every-day words and phrases they apply to the obvious aspects
INTRODUCTION 3
of particular facts and occurrences, and have no necessary
reference to the causes of those facts and occurrences. All
such speculations are foreign to mere practice, and never even
enter into the explanations and reasonings of the merely
practical man. However complicated the social system of
which any person engaged in the acquisition of wealth makes
a part, he has no difficulty in tracing the manner in which
that portion of it which he possesses has been acquired, nor in
explaining how it forms to him a certain amount of what he
calls capital. But in giving this explanation, it will be ob-
served that for the elements of his statements, he has always
recourse to the existence and continuance of certain circum-
stances and regular trains of events in the general system of
human society. What the things may be which give origin
and regular succession to these events is a speculation lying
out of his road, and on which he probably never enters.
Though, therefore, he can easily tell how he got that which
constitutes his wealth, and how to him it comes to be wealth,
he will yet probably confess that he is unable to say what
constitutes wealth in general, from whence it is derived, or
what are the exact laws regulating its increase or diminution.
These are questions of which the solution is very clearly shown
to be of great difficulty from the mass of discordant opinions
concerning them. 1
Adam Smith, in this and in other instances, by transferring
without hesitation, terms made use of to mark and explain the
affairs of common life, to denote the great phenomena which
the affairs of societies present, falls, as it seems to me, into
t\vn errors. In the first place, he in a great measure misses
that which is the real object at which his inquiry aims, the
-tigation of the true nature and causes of national wealth,
and shows, by holding out sometimes one notion of it and
sometimes another, according to the different lights in which
at different times the subject presents itself to him, that he
has no very definite ideas concerning it. In the second place,
laturally, and in very many instances, falls into the error
of taking, what in truth are the results of general laws
governing the course of this class of events for the laws them-
1 [See Note B " of the Appendix.]
4 INTRODUCTION
selves, and so of elevating effects into causes. His procedure
is not very dissimilar to what that of a philosopher would have
been, who, desiring to investigate the nature of wind, should
have assumed it as already known, not as an event, but as a
thing, and should have conceived it his business merely to con-
nect and arrange the various phenomena in relation to it,
with which practice had previously made mankind familiar.
Such a system could not have failed to have embodied great
radical defects, for it would have been built on principles
fundamentally erroneous.
His followers, by the use they make of definitions, appear
to me rather to have introduced new evils, than to have
applied a remedy to those already existing. Definitions give
us the mastery of words, not of things, 1 and therefore by taking
them as they have done, for principles of investigation, not
auxiliaries to it, their labors have generally issued in adducing
arguments instead of collecting and arranging facts, the former
being the proper fruit of an attention to words, the latter of
an inquiry into the nature of things.
I conceive that the fallacies of the particular doctrines I
oppose, may be most effectually exposed by tracing out the
true nature of that wealth, the manner of the augmentation
and diminution of which forms the subject of controversy ;
that we can neither assume this as a thing already known,
nor hope, by any mere intellectual effort, to comprehend it in
an ingenious definition ; that when it is really discovered, it
must be, as has happened in other things, that disputes
concerning its manner of existence, its increase and decrease,
will terminate, or, instead of hinging on plausible arguments,
may be settled by a reference to ascertainable facts. It is,
therefore, such an investigation, that I propose partially to
attempt ; and it is chiefly on the results of it, that I mean
1 A sailor would never think it necessary to explain what wind is. Were he
asked to do so, it is very probable he would answer " that which blows," and
this would be a correct enough marking out of the meaning attached to the
word. Mr. Say, in like manner, defines value as what a thing is worth.
*' Valeur des choses. C'est ce qu'une chose vaut." Riches, again, he defines
an amount of values. " Richesse, c'est la somme des valeurs." Capital,
an accumulation of values. Vide Epitome des principes fondamentaux de
2'economie politique.
INTRODUCTION 5
to rest my demonstration of the reality of those errors, the
conviction of the existence of which has been my motive for
engaging in the present undertaking.
Dugald Stewart prefaces the observations he makes on
Adam Smith's great work, with the following remarks: "An
historical review of the different forms under which human
affairs have appeared in different ages and nations, naturally
suggests the question, whether the experience of former times
may not now furnish some general principles to enlighten and
direct the policy of future legislators ? The discussion, how-
ever, to which this question leads, is of singular difficulty ;
as it requires an accurate analysis of by far the most com-
plicated class of phenomena that can possibly engage our
attention, those which result from the intricate and often
the imperceptible mechanism of political society ; a subject of
observation which seems, at first view, so little commensurate
to our faculties, that it has been generally regarded with
the same passive emotions of wonder and submission with
which, in the material world, we survey the effects produced
by the mysterious and uncontrollable operation of physical
causes." l The science of Political Economy he considers as a
part of this great subject.
If the accuracy of these observations be admitted, as I
think it must, the inquiries in which Political Economy
engages, lead to the investigation of the general principles
of human action, and it is to be considered but as a branch of
a larger science, having for its object, to trace the laws to
h man is subject as a moral and intellectual animal, acted
on by the system of things existing in the world, and acting
in turn on them; to explain from those laws the events which
past history, as far as known, exhibits; and to collect
the means of ascertaining what will be the future course
While to be able clearly to unfold the laws regulating
events with which it deals would imply the capacity
of tracing those regulating the whole system of phenomena
of which man is the centre, just as to explain with accuracy
the laws regulating the motions of one of the heavenly bodies,
*Lifc of Smith.
6 INTRODUCTION
implies the knowledge of principles capable of disclosing the
prescribed movements of them all.
I have already observed, that the subject first met me when
engaged in the investigation of some principles which I con-
ceived might in time assume a form capable of a general
application of the sort. To attempt here an extensive
generalization of this kind would be out of place, and is
impracticable, because of necessity only a small portion of
the phenomena are before us. Political Economy itself makes
but a part of the subject to which such generalizations belong,
and it is only one division of political economy of which
we are to treat. It has usually been discussed under the
heads of stock, wages of labor, and rent, and it is to the first
of these that our investigations are to be altogether confined.
It is only therefore in such parts of the subject as present
a sufficient mass of phenomena, to warrant the procedure, that
I shall attempt to introduce any very general principles. In
other cases I will confine myself to the simple statement of
facts admitted by all parties.
CHAPTER I.
OF ECONOMIC AMBITION AND THE MEANS ESSENTIAL
TO ITS REALIZATION.
CICERO gives the following summary of the principles exciting
m;in to action, and of the mode in which they lead him to
act: 'inter hominem et beluam hoc maxime interest,
quod haec tan turn, quantum sensu movetur, ad id solum,
i adest, quodque praesens est, se accommodat, paullulum
admodum sentiens praeteritum, aut futurum. Homo autem,
quod rationis est particeps, per quam consequentia cernit,
causas rerum videt, earumque progressus, et quasi anteces-
siones non ignorat, similitudines comparat, et rebus praesentibus
ad jungit atque annectit futuras : facile totius vitae cursum
videt, ad eamque degendam praeparet res necessarias. Eademque
natura vi rationis hominem conciliat homini et ad orationis,
et ad vita; societatem : ingeneratque in primis praecipuum
quendam amorem in eos, qui procreati sunt : impellitque ut
hominum coetus, et celebrationes, esse, et a se obiri velit : ob
easque causas studeat parare ea, quae suppeditent et ad cultum,
et ad vie turn : nee sibi soli, sed conjugi, liberis, ceterisque, quos
habeat, tuerique debeat."
" The chief distinction between man and the inferior animals
ists in this. They are moved only by the immediate im-
pressions of sense, and, as its impulses prompt, seek to gratify
i from the objects before them, scarce regarding the fin
or endeavoring from the experience of the past to pr<>
against what is to come. Man again, as he is endowed with
reason, by which he is able to connect effects with their causes,
8 OF ECONOMIC AMBITION
to perceive the principles which guide the progress of affairs,
and to join together the present and the future, easily discerns
the course of his whole life and prepares whatever may be
necessary for passing it in comfort. The same intellectual
powers also, which nature has bestowed on him, give scope to
his affections, and join him to his fellows by the ties that
spring from language and the connexions of social life. It
is from this source that we must trace his peculiar provident
love for his offspring, his concern for the interests of society,
and his desire to mingle in its business and pleasures.
" From these principles it is that man is incited and enabled
to provide beforehand whatever may be requisite both for
utility and ornament, not only to himself but to his wife, his
children, and all others who may be dear to him, or whom it
may be his duty to protect."
It is unquestionably the capacity for perceiving, and retain-
ing in his mind, the course of events and the connexion of one
with another, that leads man to perceive what advancing
futurity is to bring forth, and enables him to provide for its
wants. This provident forethought distinguishes him from the
inferior animals, and the degree in which he possesses it marks
his rank in the scale of civilization. 1
When he has gained any knowledge of the nature of things
[the operations of nature] around him, he finds many that
satisfy more or less perfectly his present wants. He knows,
also, that if he live to see the future he will then have similar
wants and desires. Some of the occurrences satisfying his
desires and wants exist abundantly ; others, sparingly or im-
perfectly. If he regard the future, he must wish that those
occurrences of which he now can only obtain enough to
satisfy his wants sparingly and imperfectly, should exist then,
so as that he might be able to obtain them to satisfy those
wants abundantly and perfectly.
His faculties of observation and reason generally give him
! [In contrast to the animals " man has thoughts far-reaching, he has con-
certed and long-extended plans." (Fragment of Rae's MS.) The animals,
indeed (notably ants, bees, and the like), exhibit a certain degree of "provi-
dent forethought ; " but it is non -progressive. Man is characterized specifically
by ever-expanding wants, and hence by ever-expanding undertakings to
satisfy them.]
OF ECONOMIC AMBITION 9
the power of effecting this. For the objects affording satis-
faction of his desire are mere arrangements of matter.
His faculties of observation show him their nature, and the
manner in which the train of events going on amongst
them succeed each other. He perceives that the occurrences
which are the means of satisfaction of his present wants,
or which were of those he felt a little time since, and
which will probably be of those he will feel in future, are
either the immediate result of the nature and form of some
things around him, or of the trains of events which, in
consequence of that form and nature, are taking place among
them. He cannot alter the nature of things, but in many
cases, he is able to change their form, that is, the particular
.iigement of the matter of which they are formed ; and
his reason instructs him, that if by doing this, he can so
alter the trains of events proceeding from them or depending
on them, that they may either form, or cause to be formed, or
put in his possession, objects fitted to supply more perfectly or
abundantly what probably will be his future wants, than
any objects that would otherwise exist, he then is able to
provide for the future. This in many cases he can do, and
thus he acts.
A North American Indian in his canoe comes to an island
in some lake or river, and finds near it a good station for
fishing. He therefore determines to remain there for the
fishing season. Towards evening he paddles his canoe to
shore, lands, kindles a fire near a large tree, wraps his
blanket about him, places his feet to the fire, his head to
the trunk of the tree, and thus prepares for repose. In so
doing, with the exception of kindling the fire, he takes
advantage simply of his knowledge of the nature of the
things around him, and seeks from them the best supply
they can give him of what he wants, that is, of shelter
from wind and weather.
It rains and blows during the night, the tree shelters
him somewhat, but still he gets cold and wet. In the morn-
ing he spends some hours providing a better shelter against
inclemency of any such night in future. Of branches and
he makes something like one half of the roof of a house,
10 OF ECONOMIC AMBITION
only much smaller, the open side being towards the south and
the fire, the sloping side towards the north from whence comes
cold and rain. Thus, though he cannot prevent the wind from
blowing, or the rain from falling, his knowledge of the manner
in which the trains of events forming these phenomena succeed
each other, or if you will, his knowledge of the laws which
regulate their motions, instruct him so to direct them, that
the one shall not blow, or the other fall, on a particular spot,
which he knows he may at some future time wish to remain
calm and dry. This time may be distant, for it may not rain
or blow so as to inconvenience him for a week or two, never-
theless to provide against it he gives a good many hours
present labor.
Next evening, before going to repose, he finds the turf damp
from the rain of the former night. He looks for an elm tree,
cuts off a piece of its strong thick bark large enough for him
to sleep on, covers it with the soft branches and leaves of the
white pine, and forms a dry and soft bed for himself. Thus
his knowledge of the materials around him enables him to
form what he wants, a dry and soft place of repose.
In this island he discovers a small wild plumb tree, he
relishes the fruit, but there is little of it. Eesolving to return
in succeeding seasons he lops the branches of the surrounding
trees to give this room to spread, and expects thus to find next
year a more abundant crop. 1 Here his knowledge of the
manner in which trees and fruit grow and thrive, or his
knowledge of the order of the trains of events which termi-
nate in the full development of the tree and abundance of its
fruit, enables him so to work on the matters around him, as to
occasion them to produce more abundantly next season, than
they have this, what then he will desire.
He thinks not of providing for any future want the means
to supply which, will, without this, exist in sufficient abun-
dance. Thus water, in such a situation, he knows he will
always be surrounded with. Were the same Indian encamped
in the woods, by a very scanty spring, he would dam it up,
1 This is a possible supposition, but it is more probable he would neglect it,
perhaps cut it down for the sake of reaching more easily the fruit it carried.
OF ECONOMIC AMBITION 11
and cover it with branches so as to keep cool a quantity
of water for his future occasions.
The proceedings of man are everywhere similar. He has
always an end in view, he employs means to effect this end,
and there is a manner through which he effects it. The end is
a supply for future wants; the means, the bringing about
of such events as may serve to supply them; the manner,
a knowledge of the qualities with which nature has endowed
the materials within his reach, of the series of events in conse-
quence arising among them, and an application of this know-
ledge to produce, through his corporeal powers, such an
arrangement of these materials, as may so change the issues of
events that would otherwise have place, as to bring about
those which he desires. It is true, that, in most instances,
men simply copy the proceedings of others, and think not
of the principles on which they conduct their operations,
nor of the observations from which these must originally
have been deduced. But, though the knowledge thus acquired
from this storing of observations, and deduction of principles
from them, is not the mode in which individual men operate,
it is the mode in which the operations they carry on must
have been first brought into practice, and on which they
are all founded.
We may easily satisfy ourselves of this, by turning our
attention to the manner in which any of the articles we
use for the supply of our wants has been formed. Bread
may be an example. A farmer, some two years ago, made
<e of a particular field for the cultivation of wheat.
he been asked why he did so, he could have stated
the different circumstances in the soil, and the previous
> that it had carried, which had thus determined him.
I-} ploughing and harrowing it a sufficient number of times,
horoughly broke, and pulverized the land. This he did,
because he knew, from observations he or others had made,
in this state the seed he intended to deposit there would
\vhcn it came to germinate, more easily spread its roots around
haw nourishment from among the particles of earth
t which it would grow. He allowed a considerable time
ipse between the several operations, that the weeds might
12 OF ECONOMIC AMBITION
have time to spring up and be destroyed. Thus he knew they
would be prevented from afterwards injuring the growth of
the crop. He also spread over the field, and covered in, a
quantity of manure, because experience had taught that
this substance gives vigor to vegetation. He then sowed the
seed, in the mode, and quantity, and at the time, which obser-
vation had instructed him was the best, covered it with a
harrow, and waited the harvest. When he perceived the
grain sufficiently ripe, he cut it down with an iron hook
having a form and edge which experience had ascertained
to be best adapted for this purpose, made it into bundles,
exposed them to the sun and air so that they might be dried,
when this was effected, conveyed them to his barn and stored
them there. Having lain there some time, the grain was
separated from the straw by the process of threshing, it
was then carried to the granary, where, having been kept
for a longer or shorter period, it was thence taken to the
mill, and, by a very ingenious process, reduced to small
particles, and then separated by another process into three
parts, of which the finest part, the interior of the grain called
flour, being packed in sacks or barrels, was preserved for use.
A certain portion of this, mixed with a particular ferment,
wrought with the hand and exposed to the action of fire,
became bread.
It is very evident, that all the steps of these various pro-
cesses depend on a knowledge of the course of natural events,
and are regulated by that knowledge. A long series of
observations of this sort, and of reasonings deduced from
them, could alone have enabled the farmer to prepare the
ground properly for the seed, or, after the grain had come
to maturity, to preserve it, to separate it from the straw,
and fit it for being converted into flour. The observations
on the trains of events connected with the production of this
grain that have been committed to writing, fill many large
volumes, and besides these, every farmer is obliged to have
a great store of his own, to guide him in his proceedings.
Thus, in the single process of cutting down and storing up
this crop, his success in securing it uninjured depends on
observing and noting well a great variety of particulars.
OF ECONOMIC AMBITION 13
He observes the plant carefully, and discovers, from the
appearance of every part, from the dryness of the stem, the
drooping of the ears, the fulness of the grain, if it be in a
proper state to cut down. If he make any error in this, he
will either have unripe, and therefore shrivelled and light
grain, or he will lose great part of it by its being shaken off
the stem in harvesting it. Next, before he determine on
commencing the operation, he regards the aspect of the sky,
watches the rising and setting sun, notes the color of the
air, the appearance of the clouds, the direction of the wind,
the dew on the grass, and perhaps has recourse to that delicate
instrument, the fruit of so many ingenious observations, the
barometer. By means of all these, he is enabled to draw
tolerably correct conclusions, in regard to the probable state
of the weather for some succeeding days. This knowledge
influences greatly his farther operations ; for experience has
taught him that the injury which severe rains, coming on the
grain when newly reaped, would occasion, is very great. If,
therefore, the weather promise to be fine, he will commence
cutting it down a few days sooner than he otherwise would ;
if rain threaten he will wait a few days longer. When he
has it reaped he gets it tied into bundles, which are put up
in small parcels, and so disposed, that the wind may penetrate
through them, and the rain be as much thrown off from
them as possible, and thus the plant may have the best
chance of being securely and quickly dried.
This drying is watched with care, and, when it is judged to
be sufficiently advanced, the crop is transported to the barn,
there to wait till the proper period of threshing it out arrives.
All these processes are, it is evident, governed by rules drawn
trm assiduous and long continued observation, and their
success depends on its extent and accuracy.
Were we to examine the manner in which all the articles
we provide for the supply of future wants are produced,
we slmuM find that they depend, in this way, on observations
on the course of events, and on reasonings founded on these
observations. Were proof wanting of this, we might turn at
hazard to any complete treatise on any art. On examining
(3 would invariably find it to contain a set of observations,
14 OF ECONOMIC AMBITION
the result of experience, and of reasonings, and rules, drawn
t'lum these observations.
Since then man provides a supply for his future wants by
his reason directing his industry, through means of his know-
ledge of the course of events, to effect such changes in the
form or arrangement of the parts of material objects, that
these may produce articles fitted to afford this supply, it
were desirable to have some common name to denote all the
changes, which, for this purpose, he so makes. On this
account I propose to give the denomination of instruments
to all those changes that, for this purpose are made in the
form or arrangement of the parts of material objects. 1
The term instrument is, in general, properly enough em-
ployed, to denote any means for the attainment of some end.
In common use, however, and as applied to material things,
it seems to be restricted to such arrangements of matter as
owe their chief efficacy to what are called the mechanic
powers. Thus a lever or a wedge is an instrument, the
manner in which each of them operate being chiefly explained
on mathematical principles. A spade, which is a combination
of the two, is also an instrument. The tools which carpenters
use are instruments. We speak in the same way of in-
struments of husbandry, meaning by the phrase the articles
used in that art, whose properties may be explained on
mechanical principles.
In all these cases, however, other principles than those which
are merely mathematical must enter into our calculations. In
the simplest lever we have not only the properties of a mathe-
matical line to consider, but also, the weight and strength of
the substance used, and these make the difficulty in the proper
application of such an instrument, A wedge operates in many
ways, besides those that may be considered to be derived
simply from mathematical principles ; as for instance in the
percussion, which it receives and communicates, and through
1 [0ur author does not express himself well here. Rae's idea is that he
proposes to give the denomination of instrumental production to all those
changes in materials which man makes in the pursuit of his economic ends.
The instruments themselves are not the "changes," but the immediate result
of them.]
OF ECONOMIC AMBITION 15
means of which, if skilfully applied, the most solid rocks may
be rent. The farther we recede from such simple instruments,
the more extensive do we find the action of properties, which
could only be ascertained by a long series of observations. It
would be impossible, for instance, to give any a priori rules
for the construction of that most useful instrument the plough.
It is, no doubt, a wedge, but the particular form giving the
test efficacy to it, is a point of very difficult determination,
not yet, perhaps, fully ascertained. It is accurate observation
that has guided the construction of it, to its present efficiency,
and which may be expected to render it still more perfect.
Were we to enter into an examination of more complicated
machines or instruments, such as the steam engine, or the
cotton mill, the observation would apply with double force,
these generally deriving their efficiency from principles, that
have been the result of very extensive and accurate investiga-
tions of many series of events. In thus using the term, there-
fore, we shall rather deviate somewhat from common usage,
than be opposed to it ; and in doing so, our reasonings will only
be subject to an inconvenience, to which all general reasonings
must be subject, and which may be the more readily excused,
as this use of the term may be defended from its derivation,
its occasional acceptation, and the authority of authors of
respectability. 1
In general then, all those changes which man makes, in the
iViriii or arrangements of the parts of material objects, for the
1 Outilft ou instrument de metier. Jamais mot n'a re^u une acception plus
ae que celle que je voudrais donner ici au terme d'outils, car je desirerais
y comprendre depuis la fronde dont ae sert le chasseur sauvage jusqu'a la
machine la plus vaste, jusqu'au mecanisme le plus complique, jusqu'aux fitrea
M memea qui facilitent le travail de 1'homme. L'enclume du forgeron et
tier pour faire des has, lea aiguilles de la lingere et lea pompes a feu, les
navirea et les betes de somme et de trait ; en un mot, tout produit materiel de
la nature et du travail, tout objet vivant ou inanitm- que 1'homme emploie
pour s 'aider duns son travail industrial, voilaceque j'appelleoutila, instrumens
1 ier. Ce mot, dans son sens le plus etendu, n'exclut que lea conatruc-
* Store h, Vol. I. p. 231.
* " Pourquoi lea exclure? Les constructions sont des p rod u its de I'industrie
me consacr&i a la reproduction ; partant ce sont des outils. In
me eat un out il <|ui ne differe des autrea qu'en ce qu'il n'est point
pnxluit <lt 1 Industrie, maia un don de la nature." J.-B. Say.
16 OF ECONOMIC AMBITION
purpose of supplying his future wants, and which derive their
power of doing this from his knowledge of the course of events,
and the changes which his labor, guided by his reason, is hence
enabled to make in the issue of these events, may be termed
instruments. 1
In this sense a field [fitted for use] is an instrument. The
changes effected in the matters of which it, [considered as mere
land,] is composed, for the purpose of rendering it an instru-
ment, are the levelling and if necessary making the surface
dry by means of ditches and drains, the removing stones
from it, the mixing and pulverizing the soil by the plough, the
harrow, and the roller, and the incorporating with it various
matters termed manures, which render it more fit for the
support of vegetable life. The future wants, towards the
supply of which it is an instrument, are food and clothing.
The power which has made it an instrument, is the agri-
culturist's labor, directed by his knowledge of the nature of
plants and soils. The change made in the consequent issue of
events, is the abundant growth of species of plants different
from those originally produced by it, and conducing to the
supply of food and clothing ; or, more generally, the conversion
of various vegetable matters of the soil, and gaseous matters in
the air, into the substance of particular plants. The wheat
grown on this field is an instrument. The changes effected in
it, are its having been separated from the straw by the process
of threshing, and its having been made sufficiently dry by
keeping and exposure to air, to be fit to manufacture into
Hour. The want it tends to supply is nourishment, by afford-
ing bran for the support of some of the inferior animals, as
hogs or cattle, afterwards to be slaughtered, and flour for the
use of man. The power is also the art and industry of the
agriculturist. The change in the issue of events consists in
the grain being ready for the manufacture of flour, instead of
having been left to rot on the ground, to be consumed by
vermin, or destroyed by the access of damp or by the want of
air. Flour also is an instrument. The changes that have
been effected in it are its having been separated from the
wheat, and reduced to a fine powdery matter. The want it
1 [More properly, may be termed the formation and use of instruments.]
OF ECONOMIC AMBITION 17
tends to supply is food by the bread produced from it. The
power, which has operated on it, is the art and industry of the
miller. The change in the issue of events thereby produced is
the existence of flour and bran, instead of wheat. Bread, until
such time as it is in process of consumption, is an instrument.
The change which it has undergone is that induced by the pro-
cesses of kneading, fermenting, and baking. The want it
supplies is food. The power which has operated on it is the
art and industry of the baker. The change on the issue of
events thereby produced is the existence of bread instead of
door.
Though it may seem strange to rank all these in one class,
that of instruments, nevertheless, the doing so is rather un-
usual than improper. They are all means towards the attain-
ment of an end, and, for the attainment of this end, that is,
the production of bread, do they alone exist. The blade as it
springs from the soil, and the [prepared] soil on which it grows,
i together an instrument for this end ; the plant when it
has extracted all the nourishment from the soil which that can
give, and is ripe on the ground, is an instrument ; when it is
i ml put up sheltered from the weather, it is still an in-
strument; so is the grain when separated from it; so it is
when ground in the mill ; so it is when in loaves, put apart
for consumption, until the moment arrives when it is consumed.
It is impossible, if we call it at first an instrument, to point
nut when it ceases to be so, until the moment when it is
actually consuming.
All tools and machines are instruments. Thus a carpenter's
saw is an instrument. The changes effected in the matters of
which it is composed, for the purpose of rendering it an
ument, are, there having been given a fit form and temper
t the steel plate of which it is made, and a handle having
Wn adjusted to it. The wants which it tends to supply are
multifarious, according to the uses to which it is put. The
power that renders it an instrument is the art and industry of
him who makes, and of him who uses it. The changes effected
in the issue of vents l>y its fabrication and use, are the divid-
nt<> regular parts suited to different purposes, a great
number of pieces of timber.
18 OF ECONOMIC AMBITION
In a similar manner it might be shown, that houses, ships,
cattle, gardens, household furniture, manufactories, manufactured
goods, and stores of all sorts are in this sense, instruments.
But it is, I apprehend, unnecessary further to multiply in-
stances ; every thing that man, for the purpose of gaining an
end, brings to exist, or alters in its form, its position, or in the
arrangement of its parts, is an instrument.
As man is thus enabled to provide for the wants of futurity,
by his knowledge of the course of events, it naturally follows,
that in any particular situation, his power to provide for them,
is measured by the extent and accuracy of his knowledge. If
that knowledge be diminished, his power will be diminished.
Thus a deficiency of skill in the art of agriculture, or of
baking, will alike occasion a diminution of the quantity of
food to be got from a field applied to the cultivation of wheat.
Neither can his power be increased, but by an increase of his
knowledge. It is impossible to point out any improvement in
any art, which does not depend on some new observations, or
reasonings, on the course of events connected with that art.
The generally admitted axiom, that knowledge is power,
may not be strictly true. Many facts have been observed
which have not yet been applied to any useful purpose, though
it is probable they will, in time, be so applied. But, though it
may not be strictly true, that all knowledge immediately gives
power, it is so, that all power springs from knowledge, and is
measured by its extent and accuracy. Neither can it be dis-
puted, that it operates by enabling man's - reasoning faculties,
so to direct his industry, as to induce certain changes in the
form and arrangement of the parts of material objects con-
verting them into instruments. " Ad opera nil aliud potest
homo, quarn ut corpora naturalia admoveat et amoveat;
reliqua natura intus transigit."
[Rae's language in the last few pages is not wholly consistent with his
general teaching. The " want " which bread supplies is not properly speaking
" food " (that is really only another name for bread), but the pleasure of eating
and the sense of being nourished. These last are the artifically produced
" events" which are the final goal of the long series of adaptations of means
to ends. Not until bread has been eaten does it cease to be a part of that
great and complicated mass of apparatus which Rae calls instruments, and
which are usually known as economic goods.]
CHAPTER II.
OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES COMMON TO ALL INSTRUMENTS,
AND OF THOSE PROPER TO SOME.
ALL instruments agree in the following three particulars;
1. They are all either directly formed by human labor, or
indirectly through the aid of other instruments themselves
formed by human labor.
Sometimes, though rarely, instruments are constructed by
labor alone. Thus occasionally rough stone fences are put up,
by the hand alone, without the intervention of even a single
tool. But, in most instances, the aid of other instruments is
employed. It is seldom, that even the most common laborer
is not assisted in his operations by some implement or another.
But, whatever instrument or instruments may have cooperated
with labor in the formation of any other instrument, they
themselves have been either altogether, or in part, formed by
labor ; and, by retracing the course of things farther and
farther back, we inevitably come to the conclusion, that labor
was, in this sense, " the first price, the original purchase money
thai was paid for all things," and thus that, directly or in-
lin-ctly, it is to be looked on as the agent that gives form to
every instrument. 1
1 [Rae is here dealing with a restricted aspect of the larger problem. He is
t ly aware, as the context indicates and as he shows more fully elsewhere
[> universal cost of getting wants supplied is labor (mental and physical)
together with waiting and the running of risk, three elements which are
present in every stage of the total process of production, in the formation of
ments as well as in the utilization of them. But here, where he deals
20 GENERAL PROPERTIES OF INSTRUMENTS
For the sake of simplifying the succeeding speculations, as
much as may be, labor will be considered as the agent em-
ployed in the formation of all instruments. When the co-
operation of other instruments is implied in the means by
which any particular instrument is constructed, the degree in
which they cooperate is understood to be measured by the
quantity of labor for which their cooperation is, or might be,
procured ; and, in this sense, that cooperation is spoken of as
an equivalent to labor. The rules, according to which the one
thus measures the other, will be discussed subsequently.
2. All instruments bring to pass, or tend, or help, to bring
to pass events supplying some of the wants of man, and are
then exhausted.
Some instruments once formed, without the further inter-
vention either of labor or of other instruments, produce events
which directly supply our wants. Thus a peach tree yields its
fruit to our hand. The operation of others only tends to the
production of events supplying our wants. The growth of a
crop of wheat is only a step towards fche production of bread.
Others require the help of either labor, or some other instru-
ment. A row boat is useless without the labor of the man
who plies the oar ; a carriage, without the cooperation of the
horses who draw it. All instruments, however, either produce,
or contribute to the production, of events supplying some of
our wants. Their power to produce such events, or the
amount of them that they do produce, may be termed their
capacity}-
It is necessary to have some common measure for the
only with the formation of instruments, for the sake of convenience, he leaves
waiting and risk-taking out of account. He assumes for the purpose of getting
the basis for a certain method of comparison of instruments in general, that
instruments are all formed at one moment of time and that the technical and
mercantile outcome of their formation is certain.]
1 [The technical expression ' ' capacity " of instruments is used by Rae here
and elsewhere ambiguously. There is a decided difference between the
"power to produce" or to further the production, of certain desirable events,
that is, the initial capacity or yielding-power or productivity of a thing ; and
the whole "amount" of such events actually yielded during the life of an
instrument, that is, its total output, its total capacity. Sometimes Rae means
one, sometimes the other ; but as a rule the latter. See Chapter V.]
GENERAL PROPERTIES OF INSTRUMENTS 21
purpose of comparing the capacity of instruments or the
returns that are made by them, with the labor or its equiva-
lents that went to form them. For this purpose, also, labor
will be adopted, and the events brought to pass by any instru-
ment will lie estimated by the amount of labor to which they
are esteemed equivalent by the owner of the instrument. As
we proceed, it will appear, that this use of the term has no
other effect than that of giving distinctness to our nomen-
clature. Besides, it often really happens, that the returns
made by instruments directly compare with labor, because they
directly save labor. For instance, wooden or metal pipes are
occasionally used to conduct water from a spring to some
(I welling- house. Were they not there, the water would have
to be carried within the dwelling by some of the domestics,
and therefore the instrument formed by the pipes may be said
indifferently, either to supply a certain amount of water, or
save a certain portion of labor.
With one considerable exception, afterwards to be noted, all
instruments at length bring to pass, or aid in bringing to pass,
all the events which they can bring, or can help to bring to
pass. I shall use the term exhaustion, to denote this passage
of things from the class of instruments, into things which are
n<>t instruments. When an instrument is said to be exhausted,
it is meant that the matters of which it was composed have
passed out of the class of instruments into that of materials.
Sometimes they pass from the one class to the other
suddenly. Thus, articles used for food and fuel, bring to
pass all the events for which they were formed, very shortly.
The appetite of hunger is gratified, and heat is communicated
to the frame, in a few minutes, and the faggot and the bread,
having yielded all the nourishment and heat stored up in
thci 11, then cease to be instruments. Gunpowder brinu r >
certain events to an issue instantaneously. The bullet is
uirged, and the rock split, in an instant. This sudden
complete exhaustion of the capacity of instruments is
what is usually termed consumption. Sometimes the matters
; uments are formed pass from the class of instru-
ments to that of materials by degrees. Thus tools and arti< !<-
<>t wearing apparel are in use for a long time before they cease
22 GENERAL PROPERTIES OF INSTRUMENTS
to be instruments. A saw may be in employment for years ;
a hat defends the head for months. When the capacity of
instruments is thus gradually exhausted, it is usually said that
they are worn out, and this sort of exhaustion is termed wear.
Sometimes the capacity of instruments is accidentally done
away with, and they consequently pass out of the class of
instruments, without being exhausted. Thus a house may be
burned, cloth may be eaten by vermin. They are then said
to be destroyed. A partial degree of this is damage. In
calculating the capacity of instruments, it is necessary to
reckon the risk they run of destruction or damage. In any
estimation of the capacity, for instance, of a crop of wheat,
we have to make as accurate an allowance as may be, for the
risk of its destruction or damage, by the inclemency of the
weather or other accidents, before the harvesting of it be
accomplished. 1
3. Between the formation and exhaustion of instruments a
space of time intervenes. This necessarily happens because
all events take place in time. Sometimes that space extends
to years, sometimes to months, occasionally to shorter periods,
but it always exists.
The circumstances we have hitherto assumed as common to
all instruments, and the events they generate, will, I believe,
on examination, be found actually to be so. There is one
circumstance, however, which it is necessary to assume as
common to them all, and which in reality is not altogether so.
In comparing the capacity of two or more instruments, which
supply, or tend to supply, wants of the same sort, we may
very often measure them by the relative physical effects,
resulting from the action of the events brought to pass by
1 [It is also necessary, especially in the case of machinery, to take into
account the risk of an instrument being superseded through new inventions.
In every progressive industry great masses of instruments are constantly
being thrown on the junk heap long before they are worn out.
But this is taking the point of view of the individual rather than that of
society. The community gains, as regards the capacity of its instruments,
through a rapid advance of the arts ; although individuals (particularly those
with the least powers of adaptation) suffer pecuniary loss. Rae has in mind,
obviously, losses which nobody gains.]
GENERAL PROPERTIES OF INSTRUMENTS 23
them. Thus, if the consumption of one cord of fire wood, of
a particular sort, is capable of producing exactly double the
heat which the consumption of another cord of another sort
produces, a cord of the former, will have double the capacity
of a cord of the latter, and, if the one be equivalent to four,
the other will be equivalent to exactly two days labor. In
the same way, a log of timber from Norway, about to be
employed in the construction of a house, if of equal size,
strength, and durability, with another from Prussia, may, with
justice be considered as of equal capacity to it; and so of
many other instruments. We shall see afterwards, however,
that this mode of determining the capacity of similar instru-
ments, is in many cases incorrect, and that the instances are
very numerous, where the relative capacities of instruments of
the same sort, depend on other causes than their mere physical
properties. The assumption, therefore, that they may be so
determined, is to be considered as hypothetical, and to be
tolerated from the difficulty of otherwise treating the subject ;
in the same manner as the hypothetic existence of strictly
mathematical lines, and the absence of friction and of the
tance of the air, is excused, in reasonings concerning the
mechanical properties of matter. As in these reasonings, an
attempt will be made to ascertain the extent, and mode of
operation of those other causes ; and, having traced what seem
to be the great moving powers, and the laws governing them,
we shall endeavor to discover the circumstances which retard
>r derange their motions.
1 1 may be proper here to notice the acceptation, in which
ro other terms of frequent subsequent occurrence, are to be
ived. Some instruments are easily moved from place to
and, on this account, there are peculiar facilities, in
hanging them with others. This seems to be the character
istinguishing what are called goods, or commodities, from
ler instruments, and it is in this sense, that these terms
I, in the subsequent pages, be employed.
[It is not through inadvertence that several times daring this chapter Rae
of events which instruments "produce." His notion of production,
24 GENERAL PROPERTIES OF INSTRUMENTS
made abundantly clear elsewhere, excludes the part man plays, and has refer-
ence only to the part played by the instrument its functioning, its bringing
things to pass as the last link in the chain of causation. His formula for the
total process which we call production would be : man forms and directs
instruments, which last produce events which constitute satisfactions of want,
or, events leading toward satisfactions of want. It is desirable to make such
a distinction, but without running counter to accepted terminology. For the
part played by instruments, Rae himself, in this chapter and elsewhere,
incidentally supplies us with an appropriate name, generation. "The
circumstances we have hitherto assumed as common to all instruments, and
the events they generate. . . ."]
CHAPTER III.
OF CERTAIN CIRCUMSTANCES ARISING FROM THE
INSTITUTION OF SOCIETY.
MAN hardly exists but in the social state. If separated
>m infancy from his fellows, his peculiar faculties scarcely at
all develop themselves. His mental and bodily capacities and
energies seem, also, to be moulded by the condition of the
society of which he is a member. We may venture to predict,
that three children born tomorrow, one in Caffraria, another
in China, and a third in London, and remaining in their
respective countries till the age of twenty, will be very
di fit -rent beings, and that each will possess the mental and
bodily peculiarities, that characterize the particular community
to which he belongs. The same things, though in a lesser
degree, hold true concerning the men composing every nation.
Whether these characteristics of different races, tribes, and
peoples, proceed altogether from some peculiar hereditary con-
uition of the bodily organs, or from the effects of education,
example, and habit, or from the combination of these, or frmu
other causes, it is very certain that they exist, and that the
and intellectual condition, as well as the bodily organ i /a -
of men, vary, as they belong to this, or that society.
Besides this, institutions, forms of government, and laws,
influence somewhat the genius, and considerably affect the
luct, of every people, and these also are very various. It
thus happens that every society has, what may be torn MM!, a
tistinctive character of its own.
It is therefore assumed, in the succeeding investigations,
26 OF SOCIAL SOLIDARITY
that the moral and intellectual powers, the knowledge, the
habits and dispositions of the men composing every separate
community, society, nation, state, or people (terms which, as
t'.u- as our subject is concerned, may be considered synonymous),
are such as to give it a peculiar character distinguishing it
from other communities. It is also assumed, that the average
character of the members of different portions of the same.
community is similar, so that, were a considerable number of
the inhabitants of any particular state, taken from one part of
its territories, they would closely resemble an equal number,
taken from any other part. This latter assumption is not
exactly accurate. There are great differences, especially in
extensive states, between the characters of the inhabitants of
different portions of the same territory. These diversities
render it sometimes necessary to modify the conclusions that
follow from considering the average character of the members
of the same community as perfectly similar. Thus, the
differerent characters of the inhabitants of England, Ireland,
and Scotland, affect somewhat deductions in this subject,
drawn from treating the characters of the population of
different parts of Britain as uniform. In truth, every large
society might be divided into several smaller societies, differing
somewhat from each other. If they differ in some particulars,
however, they agree in many more, and certain results follow
from this agreement, which make it convenient to treat of
them as one. If necessary too, the amount of the inaccuracy,
arising from the assumption of a more perfect uniformity than
exists, may be ascertained.
2. Man, as an organic being, is governed by laws similar
to those which other organic beings obey. Our subject
obliges us to advert to a consequence arising from one of
them.
In the midst of the numerous revolutions and accidents
to which the surface of the globe is subject, it is always
abundantly replenished with animal and vegetable life, and
the numbers of every race upon it are kept up to the quantity
of materials fit for their subsistence which it affords them.
The increase and decrease of the human species, follows the
general law. This seems to be the foundation of what has
OF SOCIAL SOLIDARITY -27
been termed the doctrine of population. In the subsequent
pages it is received, simply as a statement of the fact, that
the numbers of every society increase, as what its members
are inclined to esteem a* sufficient subsistence, is provided for
them. 1
The great majority of the members of every community,
procure their subsistence by labor, and, according to this
principle, the number of laborers in every community must
finally depend on the amount of those things esteemed by
them sufficient for their subsistence, which is annually dis-
tributed among them. It has been supposed, however, that
there is a constant oscillation above and below this limit, and
that sometimes therefore the supply having to be divided
among a greater number, the amount that each receives is
less, sometimes, having to be divided among a smaller number,
is greater, and thus that the wages of labor, though they
always tend towards a fixed standard, never remain at it.
Admitting that this continual vibration may take place, I
conceive I may be permitted nevertheless to disregard it,
and to assume that the remuneration awarded the laborer,
Is, in the same society, always a fixed quantity. As it is not
intended to enter into any investigation of the principles
determining the amount of the wages of labor in all societies,
and at all times, nor to discuss the somewhat contradictory
doctrines that have been maintained on this subject, the most
simple assumption, and that, the errors arising from which
may be supposed to balance each other, seems the best.
Even considering the subject however under the most
iple conditions possible, there are still some difficulties
ittending it. The articles which the laborer uses, for food,
lothing, etc., and which constitute his real wages, are con-
tinually varying. Thus, among the working classes in Great
Britain, fabrics of cotton have, in a great measure, taken
place of those of linen, and wool for clothing ; as coal has
taken the place of wood for fuel. Seeing there is this change
in what constitute the wages of labor, how then, it may
1 [This is an uncritical following of the teaching of Malthas upon which Rae
made a great advance in his later years. (Compare the last part of Chapters
VI ,-ui.i XIII., and the Article on Population in the Appendix.)]
2s OF SOCIAL SOLIDARITY
be demanded, can wages at any two times be considered
equal?
In answer to such a question, it may be observed in general,
that all articles supplying the wants of the laborer, and form-
ing his real wages, are fitted for this purpose by some physical
qualities they possess, producing certain effects on his bodily
organs, and through them, occasionally, on the perceptions and
thoughts of his mind. One article, therefore, may be esteem oil
equal to another and different article, if the effects produced
by both are equal. Thus a certain quantity of coal, may be
considered equal to another of wood, if each gives out the same
degree of heat. In many cases it is indeed very difficult
to make this comparison with accuracy. This however is not
absolutely necessary for our purpose, it being sufficient to con-
ceive, that, what are termed the wages of labor, in the same
society at different periods, are really equal quantities,
whether we have, or have not, the means of measuring
them, and ascertaining that they actually are so. This
may evidently be assumed, if we suppose that the laborer
is equally well nourished, clothed, lodged, and instructed,
and has equal leisure, at the one period and at the other ;
whether he be fed, clothed, and lodged, in the same way
or not.
As the vigor of mind and body, as well as the skill, of
different individuals in the same society, are unequal, the rate
of the wages of labor, even in the same society, is far from
uniform. It is however difficult and in general reasonings un-
necessary, continually to refer to this variety ; and as it has,
in consequence, been usually neglected, we shall not farther
advert to it.
According to the preceding assumptions, labor, in the same
society, is to be considered as an invariable quantity, and
a day's labor as the unit, serving as the base for calculations,
concerning the formation and exhaustion of the capacity of
instruments. It is to be observed, however, that when so
employed, it finally refers, not to the mental and corporeal
effort exerted throughout the day by the laborer, but to the
wages received by him. The laborer is, usually, merely the
agent of some other person, and that other person is, in
OF SOCIAL SOLIDARITY 29
reality, the one forming the instrument constructed, as the
wa^es of the laborers employed by him are the causes of
its being constructed. 1 In cases, too, where the laborer works
for himself, he rates his daily labor equal to a certain amount
of some of the things he is in the habit of consuming, and this
amount may be considered, as what he really gives to the
construction of the instrument, in the formation of which he
employs himself.
The rates of wages vary, very much, in different societies.
A ( hinese laborer, for example, subsists on very much less
than an English laborer. On the principles of calculation
which we have adopted, there is, therefore, a difference, in
tin* quantity embraced by a day's labor in one country and
in another, and we cannot immediately compare, by this
means, instruments formed in one society, with those formed
in another. Our system has, in this respect, an analogy
t<> the different systems of numeration, with regard to weights,
measures, and coins, adopted in different countries. It will, as
we proceed, appear, that this diversity in the rate of wages,
in different communities, has also other and more important
effects.
3. Every society possesses a certain amount of materials
capable of being converted into instruments. The surface
ot its territory, the various minerals lying l>elow the surface,
its natural forests, its waters, the command it may have of
the ocean, and its consequent property in the minerals ami
animals contained in it, the rain that waters its soil, the
flrmentary principles that may be extracted from the atmo-
sphere, even, perhaps, the light and heat of the sun, are
all to be regarded as materials, which, through the agency
he labor of its members, may l>e converted into instru-
ments. The extent of the power, which the inhabitants
any state may possess, to convert into instruments the
iterials of which they have the commaml is ho\\v\rr
1 [This is one of the comparatively few places where Rae speaks specifically of
" laborers " and touches upon the function of the eiUrepeneur. It is not
in general but the entrepeneur, in our state of civilization, who forms
-< from materials with the aid of hired "labor," which last thus
becomes economically an analogue of " materials."]
30 OF SOCIAL SOLIDARITY
variable ; and increases, as we have seen, as their knowledge
of the properties of these materials and of the events, which
in consequence of them, they are capable of bringing to pass,
increases. Thus the large extent of the knowledge of the
civilized man, compared with that of the savage or barbarian,
gives him the power of constructing a much greater number of
instruments out of the same materials, and enables the Euro-
pean emigrant to convert the soil and forests of America
or New Holland, into means of producing a great mass of
desirable events, which it was beyond the technical capacity
of the ignorant native to effect.
CHAPTER IV.
A METHOD FOR THE COMPARISON OF INSTRUMENTS.
As by the capacity of instruments is to be understood their
power to produce, or bring to an issue, events equivalent to a
certain amount of labor, and as they are also formed by labor,
it is evident that the capacity given to any of them, and the
labor expended in its formation, have determinable numerical
relations to each other. The length of time likewise, elapsing
between their formation and exhaustion, may be expressed in
numbers. If a series then were devised, of such a nature, that
any relation that can exist among these three quantities, in
consequence of their varying proportions to each other, might
be embraced in it, every possible instrument would find a place
there.
It is to be observed that, in consequence of a principle soon
to be explained, no instruments will be designedly formed, luit
such as have a greater capacity, or issue in events equivalent
to more, than the labor expended in their construction. This
circumstance renders the formation of such a series more easy,
as it renders it unnecessary to take account of any other in-
struments than such as issue in events equivalent to more than
the labor expended in their formation, or, what may l>e termed,
the cost of their formation. To simplify the consideration !'
the matter, we may, for a little, proceed on the supposition,
that every instrument is constructed at one precise point of
time, and exhausted at another. In that case, every instru-
ment would find a place, in some part of a series, of \vhi< -h
the orders were determined by the period of time at which
32 THE COMPARISON OF INSTRUMENTS
instruments placed in them, issue, or would issue, if not before
exhausted, in events equivalent to double the labor expended in
forming them. These orders may be represented by the letters
A, B, C, * * Z a, b, c, etc. The relation to each other of the cost
of formation, the capacity, and the time elapsing between the
period of formation and that of exhaustion, of instruments in
the order A, is such as may be expressed by saying, they in
one year issue in events equivalent to double the labor ex-
pended on their formation, or would so issue, if not before
exhausted. The relation between these, in instruments of the
order B, is such, that in two years they issue in events equi-
valent to double the labor expended on them, and are then
exhausted. Instruments in the order C, in three years issue
in events equivalent to double the cost of formation ; of the
order D, in four years ; of the order Z, in twenty-six years ; of
the order a, in twenty-seven years, etc. For the sake of
facility of expression, instruments in the order A, or in the
orders near it, will be said to belong to the more quickly
returning orders ; instruments in the order Z, or in the orders
near it, or beyond it, will be said to belong to the more slowly
returning orders. 1
To imagine, in the first place, as simple a case as possible.
An individual, say an Indian trader, is obliged to reside on a
particular spot in the interior of North America, for somewhat
more than a year. He arrives in autumn, and immediately
sets about enclosing and digging up a piece of ground, for the
purpose of having it planted with maize. He expends on this
twenty days' labor. That labor he reckons equivalent to ten
bushels of maize. He gets the maize planted, hoed and
harvested next season, by Indian women, agreeing to give
them part of the crop. After deducting their portion he has
twenty bushels for himself, with which he leaves the place.
The field he formed was then an instrument of the order A.
The same individual has to reside a little more than two years
1 [A more correct expression would be the "more quickly" or "more
slowly " doubling " orders." The degree of speed with which an instrument
yields returns, or the physical results of its functioning, is only one of the factors
which determines the time in which it affords double the outlay on its forma-
tion, and which places it in a certain order.]
THE COMPARISON OF INSTRUMENTS 33
in another quarter of the interior. He clears, or has cleared
on his arrival, another piece of ground, and also expends on
this operation twenty days' labour. Owing however to the
soil being overrun with small roots, and it being necessary to
wait till they partially rot before a crop can be put on it, he
is aware that it cannot be planted until the second year. It is
then planted as before, and, as it happens, with the same event
as in the former field, yielding him net twenty bushels of maize.
This field then was an instrument of the order B. In the same
way it is possible to conceive the formation and exhaustion of
other instruments of this sort, answering to the orders C, D, E,
etc., the capacity of them all being double the cost of formation,
and the times intervening between the periods of formation and
'xhuustion, being respectively three, four, five, etc. years. Al-
though, however, instruments exactly corresponding to the
conditions assumed, may occasionally exist, and although it is
possible at least to conceive their existence throughout a
lengthened series, yet, in fact, they seldom do exist so as
exactly to answer the suppositions. In by far the greater
nuiiiter of instances, neither are the times elapsing between
the periods of formation and exhaustion, any exact number
of years, nor are the capacities exactly double the cost of
formation. But, in all variations of these three quantities
iVnin an exact correspondence with any of the orders, the
proportions existing between them, will, nevertheless, always
be such, as to make it possible to reduce the instruments
in \vhi(;h they occur, to some order or another in our series,
or to an order that may be interposed between two proxi-
mate orders.
Such variations may be reduced to three sorts. The first
ists of instances where the capacity is double the cost of
K -t inn, but the time, no exact number of years. In this
case, the instrument does not exactly belong to any of the
t 'numerated orders, but falls between two proximate orders: it
therefore be said to belong to an order, that may be sup-
posed to be interposed between these two. Thus, an instru-
ment 1><- ing exhausted in between seven and eight years, and
having a capacity equal to double the cost of production,
lit be said to belong to an order lying between G and H.
c
34 THE COMPARISON OF INSTRUMENTS
This designation would mark its character with sufficient
accuracy for our purpose.
There are only two other cases. The capacity of the instru-
ment may be exhausted before it arrive at an amount equal
to double the cost of formation, or, it may not be exhausted
until it has come to an amount greater than double the cost of
formation. In the former case it is necessary to suppose the
period of exhaustion prolonged, the excess of the capacity of
the instrument over the cost of formation increasing at the
same ratio, until the capacity double the cost. It will then be
shown to belong to some particular order, or to lie between
two proximate orders. Thus, let an individual have it in his
power to make use of a small plot of ground for six months,
and let him expend an equivalent to two days' labor in prepar-
ing it for receiving the seeds of some plant, sowing them, and
cultivating the crop, and let it return him, at the end of six
months, an amount, which, reduced to the value of days labor,
would be 2 '8 2 8. If then we suppose the period of exhaustion
prolonged, the excess of the capacity over the cost increasing
at the same ratio, in twelve months time the capacity will
be 4 ; for, 2'828 is a mean proportional between 2 and 4.
The instrument formed by the plants so cultivated, would
therefore belong to the order A, that order doubling in one
year.
In the case where the capacity comes to more than double
the cost of formation, the order in which the instrument should
be placed, is to be found, by retracing the progress of its
capacity, under the supposition that it advanced at the same
rate, until we arrive at a period when it was only double the
cost. The interval between that and the period of formation,
will then indicate the order to which it really belongs.
The bread fruit tree is perhaps twenty years old before it
will bear ; but ten of these trees, when in bearing, will, it is
said, nearly supply a family of South Sea islanders with a
sufficiency of this sort of food for eight months in the year.
This sort of fruit tree requires, too, no other labor or
attention than that bestowed in planting it. Suppose, then,
that an inhabitant of one of those islands were to spend an
hour in planting a few of these trees, and that, according to
THE COMPARISON OF INSTRUMENTS 35
the hypothesis of sudden exhaustion, on which we are proceed-
ing, at the termination of the twenty-two years they are
exhausted, yielding at that period an equivalent to two
thousand and forty-eight hours' labor. If then we retrace
the progress, at which the capacity of this instrument has ad-
vanced, we will find that it belongs to the order B. For
instruments in that order doubling in two years, one hour's
labor, if employed in forming an instrument of that order,
ought to yield an equivalent to two hours, at the end of the
second year ; and being then employed in constructing other
like instruments, at the end of the fourth year should yield an
equivalent to four hours, at the end of the sixth to eight, and
so the geometrical series, 2, 4, 8, 16, etc. would arise, which,
carried out to the eleventh term, at the end of the twenty-
second year, is 2048. It may perhaps serve somewhat to
illustrate the matter, to suppose, that the individual who
applied an hour's labor to planting the bread fruit tree, gave the
same portion of time to the cultivation of another sort of
plant, yielding its produce and perishing, at the termination of
the second year from the time of its being placed in the soil,
and the returns made from which are equal to double the
labor expended on its culture. Instead of consuming the crop
at the termination of the second year, he gives it to some
other person or persons, on condition of their applying for his
benefit two hours' labor, its equivalent, to the culture of a
second crop ; at the end of the fourth year, he proceeds in the
same manner, and, continuing the process, at the termination
of the twenty -second year, the produce of the labor of both
s, the one applied to the cultivation of the former plant,
and the other to that of the latter, would be equal. The only
diflerence in the cases would be, that the person in question
would, in the latter case, have the trouble of making a
bargain with one or more individuals every second year, and
would then also have the power to apply, if he so chose, to the
supply <>f his wants, the events, in this instance brought about
.is previous expenditure; and that, in the latter case, he
would have neither the power nor the trouble.
\Vc have assumed, that all instruments are formed at one
point of time, and exhausted at another. This is the case with
36 THE COMPARISON OF INSTRUMENTS
but very few. The period of formation almost always spreads
over a large space of time, and that of exhaustion, over
another. It is evidently, however, possible to fix on a point,
to be determined by a consideration of all the periods at which
the labor going to the formation was expended, which shall
represent the true period of formation ; and on another point,
determined from a consideration of similar circumstances
regarding the times when the capacity was exhausted, which
shall represent the true period of exhaustion.
Thus, suppose a small field in some new settlement in North
America were formed by twelve days' labor, it would, were it
of the order A, return in one year an equivalent to twenty-four
days' labor, and then be completely exhausted and worthless.
It might be, however, that it belonged to this order, although
it neither yielded so much as twenty-four days' labor, nor was
exhausted at the end of the year. Say, that the crop sown is
wheat, and, that one bushel of wheat is equivalent to one day's
labor. Were it at once exhausted, it ought to yield twenty-
four bushels of wheat ; it however only yields eighteen, and is
not then exhausted. There is consequently a deficiency of six
bushels. Now, six bushels at the end of the second year, at
the same rate of doubling in a year, ought to produce twelve.
Let us suppose that the next crop is hay, and that the net hay
yielded the second year is one ton, equal to eight bushels
wheat, then (12 8=4), there is still a deficiency of four
bushels, equivalent, at the end of the third year, to eight. If,
therefore, the next crop of hay the third year, be equal to what
it was the second, that is to eight bushels wheat, the deficiency
will then be made up. Let us suppose that it is so, and that
the field is at that time totally exhausted and useless. It is
evident, that such a field, though not producing or being
exhausted as by the supposition, yet producing and being
exhausted, in a manner equivalent to the supposition, might,
with propriety, be said to belong to the order A.
But, it is farther probable, that such a field might not pro-
duce quite so much grain, or hay, as we have even by the last
hypothesis supposed, and would not even at the end of the
third year, or for a much longer period, be exhausted ; still, if
the deficiency in the one were equivalent to the farther supply
THE COMPARISON OF INSTRUMENTS 37
in the other, it would evidently properly belong also to the
same order.
Again, by the suppositions we have made, the labor, or its
equivalent, was expended exactly at the commencement of the
period of one year. It might however have been, that some
part of the expenditure, going to the formation of this instru-
ment, was made several months before the commencement of
the year, and some several months after. But, had what was
expended before, been proportionably less, and what was
expended after, proportionably greater, the change would not
make any alteration to the relation existing between the time
inn! the expenditure, or, consequently, to the place of the
instrument.
The spaces over which the several points of time, at which
the formation of any instrument is effected, extend, and those
over which the several points of time at which its capacity is
exhausted also extend, frequently run into each other. Thus
according to our system a riding-horse is an instrument. The
space of time over which the whole period of his formation
nds, commences when his dam is put apart for breeding,
continues as long as any thing is laid out for the purpose
of giving efficiency and durability to him as an instrument,
and probably therefore only terminates a few days before the
ill -nth of the animal. , There would be a number of points all
along that space, at each of which something had been ex-
pended on his account, and from the date of which, and the
amount expended at each, data would be furnished, to ascertain
the whole expense of his formation, and the precise point from
whence it might be dated. The whole period of his exhaustion
would also extend over a large space. It would commence
wh -a he was first ridden for pleasure, or business, and would
terminate shortly after his death, when his hide went to the
tanner, and his flesh to the dogs. An account of the several
pended, and the times when they were expended, and
ot the several items yielded, and the times at which they were
yirMi'd, would furnish data for determining the total cost of
ition and capacity and the points to be fixed on as tin
periods of formation and exhaustion, and thus the place of the
u merit could be determined.
38 THE COMPARISON OF INSTRUMENTS
Calculations of this sort would be intricate, and could not be
well effected without having recourse to methods, not usually
employed in investigations like the present. In point of fact,
there is in practice, as we will afterwards see, a system of
notation of instruments, which enables us pretty accurately,
and very easily, to determine their place in such a series as we
have supposed. It is sufficient for the end here aimed at, to
perceive that when all particulars are known, concerning the
formation and exhaustion of any instrument, and the periods
intervening between these, data are then furnished for placing
it in some part of such a series as we have described ; and that
it may consequently be assumed that every instrument does, in
reality, belong to some one order in the series A, B, C, D, etc.,
or to an order that may be interposed between some two
proximate orders of that series.
It may perhaps appear, that though, could instruments be
considered apart, the foregoing explications might serve to
show, that they might all be reduced to a place in our series,
yet, as they very commonly act in combination, and as, in such
instances, the events in which two or more of them issue are
the same, it must be impossible to fix with accuracy the order
to which each belongs. Thus, a horse and a cart form together
an instrument for the transport of goods. The events, there-
fore, in which both issue, being the same, we cannot measure
the part that may belong to each, in any other manner, than
by appropriating to each the proportion indicated by their
respective costs of formation, and hence they will both appear
to belong to the same order, though perhaps they do in fact
belong to different orders. But our subsequent inquiries will
show, that the great mass of the instruments existing in the
same society are, in reality, at about the same orders ; and,
that instruments acting in combination with other instruments,
are almost always at the same orders. This objection is there-
fore removed, as all instruments acting in combination may
thus be considered as one.
Instruments are frequently repaired. The labor or its
equivalent, so expended, may be considered, either as a partial
reformation of the old instrument, or as the addition of a new
instrument to be combined in action with the old one. The
THE COMPARISON OF INSTRUMENTS 39
same rules therefore, apply to repairs effected on instruments,
as to their original formation.
We have assumed, hitherto, that both formation and ex-
haustion are properties common to all instruments. There is
however a class of instruments, that forms an exception to this
general rule. An extensive and important class exists, of a
nature so peculiar, that the instruments belonging to it are
r exhausted, unless in consequence of some revolution in
the circumstances of the society. That part of the surface of
the earth devoted to agricultural purposes composes this class.
The peculiarity arises from every portion of land so employed,
forming two distinct instruments. A piece of land, that it
may do its part in providing a supply for future wants, must
first be rendered capable of culture, and then be cultivated.
It is not necessary that he who renders it fit for culture,
should also cultivate it, though it commonly happens that both
operations are performed by the same individual. But by
whomsoever the operation of converting waste land, into land
bearing crops, be performed, two ends are always gained by it,
the power of cultivation, and the actual culture. There is this
great difference between them, that while the changes pro-
duced in a piece of land to fit it for cultivation are lasting
(remaining unless some means be taken to do away with
them), those that are effected on it by the actual process of
( ultivation are of short, or at all events, of limited duration.
When an individual has converted a portion of morass or
forest, into a field fit for the operations of tillage, it does
not return again to the state of morass or forest. He has
fitted it for being made an instrument of agriculture, or
rather a succession of instruments of agriculture. The
fanner, by manuring it, sowing certain seeds in it, and
tilling it, forms it into such an instrument. The changes
}i< i thus effects, however, pass away. The seeds he sows,
growing into plants of different kinds, are carried off; the
manure yields part of its substance to them, and is in part
ipated; the soil that had been loosened and pulverized
by the plough and harrow, is gradually again compacted
and hardened, by the effects of the action of the sun
and rain. As far, then, as it was actually an instrument of
40 THE COMPARISON OF INSTRUMENTS
agriculture it is exhausted. But its power of being again
formed into such an instrument remains, and the same opera-
tions, the same rotation of crops, may indefinitely succeed one
another.
The individual who first forms a portion of land into these
combined instruments, has probably in view, only the ends to
be gained by one of them. His motive to expend labor on the
formation of the field, is to fit it for immediate culture. But,
he cannot effect this, without also rendering it capable of being
cultivated to all succeeding times. The returns, which for
this reason it makes in those succeeding times, form what is
called rent; and this peculiarity in the nature of this sort of
double instrument, is one of the chief causes of the existence
of that particular species of revenue. Any portion of land,
therefore, which bears a crop, considered as regards its fitness
for being cultivated, is an instrument of indefinite exhaustion,
and will not consequently coincide with the conditions by
which the orders in our series are determined. We shall
afterwards see, that in every instance it may, notwithstanding,
be reduced to a determined place in that series. A portion of
cultivated land, considered as an instrument actually subject
to the operations of the husbandman, does not differ from any
other instrument. 1
In conclusion, it may be observed that the position in our
series which any instrument will occupy, is determined by the
following circumstances.
1. The shorter the space of time between the period of its
formation, and that of its exhaustion, the nearer will any
instrument be placed to the order A, that is, towards the more
quickly returning orders.
1 [Possibly the novel ideas set forth above will advantageously bear restate-
ment.
Land made fit for cultivation, but not in process of cultivation, is an instru-
ment toward the attainment of crops. It is formed from materials, that is,
from mere land surface. The farmer, when he manures, plants and tills, makes
an ephemeral superimposed instrument. Rent is paid, in Ricardian phrase,
for the "indestructible powers of the soil"; but these powers are not
" original," but were produced or rendered available by him who first brought
a certain area of land surface into a state fit for cultivation.]
THE COMPARISON OF INSTRUMENTS 41
2. The greater the capacity, and the less the cost of its
formation, the nearer will any instrument be to the order A ;
the less the capacity, and the greater the cost of formation,
the farther will it be from A.
Generally, the proximity of instruments to A is inversely as
the cost and the time, and directly as the capacity.
CHAPTER V.
OF CERTAIN TECHNICAL CIRCUMSTANCES GOVERNING
THE AMOUNT OF INSTRUMENTS FORMED.
HAVING traced the general nature of instruments, and shown,
that the relations existing among the circumstances by which
they are affected, make it practicable to arrange them in a
regular series, the object next claiming our attention, is, to
ascertain the causes determining the amount of them which
each society possesses, and to note the more remarkable
phenomena which the operation of those causes produces.
The causes determining the amount of instruments formed
by any society, will, I believe, be found to be four.
1. The quantity and quality of the materials owned by it.
2. The strength of the effective desire of accumulation.
3. The rate of wages.
4. The progress of the inventive faculty.
The nature of the second of these, and the circumstances on
which its strength depends, will form the subject of the next
chapter, but previously to entering on it, it is necessary to
establish the following proposition.
The capacity which any people can communicate to the mate-
rials they possess, by forming them into instruments, cannot be
indefinitely increased, while their knowledge of their powers and
qualities remain stationary, without moving the instruments
formed continually onward in the series A^ B, C, etc.: but, there
is no assignable limit to the extent of the capacity, which a people
having attained considerable knowledge of the qualities and powers
of the materials they possess, can communicate to them, without
OF TECHNICAL LIMITATIONS 43
carrying them [wholly] out of the series A, B y C, etc., even if that
knowledge remain stationary. 1
The capacity of instruments may be increased, by adding to
their durability, or to their efficiency; that is, by prolonging
the time during which they bring to pass the events, for the
purpose of effecting which they are formed, or, by increasing
the amount of them which they bring to pass within the same
time.
A dwelling-house is an instrument, aiding to bring to an
issue events of various classes. It more or less completely
prevents rain, damp, and the extremes of cold and heat, from
penetrating to the space included within its area. It preserves
all other instruments contained within it, in comparative
safety. It gives those who inhabit it the power of carrying
<ni unmolested, various domestic occupations, and of enjoying,
undisturbed by the gaze of strangers, any of the gratifications
or amusements of life, of which they may be able and desirous
to partake. Events of these sorts, it may bring to pass, for a
longer or shorter time, or to a greater or less extent, within
-ame time. In the former case, the durability is increased,
in the latter, the efficiency ; in both, the capacity is augmented.
Dwelling-houses are built of different materials, and those
materials are wrought up with more or less care. A dwelling
nii.L'ht be slightly run up of wood, lath, mud, plaster, and paper,
which would be habitable only for a few months or years, like
the unsubstantial villages that Catherine of Russia saw in her
progress through some parts of her dominions. Another of
the same size, accommodation, and appearance, that might last
for two or three centuries, might be constructed, by employing
stone, iron, and the most durable woods, and joining and
compacting them together, with great nicety and accuracy.
Between these two extremes there are all imaginable varieties.
According to that adopted, both the durability and the effi-
ciency will be greater or less. These two may be separated
from each other, at least in imagination, and therefore we may
Mei them apart.
'[In other words, in the absence of the advance of the arts, extension of
industrial operations meets with a resistance, but that resistance is never
absolute.]
44 OF TECHNICAL LIMITATIONS
If the increased durability that may be given an instrument
be considered apart from the increased efficiency that will also
probably be communicated to it, it must be regarded simply as
an extension of its existence, and consequently as a like exten-
sion of its capacity. A dwelling-house lasts, we shall say,
sixty years, but in other respects is perfectly similar to one
lasting only thirty years. Considered as an instrument, the
former is, therefore, exactly equal to two of the latter, the one
formed thirty years after the other. A house lasting one
hundred and twenty years would in like manner have the
capacity of four houses, one formed now, a second thirty, a
third sixty, and a fourth ninety years hence. The capacity
thus increasing at the same rate as the duration, if the limits
to the power of giving durability be indefinite, the limits to
the power of communicating capacity are also indefinite.
But to give additional durability to the instrument there
must be additional labor bestowed on its formation. An
increase of the durability of an instrument may therefore be
considered as a power communicated to it of giving existence
to a new instrument at the end of a certain period, and pur-
chased by a present expenditure. The effects [that is, the net
economic result] produced by the change will be determined by
the relations subsisting between the returns made by the
addition, its cost, and the time elapsing between the expendi-
ture and return. If we suppose the present expenditure
necessary to produce the durability, to be always equal to the
durability produced, then the compound instrument will be
moved towards the more slowly returning orders, because the
new instrument is in that case one of slower return. One
dwelling-house lasts thirty years ; another, the same as it in
other respects, but costing double the expense of formation,
lasts sixty years ; the former house is an instrument of the
order 0, doubling in fifteen years. The part of the duration
of the latter extending from the thirtieth to the sixtieth year,
is to be considered, by our hypothesis, as a separate instrument.
If we suppose, that during the time it is in use it returns as
the other, at the end of the sixtieth year it will have returned
only four, and, therefore, is an instrument of the order c
doubling only in thirty years. The compound instrument will,
OF TECHNICAL LIMITATIONS 45
in consequence, be of an order between X and Y, doubling in
between twenty-four and twenty-five years. The procedure of
jtil<ling to the durability, by adding equally to the expense of
formation, will have greater effect in placing an instrument
further from A, the more it is subjected to its operation. Thus,
were an instrument of this sort to have its duration prolonged
to one hundred and twenty years, and at the same expense, the
last thirty would return only four in one hundred and twenty
years, whereas, had it formed an instrument of the order 0, it
ought to have yielded two hundred and fifty-six. Were the
durability increased still farther, at the same cost, the diver-
gence would be much greater, going on in a geometrical ratio.
If, therefore, continual additions be made to the durability of
an instrument, it cannot be preserved at an order of equally
quick return, unless the several augmentations be communi-
cated to it, by an expenditure diminishing in a geometrical
ratio ; that is, in a ratio becoming indefinitely less, as it is
continued. This, however, cannot happen, for it would imply
an absurdity. While instruments are in existence, they are
either producing events, or giving a new direction to their
course. But mere matter, unless in some very rare instances,
is never acting, or acted upon, without undergoing a change.
This we term wear, and the effects it indicates form conse-
quently a definite power, to counteract which, a definite force
must be found. It cannot then, be counteracted, by a force
nitely small.
The same thing may be illustrated in another manner.
When events are produced and governed by design, they in
tui- 1 1 generate other events of greater powers than themselves,
anl these others, in a series rapidly increasing. Mere dura-
bility in instruments, may be considered as a capacity to
generate future events, lying dormant in them, till the lapse of
years exposes its existence, and gives it opportunity to act.
'greater the time therefore, for the expiration of which it
waii. the less the chance of its being on an equality with
is, whose powers are continually and rapidly multiplying
r events, or enjoyments, whenever they have a field on
which to exert their energies.
While the knowledge of the course of events which the
46 OF TECHNICAL LIMITATIONS
members of any society possess remaius unaltered, and the
materials they own are the same, the duration of the instru-
ments they form cannot, consequently, be indefinitely increased,
without their being moved, farther and farther, from the more
quickly returning orders.
The durability of instruments refers only to those of gradual
exhaustion ; their efficiency, or the extent of their power to
bring about events within a certain time, refers both to those
of gradual, and of sudden exhaustion. If the knowledge of
the course of events, and the amount of the materials remain
the same, the efficiency of these materials when formed into
instruments cannot be indefinitely increased, without that
increase being at length made with additional difficulty, and
through means of an amount of labor greater than was re-
quired in the earlier stages. The action of matter upon
matter always depends on some cause. Those causes, the
inherent qualities and powers of the different matters around
him, are the means man employs to make one material to act
so on another as to produce the events he desires, and he does
so by applying his labor to give them such a form and posi-
tion as may bring their powers into play. If we suppose any
number of men to be fixed to one situation, and their know-
ledge of the qualities of the materials around them to remain
stationary, they will naturally first make choice of those
materials, whose powers are most easily brought into action,
and which produce the desired events most abundantly and
speedily. But as the stock of materials which any society
possesses, is limited, its members, if we suppose them to
acquire no additional knowledge of the powers of those
materials, and yet to add continually to the amount of instru-
ments they form out of them, must at length have recourse to
such as are either operated on with greater difficulty, or bring
about desired events more sparingly or tardily. The efficiency
of the instruments produced must therefore be generated by
greater cost ; that is, they must pass to orders of slower
return. 1
1 [There is, in our present-day phraseology, a descent of industry in the
society to a lower margin of productivity.]
OF TECHNICAL LIMITATIONS 47
This passage will be rapid, or slow, as the amount of know-
ledge possessed is small, or great. When art is in its infancy,
and men know but a few of the properties fitting them for
becoming instruments that are inherent in the materials in
their possession, they cannot much vary their mode of proceed-
ing on them, by combining, and giving new turns to their
actions on each other. In more advanced stages of society, on
the contrary, where the powers of a great number of materials
are known, and where consequently their operations on each
other may be combined, and multiplied to a great extent, the
means by which the same end may be attained are very
numerous. Some of them are more easy or expeditious than
others but they differ by very slight degrees, and the instru-
ments formed by successively adopting them, would occupy
positions in our series not widely distant from one another.
If we then consider the capacity that may be given any
amount of materials, by a society among whom the progress of
art is stationary, as separated into the durability, and
efficiency, of the instruments its members form, it would
appear, that they are both subject to similar laws, and that
neither can be indefinitely increased, without carrying the
i i i.-t rumen ts constructed continually on, to orders of slower
return. The same general conclusions must obviously hold
good, conceming the capacity considered as combined of both.
There is, however, a circumstance flowing from the considera-
t in of this union, which is deserving of notice, as it has
iderable effect in the relations between the cost and
<;ity of instruments, and, consequently, on the position to
be assigned them. It often happens, that additional labor
bestowed on an instrument, to give it greater efficiency, gives
it also greater durability. Thus the same choice of materials,
and the same careful and laborious formation of them, that
render the walls of a dwelling-house effective in excluding the
inclemency of the weather, give it also solidity and strength,
and consequently prolong its duration. A tool, in the fabrica-
tion .f which good steel has been employed, not only cuts
better, but lasts longer, than one formed of inferior stuff. In
such cases, and they are very numerous, the capacity being
increased both as concerns durability and efficiency, by tho
48 OF TECHNICAL LIMITATIONS
same outlay, its proportion to the cost is greater, and a larger
expenditure may be made on the formation of the instrument
without moving it at all, or moving it but a short distance,
towards the orders of slower return. Sometimes the same
expenditure that gives efficiency to instruments, partly also
increases their durability, and partly quickens their exhaustion.
Thus, the majority of roads in North America, and in many
other countries, are constructed altogether of the soil of which
the surface happens to consist, arranged in a form adapted to
the purpose. Such roads, unless in the best of weather, are
very inefficient instruments in facilitating transport, and their
durability is so small, that they are probably reconstructed , by
repair, every four or five years. A road formed of small
fragments of stone, in the manner that is termed macadamiza-
tion, costs perhaps twenty times as much, but is both a far
more efficient, and a far more durable instrument. Besides,
however, being more durable, and efficient, the facility it gives
to transport occasions an increase of transport, and its exhaus-
tion is thus quickened. For example, the capacity of a road
of this sort, may be adequate to the transport of two hundred
thousand carriages ; if this be spread over twenty years, it will
be an instrument of much slower return, than if, in conse-
quence of the annual transport being doubled, that number
pass over it in ten years.
As efficiency and durability are frequently produced by
the same means, so, it sometimes happens, that the means
which would add to the one, cannot be employed, without
diminishing the other. Thus there are many tools and uten-
sils, that cannot be made very strong, and therefore durable,
without being at the same time clumsy, and inefficient ; and
they cannot be made very light, and easy to work with, with-
out being also of little durability. The difficulty in the
combination of the qualities of durability and efficiency in the
same materials, can only, however, be considered as absolutely
limiting the capacity of those instruments, to support the
weight of which, a corporeal exertion is required ; and is con-
sequently confined to wearing apparel, and to those tools, and
utensils, which are altogether moved by the hand. When the
weight rests on some firm basis, it can be poised ; and, by the
OF TECHNICAL LIMITATIONS 49
application of sufficient expenditure, friction can be removed.
The circumstance of the qualities of durability and efficiency,
depending on the same materials, has therefore, probably, on
the whole, the effect of retarding somewhat, though not very
greatly, the progress of instruments as greater capacity is given
to them, towards the more slowly returning orders.
The various powers of the material world, seem to be con-
nected at some common centre, and its several parts to exercise
reciprocal influences on each other. Hence, a discovery of
properties in any one material, or more easy modes of
1 'ringing the old into play, generally extends the power of man
over a great range of the other materials, which he had been
in the habit of before applying to his purpose. When art,
therefore, has made considerable progress, and comprehends
within its dominion a multiplicity of materials, the variety of
effects that may be generated, from the action, and reaction, on
each other, of the numerous powers at its disposal, becomes
illimitable. As in numbers, every addition multiplies amaz-
ingly the possible antecedent combinations, until at length the
amount becomes too great to be ascertained. Hence it is,
(hat, though among barbarous nations the ability of man to
ase the amount of instruments he possesses may be
[narrowly] bounded, among nations having made considerable
advance in art, there seems no assigning any limit to it, other
than that indicated in the second part of the proposition,
th- necessary gradual passage of the instruments constructed
to orders of slower and slower return.
It is hence, that, if we turn to any community where art
has advanced, we invariably see, that however much industry
may have already exerted itself on the materials within its
reach, the field for its possible future action seems rather
increased than diminished, and that the farther we stretch our
view over it, to the greater distance its extreme circumference
recedes from us. The industry of the people of Great Britain,
has probably been as largely applied to the materials which its
limited territory possesses, as that of any other community
presently existing; yet certainly there is no lack of matters
on which it might be farther exercised. A large portion of
its surface, and which wants not all the requisites for the
D
50 OF TECHNICAL LIMITATIONS
sustenance of vegetable life, lies, nevertheless, yet uncultivated.
With the exception of the mountainous and rocky regions,
heat, light, air and water, in sufficient abundance rest on every
part of it, nor is the presence of many of the earths, the
mixture of which forms a proper shelter for the tender radicle
fibres, and a commodious storehouse for an important part of
their nourishment, any where wanting. There is also in
general a considerable supply diffused over the surface of the
decomposing remains of former vegetables and animals, the
material which constitutes nearly the whole solid food that
the organic life of plants requires; and, even when this is
deficient at one point, there are larger collections of it at some
other. The outlay requisite, in many instances, to give such
form to these materials, as to fit them for the purposes of the
agriculturist, would, no doubt, be very great ; still, whatever it
might be, as the instrument formed would be of unlimited
duration, the annual returns from it would, in time, exceed
the cost of formation, and bring it within the limits of our
series.
Were we to go over the various other instruments, the
returns from which supply the wants of this community, we
should perceive, that every where their capacities are capable
of being greatly increased. One would not find it very easy
to say, how much might be added to the durability and effi-
ciency of dwelling-houses alone. The amount of the capacity
for the facilitation of future transport, which might be
embodied in railroads, returning ultimately much more than
the cost of their formation, is incalculable ; as is also, the
degree to which mining operations might be extended. Even
supposing all these, and many other instruments, to have
acquired a vastly increased extent, both as concerns durability
and efficiency ; instead of limiting their farther increase, it
would seem likely, rather to open up a still wider space, for the
exertion of future industry in the formation of others. Were
the soil universally cultivated, were railroads extended and
ramified throughout the country, and were the riches of the
mineral kingdom more fully brought out, the additional facility
given to the formation of instruments, by the command
afforded of the materials necessary for their construction, and
OF TECHNICAL LIMITATIONS 51
tin- cast* with which they might be transported from point to
point, would, it may well be supposed, be sufficient to give the
means of a still greater increased construction of them, and a
still farther advance of the amount of the capacities for the
supply of futurity, embodied in the various instruments spread
over the surface of the territory, or lying above, or beneath it.
In short, the more we consider the subject, the more clearly
shall we perceive the impossibility of fixing any [absolute]
limit to the amount of the labor which may be expended in
the formation of instruments, in this, or any other community,
where art has made considerable advance.
This progress [that is, mere extension of industrial opera-
tions], while art itself remained stationary, would, however,
undoubtedly, gradually carry instruments to more and more
slowly returning orders, and would not therefore take place,
unless the society were inclined to construct instruments of
those orders. What the circumstances are, which determine
individuals and societies to stop at this or that order of instru-
ments [in any given state of the arts], will form the subject of
the next chapter.
[Rae does not develop fully in this chapter, or indeed anywhere else, the
bases for a generalized concept of diminishing returns. One additional aspect
of the subject is brought out in the second paragraph of Chapter VII.]
CHAPTEK VI.
OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH DETERMINE THE
STRENGTH OF THE EFFECTIVE DESIRE OF ACCUMULATION.
IT has been shown, in the preceding chapter, that, in com-
munities where an extensive knowledge of the materials within
reach of the industry of their members has generated numerous
arts, we can assign no limit, in the nature of the materials
themselves, to the capacity for the supply of future wants that
might be given to them : but, that the instruments so formed,
pass, by a gradual and uninterrupted progress, to orders of
slower and slower return. It is scarcely necessary to observe,
that the increase to the capacity which may be given to in-
struments, cannot be restricted by inability to devote additional
labor to their construction ; for, as all instruments at the
period of their exhaustion return more than the cost of their
formation, they give the means of reconstructing others, return-
ing also somewhat more largely than themselves. There are,
nevertheless, in every society causes [not physical or technical]
effectually bounding the advance of instruments to orders
capable of embracing a larger and larger circle of materials,
and the determination of those causes is the subject now
claiming our attention.
Instruments are all formed by one amount of labor, or some
equivalent to it, that is, by something either capable of yield-
ing, or itself constituting some of the necessaries, conveniences,
or amusements of life, and they return another greater amount
of labor or its equivalents. The formation of every instrument
therefore, implies the sacrifice of some smaller present good,
THE EFFECTIVE DESIRE OF ACCUMULATION 53
for the production of some greater future good. If, then, the
production of that future greater good, be conceived to deserve
the sacrifice of this present smaller good, the instrument will
be formed, if not, it will not be formed. According to the
series in which we have arranged instruments, they double the
cost of their formation in one, two, three, etc., years. Conse-
quently, the order to which in any society the formation of
instruments will advance, will be determined by the length of
the period, to which the inclination of its members to yield up
a present good, for the purpose of producing the double of it
at the expiration of that period, will extend : according as it
stretches to one, two, three, twenty, forty, etc., years will the
formation of instruments be carried, to the orders, A, B, C, T,
n, etc., and, at the point where the willingness to make the
sacrifice ceases, there the formation of instruments must stop.
The circumstances, therefore, on such occasions governing the
-ion of the members of all societies, must be the causes,
fixing the point to which the formation of instruments may in
any society be carried, and beyond which it cannot advance.
The determination to sacrifice a certain amount of present
good, to obtain another greater amount of good, at some future
period, may be termed the effective desire of accumulation. All
nifii may be said to have a desire of this sort, for all men
prefer a greater to a less ; but to be effective it must prompt
to action.
"Were life to endure for ever, were the capacity to enjoy in
perfection all its goods, both mental and corporeal, to be pro-
longed with it, and were we guided solely by the dictates of
reason, there could be no limit to the formation of means for
future gratification, till our utmost wishes were supplied. A
pleasure to be enjoyed, or a pain to be endured, fifty or a
hundred years hence, would be considered deserving the same
attention as if it were to befall us fifty or a hundred minutes
lirnce, and the sacrifice of a smaller present good, for a greater
future good, would be readily made, to whatever period that
futurity might extend. But life, and the power to enjoy it,
are the most uncertain of all things, and we are not guided
altogether by reason. We know not the period when death
may come upon us, but we know that it may come in a few
54 THE EFFECTIVE DESIRE OF ACCUMULATION
days, and must come in a few years. Why then be providing
goods that cannot be enjoyed until times, which, though not
very remote, may never come to us, or until times still more
remote, and which we are convinced we shall never see ? If
life, too, is of uncertain duration and the time that death
comes between us and all our possessions unknown, the ap-
proaches of old age are at least certain, and are dulling, day
by day, the relish of every pleasure.
A mere reasonable regard to their own interest, would,
therefore, place the present very far above the future, in the
estimation of most men. But, it is besides to be remarked,
that such pleasures as may now be enjoyed, generally awaken
a passion strongly prompting to the partaking of them. The
actual presence of the immediate object of desire in the mind,
by exciting the attention, seems to rouse all the faculties, as it
were, to fix their view on it, and leads them to a very lively
conception of the enjoyments which it offers to their instant
possession. The prospects of future good, which future years
may hold out to us ; seem at such a moment dull and dubious,
and are apt to be slighted, for objects on which the daylight is
falling strongly, and showing us in all their freshness just
within our grasp. There is no man perhaps, to whom a
good to be enjoyed to day, would not seem of very different
importance, from one exactly similar to be enjoyed twelve
years hence, even though the arrival of both were equally
certain.
Nor, while we retain any taste for pleasures, is it easy to
prescribe limits to the extent to which we may indulge in
them, or to the amount of the funds they may absorb. Every
where we see that to spend is easy, to spare, hard. Every one
indeed looks upon those in the rank immediately above him,
as rolling in superfluous extravagance. But, in every rank,
from the prince to the peasant, there are very many indi-
viduals, who have difficulty in procuring funds to defray the
cost of articles, the expenditure of which they look upon as
necessary to their condition, and, for the remainder, in the
different classes, who have more than their utmost real desires
would call for, pleasure is so entwined with extravagance, in
the forms in which she presents herself to each, that it is
THE EFFECTIVE DESIRE OF ACCUMULATION 55
difficult fully to embrace the one, without coming within the
circle of the other.
It would then appear, that merely personal considerations,
can never give great strength to the effective desire of accumu-
lation. A future good, as concerns the individual, when
I'ulanced against a present good, is both exceedingly uncertain
in its arrival, and in the amount of enjoyment it may yield, is
probably far inferior. Such considerations would undoubtedly
represent it, as a great folly to deny youth or manhood plea-
sure, that old age might have riches not to be enjoyed by it,
but which, like the fabled monster in the garden of the
; Brides, it must employ itself with restless care to guard
for others,
" Conservana aliis, quse periere sibi
Sicut in auricomis pendentia plurimus hortis
Pervigil observat non sua poma draco." 1
A prudent calculation of mere personal enjoyment, could
prompt to nothing more than a provision for self, and would
only lead to the making, as it is said, the day and the journey
alike, and taking care that youth should not want pleasure,
nor old age comfort. But, as passion is ever getting the
better of mere prudence, this limit would every now and then
be exceeded, and in numerous instances, the satiety of riot
would be succeeded by the miseries of want. Wherever a
large amount of means for the gratification of the present
existed, they would be squandered, and no one, on the other
hand, would be inclined to make any great sacrifice of the
present, for the purpose of providing for the future. The
strength of the effective desire of accumulation would be
and only instruments would be formed as were of the
<}uiokly returning orders.
But man's pleasures are not altogether selfish. He receives
pleasure from giving pleasure, and is far from the perfection of
xistence when he does not draw his enjoyments, rather
ii "in the good he communicates, than from that which he
<:. Oalli, ?<</. I. The whole elegy is illustrative of that isolation of
f* ling and action, and consequent individual misery and general weakness,
that pervaded th< Kmpirc at the time.
56 THE EFFECTIVE DESIRE OF ACCUMULATION
reserves. Without the ties which bind him to others through
the conjugal and parental relations, the claims of his kindred,
his friends, his country, or his race, life would be to most men
a burden. These are its great stimulants, and sweeteners,
giving an aim to every possible exertion, and an interest
to every moment. If, sometimes, they shadow our being with
cares and fears, those passing shadows but prove there is a
sunshine. The light of life only disappears, and its dreary
night then commences, when we have none for whom to live.
Then the whole creation is a void. Really to live is to
live with, and through others, more than in ourselves. To do
so we must do so truly.
" Love, and love only, is the loan for love."
If the mere pretence deceive others, it mocks and tantalizes
ourselves, encircling us with a joy as unreal, as that which the
looks and tones of affection shed round him, who receives them
disguised in a borrowed garment. We cannot enjoy 'them, be-
cause we feel that they are not ours, but some other's whose
dress we wear.
In so far as to procure good for others, gives a real pleasure
to the individual, he is released from that narrow and imper-
fect sphere of action, to which his mere personal interests
would confine him, and the future goods which the sacrifice of
present ease or enjoyment may produce, lose the greater part
of their uncertainty and worthlessness. Though life may pass
from him, he reckons not that his toils, his cares, his priva-
tions, will be lost, if they serve as the means of enjoyment to
some whom he may leave behind. These feelings, therefore,
investing the concerns of futurity with a lively interest to the
individual, and giving a continuity to the existence and pro-
jects of the race, must tend to strengthen very greatly the
effective desire of accumulation. There would seem to be
no limit to the possible extent of their operation. The more
powerful and predominating they become, the greater must be
their influence. It is true they are often feeble, and oppressed
by other principles, and it is just as true that the world is full
of deceit, hollowness, and unhappiness. As far as they exist,
however, they form a real element of great power in the
THE EFFECTIVE DESIRE OF ACCUMULATION 57
determination of the course of human action, and one the nature
of which would seem to indicate, and experience to prove,
to be of great influence on the particular part of it that forms
our present subject. In the succeeding pages, the terms, the
social and benevolent affections, will be employed to denote them.
The strength of the intellectual powers, giving rise to
reasoning and reflective habits, forms another important
ent in the determination of the course of human action.
These habits in opposition to the passions of the present hour,
bring before us the future, both as concerns ourselves, and
others, in its legitimate force, and urge the propriety of
providing for it. Although therefore, were our cares limited
altogether to ourselves, the greatest strength of the reasoning
faculty could prompt to but a very limited operation on
the events of futurity, yet, the farther they extend to others,
the wider is the circle of operations that we are led to
embrace. These two principles of our nature, the social and
benevolent affections, and the intellectual powers, serve indeed
mutually to move each other to action, the affections exciting
the intellect to discover the means of producing good, the
intellect opening up a channel to the affections by giving the
power to do good.
All circumstances increasing the probability of the provision
we make for futurity being enjoyed by ourselves or others, also
tend to give strength to the effective desire of accumulation.
Thus a healthy climate, or occupation, by increasing the pro-
bability of life, has a tendency to add to this desire. When
engaged in safe occupations, and living in healthy countries,
n i* MI are much more apt to be frugal, than in unhealthy,
or hazardous occupations, and in climates pernicious to human
life. Sailors and soldiers are prodigals. In the West Indies,
Xi \v Orleans, the East Indies, the expenditure of the inhabi-
tants is profuse. The same people, coming to reside in the
healthy parts of Europe, and not getting into the vortex
of extravagant fashion, live economically. War, and pestilence,
have always waste, and luxury, among the other evils that
follow in their train.
For similar reasons, whatever gives security to the affaire of
the community, is favorable to the strength of this principle.
58 THE EFFECTIVE DESIRE OF ACCUMULATION
In this respect the general prevalence of law and order, and
the prospect of the continuance of peace and tranquility, have
considerable influence.
These seem to be the chief circumstances, determining the
relations between present and future good, in the minds of
those in any society, who have a mind and a will, at the time
they are forming habits. When habits are once formed, they
regulate the tenor of the future life, and make slaves of their
former masters. There are, however, in every society, very
many who form habits, and pursue a certain line of conduct
through life, not from any reasoning or choice of their own, but
hurried on by the example of those around them, and the
general direction in which the current of feeling and action
sets throughout the whole body. It is evident, however, that
the power that moves and directs the mass, lies not in them,
but in those who govern their conduct in whole, or in part, by
their own feelings and passions, and the reflections which
the situation of circumstances around them suggests to them.
These form the great moving principle, the others, like the
balance-wheel in an engine, merely keep up, and give uni-
formity, to the motion they generate.
The desire to accumulate would then seem to derive strength,
chiefly from three circumstances.
1. The prevalence throughout the society of the social and
benevolent affections, or, of that principle, which, under what-
ever name it may be known, leads us to derive happiness from
the [future] good we communicate to others.
2. The extent of the intellectual powers, and the conse-
quent prevalence of habits of reflection, and prudence, in the
minds of the members of the society.
3. The stability of the condition of the affairs of the society,
and the reign of law and order throughout it.
It is weakened, and strength given to the desire of immedi-
ate enjoyment, by three opposing circumstances.
1. The deficiency of strength in the social and benevolent
affections, and the prevalence of the opposite principle, a desire
of mere selfish gratification.
2. A deficiency in the intellectual powers, and the conse-
quent want of habits of reflection and forethought.
THE EFFECTIVE DESIRE OF ACCUMULATION 59
3. The instability of the affairs of the society, and the im-
perfect diffusion of law and order throughout it.
The reader may perhaps conceive, that, in enumerating these
different circumstances, and deducing the strength of the
live desire of accumulation from the preponderance of the
one class over the other, I am attempting an unnecessary
iL'tinement, and that the principle of a regard to self interest
alone, though it may not, of itself, give great strength to this
desire, yet, from its combination with other springs of action,
must generally do so indirectly and ultimately and may,
fore, be assumed as a cause sufficient to account for the
phenomena. If we confine our attention to the present times,
and to particular parts of the globe, this may be readily
admitted. Now, and in those places, a prudent regard to self
interest would doubtless prompt many individuals to cooperate
effectively in the increase of the general means of enjoyment.
But there is nothing more apt to mislead us, when investi-
gating the causes determining the motions of any great system,
than to take our station at some particular point in it, and,
examining the appearances there presented to us, to suppose
that they must be precisely similar through the whole sphere
of action. Because, in Great Britain, a regard to mere self
interest, may now prompt to a course of action leading to
making a large provision for the wants of others, we are, in
reality, no more warranted to conclude that it will do so
always, and in every place, than were the ancients warranted
to conclude, because in their particular communities, the pur-
suit of wealth commonly generated evil, that it must therefore
do so always and in every place.
There seem to be, in modern times, and in particular com-
munities, two circumstances, that may lead an individual, from
a mere regard to his personal interest, to pursue the paths of
sober industry and frugality, and, consequently, to make an
extended provision for the wants of others. These seem to be
the desire of personal, and family aggrandizement, and a wish,
conjoined with the pursuit of both, to rank high in the
estimation of the world. The acquisition of fortune, is a road
open to the ambition of all men, and, in the present days, is
>nly road open to that of most men. The mere desire to
60 THE EFFECTIVE DESIRE OF ACCUMULATION
rise in the world, and envy of the superiority of other men,
may excite many to enter on this path, and preserve them
steadily in it. This sort of spirit, however, must be kept in
strict check, by a large surrounding mass of genuine probity,
and tenderness of the happiness of others, or it certainly breaks
out into disorders. 1 There is none more easily tempted to evil,
or more dangerous. It is the first to diminish the security of
all compacts, and transactions of business, by fraud and ex-
actions ; it is the first to disturb the public tranquillity, by
seditions and conspiracies. It is such a spirit, predominating
over a character otherwise good, that Shakspeare paints in
Cassius. Caesar thinks him to be feared, because,
" Such men as he be never at heart's ease,
While they behold a greater than themselves ;
And therefore are they very dangerous."
It is this temper that spurs him on, " in envy of great
Caesar," to " humour, and win, the noble Brutus," to the
assassination. It is the same spirit, that renders him un-
scrupulous,
"To sell and mart his offices for gold,
To undeservers ;"
and, to wring
" From the hard hand of peasants, their vile trash,
By any indirection."
Whenever, therefore, the mere desire of distinction is the
object for which wealth is generally pursued, there, the pursuit
infallibly, at length, withdraws from the path of virtue, and
excites those engaged in it, to a disregard of their own honor,
and the suffering of others.
"Magnum pauperies opprobrium jubet
Quidvis et facere et pati,
Virtutisque viam deserit arduse."
When such is the character of only a small minority of
those who pursue wealth, it is not injuriously felt. The
J [Are we not experiencing just such an outbreak of "disorders" in the
phenomena of Trusts and get-rich-quick schemes, and " graft " of all sorts, at
the present day ?]
THE EFFECTIVE DESIRE OF ACCUMULATION 61
energy of their motion, rather quickens the progress of the
whole, than retards it. It is very different, when such
characters compose the majority of those engaged in such
] >ui -suits. A chaos of deceit, treachery, knavery, is then
generated, in which truth, generosity, good faith, compassion,
perish. Hence it was, that the pursuit of wealth, in ancient
times, was held as absolutely incompatible with the lowest
decree of liberal sentiment, virtuous spirit, or common honesty.
Plato expressly says, that in commerce and traffic there is no
such thing as an honest man, and numerous passages from the
Greek and Koman writers might be cited in proof, that, in
those days, it was admitted on all hands, that the character of
the money-making man was uniformly vicious. The following
is one of the most striking I can presently find.
"It is impossible for the same man to be given to sensual
pleasures, and to the love of money, and to be religious. For
he who is a lover of pleasure will be a lover of money, and he
who loves money, must of necessity be unjust, and a violator
< if the laws of God and man." l It is here not thought
necessary to give any proof of the assertion ; on the contrary, it
is taken as an admitted fact, from which a consequence may
be deduced.
In those times, therefore, the pursuit of wealth was disre-
putable, and the self-love of no one could be gratified by the
character it procured him. We are apt to conceive the obser-
vation of St. Paul, that " the love of money is the root of all
evil, and infallibly leads to wickedness," as springing from the
ascetic spirit in which he contemplated matters, whereas it is
common to him with all the moralists of his time, even with
the most liberal of them, and must be held as a mere statement
of what was then an obvious fact. Thus Horace calls it the
same thing, "summi materiam mali," and the voice of the
whole age agrees with him. An assiduous care to the increase
of fortune was then esteemed evil, and the source of evil, and
was reprobated accordingly. It was evil, because generally
v Ko.1 <t*\o<j(i)tMTov teal ^iXcx/"^* /col QMOtov rbv aiT&r dt/rarar
elvai 6 -yAp ^tX^dorot xai 0<X<xrw/iarof A to 0tX<xru>/xarof Taxru* <cal
*0 W <t>i\oxpfoaLTot l drd-yojt AdiKoi. '0 to Adixot tit ptv Qiov drfoiot tit to
Tout TapdvoMot. Demopkili Similitudines.
62 THE EFFECTIVE DESIRE OF ACCUMULATION
proceeding from a grasping, sordid, selfish spirit. It was the
source of evil, because the great exciter of fraud, knavery, and
violence. It is in more moral communities alone, where the
real springs of action are not selfish, and where a desire for
the good of others is one of the chief movers, animating the
exertions, and giving a tone to the feelings and actions of the
whole body, that the virtuous and liberal mind, sympathizes
with and approves the conduct of the man, who gives his days
to labor, and his nights to engrossing care, for the purpose of
increasing his gains. There, such a life is not deemed selfish,
sordid, or unhappy, because there, it is known generally to
proceed from a totally opposite spirit, and to have for its sus-
taining principle, the welfare of others, rather than of the
individual ; and there, it is esteemed praiseworthy, because
there, its general tendency is good, not evil. There, too,
ambition alone may, no doubt, lead those who want other
motives into the paths of sober industry and frugality, because
the desire of excelling in whatever is attempted, must impel
individuals actuated by it, to every pursuit that other men
gain credit by. It is not perhaps the object gained, so much
as the gaining of it, which gives it value in their eyes. But,
it is only where such conduct procures consideration, arid
respect, that we can expect it will be steadily pursued by such
persons. Where patient and assiduous industry, and un-
deviating integrity, procure the highest name, and fame, they
will be followed by many who value them not in themselves.
But this observation only proves, that we have to seek for the
general course of action of the individual, in the circumstances
determining that of the society.
In modern times, again, and in particular communities, mar-
riage and offspring, and the consequent desire of family
aggrandizement, may often succeed in imposing on those, to
whom the welfare of others is naturally of little moment, the
necessity of providing for that welfare, and therefore may often
generate and keep up a much stronger attention to the cares
of futurity, than could be excited by a mere regard to self
interest. But, it is to be observed, that the mode in which
the passions prompting to marriage will operate, must depend
on the feelings, and consequently, manners, pervading the
THE EFFECTIVE DESIRE OF ACCUMULATION 63
society. When the general feelings and morals become cor-
rupt, marriage will never be sought after, by men in easy
circumstances, for the mere pleasures of sense. Socrates re-
marks this to his son, when pointing out the obligations he
>\\vil him for giving him being 1 and every pure voluptuary is
ivuily to curse, with Eloisa, "all human ties."
The indulgences to which these passions prompt, when the
ngs become purely selfish, will, indeed, I suspect, be found
to be the great weakeners of this very principle. Out of the
heart are the issues of life, and the evils to which they give
rise are the worst of any, because they contaminate the sources
of all healthy energy and activity, at the very fountain head.
It is to them, that Horace, in my opinion, truly traces, the
load of mischief which in his time pressed on Rome, and which
finally overwhelmed her ;
" Fsecunda culpse secula nuptias
Primum inquinavere et genus et domos :
Hoc fonte derivata clades
Inque patres populumque fluxit."
Even on the supposition of legitimate offspring, it is only in
countries where the general sentiment applauds that course of
action, that the man actuated by mere self interest, can be sup-
posed to pride himself on rearing up and providing for a
family, in preference to enjoying, without restraint, all the
pleasures he may be able to procure. Cool, calculating, self
interest, would thus speak. " Who knoweth whether his son
shall be a wise man or a fool ? Yet shall he have rule over
all his labor, wherein he hath labored, and wherein he hath
shewed himself wise under the sun. This is also vanity.
Whereof I perceive that there is nothing, better than that a
man should rejoice in his own works : for that is his portion :
for who shall bring him to see what shall be after him : it is
good and comely for one to eat and to drink, and to enjoy the
good of all his labor that he taketh under the sun, all the days
of his life, which God giveth him, for it is his portion." We
1 Kol pv ov TUV ye dQpo&ia lwv (veica waiSotroieiffOat rofo d.0pwirovi uroXa/i/Sdrm.
/Tel TOVTOV ye TUV droXix^rwv fieffral niv al 6Sol /M0rd W rd ofc^fiara. X< i
Memorabilia.
64 THE EFFECTIVE DESIRE OF ACCUMULATION
find accordingly that in states where mere selfish enjoyment is
the chief principle of action, that the interests of posterity are
neglected. Thus, among the Koman writers, the heir is always
represented in an invidious light, and to save for him is re-
presented as a folly. The writings of Horace, and the con-
temporary poets, throughout, exemplify the prevalence of this
feeling.
" Parcus ob hseridis curam
Assidet insano. "
For a frightful picture of causes and effects, in this particular,
the epigram of Martial to Titullus beginning,
" .Rape, congere, aufer, etc."
might be quoted. But, it is time to conclude a digression, on
which perhaps I have somewhat prematurely entered.
We shall then assume that there are motives, as above enu-
merated, derived from the principles of human nature, acting
on all men, and exciting them to expend what they presently
possess in providing for future wants, as there are others,
derived from the same source, tempting them to lay it out in
the gratification of their immediate wants. The strength of
the effective desire of accumulation, in any man or society of
men, or this desire manifested in action, is determined by the
preponderance of the one class of motives, over the other. It
is manifested, and may be measured, by the willingness of the
individual, or individuals, to lay out a certain amount to-day,
in order to produce the double of that amount at a period
more or less remote, that is, at the expiration of one, two, three,
etc. years.
[In this chapter Rae does not make sufficiently clear that it is a certain
particular sort of regard for others the desire " to endow the future "
for them which chiefly supports the accumulative principle. It is to be
noted also that the phrase " social and benevolent affections " has no specific
applicability as a technical term in this connection. This very form of words
has been employed by one writer on economics to denote those traits of
character which lead one to spend all in the present, entertaining one's
friends, and the like. The poorest people in any community are as a rule
good hearted and give freely to any one in need. This is one of the chief
things which keep them poor. Individual selfishness enlightened by the
reason plays a larger rOle in economic life than Rae gives it credit for. But
his interest here being sociological rather than individualistic, he could
hardly distribute his emphasis otherwise.]
CHAPTER VII.
OF SOME OF THE PHENOMENA ARISING FROM THE DIF-
FERENT DEGREES OF STRENGTH OF THE EFFECTIVE
DESIRE OF ACCUMULATION IN DIFFERENT SOCIETIES.
THE effective desire of accumulation is of different degrees of
:igth, not only in different societies, as compared with each
other, but also in the several individuals composing the same
society as compared together. Disregarding, however, for the
present, the effects produced on the formation of instruments,
11 (Jin diversities in the strength of this principle among individ-
uals in the same society, we are, in this chapter, to endeavor
to trace solely some of those resulting from the operation of
causes varying its strength in different societies. As has been
already stated, there are three other causes operating in the
formation of instruments ; the quantity and quality of the
materials owned by any particular society ; the progress which
inventive faculty has made in it; and the rate of the
wages paid the laborer. The first of these depending on the
original constitution of the whole globe, and its different
regions, and the correspondence between these and the cor-
poreal system of man, is determined by circumstances, the con-
ration of which would be foreign to the present inquiry.
i regard to our subject it is to be taken as an important
1'ut ultimate fact. The causes on which the progress of tin-
itivo faculty seems chiefly to depend, will form the subject
of a subsequent chapter. At present, the extent of that
progress is to be received simply as a circumstance of ad-
mitted importance.
I
66 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
The rate of the wages of labor, the last of the causes affect-
ing the formation of instruments, though a subject of investiga-
tion in itself highly interesting, and closely connected with
this whole inquiry, is not, as has been already stated, to be
otherwise considered in these investigations, than as an existing
circumstance, the operation of which is also of importance in
the determination of the extent to which the stock of materials,
in possession of any society, will be wrought up by it, but the
laws regulating which lie beyond our prescribed limits. So
considered, a low rate of wages may be esteemed, in its direct
effects, as producing the same results as an improvement in
the quality of the materials operated on, or an extension of
the power to operate on them, through an advance in the pro-
gress of invention. All these cause the same returns to be
produced from a less expenditure, or greater returns from the
same expenditure. They all, therefore, place a greater range
of materials within compass of the accumulative principle, and
occasion the construction of a larger amount of instruments.
The advance of invention, however, differs from a lowering in
the rate of wages, in being a quantity to the increase of which
we can set no bounds, whereas, we soon arrive at a limit to
the possible diminution of the rate of wages. In the principles
on which they depend, and in their ulterior consequences they
differ, I believe it will be found, still more widely.
The first example I shall take, of the effect of circum-
stances in moulding the characters of communities, and of
these again, in determining the extent to which they carry
the formation of instruments, will be that of the American
Indian.
The life of the hunter seems unfavorable to the perfect
developement of the accumulative principle. In this state
man may be said to be necessarily improvident, and regardless
of futurity, because in it, the future presents nothing, which
can be with certainty either foreseen, or governed. The
hunting grounds are the sources from which, among hunters,
the means of subsistence are drawn. But these belong to the
nation or the tribe, which alone therefore, can make more
abundant provision for futurity by securing to itself a domain
more extensive, or better supplied with wild animals ; or meet
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 67
poverty, by being restricted to one more narrow, or barren.
As regards his future means of living, every member of such
a community thinks of nothing but whether the supply of
game will be plentiful or scanty ; in the one case, he knows
that he will enjoy abundance, in the other that he must endure
want. In such societies therefore, the view can never be
directed to any distant future good, which present exertion
may secure to the individual, but is confined to what, by that
exertion may be added to the power, or the territory of the
tribe. What applies to the individual hunter, applies to his
family. Their comfort depends less on his particular exer-
tions, than on circumstances affecting the whole band, or little
nation, to which he belongs. It is only in infancy that the
wants of the young savage are, to any great extent, provided
fur by his parents. Afterwards he feasts, or fasts, like every
other member of the community, as abundance, or scarcity
reigns in the camp. That camp, indeed, may be said to form
the family of the Indian. His whole thoughts, and affections
centre there, nor has he any cares for a distant futurity, either
for himself, or his offspring, separated from the common suffer-
ings or enjoyments of his tribe.
Were the causes determining the future good or evil flow-
ing to each of these great families, to be within reach of the
energies of the individuals composing them, they would have a
steady aim for their exertions, and having the means, might
acquire the habit of purchasing future plenty and security, by
present toil and privation, and of tracing out with certainty,
remote consequences to immediate acts. But this is a mode
f thought and action, to which the circumstances of their con-
dition are opposed. As the utmost prudence, foresight and
fortitude, can but little affect the future welfare of the
individual, so, their power to promote the prosperity of tin*
society, is limited and precarious. 1
a tribe of hunters occupy a healthy territory, and one
jilt-ntifully supplied with game, they are pressed on by others,
ic foregoing should be compared with Rao's position on inli\ -Dualism,
ily aggrandizement," and " social and benevolent affections," in the pre-
ceding chapter.]
68 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
eager to seize on these advantages, and so are continually
engaged in destructive wars. While the individuals compos-
ing such a tribe can slaughter their foes, that is, the surround-
ing tribes, or can drive them to a distance, they want for
nothing. The defeat of their own tribe, is the only calamity
they have to dread. This calamity is every now and then
overtaking them.
War is always a game of hazard. In such a state of society
it is peculiarly hazardous. There the art of war is surprise.
The scanty population which the chase can alone maintain, is
divided into small bands, living widely apart mere points in
a vast continuity of wilderness. In such situations warfare
can never be open. The attacking party must advance with
secrecy ; were they to make their approach known, their
enemies would only wait for them, if convinced of their own
superiority ; otherwise, they would retire, and, if acting
prudently and skilfully, never suffer themselves to be seen,
unless to strike their foes, themselves being safe, in some well-
'Conducted ambush. But where success depends upon conceal-
ment, and surprise, it also depends on chance. No precautions
can succeed in always guarding a small band, encamped in the
midst of a great forest, from being unexpectedly assailed. No
precautions can prevent the track of a party advancing
through an enemy's country, from being occasionally dis-
covered. Victory, or defeat, and all that follow them, depend
on the slightest accident. Fortune is a goddess, on whose
influence the schemes of the most skilful and greatest captains
.are always in some measure dependent, but here she reigns
supreme.
The effects of these circumstances are increased by the
character of the laws of war of the savage. His wars are wars
of extermination. They cannot well be otherwise. Were he
pressed to defend what he thinks requires no defence, but is
prepared alike to execute on others or suffer himself, he might
,so do from the necessity of the case, the plea which man
always urges for every evil he inflicts on his fellows. He can
neither safely let his enemies go, nor possibly retain them
captive. In the former case they would be as much to be
dreaded as ever, for in the woods half a dozen men may make
IN ACCUMULATIVE STREN 7 GTH 69
war upon a nation, as wars are there conducted. That is,
they may waylay, surprise, and slaughter detached parts.
Nor can he retain captives, for they would both be use-
less, and also must escape. A plunge into the surrounding
forest sets them free. Hence it is not conquest, as with other
warriors, but destruction, that is his aim, and what he executes
on others, when he has the power, he sees continually im-
pending over him, from them, when fortune gives them the
power.
Thus the whole existence of the hunter is chequered by
quick changing extremes. Abundance, famine, the fierce joys
of victory, the horrors of surprise and defeat, rapidly succeed
each other, in an order which he can neither pretend to fore-
see, nor direct. Like all men in similar circumstances, he
refers the events, of which his being is the sport, to the con-
tinual and capricious agency of supernatural powers. All the
i:< > M 1 that happens to him, is from their having been propitious
is designs, and from his having rightly interpreted their
omens; all the evil that befalls him, arises, in his conception,
from their hostility, or from his having mistaken, or neglected,
some vision or token they sent him. The warrior turns back,
in the middle of an expedition, if his sleep be disturbed by a
dream betokening evil ; the unsuccessful hunter accuses neither
his unsteady hand, nor imperfect sight, but some magical
influence hanging on his weapon, which only the priest or sor-
r can therefore remove. The direction of all events whose
arrival is distant, seems thus to the hunter of the woods
to lie entirely beyond his control ; and, instead of endeavoring
to make the ease, or abundance of the present, provide for
the evils of the future, he prides himself in enjoying the
good of to-day undisturbed by a single care, and in feeling
ami knowing, that he can bear the ill of tomorrow without a
murmur,
Hence the Indian has a character altogether his own.
n^ himself hurried mi ly the course of events, not direct-
in- it, he thinks as little of refraining from the pleasures that
se may offer him, as of shrinking from the pains to whieh
it may expose him, and indulges, therefore, without restraint,
in the enjoyments of the hour. His intellectual faculties,,
70 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
unaccustomed to deduce remote consequences from immediate
causes, and still less accustomed to adopt as a ground for
action, and to watch carefully, and anxiously, any concatena-
tion of the sort, are feeble ; either in themselves, or from
inaction. His passions, on the contrary, are strong. Un-
accustomed to reflection, the warm and generous feelings of
affection and gratitude, as well as the darker ones of hatred
and revenge, are often formed hastily, and on inadequate
grounds, but while they last they are exceedingly vehement.
His tribe forms the point in which all these feelings centre ; it
is in fact his family, with which all his joys and sorrows are
in common.
An attention to the effects naturally flowing from this
character, will explain many circumstances in the present con-
dition, and past history of these tribes, which are in them-
selves interesting, and which are closely connected with our
subject. Of all those circumstances, none is more remarkable,
than their neglecting, or refusing, to adopt the arts of the new
neighbors, which the discovery by Europeans of the country
they inhabit brought, and has kept in contact with them.
Surrounded as are the scattered wrecks of those once numerous
tribes, by a great people, rapidly converting the soil, and
almost whatever grows on it, or is hid beneath it, into instru-
ments capable of plentifully supplying every variety of future
want, they are yet unable to imitate them. This deficiency
among them of the effective desire of accumulation, the prin-
ciple leading to the formation of instruments, seems to arise
both from a want of motives to exertion, and from a want of
the principles and habits of action which would lead to effec-
tive exertion.
The settlement of their country by the European race, has
in itself, gradually diminished, or entirely destroyed, the
political importance of their tribes, and consequently, the ties
binding together the members of each of these communities,
and leading them to feel, and to act, in common. Nor have
these been replaced by others. Those growing out of the
family relations, in other states of society, the anxious pro-
spective care of the parent, and the exertions, the pleasures,
and the duties thence arising, have not had time to spring
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 71
up. Hence the Indian continues to seek shelter in apathy,
and to regard life and its enjoyments, both for himself and his
children, as did his forefathers, gifts to be made the most
<>t while they last, but which no care can secure, and which,
therefore, it is his business not to provide for the continuance
of, but to learn calmly to resign when called on. He thus
sits, listless, in the midst of the incessant activity and in-
dustry that surround him, incapable of discovering an adequate
cause for the never-ceasing care and toil. The motives that
:e the white man, though possessed of means that would
enable him with his more needy brethren abundantly to enjoy
present, to devote himself, instead, to labors to which no
season brings a respite, in order to bring about events that
may provide for the wants of some remote and uncertain
futurity, are to him incomprehensible. Instead of applauding
the conduct, in his secret soul he censures the mean, timorous,
and, as it seems to him, selfish spirit, which prompts it.
But, besides a want of the motives exciting to provide for
tin* needs of futurity, through means of the abilities of the
present, there is a want of the habits of perception
and action, leading to a constant connexion in the mind of
6 distant points, and of the series of events serving to
unite them. Even therefore, if motives be awakened capable
of producing the exertion necessary to effect this connexion,
e remains the task of training the mind to think, and act,
so as to establish it.
These deficiencies in the motives to exertion, and in the
li.iliits of action of the Indian, serve to account for the
("ndition of the remnants of the tribes scattered over the
North American continent, in situations where they are in
contact with the white man. There is a general similarity
throughout, that will, I believe, render an example taken
i one part of the continent, sufficiently illustrative of the
state of the whole.
Upon the banks of the St. Lawrence, there are several little
Indian villages. They are surrounded, in general, by a good
deal of land from which the wood seems to have been long
: pa ted, and have, besides, attached to them, extensive
tracts of forest. The cleared land is rarely, I may almost
72 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
say never, cultivated, nor are any inroads made in the forest
for such a purpose. The soil is, nevertheless, fertile, and were
it not, manure lies in heaps by their houses. Were every
family to enclose half an acre of ground, till it, and plant in it
potatoes and maize, it would yield a sufficiency to support
them one half the year. They suffer too, every now and then,
extreme want, insomuch that, joined to occasional intemper-
ance, it is rapidly reducing their numbers. This, to us, so
strange apathy proceeds not, in any great degree, from repug-
nance to labor; on the contrary, they apply very diligently to
it, when its reward is immediate. Thus, besides their peculiar
occupations of hunting and fishing, in which they are ever
ready to engage, they are much employed in the navigation of
the St. Lawrence, and may be seen laboring at the oar, or
setting with the pole, in the large boats used for the purpose,
;ind always furnish the greater part of the additional hands,
necessary to conduct rafts through some of the rapids. Nor
is the obstacle aversion to agricultural labor. This is no
doubt a prejudice of theirs ; but mere prejudices always yield,
principles of action cannot be created. Where the returns
from agricultural labor are speedy, and great, they are also
agriculturists. Thus, some of the little islands on lake St.
Francis, near the Indian village of St. Eegis, are favorable
to the growth of maize, a plant yielding a return of a hundred
fold, and forming, even when half ripe, a pleasant and sub-
stantial repast. Patches of the best land on these islands are,
therefore, every year, cultivated by them, for this purpose.
As their situation renders them inaccessible to cattle, no fence
is required ; were this additional outlay necessary, I suspect
they would be neglected, like the commons adjoining their
village. These had apparently, at one time, been under crop.
The cattle of the neighboring settlers would now, however,
destroy any crop, not securely fenced, and this additional
necessary outlay, consequently bars their culture. It removes
them to an order of instruments of slower return, than that
which corresponds to the strength of the effective desire of
accumulation, in this little society.
It is here deserving of notice, that what instruments of this
sort they do form, are completely formed. The small spots of
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 73
corn they cultivate are thoroughly weeded and hoed. A little
neglect in this part would, indeed, reduce the crop very much :
of this experience has made them perfectly aware, and they
act accordingly. It is evidently not the necessary labor, that
is the obstacle to much more extended culture, but the distant
return from that labor. I am assured, indeed, that, among
some of the more remote tribes, the labor thus expended, much
exceeds that given by the whites. The same portions of
ground being cropped without remission, and manure not being
used, they would scarce yield any return, were not the soil
most carefully broken and pulverized, both with the hoe and
the hand. In such a situation, a white man would clear a
b piece of ground. It would perhaps scarce repay his labor
the first year, and he would have to look for his reward in
succeeding years. On the Indian again, succeeding years are
too distant to make sufficient impression, though, to obtain
what labor may bring about in the course of a few months, he
toils even more assiduously than the white man. The wages
of labor with him, are lower than with the white man, for his
wants are fewer. But for this, the range of materials, coming
within reach of his effective desire of accumulation, would be
i more limited than it is, and the amount of instruments
formed by him, less.
Similar observations will apply to all the remnants of the
race, scattered through the parts of the North American
unit, to which the industry and enterprise of the white
man, have brought modern arts and civilization. They can no
win -re be said to form an agricultural people. All the great
tracts of land, reserved for their use, throughout the continent,
retain their native forest character ; and it is only at great
intervals, where spots of soil appear offering peculiar facilities
M!I i vat ion, that the riches of the earth are even partially
_rht into action. When such materials are neglected, it is
to be supposed that others, requiring greater strength
of t he accumulative principle to form them into instruments,
will l)e put to use. None, therefore, even of tin- most < < minimi
handicrafts, which they see the white man continually exercis-
ing, are to he found am<>i 1L r them. The axe and the knife, aiv
almost their only tools. Their houses, their furniture, their
74 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
clothing and utensils are all similar, and of a sort to serve only
the needs of the moment. Nothing is either reserved or pro-
vided for a futurity in any ways distant. Their stock of
instruments being thus confined to such as are of the most
quickly returning orders, a vast mass of materials is neglected,
which by another race, governed by other principles of action,
are converted, or converting, into the means of abundantly
supplying the necessities and enjoyments of a numerous popu-
lation. They thus afford a striking instance, of the effects
resulting from a great deficiency of strength in the accumula-
tive principle. They have skill, adequate to the formation
of instruments capable of ministering to the necessities and
comforts of a numerous population, for with the powers of fire,
the axe, and the hoe, the great agents in converting the forest
to the field, they are well acquainted ; they have industry,
content with a very moderate, if immediate reward ; yet, from
inadequate strength in this principle, these all lie inert, and
useless, in the midst of the greatest abundance of materials ;
and, the means for existence in the time to come not being
provided, as what was future becomes present, want and misery
arrive with it, and these tribes are disappearing before them.
The white man robs their woods and waters of the stores with
which nature had replenished them, and the arts, by the com-
munication of which he would compensate for the spoliation,
are despised.
Though the civilized man may be truly said to have been
the greatest enemy of the Indian, yet he has not always been
so wilfully, and, in many instances, he has endeavored to
be his benefactor. But, though his endeavors may occasion-
ally, for a time, have arrested the progress of the evil, they
have never altogether removed it, or been of permanent ad-
vantage. Of all attempts of the kind, that of the Jesuits, in
Paraguay, seems to have been productive of most good, and to
have given the fairest promise of ultimate success. This
partial success is evidently to be traced, to the usual talent of
those fathers, in clearly perceiving the actual circumstances of
the condition, and disposition of the men with whom they had
to deal, and to their usual ability in converting these circum-
stances into means of accomplishing the ends they had in view.
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 75
Their plan presents two great features. They wrought upon
the Indians through that which was alone in them capable of
exciting to extended action, their love of their several nations,
and devotion to their interests. They took every means to
show them that they could, and would, promote these interests ;
and thus identifying themselves with the national existence
and prosperity, transferred to their order a large portion of
the strong feelings arising from benefits received from, and
obligations and duties owing to his tribe, which are the great
movers, and rulers, of the being of the Indian.
The efforts of the missionaries seem first to have been
directed to convince the chiefs, and leaders, of the several
tribes to which they penetrated, of the sincerity of their desire
to be of service to them. As the messengers of a religion,
promising peace on earth, and immortal happiness after death,
they had claims on their attention which are foreign to our
subject. Besides these however, as the possessors of the arts
and powers of civilization, they had others, which were more
palpable to the comprehension of the savage. Europeans were
known by this unfortunate race, as possessors of powers so
great, as to appear supernatural ; but they had hitherto been
known only as enemies and oppressors, the bearers of unspeak-
able calamities or utter ruin. Once then they were convinced,
that the white men who now came to them, were really
His, and were desirous of exerting those powers for their
'rvation and happiness, which had hitherto been employed
their destruction, they were ready to welcome them as
r best benefactors, and most powerful protectors. The
1 intelligence, prudence, and fortitude of the fathers did
not desert them on this occasion, and, though not without the
expense of the martyrdom of several of the order, they suc-
ceeded in impressing the Indians with the belief, that they
were really their friends. The rest of the task was compara-
ly easy. Convinced on this head, the savages willingly,
and immediately, became docile disciples. Fully satisfied of
advantages which European arts give to a people, they set
i selves with zeal to acquire and practise them, for the
benefit of their several tribes. Though not for his individual
advantage, or that of his family, would the Indian sacrifice
76 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
present pleasure or embrace present toil ; for the good of his
nation he had been taught, and was ready, to bear or forbear
any thing. The Jesuits had, therefore, only to teach what it
was necessary to do, or endure. The details they have left us
of their progress, are generally interesting, sometimes amusing,
not unfrequently, to those unacquainted with the peculiarities
of the Indian character, almost incredible.
They themselves, in the first instance, taught their proselytes
how agricultural operations were to be performed, by taking
the spade, and other instruments, in their own hands. Hut,
when thus, by precept and example, they had brought them to
be able to execute the several operations of ploughing, sowing,
reaping, etc., the difficulty was but half over. Without the
constant superin tendency and vigilance of their instructors,
they never would have practised them. Thus, at first, if these
gave up to them the care of the oxen with which they
ploughed, their indolent thoughtlessness would probably leave
them at evening still yoked to the implement. Worse than
this, instances occurred where they cut them up for supper,
thinking, when reprehended, that they sufficiently excused
themselves by saying, they were hungry.
By the indefatigable perseverance, and dexterous manage-
ment of the missionaries, they were, however, at last, brought
so to labor the earth, as, in that fertile soil and warm climate,
to produce abundant returns. They were also at peace with
one another, and feared by their enemies. The tranquillity,
the security, and the plenty, they thus enjoyed, gave the
Jesuits additional claims on their confidence and gratitude,
which the good fathers seem to have taken care should be
made sufficiently apparent to them. Hence it was, as Charle-
voix tells us, that they thought they could never sufficiently
testify their affection and gratitude for those, who had rescued
them from barbarism and idolatry, and who, in spite of the
most severe persecution, and the greatest toil, had procured
them all the advantages they enjoyed. They continually
recalled to mind the miserable state from which they had been
brought : the parents instructed their children, and they saw
with their own eyes, the condition of the neighboring nations,
who had not participated in their happiness. It was by no
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 77
means wonderful, as he continues, that these things produced
an attachment for the missionaries, that was without bounds.
The additional authority and influence thus acquired, they
employed in enforcing stricter obedience, and increased in-
dustry, and gradually leading on their disciples to the practice
of the finer and more difficult arts. In this they perfectly
succeeded, so that there were every where to be seen, says the
same author, workshops of gilders, painters, sculptors, gold-
smiths, watchmakers, carpenters, joiners, dyers, etc. In the
exercise of these useful and ornamental arts, we must not
<>se the artists were animated by the motives that excite
similar labors elsewhere. They seem scarcely to have had an
idea of personal property, or individual gain, but to have been
as mere children, looking up to the Jesuits for every thing,
and ready to do every thing for them, or submit to any thing
I'rmii them.
" These fathers," says Ulloa, " have to visit the houses, to
examine what is really wanted ; for, without this care, the
Indians would never look after any thing. They must be
present too, when animals are slaughtered, not only that the
meat may be equally divided, but that nothing may be lost."
"It has been necessary," says Charlevoix, "to appoint superin-
ii'nts, who inspect every thing accurately, and see if they
>usy, if their cattle are in good condition, etc. The labors
of the women are regulated, as well as those of the men. At
tlif lt^innin<r of the week, there is distributed among them, a
certain quantity of wool, and cotton, which they are obliged to
return, on Saturday evening, ready for the loom. But, not-
withstanding all this care and superintendence, and all the
precautions which are taken to prevent any want of the
necessaries of life, the missionaries are sometimes much em-
barrassed. This proceeds from three defects, of which the
Indians have not yet been corrected, their improvidence,
indolence, 1 and want of economy; so that, it often happens,
lolence and improvidence are, in our system, reduced to one defect.
nee is, the not laying out present labor to secure future abundance.
i'l.-nce, the squandering present abundance, in disregard of future
They both proceed from the predominance of the present over
th< tut in. , the low strength of the effective desire of accumulation.
78 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
that they do not reserve themselves a sufficiency of grain, even
for seed. As for their other provisions, were they not well
looked after, they would soon be without wherewithal to
support life."
The mode of operation, which the Jesuits adopted, had un-
doubtedly the advantage of bringing out all the energies of
the Indian. He was thus induced willingly, and therefore
zealously and successfully, to apply his powers to the acquisi-
tion and practice of European arts, and, while the missionaries
maintained their power, and formed a part of the polity which
their sagacity and perseverance had established, it gave every
token of prosperity and vigor. Their prudence and providence
led into efficient action the desire, which every individual felt
for the future prosperity of his tribe. The powers of the
social and benevolent affections of the mass had free course,
and what was wanting in intellectual energy being supplied by
the fathers, the desire of accumulation of the whole body
became sufficiently effective and strong, to form a larger stock
of instruments. What, therefore, might, at first sight, strike
us as the most difficult part of the project, the establishing a
community of goods and interests, was, in reality, that which
rendered it of easy execution. With all the advantages
attending such a form of society, the freedom from strife,
jealousy, contention, and care, enjoyed by the great majority,
it had also the disadvantage of requiring, and therefore exciting,
in the multitude, little or no exertion of the intellectual facul-
ties. The converts had become, or were becoming, mere
machines in the hands of the missionaries. The whole stock
of instruments formed by the common labor, was in the
possession of the fathers, and the share which the Indians
received of the returns, depended on their pleasure. They
were in fact regarded as beings of a superior order, whose
actions were of necessity right, and whose slightest wishes
were laws.
If we judge from what is known of the state of the
American continent at its discovery, it would seem that
this form of society, is that which the hunter, changing
directly to the agriculturist, naturally assumes. His devotion
to the interests of the tribe, passes there into affection for the
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 79
person, and blind obedience to the will of the chief. The
accounts we have of the condition of the kingdoms that the
Spaniards found established in the most fertile regions of
the continent, describe the power which the rulers pos-
sessed, and the reverence paid them, as excessive. The
people seem to have, in general, approached the condition
of slaves, and to have had a large share of the defects of
that condition, a want of intelligence and energy.
Our own barbarian ancestors, such as they are described by
Tacitus, have been often likened to the savage aborigines of
North America. But, though there may be some points of
resemblance, the parallel will be found to fail, in several
important particulars, which, as they seem to have operated
through the influence they have exerted on that principle, the
effects of which we are at present considering, may be allowed
to claim our attention for a little.
The race, whose occupation of the forests and wildernesses
to the northward of the Roman Empire, made these, in
the days of Rome's strength, to be regarded as the regions of
mystery and wonder, in those of its weakness, of well-founded
and increasing anxiety and dread, were properly shepherd
warriors. Though the excitement of the chase frequently
gave fit employment to their ardent spirits, and its toils to
thrir hardy frames, and though its products ministered to
many of their wants, their cattle were yet their main support,
and to provide for the sustenance of these, their great busi-
ness. But the possession of flocks and herds, implies a
considerable degree of care and foresight, both in protecting
and making provision for them, and in avoiding to consume
too great a number of them. It also implies the existence of
private property to a large amount, and, consequently, of
Uth in the ties binding families together. The parent, if
he desires to see his offspring enjoy plenty, must exert himself
to procure it for them. The performance of this duty gives
claims on their gratitude, and draws closer the connexion
between them. The sort of life they lead too, demands less of
severe exertion, and affords longer intervals of ease. It brings
11 together in larger bands and societies, of which each
member has rights to defend and interests to provide for, and
80 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
thus produces the rudiments of law, justice, and the policy of
civilized society.
War may be said to be natural to them, as well as to
hunters, but it is always open ; concealment is out of the
question ; their greater numbers, and the necessity of having
always with them a large train of domestic animals, render it
impracticable. They have not therefore to fear being sur-
prised and overcome, before they can have time to defend
themselves. Hence, the members of a numerous and warlike
pastoral nation, live in comparative security. They see that
chance has less influence, prudence and resolution more. They
perceive that they are not altogether the sport of destiny, but
that their fate depends, in a great measure, on themselves.
Their minds are less shaken, and their judgments less clouded,
by superstitious fears and imaginings. The greater security
they enjoy renders them also less relentlessly cruel. Utterly
to exterminate their enemies is not necessary ; to break, and
drive them off, is sufficient. When, therefore, the fury of the
fight is over, mercy has, with them, a place.
All these circumstances pertaining to the condition of
pastoral nations tend strongly to excite the social and benevo-
lent affections, and the powers of reason and reflection, and to
give scope to their action among them. The pastoral ancestors
of the present European race were fierce, cruel, and vindictive
barbarians ; yet, spite of these forbidding features of their
character, we can as distinctly trace to them the sources of all
the more generous and softer virtues, that give happiness to
their descendants, as we can the free and independent spirit
that bestows on them liberty and security. Such nations
have, therefore, naturally a much higher effective desire of
accumulation than nations of mere hunters. The strength of
this principle, in fact, seems with them in general, so great, as
to incline them to form instruments requiring a much superior
degree of providence and self-denial, to that indicated by the
breeding of cattle. They are prevented from doing so, by
their wandering life, and by the wars in which they are neces-
sarily constantly engaged. When, for instance, they are settled
in a country suited to agriculture, and to which the knowledge
of the art has penetrated, they have a tendency to become
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 81
agriculturists; that is, to change the land, from which they
draw their subsistence, from an instrument yielding a large
return, in proportion to the labor bestowed on it, to one yield-
i still larger return, though requiring proportionally more
labor and time, and being, therefore, of a more slowly return-
rder.
But such a change, though increasing the whole population
of the state, leaves fewer in it who can be spared from labor,
anil, consequently, fewer soldiers. In pastoral nations, almost
all the men are warriors; in agricultural, only a few can
be withdrawn from the labors of the field. The latter are
therefore, naturally inferior to the former in military prowess,
and are consequently subject to be conquered and destroyed by
thriii. Such seems to have been the fate impending over
Gaul, from the side of Germany, when the appearance of
ir gave another turn to affairs. The Gauls, we learn from
him, though then inferior, had once been superior, in military
AH. to the Germans. It appears likely, that the revolu-
ti"ii had been occasioned, by their becoming an agricultural
people, which they, in a great measure, were, in his time. The
mans, again, preserved themselves from the fatal effects of
i a change, by the singular national custom, or constitution,
that obliged them all, every year, to exchange the lands they
respectively occupied. By this constant transfer of instru-
j i I'M its, and of the materials of which they might be formed,
they took away every inducement to work them up into
orders of slow return, and confined the members of the
nmnity to the pastoral condition, which experience had
tless instructed them, was most favorable to military
In the times of the Caesars, Europe was thus divided, by an
irregular line running east and west, into two great parts, the
one occupied by the barbarians, the other by the Empire. To
northward of this line, were many rude nations, strong in
Mrnial and corporeal energies of the individuals composing
thrni, and in the willingness of each to devote his abilities to
'ts conducive to the good of all, but whose strength was
ly expended in furious intestine wars. These contests,
ive as they were, did not, however, occasion any
F
82 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
progressive diminution of the vigor of the whole body ; it was.
only the surplus powers of the parts that thus ran to waste.
The strength of the people of the empire was, on the contrary,
derived from their union in one great body, and the power
thence resulting of the energies of the whole being directed to
any particular point. But this union, as it had been produced
by compulsion, augured weakness in the several parts, and was
the cause of weakness. What each contributed to the common
good was not of will, but from necessity, and, in the strife thus
arising, every man learned to consider his own good as separate
from that of all others. Hence a continually increasing separa-
tion of interests, and consequent continual decrease of power
and general decline. The gradually increasing weakness of the
empire, while the strength of the nations to the northward, if
not augmenting, remained at least unimpaired, rendered the
arrival of a period when the former should be overpowered by
the latter inevitable. These barbarians believed, that the
riches of the earth belonged, of right, to the best; according
to their creed, the bravest. Their most powerful and warlike
tribes, therefore, possessing themselves of the more fertile
regions, those bordering on the line dividing them from the
empire, pressed violently against it, and, opposed by a force
continually diminishing, at length burst through it.
Three great events, each leading on the other, would seem
to have been the necessary consequence of this revolution. Of
these, the first was the occupation of the whole continent by
the barbarians, and the driving back the still onward-urging
host of their brethren ; the adoption by them of the arts which
had previously nourished in the empire, and their becoming an
agricultural people, was the second ; and their running the
chance of being in turn overpowered by the northern warriors,
the third. Until the arrival of the first period, when, the
continent having been completely overrun and ravaged by the
barbarian multitude, had assumed a form closely approximating
to that of the territories they had formerly occupied, there
could be no approach to rest, but the tide must still advance.
When the receptacle vacant for its reception was once com-
pletely filled, the mighty mass had to recoil on itself. The
battle of Chalons fixes this period. Europe, with the exception
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 83
of the corner occupied by the Eastern Empire, and which
belonged rather to Asia than to it, seems then to have been
reduced nearly to the state of one immense cattle-pasture.
But the impetus that had been given still continued, and new
hosts crowded on to share that, of which the last fragments
had been divided. The reflux then of necessity took place.
The hosts of the west and the south, under Theodoric and
Klius, met those of the east and the north, under Attilla, on
the plains of Champaigne. The vastness of the masses and the
violence of the shock are shown by the destruction produced ;
the accounts of the period rating the slaughter variously at
from one hundred and sixty-two thousand to three hundred
thousand.
From this period the great body neither much advancing
nor receding, was agitated chiefly by fierce internal commotions.
The time when their violence terminated marks the second
period, when the general prevalence of agriculture, lessening
the number of warriors, diminished the extent and frequency
of wars. The knowledge of the elements of it, and of the
other arts, diffused throughout the various multitude that now
peopled the continent, could not forever lie dormant. It has
been already observed, that the strength of their effective
!.- ire of accumulation, had been such as to produce a tendency
among them to give greater capacity even to the materials of
which they had the command in the northern regions, though
at the expense of changing them into instruments of somewhat
slower return, by converting their lands from pasture to tillage,
tendency became inevitably stronger, as they advanced
into more fertile soils and milder climates. The revolution
i took place gradually. The exact date of the pre-
ponderance of the one condition over the other, cannot,
perhaps, be determined but by the effects produced by its
arrival. It is only in the state of hunters, or shepherds, that
nation can literally go to war with nation. In the agricultural
state, it is not the men of the nation, but a small part of them,
the soldiery, that fight. Taking this as the criterion, we might
t he reign of Charlemagne as that, in which war, as the
ness of European nations, properly ceased. The conclusion
of that monarch's reign, has sometimes been reckoned the
84 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
commencement of a period of weakness in the several states,
and of want of ability in their monarchs. The historian, it is
true, for centuries afterwards, finds no events that he esteems
great to record. His art can call up no pictures of heroes
leading armies to the field, conquering, or being conquered,
overthrowing, or establishing kingdoms. Nevertheless, if the
view we are taking is correct, it is from this era that we must
date the commencement of strength, not of weakness. The
people of Europe then began to rise in the scale of industry.
They commenced a new era, to which no one can assign a
positive termination, because it became their occupation to
conquer nature, and not man, and, to the fruits of the one
conquest, we can set no limit, whereas the utmost advantages
of the other are very speedily exhausted.
It may here be observed, that the difference of the strength
of the principle of accumulation in nations of hunters, and in
pastoral nations, seems to mark out a very opposite destiny to
a great country overrun by the one, to that which would await
it from being subdued by the other. The naturally low degree
of strength of the accumulative principle among nations of
hunters, prevents them, as we have seen, from forming instru-
ments of sufficiently slow return to embrace the materials to
which the arts of civilized life might give capacity. While in
their possession, therefore, they lie unemployed, and useless.
The progress of civilization and art over the continent of
North America, is now every day, bringing to light traces of
their former presence, and evidence, consequently, of the exist-
ence there at some remote period, of a people far superior in
these respects to the tribes that occupied all but the southern
parts, when discovered by Europeans. The question has been
asked, how did it happen that they, and the knowledge and
power they possessed, utterly perished. In other instances,
civilization has either protected its possessors, or, if they were
overcome, has reacted on their conquerors, and spreading among
them, has, so to say, subjugated and governed them in turn.
The history of our barbarian ancestors has been quoted, as a
circumstantial account of this seemingly natural progress.
But, if the principles, the operation of which forms our present
subject, be correct, they furnish a sufficient cause for the
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 85
diversity of effects flowing from the two events, and show,
that, instead of there being any reason for surprise at the
hunter of the woods disdaining the labors and rewards of
civilization, it is rather our business to inquire how he could
have been led to adopt them. Had the nations whom
the north poured forth on the south of Europe, been hunters,
and, had no extraneous cause intervened, it is not improbable,
that that continent would, even at the present day, have been
OIK* wide forest from side to side.
The third of the great events referred to, the evils and
dangers arising to the ancestors of the present inhabitants of
Europe, from their former brethren of the north and east,
when the strength of their accumulative principle led them to
put off the barbarian, and employ themselves in giving to the
materials within their reach the capabilities for the supply of
the wants of futurity which art showed that they possessed,
were felt for many centuries. The change they were then
undergoing, though it added very greatly to the total numbers
of the several nations, lessened the numbers of the warriors.
The instruments they formed being of the more slowly return-
ing orders, though the whole income from them was much
greater, the labor necessary to produce it was more than
proportionally greater, and the portion of the population left
free for the purposes of warfare was consequently less. It
were foreign to our purpose farther to allude to this cause of
cm n motion and revolution, than to observe, that the mischiefs
and dangers arising from it, seem to have been moderated by
very gradual manner in which the change took place, and
to have been counteracted, and finally overcome by the
additional power acquired through the progress of invention in
the arts of civilized life.
The next example I shall adduce, of the influence of the
accumulation principle, will be that of the Chinese Empire.
All accounts agree in ascribing to the people of this Empire, a
peculiarity running through the whole structure of their social
and domestic life, by which alone perhaps its mechanism can
be well explained, and which seems to form its great governing
and sustaining principle. Their moralists and legislators
appear to have successfully endeavored to give to the feelings,
86 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
naturally springing from the parental and family relations, an
influence and authority, far superior to what these possess
among other nations, the power and unity of a regular
system of duties and obligations. A father, as the immediate
though secondary cause of existence, is regarded with much of
the feelings that are elsewhere reserved for the infinite and
eternal fountain of all existence, power, and perfection, and,
consequently, claims, as a sacred right, a measure of love,
reverence, and obedience, that to us seems perfectly unnatural.
Both while alive, and after his death, he is reverenced, we
might say adored. His descendants form a little distinct
society bound together by the strongest ties, a system apart
from all others, having a common centre of action of its own.
What is conceived to be a reality in families, is metaphorically
applied to the whole empire, and its several parts. The
emperor is the father of his people, his affection for them as
his children is held to be the animating principle of his actions,
implicit obedience to him as their parent, who can only com-
mand what is good, is the first duty of his subjects. Each
inferior magistrate is also regarded as the father of those over
whom he rules.
The result has been so far happy, that the harshness of
despotism is somewhat tempered by the mildness of the pater-
nal character. We are so constituted, that no part can be
assumed, and habitually acted, without in some degree mould-
ing our nature to its form, and making that a reality, which
may at first have been only a fiction. It has also been happy
in the strength it has given to the connexions and affections of
those belonging to the same family, or springing from the same
stock. A man must be strongly excited to good, and deterred
from evil, by being aware that his actions and fortunes are the
objects of solicitude to every member of the little community to
whom he is bound by the ties of blood and kindredship ; that
they rejoice at whatever he accomplishes that is honorable and
happy ; and are afflicted and disgraced by his imprudencies
and errors.
But, viewing the system on another side we may perceive
that evil has sprung out of it. The blending of the characters
of parent and lord, and thus making of each head of a family
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 87
an absolute master, the judge of right and wrong, places man
in a situation dangerous to his weakness. It may encourage,
at all events it enables him to gratify without fear, whatever
vice or immorality is not necessarily open or declared, but may
have a veil, however thin, of outward decorum thrown over it.
les this, the absolute submission and unreflecting obedience
which it inculcates, are much opposed to the expansion of the
intellectual and moral powers. When all impulses are from
without, it is impossible that the mental eye should turn
steadily on the divinity within, or promptly and resolutely
execute what it dictates.
We perceive a great attempt to organize a society, animated
by the principles of love and affection, regulated by those of
virtue. The form indeed exists, but under it there is little
substance. Hence is generated a mass of apparent contradic-
tions : viewed in one light, we see a great family, wisely and
beneficently governed ; in the other, a servile herd, crouching
beneath the sharp lash of selfish despotism. On the one hand
is presented to us a people, among whom doctrines of a very
pure morality, of universal benevolence, of devotion to the
public good, are inculcated both by reward and precept ;
among whom learning is held in such esteem as to be the sure,
and, in theory at least, almost the only road to honour and
authority ; among whom the freedom of the press may be said
to have been established a thousand years j 1 among whom out-
ward decency and decorum prevail, and security and order are
tly maintained, not by military authority, but by their
own good sense quietly submitting to the rule of the civil
magistrate. On the other hand we see this same people, in
private, abandoned to gross sensuality, to drunkenness and de-
grading licentiousness ; in public, in affairs of trade and traffic,
in the business and diplomacy of the state, making their
individual advantage their sole practical rule of right and
wrong.
i ere the press is merely a brush, and the types are blocks of wood,
which a common workman carves out for a few pence, it must of necessity be
essentially free. The best proof of this is, that books for which there is a de-
mand, licentious publications for instance, are extensively circulated, not
standing all the efforts of the magistrate.
88 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
Such being the character of this singular people, our prin-
ciples would give to them a less strength of the effective desire
of accumulation than the generality of European nations, but a
greater than that of other Asiatics. This desire is lessened by
a propensity to sensual gratifications and selfish feelings, and
by a state of society where there is any thing to endanger the
security of future possession. All these produce a tendency
to seek the enjoyments of to-day, at the risk of leaving the
wants of to-morrow unprovided for. As compared with other
than European nations, however, we might expect them to
possess no inconsiderable portion of the virtues of prudence
and of self-control. The general diffusion of a tincture of
learning, and perception of something of the beauty and
obligations of moral rectitude, the consequent subjection at all
events of the more violent passions, and the great desire to
provide for the wants of their families, which the strength of
the connexion thus subsisting between parent and child en-
genders, raise them, in these respects, much above Asiatics in
general. We should, therefore, a priori, suppose, that the
instruments formed by them must be of orders of quicker
return, and embracing a less compass of materials, than those
constructed by European nations ; but of slower return, and
embracing a greater compass of materials, than those to which
the strength of the accumulative principle carries the other
nations of Asia. All who have written concerning this great
empire agree in the statement, that the necessary cost of sub-
sistence is there small, and the wages of labor low. To these
two circumstances, determining their state, is to be added a
third. The inventive faculty would appear to have been once
very active among them ; their knowledge of the arts suited to
their country is very extended.
Durability is one of the chief qualities, marking a high
degree of the effective strength of accumulation. The testi-
mony of travellers ascribes to the instruments formed by the
Chinese, a durability very inferior to similar instruments, con-
structed by Europeans. The walls of houses, we are told, unless,
of the higher ranks, are in general of unburnt bricks of clay,
or of hurdles plastered with earth ; the roofs, of reeds fastened
to laths. We can scarcely conceive more unsubstantial, or
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 89
temporary fabrics. 1 Their partitions are of paper, requiring
to be renewed every year.
A similar observation may be made, concerning their imple-
ments of husbandry, and other utensils. They are almost
entirely of wood, the metals entering but very sparingly into
their construction ; consequently they soon wear out, and
require frequent renewals. A greater degree of strength in
the effective desire of accumulation, would cause them to be
constructed of materials requiring a greater present expendi-
but being far more durable. From the same cause, much
hind, that in other countries would be cultivated, lies waste.
All travellers take notice of large tracts of land, chiefly
swamps, which continue in a state of nature. To bring a
swamp into tillage is generally a process, to complete which,
requires several years. It must be previously drained, the
surface long exposed to the sun, and many operations per-
:ed, before it can be made capable of bearing a crop.
Tin nigh yielding, probably a very considerable return for the
labor bestowed on it, that return is not made until a long time
has elapsed. The cultivation of such land implies a greater
strength of the effective desire of accumulation than exists in
empire. 2
The produce of the harvest is, as we have remarked, always
an instrument of some order or another, it is a provision for
future want, and regulated by the same laws as those to which
other means of attaining a similar end conform. It is there
fly rice, of which there are two harvests, the one in June,
the other in October. The period then of eight months,
between October and June, is that, for which provision is made
each year, and the different estimate they make of to-day and
this day eight months, will appear in the self-denial they
practise now, in order to guard against want then. The
amount of this self-denial, would seem to be small. The father
Parennin, indeed, asserts, that it is their great deficiency in
forethought and frugality in this respect, which is the cause of
1 La Harp, Vol. VIII. p. 289. Lettre* edtfanUi, Vol. X. p. 107.
imt..ii, China, Vol. II. p. -_MJ. Kllia, Embassy to China, pp. 268 and
316. The best proof perhaps is in the premiums offered for their cultivation.
$** Lettrt* tdifianttx, Vol. XI p. 026.
90 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
> and famines that frequently occur. " I believe,"
he says, " that, notwithstanding its great number of inhabitants,
china would furnish enough of grain for all, but that there is
not sufficient economy observed in its consumption, and that
tht-y employ an astonishing quantity of it in the manufacture of
the wine of the country, and of raque." As confirmative of
his observations, he remarks the number of fires occasioned by
the habit of drinking to excess before going to bed, and the
prevalence, among the lower orders, of a malady called ye-che,
produced by the same vice. 1
A document given in the Jesuit's Letters, a translation from
the Gazette of the empire in 1725, probably shows nearly
what order instruments of this sort, and therefore of all sorts,
really belong to : that is, the difference between a quantity of
rice, or of any thing else, in possession at the end of harvest,
and a quantity to be had in spring. It proceeds on the sup-
position that three bushels at the former period are equivalent,
and, in ordinary years, when there is neither famine nor
scarcity, will produce four at the latter. By purchasing at the
former period, and selling at the latter, the writer therefore
estimates, that thirty bushels will, at the end of five years,
produce more than one hundred. The estimate is perhaps a
little high, but from the nature of it, of the individual from
whom it comes, and those to whom it is addressed, it is
unreasonable to suppose that it is much too high. Taken in
conjunction with a description of a scheme for raising funds, of
which an account is subjoined, 2 it indicates that instruments in
China are about the order D.
The deficiency of the strength of the effective desire of
accumulation, is balanced by the smallness of the necessary
cost of subsistence, and wages of labor, and by the great pro-
1 Leltres edifiantes, Tom. XII. p. 199. The father Parennin seems to have
been one of the most intelligent of the Jesuits, and had the very best oppor-
tunities for observation, having spent a long life among the Chinese of all
classes. His testimony is much more to be depended on, concerning such a
fact, than that of passing travellers, whose cursory observations extend only
to what may be seen on the exterior of the habitations.
2 [Here Rae refers to a long "note" appended to the original work, which
is reproduced as " Note F " in the Appendix to this volume.]
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 91
gress which has been made in the knowledge of the arts suited
to the nature of the country and the wants of its inhabitants.
Where the returns are quick, where the instruments formed
n-quire but little time to bring the events for which they are
formed to an issue, even the defective principle of accumulation
of the Chinese is able to grasp a very large compass of
materials.
The warmth of the climate, the natural fertility of the
country, the knowledge which the inhabitants have acquired
of the arts of agriculture, and the discovery and gradual adap-
tation to every soil of a variety of the most useful vegetable
productions, enable them very speedily to draw from almost
any part of the surface, what is there esteemed an equivalent
t<> much more than the labor bestowed in tilling and cropping
it. They have commonly double, sometimes, treble harvests.
These, when they consist of a grain so productive as rice, the
usual crop, can scarce fail to yield to their skill, from almost
any portion of soil that can be at once brought into
culture, very ample returns. Accordingly there is no spot
that labor can immediately bring under cultivation, that is
not made to yield to it. Hills, even mountains, are ascended
and formed into terraces; and water, in that country the great
1 ^inductive agent, is led to every part by drains, or carried up
to it by the ingenious and simple hydraulic machines, which
have been in use from time immemorial among this singular
people. They effect this the more easily from the soil, even
in these situations, being very deep and covered with much
table mould. But what yet more than this marks the
readiness with which labor is found to form the most difficult
materials into instruments, where these instruments soon bring
to an issue the events for which they are formed, is the
lent occurrence on many of their lakes and waters of
structures resembling the floating gardens of the Peruvians,
rafts covered with vegetable soil and cultivated. Labor in
way draws from the materials on which it acts very
speedy returns. Nothing can exceed the luxuriance of vegeta-
when the quickening powers of a genial sun are minis-
1 to by a rich soil, and abundant moisture. It is otherwise,
as we have seen, in cases where the return, though copious, is
92 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
distant. European travellers are surprised at meeting these
little floating farms, by the side of swamps which only require
draining to render them tillable. It seems to them strange
that labor should not rather be bestowed on the solid earth,
where its fruits might endure, than on structures that must
decay and perish in a few years. The people they are aiium^
think not so much of future years as of the present time. The
effective desire of accumulation is of very different strength in
the one, from what it is in the other. The views of the Euro-
pean extend to a distant futurity, and he is surprised at the
Chinese, condemned, through improvidence and want of suffi-
cient prospective care, to incessant toil, and, as he thinks,
insufferable wretchedness. The views of the Chinese are con-
fined to narrower bounds, he is content, as we say, to live
from day to day, and has learnt to conceive even a life of toil
a blessing. The power which the singular skill and dexterity
of this people, notwithstanding their deficiency in the strength
of that principle that forms the subject of this chapter, givtv-
them, to work up into instruments supplying a larger circle of
wants, many materials that would otherwise lie dormant,
is seen in various instances besides those referred to. It may
be sufficient to mention the manufacture of silk, and the culti-
vation and manufacture of tea. They are both instances of
the power of the inventive faculty to form instruments, soon
bringing to an issue events, that repay, according to the rate
at which labor is there repaid, considerably more than the
cost of their formation.
However we explain it, it will I think be admitted as a
fact, that Europeans in general far exceed Asiatics, both in
vigor of intellect and in strength of moral feeling. The
average duration of human life is also with them more
extended, and property more secure. These circumstances
give much superior power to the accumulative principle in the
one continent, to what it has in the other, and occasion the
instruments constructed in each to be of very different orders,
and to form a strong contrast when compared together. The
attention of an European, when he visits Asia, is arrested
by the slightness and want of strength, solidity, finish, and
consequently durability, of every instrument he sees. Were an
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 93
tic city deserted, the place where it stands would, in half a
century be scarcely discernible. The instruments constructed
being of the more quickly returning orders, all materials which
iv<juire much labor, and bring in only distant returns, are
>cted. Mud takes the place of stone, wood of iron. In
Europe, on the other hand, in proportion as the minds of the
people are reflective and intelligent, and their habits moral, we
find that the interests of futurity operate on them so largely
as to occasion a great capacity to be given to materials, on
which, in Asia, a very small capacity would be bestowed,
vhich would there be altogether neglected. The most
stubborn morasses are drained, and converted into arable
s ; roads, canals, bridges, fences, dwelling-houses, f urni-
ture, tools, utensils, in short all instruments whatever, indicate
that the formers of them have regard to a distant futurity, and
are willing to give up for its interests a large portion of the
means of present enjoyment.
It is to be observed, however, that in Europe invention has
in general made much greater progress than in Asia. Perhaps
in their knowledge of agriculture and horticulture the Chinese
tl most European nations, but in other arts they are
inferior, and, with the exception of them, no Asiatics,
in the knowledge of these or of other arts, can compete
with Europeans. On the other hand, the wages of labor
in Europe, are far higher than in Asia. This circumstance,
;<! \ailing the other, would probably, in many cases,
l-rin-j; the durability and efficiency of the instruments con-
ted in both continents nearly to an equality, were it not
for the existing difference in the strength of the accumulative
principle.
The examples we have hitherto considered have been of
societies, where the principle of accumulation has been either
advancing, or, at least, not sensibly retrograding. It may
be well to turn our attention to the effects produced by
a sensible decrease in its strength. The history of the
l-r lining ages of the Roman empire furnishes us with such
an one.
Rome may be said to have carried with her, from her
est germs, the elements of decay. Her power was entirely
94 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
that of force, a principle suppressing and subduing every
thiii;.:, generating nothing; like flame spreading far and wide,
investing whatever it catches with momentary splendor, but,
like it, destroying that which feeds it, and going out at length
leaving desolation behind it. The proper trade of the Romans
was war. But when in agricultural countries war becomes the
occupation of a community, and conquest the means by which
it seeks to acquire wealth and greatness, evils arise which time.
instead of mitigating, increases. When hunters go to war with
hunters, or herdsmen with herdsmen, the object in view,
besides overcoming their enemies, is to obtain possession of
a portion of the surface of the earth, and the animals wild, or
tame, nourished by it. Over such communities therefore,
though war, passing like a destroying tempest, leaves ruin
behind, yet time obliterates all traces of the devastation pro-
duced by it, and the same territory sees a new generation arise
from the victors or vanquished, as free, happy, and prosperous,
as their forefathers. But in states of society where the riches
of the earth are not brought out by the wild or tame animals
which its surface nourishes, but by the husbandman who tills
it, there conquest can never be a permanent gain, unless
through some permanent right acquired by it over the inhabi-
tants of the territory subdued. Hence the fact of war being
successfully pursued as a gainful trade by any community,
seems to imply, that the conquered submit to slavery, either
personal or political, probably partly to both. Gain was ah
the ultimate object aimed at by the Romans. It was not to
chastise an insult, or to protect their citizens in the undis-
turbed prosecution of industry, that they fought or conquered.
These might occasionally serve for pretexts, and were some-
times perhaps the exciting causes of war, but for the real
fruits of victory they always looked to the spoliation of
the vanquished, and tribute, in one shape or other, imposed
on them. Every people with whom they came in contact
was regarded by them first as an enemy to be subdued, after-
wards as a province from which they were to be enriched.
They were in truth a band of well disciplined robbers, whose
virtue, law, religion, centered in their swords ; courageous
indeed, and keeping to their positive engagements with a
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 95
fidelity common to brave men (and which, as it is for their
interest, even scattered banditti observe), but whose course
of rapine was still onward, relentless, merciless, unchecked
l.y thoughts of the corporeal pains, or mental debasement
it produced.
Such an empire could only have been formed by overpower-
ing the finer and more generous and elevating feelings, and
could not be maintained without having the effect of giving the
preponderance to the debasing, selfish, and therefore destructive
principles of our nature. It left but one great virtue, that of
patriotism, with the Romans a sort of enlarged esprit de corps,
one great moral quality, that of courage, or the meeting
danger undauntedly when the interest of the individual or the
state required it, a principle of action, it may be remarked,
di tiering considerably from the more generous and self -devoting
gallantry of the modern. These were strong in Italy while
Italy was the governing power; but even they gradually dis-
appeared as the provinces were amalgamated with it, and
Italians ceased to be the conquering soldiery.
It were needless to enlarge on a subject so well known
as that of the general corruption of Roman manners, from the
of the first Caesar. Venality and licentiousness may be
said to have been universal. I shall confine myself to one
particular, as marking sufficiently the declension of those prin-
s on which the strength of the effective desire of accumu-
lation mainly depends. I allude to the decay of the family
tions, of which evidence everywhere meets us. The men
di I not wish to be fathers, scarcely did the women wish to be
mothers. The joys of the relation were to them too small, to
be a compensation for the sacrifices it demanded. The bring-
ip of children cost the one parent too much money, and
took from the other too much pleasure. If families were
1 up, it was not from the natural influence of the parental
affections, but in obedience to the laws, that the man might
have the approbation of the magistrate, and that there might
be citizens to the state. They lived, not in others, or for
ul for themselves, and sought their good in enj".v-
ments altogether selfish. It was their aim to expend on their
HTSMiuil pleasures whatever they possibly could. It would
96 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
seem as if the majority, could they have foreknown the exact
limits of their lives, would have made their fortunes and them
terminate together. As they could not do so, the fortunes of
many ended before their lives, as the fortunes of others held
out beyond their lives. To reap, however, themselves, while
alive, all possible benefit from what they might chance to
leave others to enjoy after their death, they encouraged some
of the members of a despicable class who seem to have consti-
tuted no inconsiderable part of Koman society. Parasites
ready to minister to every pleasure, and to perform every
possible service, waited on the man of wealth, in the hope and
expectation of enjoying a portion of it after his death. They
were more desirable than children, both because they were
able to give something more than mere unsubstantial affection
and esteem, and because they were willing to give it, while a
son or daughter might imagine they had claims to receive
what they could not be said to have labored for. The poets
and satirists of the Augustine age, and of subsequent times,
give sufficient evidence of the existence of a state, evil in
itself, and the forerunner of many evils. 1 It gave occasion to
the law compelling parents to leave their children a certain
part, a fourth, of their property. Its prevalence may be
judged of by the wording of the enactments increasing the
children's share. It is stated, as a fact well known, that
parents generally either disinherit, or omit their children in
their wills, leaving the bulk of their property to distant rela-
tions, to strangers, or to slaves, to whom they give freedom ;
1 Horace, V. Satire, II. Book. It is worth while observing, that, according
to this satire, to cheat these parasites into the service, by holding out a
reward they were never to get, was reckoned a thing to be laughed at.
Probably the practice existed from a very early age, though I cannot give
authority for it. Parasites are in Plautus' Plays, but these are in a great
measure translations. The following quotation from that author, however,
expresses a feeling, which I should suppose prevailed in Roman society at the
time :
" Quando habeo multos cognates, quid opus mihi sit liberis.
Nunc bene vivo et fortunate, atque animo ut lubet,
Mea bona mea morte cognatis dicam interpartiant,
Illi apud me edunt, me curant, visunt quid agam, ecquid velim,
Qui mihi mittunt munera, ad prandium, ad csenam vocant."
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 97
that thus, if their family is numerous, they, who during
lifetime of their father enjoyed affluence, find that his
death leaves them in poverty. 1
Nothing, surely, can more clearly show the extreme and
fling selfishness of the time, than its becoming neces-
for the magistrate to compel the citizens to marry, and
to compel them to leave portions to their children,
existence of such a state of things implied a degree of
isnlatinn of feeling and action, so great, as necessarily to
produce general weakness and decay. The general selfish-
ness of the principles guiding the conduct of individuals,
be gathered from a prevailing proverb, " when I die let
the world burn." 2 When such were the maxims ruling
society, there could not fail to be a heedless sacrifice of the
interests of futurity, an exhaustion of the means or instru-
ct s which the forethought of previous generations had
employed industry to accumulate, without any correspond-
reformation of them. Sallust, in a fragment quoted by
Montesquieu, well describes the men of his day as a race
who could neither themselves hold property, nor allow
rs to retain it. 3 Only such instruments could con-
cntly be formed as were of very quickly returning
orders, and, as the vigor of the accumulative principle
decayed, the members of each succeeding generation saw a
mass of materials fall from their grasp, which had afforded
1 Quia plerumque parentes sine causa liberos suas exheredunt vel omittunt.
Lib. II. Tit. 28. Capiunt quidem cognati omnia, et extranei, vel cum
Ue servi ; filii vero licet multi consistent ; etiamsi nihil offenderint
parentes, confunduntur, etc. Novel. XVIII. Pref.
''EjtoG davbvTot yata ntxOjrw vvpl. Suet. A similar proverb "apres nous
luge," is said to have been often in the mouth of Madame Pompa-
one of the purest self -worshippers ever existing. It is perhaps
worthy of remark, as showing the propensity of selfishness to grasp the
present, that both the Romans and the lady were very prodigals even
iiat was entirely their own. The former it is well known rapidly
exhausted their constitutions by every sort of debauchery and excess,
itter was as little economical of her personal charms. At twenty
her lips are said to have been livid from the too constant application
r teeth to make them pout, at thirty she was haggard.
lorito dicatur genitos esse, qui nee ipsi babere possent res familiaree,
me all..'- p;iti."
Q
98 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
a plentiful supply to the wants of their more provident
forefathers. 1
The means of supporting human life diminished, and the
milliters of mankind diminished with them. When vice
itself did not sufficiently check the growth of the elements
of life, it brought want and famine to its assistance. The
history of the Eoman world under the Caesars, is a melan-
choly detail of the gradually decaying funds of the Empire,
and the gradually decreasing numbers of its inhabitants.
Italy, according to Pliny, and other writers, was in the old
times crowded with people, thickly set with cities, and rich
in all things ministering to the needs of its inhabitants. In
his day, its diminished population depended for their sus-
tenance on the productions of other territories. The change
certainly was not owing to any alteration in the materials.
" Noii fatigata aut effbeta humus," says Columella. The
earth would have yielded the same returns, had they who
possessed it been willing to expend what was necessary to
give it the capacity of yielding them. As the materials
were only wrought up to very quickly returning orders,
they had necessarily a much smaller capacity, and the
annual returns made by them were of consequence much
less. Pasture took place of tillage; corn was brought from
the provinces ; and when the supply failed famine ensued.
Even the construction of ships for the transport of this,
and other merchandise, would seem to have been an effort
to which the accumulative principle was scarcely equal.
It was found necessary to encourage it by rewarding those
1 [Several writers have ascribed the fall of Rome on its economic side, to
the draining away of money to the East in payment for imported luxuries.
This was not a separate and distinct cause of decline, but rather one of its con-
comitants. It is but one of the phases of the general and fundamental cause
which Rae sets forth. The stock of metallic money of a community is a
social instrument, the " instrument of association," as Henry C. Carey
aptly called it, and it is secured in the first place and kept up after-
wards in the same manner essentially as other instruments by industry
and the exercise of the accumulative principle. The present-day arguments
as to the comparative unimportance of more or less money, do not apply to an
age when extensive areas were lapsing from a money economy to a state of
barter.]
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 99
who prosecuted that branch of industry. 1 Sometimes land
formerly cultivated was allowed to lie entirely waste, and
passed altogether out of the class of instruments. The forest
and wilderness gained on the Romans, as they would now, for
similar reasons, on an Indian population, were some of these
t lilies put in possession of the domains, anciently the property
of their race, at present yielding abundantly to the provident
industry of the whites. Had there been no irruption of the
ltarlarians, the Empire must have perished, more slowly per-
haps, but as certainly, from the operation alone of these
internal causes of decay. They were occasioning a progressive
diminution of the capacity which materials formerly possessed.
Tli us, it is to the Romans themselves as much as to the bar-
ms, that the destruction of the public edifices is to be
ascribed. The stones were applied to private purposes. With
i hf capacity for yielding a return, there necessarily perished
the return yielded, and the power, consequently, of maintain-
the same number of men, and contributing an equal
amount to the wants of the state. Hence the population of
Kmpire, and the imperial revenue, diminished from age
to age.
The diminution would have l>een much more rapid but for
some counteracting causes. Rome, while she conquered and
enslaved, gave peace, and peace enabled the arts to pass from
:try to country, and often, under her protection, carried
i to regions before barbarous. Again, she herself, as she
gradually proceeded to enslave the rest of the world, and
role it in her empire, received into her li<>s<>m those
who had been free, or were the immediate descendants of
:uen, and retained something of their virtues. The un-
governable licentiousness, extravagance, and proneness to evil
he Italians, were tempered by the greater and
frugality of the new men of many of the distant provinces,
'Nam et negotiatoribus certa lucra proposuit, suscepto in se damno si
ii'l per teropestatefl accidisset ; et naves mercaturae causa fabricanti-
bus magna commoda const! tuit pro conditione cuj usque : civibus vacationetn
legis Pappere : Latinia jus Quiritum : fa-minis jus quatuor liberorum ; qua
conatituta hodie servantur.
Suet, in vita Claudii. MX
100 INTERNATIONAL DIFFERENCES
who flocked in to recruit the diminishing numbers of her
citizens. 1
These two circumstances, however, only retarded, they could
not resist, the advancing degeneracy, poverty, and weakness,
that were gradually sapping the foundations of the Empire,
and exposing it to be overturned by external violence, or
to fall to ruin by its own weight. While some of her
provinces gave strength to Rome, she corrupted them ; i I
she gave them her arts, she gave them also her manners.
Like liquor, already begun to turn, mixed with what is
yet fresh, the defects of the compound were not at first per-
ceptible; by and by, the adulteration diffused through it
wrought on the whole, and rendered it all alike worthless.
The propagation of Christianity over the Empire is to be
reckoned as another of the causes retarding its decay. It
is to be observed, however, that this took place too late
for reaping the advantages, which the morality of the Gospel
might have otherwise conferred ; and that the corruptions
of the times were so great as to lead its teachers rather
to preach the duty of withdrawing from the world, than
to inspire them with the hopes of remoulding the world to
an accordance with a system of perfect purity of morals and
benevolence of purpose. The effects of this cause were there-
fore comparatively small.
The reader will perceive that the subject we are upon
might be stretched to an indefinite length. Circumstances
have given to every community a peculiar character; the
moral and intellectual powers of every people have received
different degrees of developement, and the continuance of life
is more or less probable, and the possession of property more
or less assured, in one country than in another. All these
particulars vary the relations between the present and the
future, in the estimation of the members of different societies,
and would therefore determine each community to stop short
at some particular point in our series, towards which, the
strength of the accumulative principle may be said to cause
the instruments it forms continually to gravitate. Unlike the
1 Tacit. Ann. C. 55, L. III.
IN ACCUMULATIVE STRENGTH 101
operation of gravity, however, the force with which they tend
to this point diminishes, as their distance from it decreases,
and the farther they are removed from it, the greater the
rapidity of their progress towards it.
The subject would not therefore be fairly exhausted until all
the circumstances of the moral and intellectual state, and other
particulars of the condition of every people, had been examined,
and compared with the extent to which the formation of instru-
ments among them is advanced. Enough, however, has perhaps
been done to show, that this principle is of very extensive
operation, and that in our subsequent inquiries, we are war-
ran UM I in assuming the strength of the effective desire of
accumulation to be a circumstance of primary importance,
in the determination of the extent to which the formation of
instruments will be carried in any society. We should now
proceed to examine the more important effects resulting from
variations in the strength of this principle in different members
of the same community. It is however necessary first to con-
sonie phenomena produced by the progress of it, and
nf the inventive faculty, and certain classifications of instru-
ments and names applied to them, which have thence arisen.
This will form the subject of the next chapter.
CHAPTER VIII.
OF THE DIVISION OF EMPLOYMENTS AND OTHER PHENO-
MENA PRODUCED BY EFFORTS TO ACCELERATE THE
EXHAUSTION OF INSTRUMENTS,
EVERY individual endeavors to exhaust, as speedily as lie
can, the capacity of the instruments which he possesses. By
rapidly exhausting the capacity of any instrument, the returns
yielded by it are not lessened, but quickened. The powers it
possesses to bestow enjoyment, or to aid in the formation of
other instruments, are not diminished in quantity, but sooner
brought into action, and it passes to an order of quicker
return. When therefore the efforts of individuals, so directed,
are successful, by placing the instruments operated on in more
quickly returning orders, they stimulate the accumulative
principle to give greater capacity to instruments of the sort,
and proportionally increase the capacity of the whole stock of
instruments owned by the society. It is to certain phenomena, in
the production of which these two circumstances are the main
agents, that we have in this chapter to direct our attention.
As the knowledge which mankind possess of the course of
nature advances, and they discover a greater number of means
to provide for their future wants, the instruments they employ
for this purpose become very various. The exercise of the arts
of the weaver, the blacksmith, the carpenter, the farmer,
implies the existence of a great variety of tools with which
they may be carried on. But, as a man can only do one thing
at once, if any man had all the tools which these several
occupations require, at least three-fourths of them would
OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS 103
constantly lie idle and useless. It were clearly then better,
were any society to exist where each man had all these tools,
and alternately carried on each of these occupations, that the
members of it should if possible divide them amongst them,
each restricting himself to some particular employment.
There would then be no superfluous implements, each set of
tools would form an instrument much more speedily exhausted,
and therefore of an order of quicker return than before. In
where this could be done, common sense would point out
ic advantage of it. When, for instance, a man's loom came
be worn out, he would go to his neighbor and say, " I shall
>t make another loom if you will undertake to do what
feaving I may require ; in return I will give you some of the
luce of my farm, or will do some blacksmith work for you."
offer would be accepted, and similar motives operating
uoughout the society, each individual in it would confine his
lustry, as far as possible, to the employment of some par-
icular set of tools or instruments. It is not perhaps likely
[obvious], that this was the manner in which that division of
jupations with which we are now familiar was originally
luced, but it must evidently have been produced in this
ray, had it not been otherwise brought to pass, as we see,
fact, that even now it is thus brought to pass in the progress
settlements in North America. In such situations, every
is at first probably obliged to be his own carpenter,
r, tanner, cobbler, and perhaps to a great extent his own
smith. As the settlement fills up, and the population
>mes sufficiently dense, he gives up this multifarious
idustry, and takes to some particular branch. The advan-
of the change to the whole community, and therefore to
individual in it, are great. In the first place, the various
iplements being in constant employment yield a better
u ii for what has been laid out in procuring them ; being
ler exhausted they pass to a more quickly returning order,
consequence, their owners can afford to have them of better
and more complete construction; the effective desire of
i in ulation carries them on to a class correspondent to its
rn strength. The result of both events is, that a larger
>roviaiou is made for the future wants of the whole society.
104 OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS
Such a revolution can only have place, where the individuals
exercising the different employments, have a ready communica-
tion with each other. In situations where they cannot easily
communicate, either from distance, or difficulty of transit, such
exchanges cannot take place. 1 If a man had to go twenty
miles for every little piece of carpenter work that he wished
executed, it were better for him to keep a few carpenter tools
of his own. Neither is it likely to take place extensively
unless where the accumulative principle has considerable
strength, and where, consequently, a large amount of labor is
wrought up in the several implements in use. Where, as it.
Hindostan, the loom is merely a few sticks, it would save ond
individual very little to employ another to weave for him. It
is accordingly, in countries where the population is most
dense, the facility of communication greatest, and instruments
wrought up to the more slowly returning orders, that employ-
ments are most divided.
As a division of employments implies the existence of
exchange or barter, so, as it extends, these exchanges become
necessarily more frequent. Every man, to procure the supply
of his various wants, has to employ the services of more
individuals than he had before. The farmer, who used to
manufacture his own cloth from his own fleeces, transfers these
to some one else, and perhaps, after they have passed through
the hands of the carder, the spinner, the weaver, the fuller, etc.
part of them returns to him again in the shape of cloth for
some garment that he is in need of. In an advanced state of
society, very few wants are supplied but by articles or instru-
ments which have passed through many hands. We can
scarce then fitly pursue our subject, without some examination
of the manner in which these exchanges take place, and of tin 1
rules by which they are regulated.
As all instruments exist solely to supply wants, so any man
1 [In Carey's terminology, separation of employments depends upon the
"power of association." He believed that through an excessive scattering out
of the people into the backwoods settlements in his day this power, and
therefore its advantages, were in great measure lost. Compare Edward Gibbon
Wakefield on the " barbarising tendency to dispersion " in all frontier com-
munities.]
AND THE SYSTEM OF EXCHANGE 105
will consent to receive an instrument in exchange, or expect to
give it in exchange, only as it is a means of supplying wants.
It is the business of every man to adopt the readiest and easiest
means he can devise to supply all coming needs, and it is
solely because the medium of barter [exchange] presents the
readiest means of effecting this end, that he adopts it.
But labor is the fund which all men have, out of which to
supply their wants. Some have other funds besides, but every
man has this, and strip a man of every thing adventitious, this
alone remains to him. It is this, then, which a person may
most fitly be said to expend, in provision for any future want.
When one man exchanges this for that, he may be said to give
the labor which he has expended on this, for the labor which
has been expended on that, and labor for labor would seem to
be the most simple of exchanges. It never, as we shall see,
exactly takes place, but sometimes it is nearly approximated
to, and, that we may set out from the most simple elements, we
may suppose that it is actually arrived at.
Any man will be inclined to exchange one instrument for
another, if, by so doing, he can save himself any part of the
: which he must otherwise expend in producing that other.
A lives in some place where willows are to be had for cutting
them ; he employs himself in making willow baskets, one of
which he finishes in two days ; B offers him a straw hat for it.
If lie wants a straw hat, and thinks that, were he to set a
making one, it would occupy him more than two days, and
moreover, that neither D, E or F, who make straw hats, will
give it for less : he will be inclined to make the exchange. In
doing so, it is a matter of indifference to him what time B may
have expended in making the hat, his only reason for entering
-action, is the saving of labor to himself he thereby
In reality, however, it is altogether likely that B
has not expended more than two days in making it. For,
'sing, as in this case we may, that both A and B have the
same natural faculties, B, were he to set about making willow
baskets, could make them as well and as easily as A, that is at
the rate of one in two days. If then the straw hat cost him
more than two days' labor, he would rather make a willow
basket for himself than exchange his straw hat for it. Even if
106 OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS
he had not the manual skill necessary, he would apply himself
to acquire it, and take to the occupation of basket-making in
preference to that of making hats ; as we see, in employments
where mere labor is concerned, that one is deserted for another
according as it gives less or more wages.
It so comes to pass that in the same society, in all exchanges,
as far as we can conceive mere labor to be concerned, one man,
A, barters that which has cost him two, or twenty days' labor,
with that which has cost another, B, two, or twenty days'
labor. We must however bear in mind, that neither does A
offer the article, nor does B receive it, simply because it has
cost two, or twenty days' labor. A offers it, and B receives it,
because it is an instrument to supply future wants, and under
the supposition that it cannot be got for less than two or
twenty days' labor. In such cases, the person desirous of
making the exchange may indeed say to the individual with
whom he wishes to exchange, Sir, I assure you the article
cost me two, or twenty days' labor, as the case may be ; and
being assured of this, the person so addressed may think it
sufficient grounds to make the exchange, and may so conclude
the bargain. But he does so, not because the other has
expended two or twenty days' labor on it, but because, he
having expended this, he concludes that it cannot be got for
less ; that if it has cost him two or twenty days' work, it would
have cost any other, and would cost himself, the same
labor. If he knows that the person desirous of exchanging is
an unskilful or bungling workman, or if he sees that the labor
has been injudiciously applied, he will not give what is
demanded. He knows, in that case, that he can make it, or
get it made, for less. Were one to employ himself in rolling a
stone up hill and down hill for a month together, he would
leave it as useless to him in the way of exchange as before he
put his hand to it.
It may be laid down as a rule, then, that in as far as labor
simply is concerned in all exchanges, one thing will be bartered
for another, not in proportion to the labor that has been
respectively bestowed on each, but in proportion to that
which it is necessary to bestow on materials, similar to those
of which each has been constructed, to make other articles
AND THE SYSTEM OF EXCHANGE 107
equal to' them in capacity to supply wants ; that, if this
basket exchanges for that hat, though each may have cost
two days' labor, it is not exactly because each has cost it, but
because neither a basket equally good as the one, nor a hat
equally good as the other, can be made for less than two days'
labor.
As a corollary from this, it follows that, whenever an article
comes to be made with less labor than formerly, articles of the
same sort which may have been previously manufactured, pro-
cure for their owners less of other articles in exchange than
they did before. They exchange, not for what labor has been
actually wrought up in them, but for what is now required to
make others similar to them. Thus, supposing that a basket-
maker, say in some settlement in North America, having to go
on foot a considerable distance through woods and swamps for
his willow twigs, requires one day to procure enough to make a
basket, and that he takes another to work them up, he would
then probably receive for each basket two days' labor, or
articles having cost two days' labor. If now, however, a place
whfre equally good willows grow is discovered near at hand, so
that only half a day is required to get enough for a basket, and
if this is generally known, he will no longer be able to exchange
them at the same rate, because, as we have seen, other people
would make baskets for less, that is, for one and a half days'
labor, or for articles in the fabrication of which the labor of one
and a half days had been expended. Any stock then he might
have on hand of baskets made previously to this discovery,
would only exchange for articles requiring for their fabrication
Ui- labor of a day and a half. The same rule that applies to
thi- trivial instance, holds good in affairs of greater importance,
and regulates a large amount of exchanges.
I can however never exactly happen, that labor will be ex-
'_.'(<!, in this simple way, for labor. The formation of t
instrument, besides labor, requires also the assistance of some
other instrument. Even the basket-maker and the hat-maker,
allowing them to get the twigs and straw they require, for th<
Me of collecting them, would need, the one at least a knife,
the other a needle and thread. Auxiliaries so inconsider-
able as these need scarce be noticed in the reckoning; Imt
108 OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS
there are cases where these assisting instruments may be said
to do a great part, others, in which they may be said to do
nearly the whole of the work. In a steam-boat the engine
may be considered as the great laboring power, though
the services of the men who supply fuel, and regulate the
motion of it and of the boat, enter also largely into the
account. In a set of well-contrived, and well-finished pipes,
for conducting water through a city to the different houses
in it, the amount of human labor entering [directly] into the
process is very trifling.
A weaver we shall suppose receives thread to weave into a
piece of linen, and finishes the job in thirty days. Were he
now, in return, to receive from his employer simply thirty days'
labor, he would get too little ; for, his loom being an instru-
ment partially exhausted in fabricating the linen, this exhaus-
tion ought to form an item in the account. Suppose that the
effective desire of accumulation of the individual, is of strength
sufficient to carry him to the order G, doubling in seven years,
that the loom cost one hundred clays' labor, and that it will be
exhausted in seven years ; it would then require to return two
hundred days' labor, or an equivalent, at the end of that period.
The return however is not delayed so long, but begins to come
in daily, immediately after its construction. Calculating then
what yearly return is equal to two hundred days at the end of
seven years, in the estimation of a man who reckons one day
now equal to two then, it will turn out to be nearly twenty
days. We may allow that the loom is in employment three
hundred days a year, it would therefore, on these principles,
have to return two days' labor, for every thirty days during
which it was in operation, and the weaver would consequently
have to receive an equivalent to thirty-two days' labor ; at least
had he not a moral certainty of receiving this, he would not
have formed the instrument, and were such return to cease he
would not reconstruct it.
The transport of goods by sea is an event brought about as
much by the agency of instruments, as by direct human labor.
A vessel costs, we shall say, five thousand days' labor, is
exhausted in seven years, and is navigated by three men. If
she belongs to a person whose effective desire of accumulation
AND THE SYSTEM OF EXCHANGE 109
carries him only to the class G, and supposing those who
navigate her to be paid for three hundred days' labor, she must,
on these principles, return about nineteen hundred days' labor
annually. Say she is freighted to carry a cargo of timber, and
that the voyage occupies three months. This transport being
a part of the process of the formation of certain instruments,
houses, furniture, etc., as necessary as any other part of it, the
owner will therefore receive directly, or indirectly, from those
engaged in their formation, an equivalent to not less than four
hundred and seventy-five days' labor.
It is to be observed, too, that, even in cases where labor
alone seems to be paid for, time generally also forms one of the
ifl to be taken into account. Thus, an individual contracts,
within three months, to fell the trees on a certain piece of
forest land in a North American settlement. If then he be
paid at the commencement of the three months, he will expect
to receive less than if payment be deferred until the expiration
<>f that time, and the difference between the two amounts will
be regulated, as in other cases, by the particular orders to
which instruments, in that particular situation, are generally
wrought up. The same things hold good in all instances where
labor is paid for by the work executed, or, as it is termed, by
the piece.
The division of employments and consequent prevalence of
-ystem of exchange, occasions a particular classification of
amenta.
Before the division of employments takes place, the instru-
ments which every man forms, or causes to be formed, are for
immediate use, and after it has taken place, the portion in-
dividuals reserve for this purpose makes still a considerable part
ie whole of the instruments belonging to any community.
n the poorest beggar has some clothes to cover him ; the
opulent have houses, furniture, clothing, gardens, pleasure-
grounds, &c. This part of the whole mass of instruments
possessed by individuals or communities, is termed a stock
reserved for immediate consumption.
Tin- n-mainder of the general stock of instruments of indi-
viduals and of societies, with the exception of land, considered
not as actually cultivated, but as having [been given] a
110 OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS
capacity for being cultivated, is termed capital. The instru-
ments to which this term applies supply the future wants
of the individuals owning them, indirectly, either from being
themselves commodities that may be exchanged for articles
directly suited to their needs, or by their capacity of pro-
ducing commodities which may be so exchanged. 1
Capital itself is again subdivided into fixed, and circulating
capital. Fixed capital consists of instruments which have
a capacity for producing commodities to be exchanged, but
are not themselves formed for the purpose of being exchanged.
Circulating capital consists of commodities fitted for being
exchanged, or of instruments in process of formation into such
commodities.
It often happens that the division between fixed and circu-
lating capital is drawn with difficulty, some instruments
belonging partly to the one, and partly to the other. Thus a
horse employed for agricultural purposes is a part of fixed
capital, while an ox may belong partly to fixed, and partly
to circulating capital, as he is reared and fed, in part for
the services expected from him as an animal of draft, and
in part for the price his carcase brings.
The total instruments owned by an individual, or a society,
and comprehended under the terms a stock reserved for im-
mediate consumption, fixed and circulating capital, have
received the general appellation of stock.
All instruments, whether comprehended under the divisions
capital fixed and circulating, or a stock reserved for immediate
consumption, possess a capacity for supplying the wants, or
saving the labor of man. But the wants which they supply
a [ Apparently Rae excludes land, considered as the basal instrument of
agriculture, from the category of capital, because it is an instrument of
"indefinite period of exhaustion" and yields income in the form of rent
instead of interest or profit. It is important to observe that Rae makes no
use of the specific definition of capital here given, which follows closely the
lead of Adam Smith. His working concept of capital coincides with all
stock. The title of this second "Book," it will be remembered, was: "Of
the Nature of Stock and of the Laws Governing its Increase and Diminution.'*
This reprint would have been called the Sociological Theory of Stock, had
that been a terminology which would speak to the present generation of
readers.]
AND THE SYSTEM OF EXCHANGE 111
and the labor which they save, are in general not immediate,
but future. Now we cannot estimate the same amount of
labor saved, or wants supplied tomorrow, and five, or fifty
years hence, as equivalent the one to the other. Thus if we
compare together a hundred full grown trees, and as many
saplings, it may be, that, estimated in the supply they yield
the wants of futurity, they are alike. If the former be
cut down tomorrow they may yield a hundred cords of fire
wood, and if the latter be cut down fifty years hence they
may yield the same. We should not nevertheless conceive,
thai they were equal the one to the other. What measure then
are we to adopt for comparing them and other such instru-
ments together, and thus finding an expression in a quantity
of immediate labor for the whole capacity of instruments
possessed by any community or for the whole stock of that
i-niiimunity ? The natural measure would seem to be the
relative estimate, which the individuals concerned themselves
form of the present and the future, that is, the strength of the
effective desire of accumulation of the particular community.
Thus in a community whose effective desire of accumulation
is of strength sufficient to carry it to the formation of instru-
ments of the order E, doubling in five years, an instrument,
which at the expiration of five years yielded a return equiva-
lent to two days' labor, might fairly be estimated as equivalent
to one day's present labor ; if at the expiration of ten years it
yielded an equivalent to four days' labor, it might also now
be rated at one day's labor, and so for other periods. This
fore is a mode of expressing in present days' labor the
whole capacity of the instruments owned by any society which
will be made use of in the following pages; and the terms,
the absolute stock, and absolute capital of that society, will be
employed to denote it.
The mode, however, in which the fixed and circulating
capital and stock belonging to societies is usually estimated,
Iferent. It is usual to estimate the instruments belonging
to any society, by comparing them with one another as they
actually exchange, some particular commodity being made
choice of as the standard to which all other instruments
are referred. To capital and stock estimated in this mode.
112 OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS
the terms, relative capital and stock of societies, will be
applied.
In cases where the effective desire of accumulation of a
community has had opportunity to work up the materials
possessed by it into instruments of an order correspondent
to its own strength, the absolute and relative stock must,
it is obvious, agree ; but, in cases where the accumulative
principle has not yet had time fully to operate, the former
will exceed the latter. Thus, were we to suppose the returns
made by the whole of the instruments belonging to a society,
or their total capacity, to be suddenly doubled, without any
addition to the labor employed in forming them, the total
absolute stock of the society would also be doubled, while its
relative stock would remain unaltered. The relations of the
several instruments possessed by it remaining the same, what-
ever commodity had been adopted as the standard, when
applied to measure the others it would give the same results
as before. It never, indeed, can happen that any increase
to the capacity of the instruments forming the stock of a
society, so great and sudden as we have supposed, can take
place ; but however small such increase, it would have a
real effect, and would occasion a difference in the amount
of the whole stock as estimated in the one or the other
manner. Every such increase is effected through the opera-
tion of the inventive faculty, and we shall therefore defer the
consideration of the effects flowing from it, until we come
to treat of the phenomena resulting from the progress of that
faculty.
Though the division of employments consequent to the
progress of science and art, and the operation of the accumu-
lative principle, on the whole greatly accelerates the exhaus-
tion of instruments, there are yet some particulars in which
it tends somewhat to retard that exhaustion. In the most
simple state of society, when art is so rude, and accumulation
so little advanced, that each individual forms almost all the
instruments he himself or his family exhaust, and when, con-
sequently, the general stock of the community is nearly
altogether a stock formed and reserved for immediate con-
sumption, it can seldom happen that there will be either an
AND THE SYSTEM OF EXCHANGE 113
over abundance, or a deficiency of instruments of any sort.
As each individual can make an accurate estimate of his own
wants and those of his family, prudent men, in such a state
of things, provide only the instruments that may be of use to
thrm, and do not form any but such as they foresee will come
into employment as they are formed. But when individuals
ceasing to form only instruments directly supplying their
own wants, give the greater part of the industry they can
nand to manufacturing commodities for the purpose of
inge, as they have not the means of calculating with
equal accuracy the wants of other men, it occasionally happens
that some commodities are produced in excess, and that there
deficiency of others.
When, again, the state of society is such, that each in-
dividual forms almost the whole instruments he requires,
there is very little transport of commodities from place
to place. The amount of transport necessarily increases with
-eparation of employments. This forms another drawback
. the advantages arising from the extension of the division
of occupations, and system of exchange. On account there-
fore both of many commodities being produced in excess, and
- being necessary to transport most from place to place,
there are always, in such states of society, very many com-
ities lying idle, being neither under process of formation
or exhaustion, but collected in masses at different points,
waiting till some vacancy be found for them. The longer
continue in this state the farther they must pass towards
the orders of slower return, and the more the operation of
the accumulative principle must be retarded.
It seems to be chiefly from the desire of obviating some-
what these two disadvantages attending the general advance
T and industry, that, when the nature of the occupation
permits it, individuals engaged in all the different divisions
:idustry place themselves as near each other as possible,
form villages and towns. Each can thus more easily
st the amount of commodities he produces to the wants
i urn, and thus also there arises a great saving of
osport.
It is also in a great measure owing to the necessity of
ii
114 OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS
transporting commodities from place to place, and to the
difficulty of regulating the precise amount produced consequent
on the division of occupations, that there arises an order
of men, that of merchants, devoting themselves solely to the
business of transport and exchange. Merchants are the great
exchangers of society, regulating the production of commodities
and collecting and distributing them to situations where the
never-ceasing processes of formation and exhaustion are pro-
ducing vacancies for them. It is their business to make
these exchanges with the greatest possible rapidity, and least
possible expense.
There is a general average time elapsing from the period
of the formation of every commodity, until it pass from the
individual having formed it, to the individuals who exhaust
it in the supply of their wants, or employ it in the formation
of other instruments. The merchant who effects the transfer
of commodities between the other members of society is
entitled to receive an amount exceeding that which he gave,
by the return which the labor embodied in the commodity
exchanged should yield for this average time, according to
the general rate of return of capital in the community. If
therefore the superior intelligence, penetration, and activity
of any merchant giving him the power of foreseeing with
greater accuracy than his brethren where vacancies are about
to exist, and what will be their extent, and of discovering
where the commodities proper to fill them up may most
readily be found, and most easily transported to the requisite
places enables him to effect these transfers with greater
facility than usual, and within less than the average time,
he will receive a proportionally greater return than other
merchants. On the contrary, if, from a deficiency in these
qualities, any merchant attempt the transfer of commodities
for which there is no vacancy, or effect the transfer of com-
modities for which there is a vacancy, at more than the
average expense, or in more than the average time, the returns
his capital yields him will be less than those usually received
by the other members of the community. Mercantile energy
is thus stimulated to effect all practicable exchanges with
the greatest possible celerity, and at the least possible expense
AND THE SYSTEM OF EXCHANGE 115
The activity which is in consequence given to the process
of exchange, is a circumstance exceedingly beneficial to the
interests of the community. By lessening the distance between
the periods of formation and exhaustion, and diminishing the
use of formation (for transport makes a part of that
use), the successful exertions of the mercantile portion
of society have a powerful tendency to preserve instruments
in the more quickly returning orders, and to excite the action
of the accumulative principle. Our subject consequently
requires us to examine somewhat more particularly the
mechanism by which the business of merchants is conducted,
and the mode of calculation by which it is practically
luted. Our attention too is more especially called to
these, because it is from the former that the principles of
the present science of political economy are derived, and on
the latter that its nomenclature is founded.
The foundation of the mechanism of mercantile transac-
tions is
Money.
Gold and silver, or, as they are called, the precious metals,
are more properly entitled to the appellation of money than
any other thing is, because they more generally pass for money
than does any thing else. Their beauty, their incorruptibility,
and some other of their qualities afterwards to be considered,
have, in almost every country, rendered them the means
of affording much enjoyment, that is, of supplying, to a
large extent, certain of the wants of man. It seems likely
these qualities, joined to the facility with which they
may be transported from place to place, first made them
esteemed the most desirable of all commodities that one could
possess. In the very frequent revolutions and commotions
occur in the earlier ages of society, articles that do
lecay, can be hid, or carried off without difficulty, and
always estimable, would naturally of all others be most
led. They thus probably were first chiefly sought at
for the purpose of being retained, not for that of being ex-
changed ; even yet in many countries, partly from old habits,
and partly from still prevailing insecurity, they are chieny
cl as of all things, those best fit to be hoarded. But,
116 OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS
in whatever manner their use may have been introduced,
or how much soever in some countries it may be dependent
on a feeling of insecurity, at present or formerly prevailing,
and prompting their possessors to keep not to part with them,
they are now more generally sought for, for the purpose
of being immediately passed away, forming, in the shape of
money, the great medium of exchange; and it is solely in the
part they thus act, that we have here very briefly to consider
them.
When, in the progress of society, men divide into different
occupations, and each ceasing to fabricate himself all the
instruments his wants require, barters the instruments or
commodities he forms for those formed by others, the system
of exchange, as we have seen, commences. The introduction,
to a greater or less extent, of some sort of money, seems
naturally to follow. For when a man forms only one sort
of instruments or commodities, it cannot at all times happen
that he can exchange them with articles fabricated by other
men, and necessary to supply his wants, because these other
men, the formers and possessors of what he desires, may not
at the moment have occasion for what he has formed. "The
butcher has more meat in his shop than he himself can con-
sume, and the brewer and the baker would each of them
be willing to purchase a part of it. But they have nothing
to offer in exchange, except the particular productions of their
respective trades, and the butcher is already provided with
all the bread and beer which he has immediate occasion
for." 1 There are two modes by which the desired exchange
may be effected. If the brewer and the baker have a com-
modity received by every one for all others, such as money
is, they may each give the butcher a certain quantity of it
for a quantity of meat, and when he requires their ale and
bread, he may, in turn, send back to them also a quantity
of money. Or, the butcher may be satisfied with the promise
of the brewer and the baker, that, at some future time, when
he has occasion for it, they will give him a quantity of ale
and bread, or of something else. These two modes of effecting
the object form the two systems of cash, or credit, by which
1 Wealth of Nations, Book I. c. IV.
AND THE SYSTEM OF EXCHANGE 117
all the business of every country that consists not in barter,
is carried on.
Pieces of gold and silver coined, that is stamped with a
mark regulating and assuring by the authority of the magistrate
the weight and fineness of each, enter largely into transactions
of the former order ; they make the bulk of the current coin
of most countries. Supposing the whole of the exchanges
of any country that are not simple barter, effected by money,
and that gold and silver form the sole money, then the
amount of them so employed [at any given level of prices]
would seem to be regulated by two circumstances.
The first of these is the quantity of commodities that may
exist to be exchanged. This again must depend on the
quantity of materials wrought up into instruments, and on
progress of the division of labor [employments]. As the
number of instruments increase, and as from their first
commencing formation, until they are exhausted, they pass
through more hands, the amount of exchanges must increase.
As the number of instruments formed decrease, and as every
man himself constructs a greater proportion of those necessary
to supply his own wants, the amount of exchanges must
diminish, and as the amount of exchanges increases, or
diminishes, so must there be required [at any given level
of prices] a greater or less quantity of the medium through
which they are transacted.
In such a state of things as we suppose, could every
man see exactly beforehand the whole series of the exchanges
that would present themselves to him, every prudent man
would so manage his exchanges, that is his purchases and
sales, as to provide himself with the exact amount of
money necessary to effect every exchange that he might deem
it advisable to execute. But no man can with accuracy fore-
see what transactions may present themselves to him, or
when they may do so. The amount of possible future ex-
i'_jes that may offer to any man, and the time they may
occur, are exceedingly uncertain, depending on many things
not to be foreknown the operations of other individuals
engaged in the formation of instruments immediately or
remotely connected with those on which his means or industry
118 OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS
is engaged, the course of the winds and seasons, the fortune
of war, the progress of treaties, and numberless other events
equally doubtful in their issues. Every man, therefore, would
in such a state of things, suffer two inconveniences, he would
occasionally have too much money, and occasionally too little.
He would sometimes have a sum lying for a long time useless
by him, and an advantageous purchase would sometimes
present itself to him which he had not cash sufficient to effect.
Between these two opposite evils, it would be his business
to steer as safe a course as possible ; he could not hope
altogether to avoid them, but must be content to suffer
occasionally from both. Which of the two it would be
most prudent for him to run the risk of suffering from, would,
I conceive, depend on another circumstance, forming the
second of those that, under the suppositions we have made,
regulate the amount of precious metals in circulation.
Every man must be more unwilling to run the risk of
having a sum of money lying useless by him, by how much
greater the amount of the returns he could have by turning it
to the formation of instruments. If then, in the society of
which any man is a member, instruments are not far removed
from the first orders of our series, when they soonest double
the expenditure of their formation, he will rather risk the in-
convenience of having too little money by him, than the loss
of having a sum in his coffers long unemployed, which might
have been converted into instruments yielding large returns.
But if, in the society of which he is a member, instruments
are far removed from the first orders of our series, he will be
disposed to reserve a greater amount in the hopes of making
more by some advantageous bargain, than he could by expend-
ing it on the formation of any instrument. We should expect
then to find, that, in countries where either the principle of
accumulation is too weak to carry instruments on to the more
slowly returning orders, or where it has not yet had time to do
so, money would be scarce, and that, where this principle
having had time to act, its strength has carried them to the
farther orders, there money would be plenty. Such will be
found to be the fact. In China, gold and silver are rarely
seen, in the interior traffic of the country ; in Holland, they
AND THE SYSTEM OF EXCHANGE 119
have always abounded. In new settlements in America, where
from the superabundance of materials, instruments are of very
quickly returning orders, the amount of coin to be found is
exceedingly small. When a man there has cash in his pocket,
la- finds so many things that he could with profit expend it on,
that he can scarcely refrain from doing so.
:i European visiting some parts of Upper Canada, is sur-
prised when he comes to discover, that a few dollars is all the
that even men comparatively rich may have lying by
i. He is apt to conceive that they are poor men, and to
describe the country as a poor country. In doing so, how-
. he does not make a correct use of words. He sees, for
instance, a man who, ten years before, may have brought a
sum of two hundred pounds to the place where he is now
>d, without at present twenty dollars in his pocket, and
who perhaps, were that sum suddenly demanded of him, might
have difficulty to procure it. In one sense, then, the man is
poor. But, were this man asked to sell his farm and his
other property, he probably would not give it for less than a
thousand pounds, and he might get this sum for it. If so, it
is ten to one that he would lay out the greater part of it
in the purchase of a larger quantity of land than he before
possessed, and the remainder in improving that land, so that a
year or two would see him just as bare of cash as before; and
twelve years afterwards, if he went on prosperously, he would
still have but a trifle of ready cash, though perhaps he might
truly consider his property worth two or three thousand
pounds, and might not be disposed to take less for it. He
could hardly, therefore, be called a poor man. In this part of
America, as formerly over the whole of it, " the scarcity of gold
and silver money is not the effect of the poverty of that
itry, or of the inability of the people there to purchase
e metals. The scarcity of these metals is the effect of
choice and not of necessity. It is convenient for the Ameri-
cans, who can always employ with profit, in the improvement
ir lands, a greater stock than they can easily get, to save
as much as possible the expense of so costly an instrument as
gold and silver; and rather to employ that part of their
surplus produce which would be necessary for purchasing those
1JO OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS
metals, in purchasing the instruments of trade, the materials of
clothing, several parts of household furniture, and the iron
work necessary for building and extending their settlements, in
purchasing, not dead stock, but active and productive stock." l
But, though the loss of having more idle cash lying by
one than can possibly be dispensed with, must be felt most
sensibly where such cash can be most profitably expended, where
instruments, that is, are not far from the first orders of our
series, still it must always be felt. A man will never keep
two hundred pounds in his chest, if he thinks it probable that
one hundred will be sufficient, because he can always make
something of the other hundred. Although however, men, in
such cases, must be governed by what they think probably
will happen, yet, as no man can foresee with certainty what
may happen, every man will now and then be wrong in his
calculations, and therefore, under the suppositions we have
made, every man would occasionally suffer from having too
little cash, as well as at other times from having too much.
The effect of both these sorts of losses must be, to place
the instruments on which they operate in orders of slower
return, than they would otherwise occupy. One wishes to
purchase a pair of young horses of a particular sort ; for this
purpose he reserves a quantity of coin equivalent to four
hundred days' labor ; he happens, however, not to meet with a
pair that suits him for the space of six months, when he
purchases two, giving for them the amount he had anticipated.
It is evident, in this case, that they have really cost him, not
only the four hundred days' labor, but all that in the country
in which he lives, that labor would have produced, besides
paying for itself, during the six months he was looking out for
the bargain. Now, as this additional outlay cannot add to the
capacity of these instruments, to the strength, swiftness, beauty,
and health, that is, of the animals, nor diminish their age,
it must be esteemed as lessening the proportion between the
return to be got from them, and the outlay expended on them,
and must move them proportionally towards the orders of
slower return. Again, it may have been that the person who
at last sold the horses, may have been desirous of selling
1 Wealth of Nations, Book V. c. III.
AND THE SYSTEM OF EXCHANGE
121
lem for six months before he effected the sale, and that at the
commencement of that period he may have met with an indi-
vidual who would have purchased them, but not having antici-
pated the occurrence of so favorable an offer, happened not
then to have the necessary cash. If we suppose them to have
been merely useless to their owner during the period from
tin-nee elapsed, the service they rendered him being just
>ufticient to pay for their food and keep, still, this retardation
in the return from the outlay in the formation of them as an
instrument, also moves them for him so much towards the
more slowly returning orders, and diminishes the activity of
accumulative principle. If the individual who raised
tin-in does not receive an additional price, proportionate to
the delay, the occurrence will have a tendency to make him
give up this branch of business.
Similar events taking place in the exchange of other instru-
ments, would produce similar results, and therefore two evils
would necessarily accompany the state of affairs we have sup-
posed. There would be two drawbacks on the progress of the
industry of the society, the one consisting in the expense of
the circulating medium, the other in the loss arising from a
deficiency in it. The two together would be in proportion to
the amount of exchanges, which the progress of knowledge, the
strength of the principle of accumulation, and the quality of
the materials within reach of the society, caused to be trans-
acted. The evil directly arising from them would be the
consequent retardation of the returns from the industry of
the society, an evil equivalent to a proportional diminution of
these, and placing [the instruments producing] them in more
slowly returning orders. The evil indirectly arising from
them would be, the keeping a greater or less extent of
materials without the reach of the strength of the accumulative
principle of the society, and the consequent nonfonnation, to a
iter or less extent, of instruments that would otherwise
have been formed.
The proportion between the two would be determined by
the order to which the strength of the effective desire of
accumulation, and the time which it had had to operate, had
carried the formation .i instruments.
122 OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS
But the state of things we have supposed never exists. It
: cely happens, even to return to the sort of transactions we
set out from, that a butcher, a brewer, a baker, dealing
together, effect all their business either by direct barter, or
by cash. The butcher would, in very many cases, be satisfied
with the implied promise of the brewer and the baker, that, at
some future time, they will give him a quantity of the com-
modities they respectively deal in, or of money, or some
equivalent to it, equal to the price of the beef each received.
This mode of effecting the object, constitutes the system of
credit, the second of the two systems by which exchanges are
carried on. It has an existence in every country, and in most
civilized countries, as is well known, the great bulk of transac-
tions are carried on by the aid of it. Were the actual or im-
plied promise, which the party receiving the commodity makes
to him giving it, always fulfilled, it would in itself be
unattended with any loss, and might possibly be so managed as
almost entirely to supersede the use of coined money as a
medium of exchange.
The whole amount of the purchases made by any individual
within a limited time, is, in general, about equal to the sales
he effects within the same time. If, therefore, in any commu-
nity, all the exchanges, which are not direct barter, were to be
transacted by credit, and were the obligations to pay granted
by all persons engaged in business in it to expire at the same
time, when that time came round, every individual would hold
obligations to receive, to about as large an amount as he
had granted to pay. If then each individual had granted
obligations to pay, to the same persons as he had received
others from, the business would be at once concluded by a
reciprocal delivery of obligations. But this can scarcely ever
happen ; almost all the obligations to receive payment, which
any individual holds, will be from other persons than those to
whom he himself has granted obligations. The affair might
however be managed, and the same end arrived at, by a
transfer of obligations from hand to hand. A has bound him-
self to pay B fifty pounds, B to pay C fifty pounds, and C to
pay A fifty pounds. If, then, A pay B, by giving him C's
obligation, B can discharge his debt to C with it, and thus the
AN 7 D THE SYSTEM OF EXCHANGE 123
debts and credits of the whole three be settled. By opera-
tions more complicated, but conducted on similar principles,
nearly the whole system of exchanges of any community might
be managed.
There are two obstacles to this mode of effecting exchanges
by credit. The first arising from its inherent complexedness
and difficulty, the second from the liability of the contracting
parties to fail in fultilling their engagements, from dishonesty,
miscalculation, and accidents impossible to be foreseen. These
restrict its application in general to transactions for large
amounts, little doubtful in themselves, and which from their
nature can be easily systematized and arranged. Such appears
to have been the viremens, or transfers, at Lyons. 1 Such also
are the transfers effected by the London bankers. In Kussia,
however, it would seem to be applied to transactions much more
various, and complicated. Mr. Storch informs us that the
creditors and debtors of the province of Kief, and several
others adjoining the proprietors, capitalists, merchants, those
who want funds, and those who want to dispose of them, meet
in the month of January, in the town of Kief, to make such
transfers, and that in 1804, the amount of their exchanges
was upwards of twenty millions of rubles, or about three
millions seven hundred thousand pounds sterling. Transfers
similar to these are made, he adds, at Keval, and many other
towns in the empire. 2
There is another method by which the system of credits
might be conducted, and which may be illustrated by an
example taken from a country already referred to, where
the causes exciting to its introduction, and giving preva-
lence to it, operate very powerfully. In many parts of North
America, but more especially in new settlements in Upper
Canada, the scarcity of cash, and perhaps other circumstances,
often lead traders to adopt a peculiar plan of business. Every
dealer provides himself with a general assortment of all sorts
of commodities in demand in the settlement he inhabits, and
reckons on being paid for them in the shape of grain, potash,
pork, beef, and other commodities, in the formation of which
'Ganilh, De* ityrttme* (ftconomie politique, Tome II. p. 155.
'Storch, Coura dYconomu, Tome II. p. 353.
124 OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS
his customers are engaged. But in this sort of barter, one
article will generally fall short or exceed the value of the
other, a pound of tea will not exchange for a hog, nor a
quarter of wheat for a dozen pounds of sugar. To obviate the
difficulty, the merchant opens an account with each of his
customers, charging him with the goods furnished, and giving
him credit for [crediting him with] the produce received, and
in this way perhaps all the transactions between the two are
managed, either by barter or credit, without the assistance of a
dollar of cash. Nor is this all ; a great variety of other trans-
actions are also effected through his intervention. Any person
who may have furnished him with an overplus of produce, or
who has credit with him, can through his means settle most
accounts or balances due on accounts. He may thus pay the
laborers, and the artificers, and tradesmen, he may employ, by
an order on the shop, or as it is called, store, of the country
dealer. Besides these, the transactions of the storekeeper
extend to the giving out of the raw produce of the country to
individuals in the settlement, tradesmen, etc., who may not
themselves have enough, and to the receipt in return of
various articles, such as axes, shoes, boots, made-up clothes ;
and in this way through his books, a very large portion of the
business of the settlement is transacted. It is not difficult to-
conceive, that the whole might be so transacted.
Were the country dealer always to have a supply of every
article in demand in the settlement, at a reasonable rate, and
were all contracts for the delivery of produce to him to be
regularly executed, almost all the requisite exchanges might be
conveniently effected through his books. But in this sort of
traffic, as the merchant always has commodities to sell, and his
customers have not always produce to return, it inevitably
happens that they get into his debt. As his object is to sell
as many goods as possible, he is very apt to allow many
to run in his debt, who do not fulfil their engagements. He
suffers from the dishonesty, or the imprudence and miscalcula-
tions of those who deal with him. Very many of his
customers are much longer of paying him than they have
promised, or they do not pay at all. Aware of the risk
he runs, he is obliged to balance it by charging an additional
AND THE SYSTEM OF EXCHANGE 125
sum, over and above what he would otherwise demand, on
all commodities that pass through his hands. In some cases,
this advance amounts to at least 30 per cent. In this way he
makes, or endeavors to make, the prudent and honest persons
who deal with him, pay for the imprudent and dishonest, who
deal with him. The former class, in consequence, keep
out of the circle of all such transactions, as much as possible,
and store-pay, as it is called, is depreciated. 1
Gold and silver would thus seem to have been considered,
first, simply as themselves the most precious, and easily pre-
served of all articles ; next, their capacity for being divided
and re-united without injury, would seem to have led to their
general employment in exchange for other things the acquisition
of which their possessors found useful or necessary ; 2 con-
venience then to have rendered it expedient to have them
formed into pieces of a certain weight and fineness, when they
began to constitute what is now called money ; lastly, their
general adoption as money would seem naturally to have
rendered them proper measures to give fixedness to those
obligations to future delivery of things in exchange, which the
increased security and tranquillity of modern times, and the
i amount of exchanges transacted, have in recent days
introduced. In the two latter employments, as serving for
real, or determining the rights which the possession of fictitious
money conveys, they occasionally serve as media for exchanging
all instruments, and, therefore, for determining and expressing
their relation to each other, as things capable of being
exchanged. In this way measuring all things exchanged, or
capable of being exchanged, that is, all instruments, they come
to denote the amount of instruments, or capital, or stock, which
any man possesses. A person is said to be worth five
hundred, or five thousand pounds, as he has instruments
which, in exchange, would be measured by these sums re-
spectively ; and, as in common life all things are considered,
1 [The omission at this point constitutes Part I. of the Article on Banking in
ppendix.]
the Knight parted with a link or two of his gold chain, when in need,
more ancient times the traveller carried his bag of gold dust.
126 OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS
not as they are, but merely in their actions and relations,
instruments come there, also, to be spoken about, and con-
ceived of, altogether in the relation they have to certain pieces
of gold and silver. 1
These are not the only effects which the exchange of instru-
ments for one another, and the consequent use of money as the
medium of exchange, have produced in our conceptions of
them. The system of exchanges, being attended by that of
credit, implies the existence of some mode of ascertaining the
amount to be rendered back, for instruments received in trust.
It is sufficiently obvious that this must be determined by the
order to which the principle of accumulation, and the time it
has had to operate, has carried the formation of instruments in
the society. If, in any society, instruments are at the order D,
doubling in four years, then one receiving an instrument on
trust, for four years, will, at the end of that period, have ta
return two of the same sort and quality. If they are at the
order E, he will have to return two at the end of five years,
etc. Thus it is a common practice in many parts of North
America, especially in new settlements, to sell cattle and sheep
on trust, the terms being that double the number thus trans-
ferred is to be returned in four or five years, as the agreement
may be made. More generally, however, much shorter periods
are adopted, for the settlement of accounts. The natural
periods of a year, and a month, have in different times and
places, been made choice of for this purpose. It is then
necessary to calculate what is due by the one party to the
other at these periods, and these calculations are naturally
made in money.
Instead, for instance, of returning two cows at the end of
five years, the bargain may be, that a proportional sum is to be
paid at the end of the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth
years. Were money paid for the cow immediately, the amount
we shall say would be twenty dollars, the double of that,
which would be the sum to be given were the time of payment
deferred till the expiration of five years, is forty dollars. The
annual payment can neither be a fifth part of the one sum,
1 [That is to say, in Rae's peculiar terminology, we consider in common life
only " relative stock " and disregard " absolute stock. "]
AND THE SYSTEM OF EXCHANGE 127
four dollars, nor of the other, eight dollars, but one between the
two, in this case about six dollars. Again, the bargain may
be, that a cow be returned at the expiration of the fifth year,
and that, for her use during that time, an annual remuneration
be made ; this would be a half of the former annual payment,
nearly three dollars, and that sum accordingly, when such an
arrangement takes place, is the usual yearly payment for what
is called the rent of the cow. Whatever order instruments
may be at, some similar calculation might determine, what
should be the proportion annually paid for the use of any of
them. The employment of money in these calculations has
simplified them, by the introduction of general rules. The
return which instruments make, is estimated at so much in the
hundred, or per cent, that is, in the hundred pounds, dollars, or
whatever may be the current coin. Reducing our orders to
this phraseology, they would be respectively:
A 100 per cent, per ann. H 9 per cent, per ann.
B 41 18
C 26 J 7
D19 n * K 6-5
15 L 5-9
F 12 ,, M 5-5
G10 N 5 etc.
It is on these principles, that all reckonings are made, not
only of instruments given on credit, but of those retained. In
the latter case, the annual return is termed profits of stock, in
former interest. There is, however, this difference between
the two, that, in the profits of stock, is generally included the
return that has to be made, for the mental exertion and
ty, and bodily fatigue, of the owner of the stock. There
iso, a difference between them, in common language, ari
fn>m its being the practice to speak of the more favoral>lt>
issues of instruments, as determining the rate, without reckon-
ing those that have turned out less favorably, or unfortunately.
A.lam Smith : " In a country where the ordinary rate of
i profit is eight or ten per cent, it may be reasonable tli.ti
one half of it should go to interest, wherever business is carried
on with borrowed money. The stock is at the risk of the
128 OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS
borrower, who, as it were, insures it to the lender ; and four or
five per cent, may, in the greater part of trades, be both a
sufficient profit upon the risk of this insurance, and a sufficient
recompense for the trouble of employing the stock." l Here,
ordinary profit evidently means, not the average profit, but the
profit of favorable years. The average profit of a merchant,
for example, is not properly the profit he makes upon his
more favorable adventures, but what he makes on all those
adventures that yield a profit, whether great or small, after
deducting the actual loss he may sustain on others. The
average profits of all the merchants of any country, also,
include their very favorable, their less favorable, and their
losing adventures. In this way, using the term profit for the
return made from the outlay expended on the formation of the
whole instruments spoken of, actual losses are also included in
it, and, in speaking prospectively of future profit, the risk of
future loss is included, and what Adam Smith calls the risk of
insurance disappears. If in a country where the average profit
is, in reality, only eight per cent., a particular merchant con-
tinue for some years to make ten per cent., he may indeed
expect, and is perhaps apt to expect, the same return in future
years; but, unless in so far as he can truly calculate on
his mercantile sagacity and activity being above par, in
so doing, he acts imprudently, and the chances are that he
is undeceived by having to sustain actual losses in succeeding
years.
We may then assume the rate of interest as a fair measure
of the real average rate of profits in any country, and conse-
quently of the order in our series, at which instruments are
there arrived. So receiving it, we shall find that it agrees very
closely with the preceding observations.
In China, we are told by Barrow, that the legal rate of
interest is twelve per cent., but that, in reality, it varies from
eighteen to thirty-six. The remarks of other authors agree
pretty accurately with this statement, fixing the orders at C or
D. The Dutch seem, of all European nations, hitherto to have
been inclined to carry instruments to the most slowly returning
orders. The durability given to all the instruments constructed
1 Wealth of Nations, Book I. c. III.
AND THE SYSTEM OF EXCHANGE 129
by them, the care with which they are finished, and the atten-
tion paid to preserving and repairing them, have been often
noticed by travellers. In the days when their industry and
frugality were most remarkable, interest was very low, govern-
ment borrowing at two per cent, and private people at three.
The former indicated an order doubling in about thirty-three
years, the latter, one doubling in twenty-three years. In
ancient Rome, interest was in reality exceedingly high, from
twelve to fifty per cent. 1 Were we farther to compare the
orders in which instruments appear to stand in other countries,
with the rate of interest in those countries, we should find the
two everywhere correspondent. I apprehend, however, that
is needless, for, as the reader must on consideration per-
e, it is impossible it can be otherwise. Loans, indeed, pass
under the name of money, but money is only the means of
effecting the loan, it is in reality instruments that are lent, and
must in return yield not much less [somewhat more] than
what is paid for their use, otherwise they would not be bor-
rowed, and [but] not much more, otherwise they would not be
lent.
The system of calculation, the foundation of which we have
been considering as connected with exchanges, is convenient
for all engaged in the business of transfers, and answers their
purposes very perfectly. When applied, however, to specula-
purposes, it labors under the disadvantage to which all
practical general rules are liable, when assumed as speculative
al principles. According to it, stock is regarded alto-
gether as measured by money, and an amount of stock is
considered, simply, as an amount of money, or something that
will bring money. The stocks, therefore, of different countries,
viewed as differing merely in amount, and every increase
and diminution of the stock of the same country, as a simple
addition, or subtraction, of an homogeneous quantity. These
its being so viewed, have been assumed so to exist, and the
general increase and diminution of stock have been treated of,
as things as simple in their nature, as the rows of digits
loyed to mark the amount of money by which they are
(It furore, par Boucher, Paris, 1819, p. '2.1. The laws against
, there, as elsewhere, increased, instead of diminishing the evil.
I
130 OF SEPARATION OF EMPLOYMENTS
estimated. Some of the fallacies hence arising, will be pre-
sently noted ; they will, I believe, be found to be the foundation
of much of the contradictions, in which the reasonings on these
subjects are involved.
[With respect to the particular subject touched upon in this last paragraph,
see the Article on Method in the Appendix, the passage beginning : "Thus,
if in any particular society, we were to be asked, what the capital of some
other person were," etc. At the risk of anticipating somewhat, a passage
from Chapter I. Book I. of the original is introduced here.]
The observation of Bacon is now trite, that men believe
that the words they employ in the process of reasoning, serve
the intellect as mere passive instruments, but that, in reality,
they have often an active reflex power, through which, while
the mind deems it governs them, they are enabled to usurp
the command of it, and so misdirect its course.
Our author [Adam Smith] notices the errors, which, in this
way, have arisen from the use of the term money.
" Money, in common language, as I have already observed,
frequently signifies wealth ; and this ambiguity of expression
has rendered this popular notion so familiar to us, that even
they who are convinced of its absurdity, are very apt to forget
their own principles, and, in the course of their reasonings, to
take it for granted as a certain and undeniable truth. Some
of the best English writers upon commerce set out with
observing, that the wealth of a country consists, not in its
gold and silver only, but in its lands, houses, and consumable
goods of all different kinds. In the course of their reason-
ings, however, the lands, houses, and consumable goods, seem
to slip out of their memory ; and the strain of their argument
frequently supposes that all wealth consists in gold and silver,
and that to multiply those metals, is the great object of
national industry and commerce." 1
It is remarkable that, in the use of the term capital, he
himself leads his readers into a somewhat similar error.
Capital means in common language a sum of money, or
something for which a sum of money can be got ; and, as
1 Wealth of Nations, B. IV. c. I. [See " Note D " in the Appendix.]
AND THE SYSTEM OF EXCHANGE 131
the increase both of national and individual capital produces
a sum of money, or something for which a sum of money
can be got, the similar estimation of both by a row of figures
is the thing that in this way naturally comes uppermost to
tin- mind, and hence, the things themselves in both cases
forming the increase not being immediately present to its
thoughts, it heedlessly falls into the conclusion that they
also are perfectly similar. In comparing, indeed, the national
capital as it has existed at distant periods, the small national
al of remote periods with the large national capital of
thr present, we immediately perceive, that not only the sum
at which the national wealth was formerly rated is increased,
but that the things which constituted it are changed. The
wealth of England is certainly ten times now what it was in
the reign of Henry the VIII. ; we do not conceive, however,
that it is formed by multiplying tenfold such articles as con-
stituted the sole riches of its inhabitants in that somewhat
nu It- and barbarous age. We perceive here, that there is
and must be, not only an increase but a change. When,
however, we come to consider the smaller parts of which this
iiu rease is gradually made up, as the change here is not
perhaps perceptible (and as all we see is the sum produced
ly it, the fact of the increase being more easily ascertained
than the manner of it), the similarity of the terms naturally
inclines us to conceive that it resembles the increase of
individual capital, and consists of a mere increase of things,
not of a change also in them.
CHAPTER IX.
OF INVENTION CONSIDERED AS A GENERAL
SOCIOLOGICAL PRINCIPLE.
INVENTION is the most important of the secondary agents, to
the influence of which man is subject. To us, it is the great
immediate maker of almost all that is the subject of our
thoughts, or ministers to our enjoyments, or necessities; nor is
there any portion of our existence, which is not indebted to
its antecedent forming power. Wherever it really is, it is
recognised as one and the same, by this its formative capacity.
It is always a maker, and, in a double sense, a maker. From
the depths of the infinity lying within and without us, it
brings visibly before us forms previously hidden. These are
its first works. But neither does it intend to stop, nor does
it, in fact, stop here. The forms which its eye thus catches,
and its skill " bodies forth " into material shape, pass not
away ; they remain. Things of power, true workers, drawing
to themselves, and fashioning to their semblance, the change-
able and fleeting crowd that time hurries down its stream,
they are, in truth, the only permanent dwellers in the world,
and rulers of it. In this the double power of his works, the
mathematician is as much a maker as the poet, and the poet
as the mathematician ; and genius in all its manifestations,
may, in so far, be considered as the same power, and as excited
to action by similar causes.
Our subject leads us to attend to invention, merely as it
concerns itself with the material world. But, as the motives
exciting the men in whom it is exhibited to give themselves
INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL 133
up to its requirements, must be held among the chief of the
causes of its manifestation, and as they who in this depart-
ment have been most extensively inventors, have in general
communicated little of the principles that animated and sus-
tained them in their career, science and art being silent of
themselves, we may be allowed to give wider compass to our
view, and to cite, when our purpose requires it, those who
have been real discoverers in any of the various regions over
which the power of this principle extends.
The motives, exciting to this sphere of action, are not very
apparent.
Man is essentially imitative ; his instincts impel him to
amalgamate with the mass. From the first moment of his
existence, his faculties are on the stretch, drinking greedily in
surrounding gestures, feelings, principles and modes of action,
which he again communicates ; he seems by turns a recipient
of existing impressions, and a transmitter of them to others.
Nor, unless he look far beyond himself, is there any evident
motive for his endeavoring to extricate himself from the ever-
whirling circle of which he forms a part. Hundreds of
millions have preceded him ; to learn and practise what they
have left, is the direct road to his goods, pleasure, and honor.
Why then should the individual waste the sweets of momentary
existence, in rashly and needlessly tasking his feeble powers
to form a new path, when one already exists, along which so
many have trodden, and which their footsteps have beaten
smooth ? One of the Jesuits having been asked, why the
se hal made no progress in astronomy beyond the rude
elements of the science that they had possessed from a very
>te antiquity, answers, from the indolence, and want of
application to these pursuits, of the men of succeeding ages,
an'l fmia their preferring, like those of the present day, what
they have esteemed their immediate and substantial interests,
to the vain and barren reputation of having discovered sorae-
' new. The reason, which the father Parennin assigns for
stationary state of their astronomy, may be transferred to
all their other sciences, arts, and pursuits, which fifty genera-
a have contented themselves with learning, practising, and
teaching, as they received them from men of times more
134 INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL
distant. A well weighed attention to what is for their present,
and, as they say, substantial interests, has led them to do this,
and forbid them to do more.
In that Empire, the door to wealth and honor is not abso-
lutely barred to any one, and in this it would seem superior to
other lands, that there, whoever possesses learning has a key
that will infallibly open it. Let him who would raise himself
superior to his fellows, give his youth to study, let him care-
fully make his own a due portion of the knowledge, the wit,
the eloquence, or what passes for them, stored in the volumes
his masters put in his hands. These acquirements will be the
passports to the places round which riches and distinctions
cluster. Making use of them industriously, prudently, perse-
veringly, he may certainly attain the rank of a skilful
physician, a learned jurist, a practised and ready speaker, or,
perhaps, a man versed in the constitution and policy of the
empire, fit to take on him the office of a statesman, and share
its rewards and honors. He may be attended by obsequious
crowds ready to flatter his vanity, minister to his pleasures,
conceal his weaknesses ; alive he may be honored, dead
lamented, why then abandon these sure and substantial
advantages, to pursue what there is but a chance of gaining,
and which, even if at length attained, is but empty fame, a
breath, the filling at the best,
" A certain portion of uncertain paper."
The practical wisdom of the Chinese answers at once, it
were folly.
Is that which is sound, practical wisdom among those
Asiatics, the reverse of it among us Europeans ? The reader
may determine, by casting his eyes about him, to discover who
are the men, who have been most successful in attaining
wealth, comfort, respectability ; in avoiding dependence, mis-
fortune, calumny. Whoever, or wherever, he may be, certainly
he will not find it is they who have sought to be, or have
really been, men of genius.
We in vain search for any sufficient motive exciting
to this course of action, unless the good arising from com-
municating good, and the consequent desire to be a benefactor
INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL 135
in the most extended possible manner. 1 This desire is the
proper aliment of genius. " Leave me not," the lay [has] it,
In its loneliness,
Its own still world, amid th' o'er peopled world,
Hath ever breathed to love."
When very strongly felt, it irresistibly impels those who are
conscious of capacities equal to the attempt, spite of every
obstacle to be overcome, or pain to be endured, to task them-
selves to the performance of works of permanent and diffusive
utility. To reflective minds, and large and generous natures,
the creations of genius must present themselves as of all works,
those most extensively conferring enjoyment and power, 2 and
their successful execution as of every enterprise the noblest ;
nor need we wonder that to such it should have a voice of
magical, and almost resistless attraction.
When the peasant poet of Scotland seeks to recall an
linage of his earliest self, he finds there uppermost this master
passion, this "boundless love" of his fellows and his native
land, urging him to make it appear by something worthy of it,
and marking its strength. This was the wish,
" Ev'n then a wish (I mind its power,)
A wish that, to my latest hour,
Shall strongly heave my breast,"
that led him to the realms of song. This was in truth the
genius,
"Sua cuique deus fit dira cupido,"
who " threw her inspiring mantle over him," and awakening
powers else torpid, enabled him to draw from out the vulgarity
before hiding them, images not idly falling, and to fall, on
many a heart: patriotism ardent and self-devoting; passion
is is to be received aa concerns our existence, limited to the earth and
.., the only light in which it can with propriety be considered in these
speculations. Were we to view it as belonging to the universe and to eternity,
action directed to the purposes referred to, would not be impeded from the
lerations thus presented, but would, on the contrary, derive from them
freedom and energy.
inventorum noKiiium introductio inter actiones humanas longe
primas paries tenere. LORD BACON.
136 INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL
manly yet tender ; love without the coarseness of the one class
of society, or the affectation or epicurism of the other.
Who can estimate all the effects of these hasty fragments of
the poet's art ? If we consider the subject well, and weigh it
fairly, we shall confess, that their author has exercised an
influence already greater, and far more abiding than any of the
men of his country and age. It is thus that genius manifests
the potency of the principle that inspires it, and that the
simplest lays of the simplest bard, may have a power passing
far, that of the triumphs of the statesman, or the warrior.
The one wakens energy, otherwise dead, into action, the other
merely directs that action.
" But," it may be said, and not without a show of reason,
" why, if genius is roused and moved by principles so pure,
does it happen, that the undoubted possessors of it, are them-
selves so often defaced by faults, and that we speak of them,
and their aberrations, as if naturally conjoined? Ambition,
the desire of excelling, a much more questionable motive,
would rather seem its proper stimulant."
As we are not attempting to investigate the governing
principles of classes [or individuals], but of societies, it were,
perhaps, enough in answer to observe, that the existence of
genius among a people, implies at least the diffusion of a
tincture of generous feelings, somewhere throughout the mass.
If we were to see an individual periling his own life to rescue
another from impending danger, it might be doubtful to us
whether the action proceeded from a desire of saving the
person in danger, or of the applause and praises following the
doing of it ; but that applause, and those praises, would them-
selves evince a general perception of the moral worth of such
an action, supposing it to proceed from the purest motives,
and correspondent sympathy in the pleasure likely to be
experienced from it. Vanity could receive no gratification
from a deed of this sort, where the spectators only regarded it
as an incomprehensible piece of rashness. In like manner,
though it seem to us, that many who have eminently succeeded
in the pursuits of which we speak, have been actuated merely
by the desire of gratifying a selfish vanity, still, that the
attainment of these objects should be followed by the warm
INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL 137
and sincere applause, that alone constitutes genuine fame, is a
proof at least, of the existence somewhere, of a due apprecia-
tion of the motives from which these pursuits are supposed to-
proceed, and of sympathy with the pure gratifications their
success is presumed to yield. But it enters into my design to
show, that, without supposing the two classes actuated by
different principles, there are sufficient causes for those wander-
ings as they are called, of genius from the common path, for
that contrariety of course, [and for] that seldom intermitting
opposition and strife, which have almost everywhere been
maintained, between the society in which they existed, and the
individuals, who have been ultimately the great instruments of
ameliorating and elevating its condition. Such an exposition,
removing part of the obstructions to our view, will make it
appear, that it is not so much from the diversity of the
nmvinu powers, as from the imperfections of the bodies im-
pelled, that this jarring and contrariety of action arises.
It is necessary to premise, that for the present purpose, two
es occasionally confounded together, must be kept apart.
inventors, the men whom we have alone to consider,
differ from mere transmitters of things already known. The
r are an acknowledged, and very useful class, in all
societies, but they neither encounter similar difficulties, nor
produce similar effects to the former. They neither oppose,
nor direct the current.
In the gradual progress of things, the media for communi-
cating ideas have been changed ; types have come to do, in a
great measure, the office of the voice. What in ages past
would have formed a discourse, or harangue, is now a book, or
part of a book. Among the many vast consequences of the
lution, we overlook the small one of its occasioning the
classing under one name, of those who are enlargers of the
stock of knowledge, and those who are merely efficient coin-
in unicators of portions of it. They are all successful authors,
rs, that is, of books which are read. Just so, the bard or
bards of the elder ages of ancient Greece, who first embodied
>ng the deeds of the besiegers of Troy, and they who, in
DCS, repeated the verses they had learned, were all
iters of heroic lays. Many, too, of the latter may have been
138 INVKNTION SOCIOLOGICAL
more successful chanters than the former, for they sang to ears
prepared ; but there was between them, notwithstanding, an
essential difference. There is also a line distinguishing the
mere frainers of books, from the original makers of their
materials ; it may not be very easily drawn indeed ; but this
is unnecessary for our purpose, it is sufficient to have pointed
out its existence. It may be observed, too, that as of bards,
so of authors, they who are mere compilers and repeaters, may
be more successful than they who are real inventors, they may
better suit their productions to particular times, tastes, and
exigencies, and, besides, they can always find an audience
prepared, by previous training, to applaud.
The tendency of these pursuits is to withdraw those occu-
pied in them from the daily business of society. They fill
not the places open for them, and which they are expected to
fill ; even when necessity pushes them for a time into them,
and compels them to mingle with the crowd, they are marked
as not belonging to it. Abstract and scientific truth can only
be discovered by deep and absorbing meditation ; imperfectly
at first discerned, through the medium of its dull capacities,
the intellect slowly, and cautiously, not without much of
doubt, and many unsuccessful essays, succeeds in lifting the
veil that hides it. The procedure is altogether unlike the
prompt determination, and ready confidence, of the man of
action, and generally unfits, to a greater or less degree, for
performing well the part. He, again, who dwells in the world
of possible moral beauty and perfection, moves awkwardly,
rashly, and painfully, through this of everyday life, he is ever
mistaking his own way, and jostling others in theirs. To the
possessors of fortune, these habits only give eccentricity ; they
affect those of scanty fortune, or without fortune, with more
serious ills. Unable to fight their way ably, cautiously, and
perseveringly through the bustle of life, poverty, dependence,
and all their attendant evils, are most commonly their lot.
" Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail,"
are calamities, from the actual endurance of some of which, or
the dread of it, they are seldom free. These, however, they
share with other men ; there are some peculiarly their own.
INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL 139
Pursuing objects not to be perceived by others, or if
perceived, whose importance is beyond the reach of their
conceptions, the motives of their conduct are necessarily mis-
apprehended. They are esteemed either idlers, culpably negli-
gent in turning to account the talents they have got, dullards
deficient in the common parts necessary to discharge the
common offices of life, or madmen unfit to be trusted with
their performance ; shut out from the esteem or fellowship of
those whose regard they might prize, they are brought into
contact with those with whom they can have nothing in
common, knaves who laugh at them as their prey, fools who
pity them as their fellows. Their characters misunderstood,
debarred from all sympathy, uncheered by any approbation,
tin "eternal war" they have to wage with fortune, is doubly
trying, because they are aware, that, if they succumb, they
will be borne off the field, not only unknown, but miscon-
ceived. To have merely to pass without his fame, the poet
paints as a fate capable of adding double gloom to the shades
below,
" Sed frons leeta parum, et dejecto luniina vultu,
Nox atra caput tristi circumvolat umbra."
Whut must it be to those, then, who feel that, ere final
oblivion hides them, calumny must for a time prolong the
memory of their existence ?
Imperfect man is ever prompt, without any consideration of
motives of the agents, to conceive of the evils he endures
as of wrongs received, and to be avenged, on the doers of
them. We need not wonder, then, that the manifold sufferings
nius should sometimes place it in opposition to humanity
i, and that, in the inconsistency and recklessness of
passion, it should turn in anger and in scorn, as its bitterest
enemy, on that of which it is, in heart, the truest lover.
These are circumstances, largely affecting the possessors of
faculty, even before they have succeeded in mukin
i test, before they have been able to give outward shape to
inward conceptions. There are others, operating simi-
, after they have succeeded in producing them. What is
nrw, has to encounter obstacles of two sorts. It is the
140 INVKNTION SOCIOLOGICAL
nature of men to be copiers, and, with exceedingly few excep-
tions, they are nothing more. Mere followers they are of
rules, walkers in well-beaten paths. Whatever, therefore, is
in any degree really new, being probably beyond these rules, is
also beyond their judgment. Nor is this the worst; it is also
very frequently in opposition to it ; it disagreeably disturbs
and jars the existing systems, by which men guide their feel-
Boilings. Hence the works of almost all men of
really inventive powers, have, at first, been either slighted
or decried. Cervantes, one of the most powerful and original
geniuses of modern times, and who ultimately operated as
largely on affairs as any man whom they have witnessed, was
placed by his contemporaries far below the subservient taste of
Lope de Vego, and, in his last days, had to turn from Don
(Juixote to a theme correspondent to the bombast of his age. 1
It is needless to multiply examples, in a similar walk Tasso,
and Shakspeare ; in another, Hume and Montesquieu ; in
another, Bacon and Galileo, experienced at first either com-
parative neglect, or partial, or general opposition. Few names
that now pass current, but rose with difficulty, and were nearly
again submerged in their earlier progress, by the shock of
opposing prejudices.
The practice of printing, has gradually, as it has extended
the circle of readers, produced effects on the productions of
genius, not here to be passed unnoticed. The author looks to
what he calls the public, to those, that is, who read or rather
to his own talents for producing works that will find readers
for the pecuniary rewards of his productions. This circum-
stance has had much effect, both in turning the powers of men
of talents to subjects that may generally interest, and in oblig-
ing them to treat them in a manner, suited to the tastes and
notions of the crowd.
Odi profanum vulgus et arceo,
is a sentiment that they neither avouch, nor act upon. That
1 We cannot read the romance of Peresiles and Sigesmundi, published after
his death; it had more success than any of his works. " Jamais cet hominc
cY-l< -hre," says one of his biographers, "ne fut a sa veritable place : on ded
ses talens, on meconnut ses vertus, on fut insensible a sa misere."
INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL 141
their work may be popular, men of the highest original genius
bring it out cautiously, and in a diffused form. Their experi-
ments are timid. Being, in their way, manufacturers, they
cannot afford to make such as might deteriorate the value
of their goods. They must not venture on a dish altogether
new, they confine their powers to the discovery of something
that may give piquancy to the old. If the practice be not
prejudicial to the progress of invention itself, it is fatal to the
lasting fame of the inventors. The mass keeps swelling, from
generation to generation, but how, cannot well be noted. This
result has, however, little to do with our subject ; there is
another which has much.
It being conceived to be within the compass of talent,
to procure, in this way, its own reward, genius of the highest
order, if its productions are not of a sort to bring a price from
a bookseller, receives now less recompense than even in ages
not so able [generally] to appreciate the benefits conferred by
it; and, from the same causes, the propensity to neglect it
reatest where the reading public is the most numerous.
promoters of the abstract sciences, and the arts, are no
\\ht-re less efficiently aided, than in Great Britain. There, the
observations of Lord Bacon apply nearly as forcibly as ever.
" It is enough to restrain the increase of science, that energy
and industry so bestowed, want recompense. The ability to
cultivate science, and to reward it, lies not in the same hands.
Science is advanced by men of great genius alone, while it can
only be rewarded by the crowd, or by men high in fortune or
authority, who have very rarely themselves any pretensions to
it. Besides, success in these pursuits is not only unattended
by reward or favor, but is destitute of popular praise. They
for the most part, above the conceptions of the conmion-
and are easily overthrown, and swept away, by the wind
"pular opinion. 1
itis eat ad cohebendum augmentuni acientiaruin, <|u<>d hujusmodi co-
natuH et Industrie pnumiis careant. Non cnim penes eosdem est cultura scien-
ii. et pnuinium. S< initianiin enim augmenta a tnagnis utique ingeniis
limit; et pretia et prsemia scientiarum sunt penes vulgus aut principes
iui (nisi raro admodum) vix mediocriter docti stint. (Juiucti.im hu-
jusmodi progressus, non solum pnurniis et beneticentia hominuiu, verum
Hi> INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL
Without speaking of the sciences, and, in the arts, confining
our attention to those exertions of the inventive faculty the
benefits of which, obstructed by no unforeseen obstacle, have
been very largely felt, how many, even of the most successful
of these, have been adequately rewarded ? How many of them
have left their authors in poverty, or brought them to it ! The
personal history of most men, who, in modern times, have
brought into being those arts by which human power has been
so largely advanced, is little else than a narration of misfor-
tunes, and ingratitude.
Nor are the sweets of success itself, in any department
of invention, even if tasted, imcontaminated by much of bitter-
ness. It is chiefly felt at the time, as superiority, on which
wait envy and flattery. Malice, and insincerity, the great
separators of man from man, and poisoners of the pleasures of
existence, follow close after. He who gains it, attains an eleva-
tion commanding, but joyless, and unsafe.
"Though high above the sun of glory glow,
And far beneath the earth and ocean spread,
'Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow,
Contending tempests on his naked head,
And thus reward the toils, which to those summits led." l
It is death alone that can give him the full sympathies
of his fellows. When the earth wraps her noblest, none any
longer envy him ; all lament the benefactor, no one sees
the rival or the master.
These are circumstances disturbing the course of genius,
coming mainly from misapprehensions from without ; there are
others flowing from weaknesses, and imperfections, within.
There are, in every society, rules of conduct, and practices of
life, which the progress of events has gradually marked out,
and general observance hallowed. Of these, some are founded
on the principles of morality and religion, some on caprice,
some on prejudice. The breaking of any of them is always
etiam ipsa popular! laude destituti sunt. Sunt enim illi supra captum maximae
partis hominum, et ab opinionum vulgarium ventis facile obruuntur et extin-
guuntur."
1 Childe Harold.
INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL U3
esteemed a crime against society, and in reality is so ; the ob-
servance of them constitutes a character, in public estimation,
perfect. The mere man of society, that is, the man of merely
imitative action, learns them uninquiringly, and diligently :
they make up indeed, almost all he knows, and all the interests
of himself and family requires he should know, of right and
wrong. If he transgress them, it is secretly and cautiously.
II. makes amends by unscrupulously and unsparingly gratify-
\\hatever is not forbid by the letter of his code, or by his
n\\n convenience. The inquirer into principles, again, takes a
wider range, it is not the morality or religion of Italy, of France,
of Britain, of North America, after which he seeks, but religion
and morality in general. He attempts to learn, not what is
delivered, but what is. The consequence is, that, while the
mere man of the world is never at a loss, but proceeds securely
in the direct path to general approbation, the man of specula-
tion very frequently wanders from it. To say nevertheless,
either that he knows not what is good or fit, or that he is not
desirous of observing it were untrue. The eye of the rider
glances over hill and dale, marks the streams, the woods, the
hamlets that diversify the prospect, and the whole configura-
of the country he traverses, and so he knows the road.
animal he rides knows it too; he knows it as giving exer-
to his limbs, and bringing him by every step he makes,
. ard, or right, or left, nearer to some stable-door. Ten to
one that, practically, the latter has a more accurate knowledge
of it than the former, and that, while the irrational shall saga-
ly and unhesitatingly follow it out, without missing a
turning, or making one blunder, the rational, especially if
ih' fancy take him to preserve something of a straight line,
shall have to pass from track to track, to leap many a hedge
and many a ditch, and having been obliged after all to make
ire in abundance, come out at last weary, jaded, and
bernired.
The ills which men of genius thus occasion and endure,
seeking for their rules of action, altogether in the
:ns which they perceive they have to the general system
of human society, without sufficiently regarding those which
necessarily connect them to the little system of some particular
144 INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL
society, are merely errors in the actual course pursued, not in
the motives from which that course was adopted. There are
others more fatal, coming, not from mistakes in action, but
from errors in the motives to action, and from the imagination
that it may be allowable willingly to do a small evil, if a large
amount of good follow it. This is unquestionably a moral
error, to which men of high powers must, from the conscious-
ness of these powers, be peculiarly liable. It were painful to
bring forward instances of their succumbing to the temptation. 1
It is thus that a power, which seems to be at first wakened
to life, and to draw its earliest aliment, from the promptings
of strong desires in man, to unite himself extensively with his
fellow men, to exist with them, and for them, rather than in
himself, as it gathers strength, and predominates in any indi-
vidual, generally renders him so dissimilar to other men, in
his feelings, habits, motives, and modes of action, that it in a
1 It is strange that Cicero, as in the following passage, should seem to coun-
tenance this most common and dangerous of moral sophisms. " Quid ? si
Phalarim, crudelem tyf annum et immanem, vir bonus, ne ipse frigore confi-
ciatur, vestitu spoliare possit ; nonne faciat? Haec ad judicandum sunt facil-
lima. Nam, si quid ab homine ad nullam par tern utili, tuae utilitatis causa de-
traxeris : inhumane feceris, contraque naturae legem : sin autem is tu sis, qui
multam utilitatem reipublicae atque hominum societati, si in vita remaneas,
afferre possis, si quid ob earn causam alteri detraxeris, non sit reprehenden-
dum. Communis utilitatis derelictio contra naturam est, est enim injusta.
itaque lex ipsa naturae, quse utilitatem hominum conservat et continet, de-
cernit profecto, ut ab homine inerti atque inutili, ad sapientem, bonum, for-
temque virum transferantur res ad vivendum necessariae : qui si occiderit,
multum de communi utilitate detraxerit." De Ojfitiis, L. III.
Such reasoning, followed fairly out, would not stop until it assumed the
form which Sir Walter Scott has given it, in the speech of Anselmo.
" You are to distinguish, my son," replied the alchymist, "betwixt that
which is necessarily evil in its progress and in its end also, and that which
being evil, is, nevertheless, capable of working forth good. If, by the death of
one person, the happy period shall be brought nearer us, in which all that is
good shall be attained, by wishing its presence, all that is evil escaped, by
desiring its absence, etc. If this blessed consummation of all things can be
hastened by the slight circumstance, that a frail earthly body, which must
needs partake of corruption, shall be consigned to the grave a short space
earlier than in the course of nature, what is such a sacrifice to the advance-
ment of the holy millenium." Kenilworth, c. XXII.
A living author, in the character of Eugene Aram, gives also a striking
picture of the dangerous tendency of the same sophistry.
INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL 145
great measure separates him from them. Whatever he may
be, or may hope to be as an inventor, or author, as a man he
is misconceived and misapprehended. Among the men with
whom he lives, he lives as not of them, a magic circle is drawn
round him which neither he can pass without, nor they,
within. Like the attractive and repulsive powers, which one
uetic influence communicates to matter of the same sort,
the different direction in which the great moving and cement-
I'rinciple of society has been made to flow in him, and in
them, incessantly repels, and keeps him at a distance from
tlu.Mll.
This disjunction and isolation affect various natures vari-
ously. Some cannot endure it ; they cannot live but in the
constant and intimate sympathy and communion of their
fellows. They feel all the loneliness, and little of the grandeur
of the desert. They pant for the land of life, and either turn-
in. L, to it, are lost in it, their former existence being remem-
bered but as the wanderings of a dream ; or they perish, from
their incapacity to mingle with it. Their finer and gentler
natures fed, but not strengthened by contemplation, recoil
from the coarse and boisterous spirits, with whom they are
brought into contact. They sink in the conflict and pass
:i life itself,
" A precious odour cast
On a wild stream, that recklessly sweeps by ;
ice of music uttered to the blast,
And winning no reply."
To others of firmer mould, the action of these alternately
icting and repelling powers, the passing from one state of
being to another completely opposite, from the turmoil of
:t excited by braving and bearing back a world opposed,
:ie concentration of contemplative solitude, though wasting.
is invigorating. Like steel which is first made to glow in
;ind then plunged in water, the fineness of their temper
is brought out by the play of opposing elements. It is
observed by Mr. Moore, in his life of Lord Byron, that but for
the opposition he encountered, the noble poet had never stood
in ini.uht; that persecution found him, as Rousseau,
weak, left him strong.
146 INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL
Some, again, the world without affording no resting place,
entrench themselves in the world within. Their excursions
outwards, are carried on as into a country permanently hostile.
To insult, to attack, to overthrow, not to subdue, or establish,
is their aim. These are the skeptics, meu seemingly abandon-
ing every other hope but that of making manifest their power,
a power that has often been greater than they themselves have
conceived, and which, doubtless, would many times have been
more happily exerted, had they found themselves in happier
circumstances. When we read, for instance, the speculations
of Hume, we do not always recollect that he had been a needy
dependent brother of a Scotch land-holder, had failed in the
only attempt he had ever made to establish himself in the
world, by entering on business, and had come to middle life,
known only as a bookish recluse, unable to do good, and only
to be tolerated, because he was too inoffensive to do harm to
any one. Such an existence may well account for much of
that shrinking within himself, that absence of all heart, that
habitual distrust, rather rejoicing to overthrow, than hoping to
establish, which characterize his philosophy. Who can tell
how great has been the influence of that philosophy, in pro-
ducing what has been, what is, and what is to be, in Britain
and in Europe ? Of this we may be assured, that they are
least aware of it, who are most affected by it.
There are yet others of higher minds, who, through hopes
disappointed, and errors committed, over the waste of the
world, and the ruins of their own hearts, can look confidently
and courageously forward, to a brighter, though far distant
prospect. It is in this spirit that Lord Bacon bequeaths his
fame to posterity, and it is through it, that he, who has been
to us so notable a benefactor, yet holds converse with us. The
manly and generous confidence with which he relies on the
better parts of human nature, and, in the midst of so many
discouraging circumstances looks forward to the ultimate reign
of truth and happiness, constitutes indeed, I may be allowed
to remark, no small part of the charm, and perhaps of the
utility of his speculations.
But, however the opposition between men of practice, and
men of speculation and invention may operate, it certainly
INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL 147
exists, and there are perhaps few of the latter, who have been
gifted with dispositions so happy, or fallen in times so for-
tunate, as not to have experienced some of its evils. Never-
theless, if the view which has been presented be correct, this
opposition between the two classes, the one engaged in the
application of what is already known to the production of
the means of supplying future necessities or pleasures, the
other, in the discovery of something yet unknown and
which may serve the same purposes, arises, not so much
from a difference in the motives to action, as from a diversity
in the modes of action: and the principles of our nature
ing to the advance of invention, would seem to be nearly
identical with those giving activity to the effective desire
of accumulation.
The difference between the two is rather in degree than
in kind. He who labors to provide the means of enjoyment
to wife, children, relations, friends, pursues an end in some
degree selfish. It is his own wife, his own children, his own
relations, whom he desires to benefit. The fruits of the labors
of genius, on the contrary, are the property of the whole
human race. On this account, though, in the individual,
manifestations of the inventive faculty imply a superiority
me of the intellectual powers, they rather imply, in the
society, a preponderance of the social and benevolent affections.
It is this general acuteness of moral sensation, and lively
sympathy consequently with the pleasures arising to the
individual, from the success of exertions for purposes of general
good, that can alone excite, and nourish, the enthusiasm of
genius. 1
'[In these last two paragraphs Rae seems to run sociological and economic
considerations together, with a result which is not altogether correct.
The difference between the two sets of motives under consideration is,
apparently, one not of degree but of kind. We must certainly admit
that those who in our society, especially during the last two centuries,
have made the most wonderful and useful "application of what is
Already known to the production of the means of supplying future neces-
sities or pleasures" those who have in our own day given us not the
knowledge of the properties of electricity, but the incandescent light and
the trolley are as a rule men of a certain " practical " type of character,
who have done this work undoubtedly for money and the things money
148 INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL
But, though there are two of the circumstances giving
strength to the principle of accumulation, on which the pro-
gress of the inventive faculty is equally dependent, there
are yet a set of causes, the effects of which, while they
paralyze the exertions of the one, rouse the other to activity.
Whatever disturbs, or threatens to disturb, the established
order of things, by exposing the property of the members
of the society to danger, and diminishing the certainty
of its future possession, diminishes also the desire to accumu-
late it. Intestine commotions, persecutions, wars, internal
oppression, or outward violence, either, therefore, altogether
destroy, or at least very much impair, the strength of the
effective desire of accumulation. On the contrary, they excite
the inventive faculty to activity. The excessive propensity
to imitation, which is natural to man, seems the only means
by which we can account for this diversity of effects. Men
are so much given to learning, that they do not readily become
discoverers. They have received so much, that they do not
easily perceive the need of making additions to it, or readily
turn the vigor of their thoughts in that direction. "They
seem neither to know well their possesions, nor their powers ;
but to believe the former to be greater, the latter less, than
they really are." 1 Whatever, therefore, breaks the wonted
order of events, and exposes the necessity, or the possibility,
of connecting them by some other means, strongly stimulates
invention. The slumbering faculties rouse themselves to meet
the unexpected exigence, and the possibility of giving a new
and more perfect order to elements not yet fixed, animates to
a boldness of enterprise, which were rashness, had they as-
sumed their determined places. Hence, as has often been
remarked, periods of great changes in kingdoms or govern-
ments, are the seasons when genius breaks forth in brighest
will bring. To make money, it must be remembered, is with us the
conventional standard of success in the realm of affairs.
But when all is said, Eae's teaching holds without a flaw in one re-
spect, and that is, that every institution and individual activity, economic
and otherwise, is carried on, and has its being, in the environment of
the general moral order.]
1 Novum Organum.
INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL 149
lustre. The beneficial effects of what are termed revolutions,
are, perhaps, chiefly to be traced, to their thus wakening the
torpid powers ; the troubling of the waters they bring about,
undoes the palsy of the mind. 1
On this account courage distinguishing well between things
difficult and things impossible, and calmly estimating them
not as they appear to vulgar prejudices, but as they are,
us to be a necessary element in the composition of genius
of a high order. Without the possession of such a faculty, it
is impossible clearly to discern the things which changes have
brought to light or produced, or to make free use of them.
The comparison which Lord Bacon makes between Alexander
the Great and himself, is far from being forced. Neither
could have accomplished what he did, had he not been able to
despise what had only a vain show, and to discover and trust
to real though underrated powers. 2
[It may be worth while to add to this chapter a fragment
of liae's unpublished manuscript which runs as follows : ]
" It is through his intellectual and reasoning powers that
man has the capacity to call into existence what are called
the advances of the arts. But these, his intellectual and
reasoning energies, do not rouse themselves to such enterprises,
but seem to be dormant within him unless excited by his
feelings, emotions, passions. In the absolute solitude of the
wilderness, where his soul is stirred by none of these, he
degenerates nearly to the level of the brute, seeking only food
'[See "Note L" in the Appendix.]
*"Atque hac in parte nobis apondemua fortunam Alexandri Magni :
neque quia noa vanitatia arguat, antequam exitum rei audiat, qua ad
exuendam omnem vanitatem apectat.
"Etenim de Alexandra et ejus rebua geatia Machines ita loquutua eat:
No* certe vitam mortalem non vivimua ; aed in hoc nati aumua, ut poateritas
de nobis portenta narret et predicet : perinde ac si Alexandri res gestaa
'uiraculo habuiaaet.
vt aril sequentibua Titua Liviua meliua rem advertit et introapexit,
atqae de Alexandra hujuamodi quippiam dixit : Eum non aliud <|ii.m.
bene auaum vana contemnere. Atque simile etiam de nob is judirium
futuria temporibua factum iri exiatimamua : Noa nil magni feciaae, aed
tan turn ea qua pro magnia habentui. minoris feciaae."
150 INVENTION SOCIOLOGICAL
and protection from the inclemencies of the weather. It is
in society alone that he finds those influences that move and
feed his moral and intellectual nature, and give him his proper
life. He is in fact the creature of society, and all his passions,
emotions, feelings, may in one sense be considered as so many
social instincts binding him to it. Now in herding animals,
and in this regard man is a herding animal, it is not the
individual but the herd that moves. If the individual attempt
a separate and independent movement [beyond a certain point],
he is sure to find that it is ineffectual as to the herd, and
dangerous to himself. If one blessed or cursed with keener
eyes and a more sagacious nose than his fellows discover in
the distance fresher and greener pastures, and direct his
course to them, he becomes a wanderer from the flock, a stray
one, a lost one. It is the same among men. One whose
powers transcends those of his fellows and who, trusting to them,
advances far beyond them, is so bedimmed to their eyes by the
mists of distance that they think he has gotten out of this
real, living, and tangible world, and is walking in the clouds, is
wandering in the unreal splendors of fairy land. It is only
when by chance the course of subsequent events brings them
to the spot where they discern the marks of his footsteps, that
they say one to another, why, such a one was not in the
clouds at all : he was walking on solid ground. How blind
was man in those days ! Such a one is said to have come
before his time, or, which is much the same thing, to have
been out of place."
CHAPTER X.
OF THE CAUSES OF THE PROGRESS OF INVENTION AND
OF THE EFFECTS ARISING FROM IT, AS IT CONCERNS
KLF WITH THE MATERIAL WORLD.
INVENTION is the only power on earth that can be said to
:e. J It enters as an essential element into the process of
increase of national wealth, because that process is a
creation, not an acquisition. It does not necessarily enter
into the process of the increase of individual wealth, because
thiit may be simply an acquisition, not a creation.
Would we take time to consider of it, we must perceive
such an increase of national capital as individuals [usually]
make of individual capital, 2 is at least, unlikely, seeing there
is no apparent cause for it. Considering capital in general,
only use we can discover for it is its enabling the com-
munity to draw from the resources the country affords, the
necessaries, conveniences, and amusements of life, its supply
hich, according to our author, constitutes its real wealth.
only so far as it is instrumental to this end that we can
see a use, and therefore find a reason, for its existence. Now,
ike use of the term creation, because that of production, which other-
wise I should have preferred, has been employed in another sense. I trust my
s will not be misconceived. M Kt i.im invents quasi novae creationcs sunt,
urn operum imitamenta, ut bene cecinit ille :
" Primum frugiferos fcetus mortalibus agris
Dididerant quondam pra-stanti nomine Athenae :
Et recreaverunt vitam, legesqne rogarunt."
Koimm Orpanum, CXXIX.
That is, a mere "accumulation," or "multiplication of items."]
152 INVENTION ECONOMIC
as one individual is more provident and prudent than another,
we can easily conceive how one may come to procure for
himself a greater share than another of the national funds, the
means, or instruments, serving to unlock the stores which
the nation [already] possesses ; but it is not so easy to con-
ceive how, or for what purpose, a general increase of these
means or instruments should take place, without some accom-
panying discovery of an improvement in their construction by
which they may put additional stores within reach of the nation.
We may easily perceive this, by attending to any of the
numerous small items of which the national capital is com-
posed. I shall take an example of a very small one. The
only instrument used for threshing out grain in Great Britain,
until of recent years, was the flail. Hence one or more flails
formed a part, though a small part, of every farmer's capital,
and therefore all the flails that all the farmers had, a part,
though an exceedingly inconsiderable part, of the national
capital. So simple an instrument and one so easily formed,
was made, I believe, generally, by the farmer or his servants,
though sometimes by professed mechanics. In whatever way
fabricated, it is evident, however, that the number of flails
made, though from the convenience of having a supply pro-
vided beforehand they would exceed, could never much ex-
ceed, the number of persons employed in the operation of
threshing. A professed flail-maker, indeed, if diligent and
intelligent, might, by the aid of these qualities, have been able
to make them cheaper than his neighbors, and, if economical,
to extend his business and come to have some amount of
capital in this shape. But, though thus, by his industry and
frugality, an individual might have accumulated capital under
this form to an extent to which we can set no precise limits,
the national capital never could have been so increased,
because, if one person by greater diligence and activity made
more flails, another, from a deficiency of these qualities, would
make fewer ; or, if we suppose all the makers of the instru-
ment to be alike industrious, and thus the stock of it to
accumulate so as to do more than supply the wants of the
threshers, the article would remain on their hands, and they
would naturally cease to produce the superabundant supply.
INVENTION ECONOMIC 153
While, therefore, the instrument retained this less perfect form,
it is, I think, pretty evident, that, though individuals might
accumulate capital by making flails, neither the national
capital, nor the national revenue, would be much increased
by their efforts so directed.
About forty years ago, the easier and more perfect method
of executing this process, by what is called the threshing
machine, was invented. This new instrument, though far
more expensive than the former, yet, performing the operation
more effectually, and with much less labor, became naturally
things which farmers were desirous of having. A farmer could
have had no motive to accumulate but a very trifling capital
in the shape of flails, because half a dozen were as useful to
him as half a thousand ; but he had a great motive to accumu-
late a considerable capital in the shape of a threshing machine,
because it would save him much annual expenditure of labor,
ami the operation so performed, separating the grain more
effectually, would give him a small addition to the corn yielded
ly his subsequent crops. Accordingly its invention was fol-
<l by the accumulation in this form of a large amount of
al, and so by an increase of the whole agricultural capital
of the nation. But, besides this direct effect, the saving it
produced in one of the main processes of agriculture augmented
profits of the farmers, and tended, therefore, to make all
ers cultivate their farms more perfectly, and some to-
_je in improving land not before cultivated. Both the
direct and the indirect effects of this invention, therefore,
must have helped, in no inconsiderable degree, to augment the
agricultural capital, and so the whole capital of the nation. 1
It readily occurs to every individual that the quantity of
hardware, the number of pots and pans, is in every country
limited by the use which there is for them ; that it would be
absurd to have more of such utensils than are necessary for
cooking the victuals usually consumed there ; and that, if the
tity of victuals were to increase, the number of pots and
pans would readily increase alon^ with it, a part of the in-
creased quantity of victuals being employed in purchasing
i, or in maintaining an additional number of workmen
'[In this paragraph Rae closely follows Lauderdale. ]
154 INVENTION ECONOMIC
whose business it was to make them." l But, though the
national capital cannot thus be supposed to accumulate in the
shape of an additional number of pots and pans [of any
fixed type], individuals who deal in hardware frequently
accumulate capitals in this shape, to a large amount. We
can easily conceive, that the national capital also might
accumulate in this shape, were some discovery, producing MM
improvement in the manufacture, to occur. Were a method
discovered of procuring and manufacturing platina, or some
metal similar to it, at only four or five times the cost of
brass, it would, without doubt, be employed in the fabrica-
tion of kitchen utensils of all sorts. Not being acted on by
fire, and other destroying agents, it would save a great deal
of the drudgery of the kitchen, and, though more costly at
first, would probably, on the whole, be preferred by good
economists. Thus, pots and pans becoming more expensive
articles, the amount of national capital, or stock, accumulated
in them, would be much greater, and, through this improve-
ment, the whole national capital would, with advantage to
the society, be somewhat augmented. 2
If any one will, in a similar manner, consider any of the
other articles which help to make up the national capital, I
think he will have difficulty in assigning a sufficient reason,
from any of the views presented in the Wealth of Nations,
for its increase, unless he connect this increase, somehow or
another, with some improvement in the particular department
of industry of which its production makes a part, or in some
other department dependent on it. He will perceive, that,
though there is no difficulty in conceiving that an individual
may accumulate a very large capital in the form of any of
those articles or commodities, the total of which make up
the national capital ; with the exception, perhaps, of money
itself, there is difficulty in discovering a reason for the accumu-
lation of any of them, throughout the whole community, so as
to form any sensible addition to the national capital.
It may perhaps appear, that, in whatever shape the indi-
vidual members of the community may accumulate capital,
1 Wealth of Nations, B. IV. c. I.
2 [For use of terms, see the end of the chapter.]
INVENTION ECONOMIC 155
yet, that the efforts of the greater number being thus directed,
they might accumulate it under some shape or another. We
are not, however, it will be recollected, here discussing a
possibility, but a self-evident principle; not what might be,
but what must be. Now, there is no necessity for imagining
that this must be the case, for, without entering at all into the
minima.' of the subject, it is not difficult to perceive that the
action of the principle which prompts to save, itself brings
about a state of things, which diminishes the desire to save.
A person must be most desirous of getting money when he
perceives, that by the acquisition of it, he could make a great
deal out of it ; when it is manifest to him, that, if he had a
sufficient capital, he could enter on some branch of business
that would be very profitable. When an opening of this sort
presents itself to a prudent and enterprising, though poor man,
the exertions he makes to gather together a small sum are
sometimes almost incredible. But, if the principle were to
prevail so generally as to fill up every branch of business
within the society, the desire to acquire capital so as to enter
on some of the particular businesses carried on in the society
would naturally be diminished throughout the whole country ;
and this general diminution of the motives to accumulate,
it be sufficient to preserve the national capital within the
bounds it had acquired, and prevent it, for a time, from gaining
farther increase.
r is there any thing in the appearance of human affairs,
which should induce us to conclude that the increase of
>nal capital ever does, in fact, proceed, unless in con-
junction with some successful effort of the inventive faculty,
improvement of some of the employments formerly
practised in the community, or some discovery of new arts.
Ii we cast our eyes over the results which either reading or
observation presents to us, concerning the condition of different
>ns, we gather from our review, that many of them, in
regard to the acquisition of wealth, have apparently remained
<>nary for ages, although undisturbed by external violence,
and unmolested by internal tumults. During all the time,
however, the process <>1 individual accumulation was going on;
men were continually rising from poverty to affluence, founding
156 INVENTION ECONOMIC
families, and leaving wealth to their descendants : but this
wealth passed away from them ; what the father gathered was
not able to maintain his race, and they gradually sank to the
rank from which he had emerged. The proportion, meantime,
between rich and poor, and the total wealth of the community,
remained but little changed.
At length, in some quarter or another, an improvement
began to be perceived. What do we find to have been the
most prominent accompaniment of this change ? Is it a
diminished expenditure an increased parsimony a frugality
before unknown ? I believe not. Any great diminution of
the expenditure of a whole community, it will be found
difficult to trace, but we shall always discover that invention
has somehow or another been busy, either in improving agri-
culture and the other old arts, or in discovering new ones.
It is only when some great and striking improvement issues
from the exertions of the inventive power, that we in general
attend to its effects. Every one readily grants, that, but for
the invention of the steam engine, the capital of Great Britain
would want much of its present vast amount. We perceive
not so readily the numerous small improvements, which have
been gradually, from year to year, spreading themselves through
every department of the national industry. But, though not so
palpably forced on our observation, we pass them by, they never-
theless exist, and sufficiently account for the manner in which
the national capital has been augmenting, by being gradually
accumulating in them, without the necessity of supposing that
it ever has augmented precisely as that of individuals generally
does, by a simple multiplication, under the same form, of any
or all the items of which its amount was before made up. 1
Adam Smith himself admits, that a country may come to be
fully stocked in proportion to all the business it has to
x [Rae goes too far here and gives improperly a collectivist bias to the whole
discussion. Because individuals may increase their capital merely by a process
of simple multiplication (or, as he calls it elsewhere, by a process of "acquisi-
tion" in contrast to one of " creation"), it does not follow that "generally "
they do so accumulate. The antithesis should not be between the individual
and society, but between the principles of invention and mere acquisitive
accumulation (which Rae himself brings out later), working in different
individuals. After all, it is the individual who invents, not society.]
INVENTION ECONOMIC 157
transact, and have as great a quantity of stock employed, in
every particular branch, as the nature and extent of the
territory will admit. He speaks of Holland also, as a country
which had then nearly acquired its full complement of riches ;
where, in every particular branch of business, there was the
greatest quantity of stock that could be employed in it. 1 It
Id then appear that, even according to him, the principle of
individual accumulation, as a means of advancing the national
capital, has limits beyond which it cannot pass. The same
not be said of that increase which is derived from the
attainment of those objects at which the inventive faculty aims.
Had Holland, sixty years ago, been put in possession of the
astonishing improvements in mechanical and manufacturing
industry, which, since that period, have sprung up in Great
Britain, who can suppose that she would have wanted ability
to continue in the successful pursuit of wealth ; or, that she
would not have started forward with fresh vigor in the career,
and advanced in it with greater rapidity than in any former
period of her history ?
There is no avoiding the admission, that, to every great
advance which nations make in the acquisition of wealth, it is
necessary that invention leading to improvement should lend
its aid ; and, granting this, it necessarily follows (as when one
^ause is discovered sufficient to account for the phenomena, we
-h'.iild confine ourselves to it), that we are not warranted to
assume that they make even the smallest sensible progress
without the aid of the same faculty.
To this general observation there are only two apparent ex-
ceptions. The progress of commerce by the increase of some
icular branch of it, or by the opening of fresh branches ;
and the settlement of new countries.
If these, however, should be esteemed exceptions to the obser-
vation with regard to any particular nation or nations, they are
extensions of it with regard to all the nations of the earth ; im-
:ig that the increase of general wealth is connected with
the general spread of invention, or inventions, over the world. 2
> alth of Nation*, B. I., c. IX
'[The two foregoing interpolations are from Bk. I., Chap. I., of the
original ; the first from p. 15, the second from pp. 1 !--'. j
158 INVENTION ECONOMIC
Besides the circumstances determining the progress of in-
vention arising from the nature of man, the inventor, there
are others depending on the modes in which the principles of
that nature are excited to exert themselves in this sphere of
action, and gradually to discern and develope the qualities and
powers of the various divisions of the material world.
The surface of the earth presents a vast variety of materials.
Soils, climates, minerals, vegetables, the fish of the waters, the
birds of the air, and the beasts of the field, are endlessly diver-
sified, and, could we bring back the surface of the globe to the
state in which it existed when man first made his appearance
on it, we should probably scarcely find any two points in all
respects alike.
This diversity of materials seems to have been [originally]
the great exciting cause to the progress of art and science, men
having been every now and then compelled or induced to
adopt new materials, and, as they changed from the one to the
other, to have been gradually led from the knowledge of the
most simple and obvious qualities and powers, to a perception
of those which are more complex, and difficult to discern.
Tracing any invention upwards to its first beginnings,
shall discover that these have been exceedingly rude and
imperfect, proceeding from the simplest, and what would seem
to us, the most obvious observations ; and that it has advanced
towards perfection, by having been led to change the materials
with which it originally operated, and passing from one to
another, has at each step of its progress discovered new quali-
ties and acquired new powers.
I believe a lengthened inquiry into the history of inventions
would lead to the following conclusions :
1st. Arts change materials. It having become difficult or
impossible for men to obtain the materials with which they
had been accustomed to operate [in any branch of industry],
they have been led to adopt others, and, retaining the know-
ledge of the qualities and powers of the old, have added to-
them those of the new.
2d. Different arts adopt the same materials. Men have
been encouraged to operate with new materials, from materials
being presented to them evidently better suited to their
INVENTION ECONOMIC
purposes than the old, could they be made submissive to
their art.
3d. The operation of these circumstances has slowly dimin-
ished the propensity of mankind to servile imitation, and given a
beginning to science, by bringing to light the qualities and powers
common to many materials the general principles of things.
The limited objects of the present inquiry, however, forbid
our entering into the lengthened train of speculation, that
would be necessary fully to establish these conclusions by an
adequate investigation of the progress of inventions. I shall
content myself with adducing a sufficient number of instances
to show, that this continual change has been a circumstance
operating very beneficially and efficiently, in enlarging the
bounds of human knowledge and power.
When men are deprived of the materials with which they
i to operate in the production of necessaries, and between
them and want have only such as are similar, but not the
same, one of two things must happen. They must either
uer the difficulties of the new matter, or must perish. In
the earlier ages of the world, it is scarce to be doubted, that
the latter event was of not infrequent occurrence. Tribes
forced from their homes by more powerful tribes, must have
been often led by hope, or driven by despair, into regions that
had not before yielded to the dominion of man. But the
materials which different regions present to human industry,
are very seldom precisely alike. The new would differ from
the old, in being in some respects worse, in others better
adapted to its purposes, than they. The difficulties are much
more apparent than the benefits, the former having generally to
be overcome, before the latter be apprehended, or distinctly
perceived. The attempt, then, would probably never be made,
Inn for the promptings of necessity. Its success has two
advantages. The subjection of the obstacles carries the invcn-
faculty a step farther forward ; the larger returns made,
.-,' to the circumstances in which the new material is
rior, in- rcase the rewards of industry. As the success of
the attempt would advance the skill and the power of those
who made it, so its failure would abandon them to famine. In
the former case, the individuals whose intelligence and courage
160 INVENTION ECONOMIC
overcame the obstacles, would be exalted by posterity into
gods and demi-gods ; in the latter, the field would remain open
to more successful essays, in other times, and by other races.
An inquiry, however, into the progress of the arts essential to
the existence of man in any form of society, would carry us
back to ages too remote, and involved in an obscurity too deep
to penetrate.
None of the arts which are not necessary to the preservation
of human existence itself, has probably had greater influence
on the modes which that existence has assumed, than metal-
lurgy. Without the metals, it would be impossible for the
series of instruments to be continued from which the wants of
civilized society are supplied, and without them, consequently,
mankind could never have emerged from barbarism. There
are few arts, either, in which the processes have probably at
first been more rude, in which they have ultimately attained
greater perfection of skill, or in which the progress has been
more gradual, and more dependent for its advance on the
variety of the materials operated upon. Some metals are
found in quantity pure ; the ores of some are easily reduced, of
others, with great difficulty. Of all the substances he attempts
to classify, none, from their number and variety, give greater
trouble to the mineralogist. The discovery of the qualities of
such portions of these metals as were found pure, would soon
make them be considered as the most useful of substances, and
occasion their being sought after with avidity. The supply
of them in this state being exhausted, or they who had
employed them moving into regions where they could no
longer be found, recourse would gradually be had to the
less pure and less easily reduced ores, and from thence to
metals and ores wrought with still greater difficulty. Thus
we find that gold, silver, and copper, the metals that most
frequently occur native, were those first in use ; iron came
last, and was probably then esteemed the most precious.
Weapons of gold and silver were edged with it, in the same
manner as were wooden implements, such as the old English
spade, in more recent days. But for the gentleness of the
ascent, it is altogether likely, that the art would never have
attained the eminence it has gained. Had the earth, for in-
INVENTION ECONOMIC 161
stance, possessed no metallic stores but the more abundant ores
of iron, by far the most useful in the present days, it seems not
unlikely, that no metal would ever have been wrought. The
steps by which it rose, were, however, too numerous, and the
vestiges left of them are too indistinct, for me to attempt here
to trace them, were I even prepared so to do. I prefer rather, in
illustration of the subject, to refer to an art which has been in prae-
tor thousands of years, and to an implement in daily use.
The plough, in its most simple form, is an instrument the
invention of which would naturally follow the domestication of
the ox species. Men accustomed to loosen and stir the earth,
with the inefficient implements of that ancient period, could
6 in time fail to remark, that the sluggish strength of
this animal might aid them in the operation. They seem to
have turned it to this purpose, by a very simple contrivance.
A long crooked sapling, similar to the clubs used by boys in
some of their games, but larger, had its thick, curved end
sharpened to a point, and its other extremity attached to
something like what is now called a yoke, coupling two oxen
by the neck. The long straight part of the implement passed
between the animals, the part turned downwards rested on the
earth behind them, and when they moved forward, along soil
very easily impressed, would mark it with a furrow, which
miu'ht be deepened by a man walking close after, and pressing
it downwards. He was assisted in this operation by the
addition of a handle projecting upwards, the point was hardened
by the action of the fire, and another person guided the oxen.
Such was probably the earliest plough, and those that are used
in many parts of the east, to this day, differ not much from it,
with the exception of the point being defended by a sort of iron
tooth, and the wood not having a natural, but an artificial
curvature. In Java, a man when he has done his day's work,
ies home his plough on his shoulder, as a woodman does
his axe. The defects of such an implement are to us very
; It only scratches the soil, it cannot make what we call
a furrow, and it is only very light, sandy soil, or the sort of
mini in which rice is cultivated, on which it is at all capable
of acting. As the quantity of this sort of soil is in all parts
of the world limited, men were gradually forced to attempt the
L
162 INVENTION ECONOMIC
tillage of land more difficult to subdue. Over the greater
part of Asia, they have done so, by a simple enlargement and
strengthening of the first rude implement. The model im-
mediately before their eyes seems to have so confined their
powers of invention, that they attempted no change but this.
In that part of the world, if we except China, and the countries
bordering on Europe, the earth is consequently scratched, or at
best stirred, it is not in our sense of the word ploughed. The
improvements which we have made in the operation are two-
fold ; the first concerns the effect produced on the soil, and the
second, the ease with which it is produced. The furrow we
form makes each portion of soil operated upon, describe about
one third of a circle, thus blending all the parts of the surface
together, leaving it very open, and placing the vegetable fibres
in the position best suited to induce decay. The turn, too,
thus given to each portion, puts it out of the way of the next,
which is therefore, with comparative ease, moved into its proper
position.
It seems not to have beeii until the instrument got to
Europe, that it assumed a form capable of executing such an
operation. Such was probably the Roman plough, the wood-
work of which is thus described by Virgil :
" Continue in sylvis magna vi flexa domatur
In burim, et curvi formam accipit ulraus aratri,
Huic a stirpe pedes temo protentus in octo,
Binae aures, duplici aptantur dentalia dorso.
Ca?ditur et tilia ante jugo levis, altaque fagns,
Stivaque, quse currus a tergo torqueat imos ;
Et suspensa focis explorat robora fumus.
An elm bent with great strength in the woods, is forced
into a buris and receives the form of the crooked plough. To
it are fitted the temo stretched out eight feet from the lower
end, the two aures, the dentalia with the double back, and the
stiva which bends the lower part of the plough behind. The
light lime tree is felled beforehand, for the yoke, and the lofty
beech for the other parts, and the smoke seasons the wood
hung up above the fire." 1
I see not that this buris, which has given some of the
1 Georgic I. 170. Translated by Adam Dickson, Husbandry of the. Ancient '^
INVENTION ECONOMIC 163
commentators a little trouble, can be any thing else than the
original crooked sapling, here swollen to a large elm knee, form-
ing the body of the plough, inflexi grave robur aratri, and to
which all the other parts are appended. From it, instead of
the longer straight part of the sapling, stretched forward a
separate piece, termed the temo or pole, and the stiva, or handle,
was retained. So far there was very little difference from the
original instrument, but in the aures, the ears, we have the
beginnings of the mould board, and there is a place for the
reception of the vomer, the large cutting iron share. These
appendages, the more difficult soil of some parts of Italy prob-
ably introduced ; and when adopted in one part, they could
scarce fail to spread over it all.
The plough thus changed into an instrument for turning
over, not merely stirring the soil, was carried by the Romans
into other, and more northern regions, and transmitted to
other races. These and subsequent revolutions, obliterated the
imitation of the original curved sapling. The curve became an
angle formed by a short downright beam or pillar, the sheath
or forehead, fitted into the shortened pole or temo, and bearing,
as before, the chief stress of the draft. Greater symmetry and
lightness were thus given to it. The mould board gradually
attained its present form, the coulter and another handle were
added. In recent days, it has been made nearly altogether of
iron. In Britain, where this revolution in the material was
introduced, it is deserving of notice that the metal implement,
that its parts are slenderer, is an exact copy of the
wooden one. There is yet too the sheath. In some, at least,
of the American iron ploughs, the sole connexion between the
upper and lower parts, unless that given by the mould boards
Ives, is a strong bolt screwing tight. For a plough of
such materials, this last metamorphosis of the original saplinu
>ris, would seem the better construction.
Thus, the moving of this implement from one region and
people to another, the consequent adaptation of it to different
and more difficult soils, and the change of the materials of
which it is formed, seem to have been the occasions of its
successive improvement. They have stimulated the faculty of
ition, and weakened the propensity to servile imitation.
164 INVENTION ECONOMIC
The instrument, so changed, it may be remarked, is on its
return to countries in which, perhaps, it first assumed form.
English ploughs are to be seen in India, and some modification
of them must, in time, become the general plough of the
country.
Our next example of the effects of these circumstances on
the development of the inventive faculty, will be taken from
the progress of sacred architecture. It conspicuously exhibits
the strength of the principle itself, and the trammels by which
its energies are sometimes confined.
When men worship the deity, they find their devotional
dispositions assisted by the presence of external objects, par-
taking of his attributes. Thus, whatever brings sensibly
before us the ideas of very great power, and unlimited dura-
tion, fills the mind with thoughts that are very near akin to
devotion. Hence, men in almost all ages and countries, have
either made choice of particular natural objects, inspiring such
ideas, as concomitants of their devotions, they have wor-
shipped turning to the sun, or in groves, or on the tops of
mountains ; or they have formed things, having in their con-
ceptions a sort of unison, in this way, with the object of their
worship.
Of all the people who have employed themselves in forma-
tions of this sort, and devoted a portion of their industry to the
construction of instruments serving, in some degree, to satisfy
those natural longings of the human mind after something
bringing before it the perfections of the deity, none have been
more eminently successful than the Egyptians. The sudden-
ness with which the art there attained an excellence, that even
now commands our fullest admiration, is a phenomenon well
deserving the attention of speculators on the extent of the
human powers when roused to free and active exertion.
Several circumstances seem to have contributed to deter-
mine the form which architecture there assumed, and to carry
it at once from infancy to maturity.
One of the manifestations of power most apt to attract the
notice of men in the early stages of society, as very great, is
the moving of large blocks of stone. To men altogether igno-
rant of the mechanic powers, however strong and numerous, to
INVENTION ECONOMIC 165
move a cubic stone of the weight of only two tons would be
impossible ; for, enough of them could not get hold of it. To
men again, having made a certain degree of progress in art,
and aware of the advantage, for instance, of the lever, though
it might then be practicable to move into an upright posi-
tion pillars of even a few tons weight, such objects would
still seem very striking displays of power. They would also
impress them with the ideas of extended duration, which the
indestructible nature of the material, is calculated to produce.
Accordingly we find that the erection of such columnar masses,
has been a very common act of men, in rude states of society,
in their efforts to draw themselves near to some conception they
have had of the great first cause.
But it is not mere blind power, and eternal duration, that is
attributed to the deity ; besides this, all men ascribe to him un-
erring wisdom, and most men, boundless benevolence. Regu-
larity of design, then, especially if combined with visible utility,
renders any object of great and changeless power, more fitting
to inspire religious sentiments. On this account the sun, of
all objects continually before our eyes, is that most generally
turned to with religious feelings.
Symmetry of design may be given to collections of columns,
by preserving them at regular distances, and forming them
into circular, or straight lines. The circles of the Druids in
Scotland, and in other parts of Europe, are examples of this
sort of form. Greater unity would be given to an erection of
thi- sort, by the addition of horizontal pieces, stretching from
the top of the one pillar to that of the other, and partially
roofing in the fabric. Such an addition would also heighten
notion of power embodied in the work. The poising large
masses of stone on the summits of elevated columns, must
have appeared a stupendous exertion of power, to those who
first contemplated it. Such seems to have been the character
of the famous druidical temple of Stonehenge. A form similar
to this, would therefore seem likely to be that, which the
ancient Egyptians must have been inclined to give the religious
edifices they constructed, when leaving the higher grounds,
1 >e<jan to descend and occupy the plains ; and such is, in
fact, the general outline which the ruins of their edifices yet
166 INVENTION ECONOMIC
present. But they possessed arts which enabled them to give
their edifices a degree of grandeur, far superior to the rude
structures of the ancient Britons.
They were probably either themselves workers of stone, or
had the means of knowing how stone may be wrought. The
more ancient Troglodytes were perfect in the art of cutting
stone. Their labors were confined, however, to forming ex-
cavations in rock, they do not seem to have ever thought of
dividing these rocks into fragments, and again reuniting them
into some required form. Indeed, this is an idea, that could
not very readily occur as a means of facilitating the formation
of structures of the sort. Here, as in other instances, the
beginnings of art are simple, but laborious. It is invention
that abridges the amount of labor necessary for attaining the
end, and substitutes skill and contrivance, for toil and per-
severance. A sort of necessity, brought about by the occupa-
tion of a new region, and the desire to have rocky edifices on
the alluvial plane, probably led the Egyptians to effect this
revolution.
The possession of another art, made it of less difficult execu-
tion. Egypt, a long level valley periodically overflowed,
afforded peculiar facilities for the transport by water, of even
the heaviest articles. The largest masses separated from the
rocks that bordered the great canal, into which it was trans-
formed during the time of the inundation, had only to be
moved to rafts stationed close by, when they could be trans-
ported to any required situation. The riches also of that
celebrated valley, then probably recently exposed to human
industry by the retiring waters, and which the efforts of fifty
centuries have not yet exhausted, gave the inventive faculty
as its instrument, an almost unlimited command of labor.
Genius was not wanting to reach lofty conceptions, or to
apply the means put in its hands so as to give them an
adequate form. The works it produced were the admiration
of antiquity, and are the astonishment of modern times.
Architecture, with the other arts of Egypt, was carried to
Greece. It retained, nevertheless, the same essential character,
the effects it produced arising from the magnitude and propor-
tions of massive blocks, arranged in columns and transverse
INVENTION ECONOMIC 167
pieces. A comparison of the two does not give the one much
superiority over the other. Both possess sublimity and unity
of design, and beauty of execution, and if the Grecian has
ter elegance, the Egyptian has greater grandeur. But if
the colony did not much excel the parent country in archi-
tecture, there is no comparison between them in the sister art
of sculpture. Architecture and statuary were combined by
the ancient Egyptians. The earliest human figures cut in
stone, that have come down to us, are those executed by them,
on their columnar fabrics. They represent the human body
in one position. The arms close to the trunk, the legs close
ach other, the back applied to the block, of which the
statue is a part. This position of the body forms evidently
the most easy design which a novice in the art, when first
attempting to shape in stone some representation of the
human figure, could conceive. That the Egyptian artists
should have commenced with such figures, seems natural
enough, but that, after having learned to execute the pro-
>us and highly finished works in statuary, which they have
left, they should still have adhered to this position, can only,
I apprehend, be explained from the influence of the spirit of
imitation. The achievements of the ancient Egyptians, in the
whole art of shaping stone into forms giving the ideas of
sublimity and beauty, may well be supposed to have filled the
minds of their descendants with awe and admiration, since
their iv mains so powerfully affect even men of the present day
with these sentiments. It is scarcely in human nature greatly
I in ire any productions of genius, and to form others much
surpassing them. Under the influence of such a sentiment,
men are rather inclined to confine their efforts to making
additions, than to exert them in attempting alterations, prud-
ence whispering, that the former will be received as sufficient
proof of their capacity, while the latter might be censured as
proceeding from their arrogance. When a certain point has
once been gained, future artists seek the principles of their
operations, not in the powers of nature and of man, but in
what they term the rules of art. These rules seem to have
effectually confined the art of statuary, as far as the human
figure was concerned, to the limits marked out by the first
168 INVENTION ECONOMIC
essays. Even figures in porcelain had the same character, an
appendix being put to the back, indicative of the original
stone block. The restraining influence of the spirit of imita-
tion is rendered more remarkable, from the figures of the
inferior animals being executed with considerable spirit.
When the art was transferred to Greece, the change of
country undid its trammels, and its productions assumed all
the life, grace, and beauty, which varying and natural attitudes
bestow.
The mechanical part of architecture underwent a revolution
among the nations that were finally consolidated into the
Eoman Empire, by the adoption of the arch, and the employ-
ment of cement. The Egyptians and Grecians were stone-
cutters ; the Komans, masons. The spirit of imitation
prevented this change in the material part, from producing,
immediately, a corresponding change in the ideal. Under the
Komans, the arch and the column were combined. It was
not until after the ruin of the Empire, when architecture
recommenced among other races, that it assumed a new form,
correspondent to the change in the mechanical part, and suited
to the purposes and times.
When arts, other than those of their native wilds, first
began to be any thing to our rude ancestors, the art of the
mason, received by them from the Eomans, was properly the
capacity of shaping a stony mass into a form, realizing some
of their imaginations, from materials, which could be easily
transported to the point required. While the Egyptians and
Grecians had had to apply their powers to changing the figures
and positions of masses of rocks, they possessed the art of
constructing a rocky mass. The instrument of the former
was the chisel, to carve into shape, of the latter, lime, to work
out to shape. The beginnings of the former art in Africa >
and of the latter in Europe, are marked by the same lavish
expenditure of human labor, though in different modes. In
the former, the human hand, slowly, by dint of strokes inter-
mitted not for generations, dug out caves, or carved pillars.
In the latter, also, the human hand cemented small fragments
of rock to small fragments, till in the lapse of years, the mass
gradually swelled out into some desired form. The extent of
INVENTION ECONOMIC 169
the operations of the one was limited, by the powers of in-
dustry, to put large blocks and columns of stone into the
requisite positions, and by the strength and durability of these
materials. The operations of the other again, were limited,
solely, by the cohesive qualities of the mass it formed. The
effect at which both aimed, grandeur, the union of power,
durability, and useful design, was mainly produced in the
former, by the vastness and symmetry of the several parts, in
the latter, by the same qualities combined in a whole.
The art was probably at first applied in modern Europe, to
the construction of places of strength. Solidity to resist the
battering engines, height to prevent the fortress being scaled,
and the advantage of having scope to annoy the besiegers,
produced the massive battlemented towers and castles of the
ancient barons. As its materials were the most durable,
principles to which we have already adverted, soon led to its
application to structures devoted to the purposes of religion.
A plain wall of small stones and lime may convey the idea
of durability, but only in a slight degree, that of power or
design. A circular or angular column of the same materials,
if very elevated, is better fitted for these ends, but still, is far
inferior to one composed of a solid block. A lofty stone arch,
again, is one of the most striking displays of power that human
art exhibits. The aspect of a mass so ponderous, hanging
thus securely in high air, fixes the attention, and fills the
mind with awe. It is, accordingly, by a skilful management
of the arch, that the grandeur of effect of what we term the
iic architecture, is chiefly produced. All the other parts
are subordinate to it, and confined within the smallest limits
sufficient to bring out its powers. In the more perfect
specimens, there is no dead wall ; a congeries of lofty arches,
supported on short, or slender pillars, is wrought into a
magnificent and beautiful whole. The feeling of admiration
here springs from the consideration of the power manifested,
in maintaining in its place the whole high and hanging fabric;
whereas, in the Grecian architecture, it rather arises from a
perception of that displayed in the formation and elevation of
each separate member.
The progress towards perfection, of this order of architecture,
170 INVENTION ECONOMIC
was much more slow, considering that it scarcely ever re-
mained wholly stationary, than was that of the Grecian, for it
is, in reality, far more difficult. Several causes contributed to
its advance. The great extent of country over which its
elements were diffused, occasioned the use of various sorts
of stone, and produced the advantageous effects arising from a
continual change of materials. The art of the mason im-
proved, strength was obtained by joining stones into one
another, rather than by cementing them together. The use of
freestone, a rock easily wrought into shape, probably had con-
siderable effect in producing this improvement. The architect
was thus enabled to bring out, in greater fineness, all the parts
of his fabric. The feelings of men, also, set towards the
pursuit. Kings, nobles, a proud and powerful priesthood,
stood ready to reward and applaud its successful creations, and
assembled multitudes gazed on them in silent and delighted
admiration. It has been truly said, that it formed much of
the poetry of the age. In the want of other species of intel-
lectual excitement, men were needs very strongly moved by
an art, that thus wrought on stone and lime, they knew not
how, to pourtray some of the deepest feelings of their hearts.
It seems to have been only slightly retarded, by a propensity
to servile imitation. The various kingdoms into which Europe
was split, and the difficulty of intercourse amongst them, gave
courage to the artists, who were themselves the greatest
travellers, to attempt works from which they would have
shrunk, had those who were to judge of them had easy access
to established models. Nevertheless, there is a fact, which
shows that the oppressive influence of this principle was far
from inert. The epochs of the most rapid advances of the
Gothic architecture, were the periods succeeding the conquest
of kingdoms by new races. This circumstance has given
occasion to several, to conjecture that it stands indebted to
the knowledge of its principles which some of these conquerors
brought with them. The supposition is improbable ; we have
no reason to believe that they brought any thing else, than
what necessarily belonged to such men, a bold and untram-
meled spirit. This, indeed, is an essential element, and one,
as we have seen, of great power in the composition of genius.
INVENTION ECONOMIC 171
It was thus that the prominent defects of the art under the
An L:!O- Saxons, an exuberance of dead wall, and want of eleva-
tion, were remedied by the Normans. The Saracens in Spain,
wrought also a similar change.
At no preceding period, did there exist men, so much given
to the erection of permanent structures as modern Europeans,
and their American descendants. Their command of materials,
their resources of power, are by much superior to those
possessed by any antecedent people. It is certainly, then,
surprising, that they should be servile copyists of the arts of
those whom they fitly look on, compared with themselves, as
barbarians. I apprehend we can only explain the phenomenon,
from the influence of the instinct of imitation. The extended
intercourse between all parts of the world, the diffusion of the
products of book-making, and of picture-making, render us
familiar with existing models of all sorts. An artist, there-
fore, who has to construct any great edifice, finds it safest to
copy from some one whose merits have been acknowledged,
and takes the measure of a Grecian temple, or Gothic church.
Thus, at least, he covers himself from censure. Hence it is,
that we so often see, in the cold foggy climate of Britain, or in
the boisterous one of North America, an imitation of some
structure that had been admired in Greece. The claims to
admiration which the copy possesses, fall, however, far short of
the original. In the first place, it wants that evidence of
perfect design, which arises from the complete and easy
accomplishment of a purpose. What answered the mild
climate, and serene skies of Greece, is felt to be inconvenient,
and therefore defective, elsewhere. Next, it is most probably
ry deficient copy. The effect of the Grecian structures,
depends, as we have seen, in their consisting of large masses of
stone. Our imitations are probably the work of the mason, or
possibly the plasterer, and convey, therefore, no idea of power,
very essence which it is desired to embody. There is
hence, also, generally, a failure in the execution. When the
1 is full of any great idea, it knows when it has got an
adequate expression for it, and rests not satisfied until it has
fitly and accurately embodied it. But, if this great presi<
idea be wanting, there is nothing within, distinguishing the
172 INVENTION ECONOMIC
right from the wrong, or preventing the commission of the
greatest errors. Our mason-work and plastered fabrics, are
consequently, often masses of incongruities.
Our choice of Gothic models, for similar reasons, generally
fails as completely. A large cathedral, indeed, must be ad-
mired anywhere, but this is too great a work to be attempted.
A copy is probably taken, from some chapel. We forget, that
what was admirable for its purpose in some small ancient
rustic hamlet, is out of place in our cities ; that the arches,
which, to simple peasants living in huts, seemed magnificent,
to the chieftain, issuing for a time from his naked fortalice,
elegant, must appear mean and insignificant, to those whose
halls are nearly as lofty; and, that the whole pinnacled and
buttressed structure, crowded on and perhaps overtopped by
square unseemly buildings, devoted to meaner uses, shows
among them, trifling, and fantastic, like a toy erected to please
children.
The examples we have hitherto considered, are of the same
arts changing materials. Those which we have now to attend
to, are of different arts adopting the same, or similar materials.
When arts are brought together, they borrow from each other.
Men perceive that some materials, or instruments, or processes,
employed in the one, could they be transferred to the other,
would be the cause of its yielding larger returns. They are
encouraged, therefore, to attempt the change, and experience
shows that such attempts perseveringly pursued, are generally
successful.
Efforts of the inventive faculty, succeeding in effecting such
transfers, are more important than those in which it accom-
plishes simply a change of materials, for they tend more than
they to weaken the powers of the propensity to imitation, and
establish general principles, applicable to all arts. Hence we
observe, that, in countries where many arts flourish, there are
most general principles, least servile imitations, and very often,
a continual onward progress. Barren apart, they show genera-
tive virtues when brought together. I take it, that it is
chiefly from this circumstance, that the seats of commerce
have been so generally the points from whence improvements
in the arts have emanated. Thus, also, countries where various
i
INVENTION ECONOMIC 173
different races, or nations, have mingled together, are to be
noted as coming eminently forward in tne career of industry.
Great Britain is a remarkable instance of this ; so are the
(United States of America. When individuals meet from
different countries, they reciprocally communicate and receive
the arts of each, adopt such as are suited to their new circum-
stances, and probably improve several. Servile imitation can
(there have no place, for there is no common standard to
imitate. Countries again, where only one art is practised, and
where the population is composed of one unmingled race, are
generally servilely imitative. Such are some purely agricul-
tural countries. Experience shows, that, from the influence of
this propensity, improvements, in these, always introduce
themselves very slowly. Leaving, however, these general
reflections, we should now turn to particular instances of
passages in this way, of processes and inventions from art
to art, and consequent improvement of old, and generation of
new arts. But, as these will be chiefly recent, and European,
there are one or two circumstances, affecting generally their
progress in this part of the globe, to which it may be as well
previously to advert.
The rough and variable climate of Europe, compared with
the regions that have given origin to most of the arts now pre-
vailing in it, renders the necessary cost of subsistence much
greater. To live at all, in most parts of Europe, men must
consume a greater quantity and better quality of food, or they
must be more warmly clothed and comfortably lodged, than in
regions nearer the equator. The influence of this circum-
stance has probably been somewhat increased by another.
Along the Mediterranean, civilization seems to have gained
great part of its advance by colonization, and it is to be ob-
served that this movement of men from one region to another,
proceeds from different motives than others impelling them to
a change of seat. Men are often compelled by necessity to
migrate in tribes and nations, but emigration in small parties,
proceeds from choice.
They cannot well be induced to leave, not only their homes,
but their kindred and nation, unless from the hope of bettering
01 .million, and, if their project miscarries not, they do in
174 INVENTION ECONOMIC
fact better their condition, and are indemnified for the pains of
emigration, by a greater command of the necessaries and com-
forts of life. Thus habits of larger consumption are introduced,
than absolute necessity might demand. Both circumstances
would have the effect of augmenting the expense, or the wages
of labor, and of creating an additional difficulty, to the passage
of the arts of warmer climates into these more northern
regions. It is very evident, for example, that an European
workman could never have sat down to a Hindoo loom, for the
purpose of fabricating a garment to himself; it would have
been much better for him to keep to his sheepskin jacket.
Before the transfer of any art could be effected, invention had
to supply it with additional facilities. Stimulated by its
wants, by the new scenes in which it found itself, and by the
new materials submitted to it, it accordingly seems always to
have succeeded in doing so. There is, perhaps, scarcely an
implement in general use in Africa, or in Asia, excepting from
it China, that has not passed with improvement into Europe.
In modern Europe, too, the strength of the effective desire of
accumulation, seems to have been always greater than in any
other part of the old world. This circumstance has much
facilitated the passage into it, of the several arts, and balancing
the higher rates of wages, and more stubborn materials, has
rendered the formation of very many instruments there practi-
cable, which the weaker accumulative principle of the Asiatics,
or Africans, would have left unattempted.
It is worth while to remark, that there is a considerable
analogy in this particular, between the different conditions of
society in that continent and Asia then, and what exists
between them now, in Europe and North America. The
general wages of labor seem always to have been higher in
Europe, than in Asia, in the same way as the wages of labor in
North America, are now higher than in Europe. The same
process, too, that carried the arts to Europe, seems now aiding
their passage across the Atlantic. As flame often sets against
the wind, for that it is fed by it, so invention seems to hold its
course against opposing obstacles, for these obstacles excite its
powers and minister materials to their action.
The progress of the knowledge of the natures and qualities
INVENTION ECONOMIC 175
of particular substances, gradually introduced a knowledge of
the properties and natures of substances in general. Men first
see in the concrete, afterwards in the abstract. Thus, the dis-
covery of the several mechanical powers, and the knowledge
acquired of the nature of each, led in time to the general prin-
ciples of mechanics. A knowledge of the mathematical pro-
perties of substances, as in land-measuring, and in the regular
figures of architecture, led to a perception of the general
properties of figure, or of space as an affection of matter, and,
at last, to the doctrine of pure space and motion.
In the ancient world, science, as founded on a generalization
of the experiences of art, was little prosecuted. It is only
in modern times, that the science of experience has come to
form an element of importance, in the general advance of
invention.
It is clearly on the antecedent progress of art, that the foun-
dation of the hopes of Bacon, for the future progress of science,
rested. His philosophy may be fitly described, as a plan to
reduce to method the chance processes that had been going on
before, by which men, as we have seen, happening on one dis-
covery after another, grope their way, as he expresses it, slowly,
and in the dark, to fresh knowledge and power. The progress
<>{' the philosophy to which he has given his name, as well as
that of the science of mathematics, have unquestionably dis-
covered to us many general truths and theorems of art, and
t'<>rm therefore a new element influencing its progress. The
t moving powers will, however, still, I apprehend, be found
to proceed from the principles, the action of which we are
now to attempt farther to trace through particular instances.
Men must have been very early led to the use of some of
the farinaceous plants, and other vegetable matters, which,
before they are fit for food, require to be reduced to small
fragments. To effect this, they must either have rubbed them,
<>r )>eat them, between some two substances. If stone were
the material, they would rather prefer rubbing them. fnm tlu
iity of that substance to break, and from its weight. It is
rude tribes of southern Africa, to this day, lay
their corn on one flat stone, and grind it by the help of
176 INVENTION ECONOMIC
another. 1 An improvement on this instrument, is to have the
lower stone a little hollowed, and perhaps marked with trans-
verse notches. In one form or other, this is a very general
and ancient instrument, and, it may be observed, is probably
the first machine in which a circular motion was introduced.
If wood be the material, then, to produce any effect, the
substance to be comminuted must be laid on one piece, and
another be struck against it. But thus, a large portion of the
matter operated on would fly off, and be lost. The most
natural mode of preventing this, is to hollow out the lower
piece. The Indians of North America make an instrument of
this sort very easily, by taking a portion of the trunk of a tree
of hard wood, setting it upright, and burning and scraping out
a hole in the upper end. They have then a large mortar, to
which adjusting a wooden pestle, they produce the implement
with which they pound all their corn. Such an instrument
seems, like its fellow of stone, to have been in very general use,
at one time or other, in most parts of the world. 2
Tribes having learnt the use of such an instrument, on sub-
stances most easily comminuted, would be urged on to essay
its powers on more cohesive matters. They might succeed in
the attempt, at first, by simply increasing the size of the im-
plement, and searching out the hardest and heaviest woods to
construct it of; but, even these improvements would at length
be insufficient for the enterprises to which their confidence in
1 [So also peoples by no means altogether "rude," in Central and South
America.]
2 In a Scotch ballad, I believe in Allan Ramsay's collection, containing a
catalogue of a peasant's furniture, perhaps two centuries since, "A timmer
mell the bear to knock," is among the utensils enumerated. We yet speak of
striking barley.
[The early frontiersmen of America, in the days of their extreme poverty
before they set up water mills, adopted the Indian mortar and pestle described
above, with the addition that the labor of raising the heavy pestle was greatly
lightened by the attachment of a spring-pole. These were called " samping
mills," and the loud noise made by their operation could be heard a long way
through the forest, and announced to the traveller his approach to a clearing.
The introduction of water mills into many parts of the tropics is permanently
opposed by great obstacles, owing to the extreme seasonal variations in rain-
fall. The device just described would seem to be the first and most natural
advance upon the tortilla stone in these regions.]
INVENTION ECONOMIC 177
their powers, or their necessities, might excite them. To over-
come these increasing difficulties, it would require no great
stretch of the inventive faculty, to hit on the expedient of
placing a firm transverse bar, with a hole in it, for the passage
of the handle of the pestle, across the top of the mortar, from
side to side. Such a change in its construction, seems accord-
ingly, to have been very generally effected. Simple as it is,
it contained the germ of very many subsequent improvements.
The force employed, acting thus not directly, but through the
intervention of a fulcrum, may be so applied as to give either
increased velocity, or increased power, and the regulated move-
ment introduced renders mere power almost all that is neces-
sary. The size of the mortar, and weight of the pestle, might,
therefore, be increased indefinitely, and the instrument might
be put in motion by men, or by cattle. The expression of the
table oils, was found to be the most difficult operation to
be performed by instruments of this sort, and it is probable,
that it was to effect it, that machinery, by which increased
force might be employed, was first made use of. Oil mills, of
this sort, are yet common in the east.
This construction rendered the union of the wooden mortar
and pestle, with the parallel instrument of stone, almost
inevitable. Hardness and heaviness, being the requisites in
thr pestle, and an equal resistance being necessary in the
mortar, to bring about the junction, it would seem to have
been only requisite, that the two machines should have met
re there was a scarcity of wood of proper quality. The
handle of the pestle, through which a cross bar was then
thrust, became the axle of the upper mill stone, and the lower
mill stone formed the bottom of the mortar. The movement
then became altogether circular, and required small absolute
force, but as much swiftness as could be given to it. The
machine thus generated, by the passage of the one instrument
into the other, was then a regular mill, to work which was the
Inyment of cattle or slaves. As it united the advantages
of the two original instruments, the capacity of the wood to
ive and modify motion, and of the stone to bruise and
Minute hard vegetable matters, its invention seems to have
considerable effect in advancing art still farther. The
M
178 INVENTION ECONOMIC
moving power, in one of the most laborious and common opera-
tions, was thus reduced to a simplicity of action, that paved
the way for its being performed by an inanimate agent ; such
an agent was introduced into the process, through the inter-
vention of another art.
In hot regions, water is very abundantly consumed, both as
a necessity and luxury, for immediate use, and as the great
fertiliser of the soil. In such regions, the raising it from wells
and rivers has always been a very common and laborious pro-
cess, and to facilitate it has given occasion to some of the
earliest efforts of ingenuity. One of these consisted of a lar^e
wheel, placed upright, and to the circumference of which small
buckets were affixed. It was put in motion by treading on it,
and the buckets and it were so arranged, that they should
just dip beneath the stream, in the lower part of their circum-
volution, and, at the height of it, should empty themselves
into a reservoir placed above. A considerable saving of labor
was thus produced. Another improvement did entirely away
with the necessity of employing it, in many situations. To
the outside of the wheel, where there was a sufficient current,
were affixed broad plates of wood, or other material, on which
the strength of the stream acting, forced it round, and per-
formed the office of the laborer. Such engines are of common
use at present in China. They were known in Italy, in the
time of Julius Caesar, to which they probably found their way
from Asia. They presented to the Romans a means of em-
ploying the power of water in the laborious operation of grind-
ing, 1 which they had sufficient discernment to adopt. The
motion of the water-wheel, was communicated to the mill, by
the intervention of a toothed wheel.
1 Fiunt etiam in fluminibus rotse eisdem rationibus, quibus supra scriptum
est. Circa earum froutes affiguntur pinnae, quse cum percutiuntur ab impetu
fluminis, cogunt progredientes versari rotam ; et ita modiolis aquam haurientes
et in summum referentes, sine operarum calcatura, ipsius fluminis impulsa
versatae, praestant quod opus est, ad usum. Eadem ratione etiam versantur
hydraulae, in quibus eadem sunt omnia, przeterquam quod in uno capite axis
habet tympanum dentatum et inclusum ; id autem ad perpendiculum colloca-
tum in cultrum, versatur cum rota pariter. Secundum id tympanum, majus
item dentatum planum est collocatum, quo continetur axis, habens in summo
capite subscudem ferreum qua mola continetur. Ita dentes ejus tympani,
INVENTION ECONOMIC 179
Thus, from the union of the productions of the inventive
faculty exercised on at least three arts, came the rude model
of the present water-mill. Its progress was at first slow.
Such mills seem only to have been constructed, when there
was a current of water suited to the purpose. The expense of
forming artificial falls, seems to have been too great for the
improvidence of the age. Though abundant materials existed,
accumulative principle of the people was too weak to work
1 1 >uii them. Cattle-mills, and mills driven by slaves, con-
lued therefore to be generally preferred. 1 It was owing to
invention, like so many others, the result of necessity and
genius united, that the use of water-mills became more general.
When Rome was besieged by the Goths, in the time of
Belisarius, they cut off the supply of water by the aqueducts.
Among the other inconveniences arising from the measure, it
stopped the mills driven by the water from these aqueducts.
To remedy the evil, that general devised the scheme of
anchoring barges in the river, in which he placed mills driven
by the current. The plan met the immediate exigence, and,
as such a construction suited the low strength of the accumu-
lative principle of the age, it was generally adopted elsewhere.
In the present times, such a plan would be rejected, because,
though the first expense is comparatively small, the durability
of the instrument is too short. We prefer the greater expense
of making dams and sluices, on account of their greater dura-
bility. The cause leading to the construction of the one or
the other, is the same as that determining the Chinese to the
formation of floating gardens, where the Dutch would build
-'S.
The invention maintained itself through the dark ages, and
followed the improvement and extension of agriculture, and
quod eat in axi inclusum, impellendo denies tympani plani, cogunt fieri m6-
larum circinationem, in qua machina impendens infun<lil>ulum submimstrat
tnolis frumentum, et eadem versatione subijitur farina. Vitruvius, Lib. N
M quoted by Beckman, Vol. I.
'jute copia eat, fuaurua balnearum debent pistrina auscipere ; ut ubi
formatis aquariis tnolis, sine animaliiun vcl liominmn labore, frumenta frnn-
Pallad de re wt., lib. I. 42, edit. Gean. II., p. 892. Ibid.
1 Ihtrt hundred years after Augustus, the number of cattle-mills in Rome
amounted to three hundred. BKEMAN.
180 INVENTION ECONOMIC
facility of communication, which returning civilization and
tranquillity gradually diffused. It seems to have spread very
generally over Europe, about the beginning of the sixteenth
century. The force of water being, by it, turned to the ser-
vice of man, wind also was made to employ its powers to a
similar purpose.
Important as these engines were in themselves, from their
immediate utility, they were more so in their effects. Men's
minds were directed to the advantage of what is termed
machinery, instruments, that is, giving new velocity and direc-
tion to motion, and to the power of inanimate agents generative
of motion, of both of which the mill afforded the first eminent
instance. Examples of the possibility of executing by other
powers than the human hand, or the strength of the inferior
animals, one of the most difficult of the operations that the
necessities of mankind called for, being brought freshly before
the eyes of almost all Europe, naturally prompted the genius
of reflective men to conceive the idea of applying them
to other, and even more difficult processes. This general
stimulus to the inventive faculty, conjoined with others, acting
vigorously, but occasionally and partially, and already referred
to, carried the improvement through a great variety of opera-
tions. Mills of all sorts, came to be constructed, driven
commonly by water, as the more forcible, and manageable
power. To trace the course of invention through these, were
not to mark the principles regulating the progress of that
faculty, but to enter on a description of European art. It may
be sufficient to observe, that, in conformity to these principles,
not only was each difficulty overcome by it, a benefit to the
particular art it was meant to serve, but to art in general, each
conquest extending its authority, not alone over the province
where it was achieved, but over the whole region which it was
its object to gain. If, for instance, comparing the ingenious
and complete machinery of a well-constructed flour-mill of the
present day, with a model of the rude and imperfect engines of
the sort that existed two hundred years ago, we ask the cause
of the difference, we shall probably be told, the improvement
of mechanics ; but, if we trace the progress of this improve-
ment carefully, we will find that it was the fitting of the
INVENTION ECONOMIC 181
machinery of this very engine to other arts, that was one of the
main producers of it. The productions of the union of arts
also propagating others, like all generators, their increase goes
on. when there are no retarding checks, to borrow a phrase
of common use in inquiries connected with these, not in a
simple arithmetical, but in a geometrical progression.
The effects produced, by the passage through different
arts, of this improvement on a very ancient engine, important
as they were, have been far exceeded in extent of consequences,
by one of altogether modern invention. I allude to the steam
engine, the progress of which, we will find to have regulated
itsi-lf almost altogether according to the above principles.
As the progress of order, civilization, and art, covered the
island of Great Britain with a numerous population, the stores
of fuel which its cold and moist climate required, and its
forests had at first afforded, were by degrees exhausted. Its
situation prevented its receiving the supplies, which, had it
made a part of the continent, might have been brought down
rivers issuing from interior regions. Necessity thus taught its
[habitants the general use of coal, in which, happily, its
territory abounds. But what of this material lay close to the
surface, and the fields immediately beneath, having been
wrought out, the miner was urged on by the increasing wants
of his countrymen, and the abundant materials before him, to
penetrate still deeper ; and the labors of generations formed
large excavations, in regions far beneath the surface. Here,
however, he was met by an enemy continually gathering
strength as he advanced on him, and threatening completely
to bar his future progress. The farther he penetrated, water
poured in upon him in greater quantity, while to free himself
of it he had to elevate it to a greater height. A period seemed
approaching, when very many of the mines must be abandoned.
In this extremity, it was natural to the men engaged in this
occupation, to cast about, and endeavor to discover some
j, through help of which they might successfully continue
its pursuit. The resources of all powers hitherto known having
been tried, as far as in such situations they could be effectually
employed, and seeming to be on the point of yielding, it could
not but occur to attentive thinkers, that, if they were to
182 INVENTION ECONOMIC
succeed, the probability was it would be through some one
hitherto unemployed. Of those, steam was perhaps the most
apparent, and manageable. Its force must have been, at least
in some measure, known to many, and had been previously
pointed out by one distinguished individual, as capable of pro-
ducing the greatest effects. The operation to be performed by
it, too, seemed peculiarly fitted for its action. Water is moved
in pipes, and, it is only in confinement that the power arising
from the rarefication and condensation of steam becomes sen-
sible. It appeared then by no means impracticable, to manage
the condensation and rarification within metal pipes, so con-
nected with those in which the water had to be raised, as to
supply the force necessary to produce its elevation. On this
principle the attempt was made, and succeeded in first practi-
cally establishing the power of an agent, destined, we cannot
doubt, to produce effects far greater than any which has
hitherto been placed within the hands of man.
The various circumstances conjoining to bring about this
important event, are deserving our attention. 1st. The urgent
demand for some powerful agent, however rude and unwieldly
in action. Had the operation to be performed been in any
degree complicated and nice in its nature, it would never pro-
bably have occurred to any one, that the expanse and collapse
of a vapor, shut up in iron vessels, could be brought to execute
it. 2d. The materials, metal, coal, and water, being in these
situations abundant. 3d. The previous improvement of
machinery in general. 4th. The want occurring to men of
property, and of a class in general bold in enterprise, and
accustomed to stake their funds freely. 1 Had any of these
been wanting, this extraordinary invention might yet have
slumbered, veiled in the darkness which had covered it for so
many thousands of years. Perhaps it might have been stifled
1 [To this catalogue should be added a fifth " circumstance," touched upon in
part by Rae two pages back, and that is, the existence of a government strong
enough to secure at least ordinary law and order, but not so strong as to crush
out the spirit of individual initiative. Had the experience of Dud Dudley in iron
smelting, for example, been universal and continuous in respect to all British
industrial innovators in each generation, the whole course of modern economic
history in Great Britain would have been vastly different.]
INVENTION ECONOMIC 183
at its birth, for its first appearance gave but slight token of its
inherent capabilities. The expenditure of fuel and of labor,
necessary to the discharge of its functions, was excessive. It
having, however, been thus established, that it was an agent
within the compass of man's ability, to make a partner in the
series of his operations, there was a strong stimulus to endea-
vour to render it a more economical agent. This was effected
by a change in the construction of the apparatus, the leading
feature of which is, the causing the steam to perform its
operations, through the intervention of a piston. The instru-
ment thus produced, was an effective and economical operator
for the purpose designed. The improvement was important in
itself, and far more so in its consequences. Had the machinery
of simple pipes and valves been continued, under some improved
form, 1 it might have appeared only fitted for propelling fluids,
and been confined to that purpose ; as through the aid of sails
of some sort, wind has been made to propel vessels, from very
early ages, though it is only of comparatively recent times, that
it has been applied to give motion to mills. But, the introduc-
tion of the piston, and its adjuncts, showed the power in a
familiar form ; the handle of a pump was a thing well known
as put in motion by machinery, and it was obvious that the
movement had only to be reversed, to communicate motion to
any machinery. Under this form, therefore, its progress as a
power through all other machinery, may be said to have been
inevitable. It possessed the important advantages of being
always at command, uniform in action, and unbounded in force.
In this progress it was assisted in one important step by science.
discovery of the doctrine of latent heat enabled it at
once to surmount a great obstacle, which might otherwise
Inn'j limited the extent of its operations. It is perhaps
not to be supposed, but that the general truth would have
been itself at last made known by the continual groping
after improvement, which the existence of such an instrument
in the hands of men would of itself have occasioned ; if how-
ever science advanced it by only a few years, the beneficial
rmation and condensation of the steam, might have been managed
imbers, separate from the system of pipes and reservoirs elevating tha
w,iti-r.
184 INVENTION ECONOMIC
effects of such an anticipation, will be allowed to have been
very great. 1
In its course, two things seem specially worthy of notice, the
additional freedom which it gave the inventive faculty, and the
circumstances which existed to facilitate the progress of that
faculty, and which it seized on for the purpose. The con-
sciousness of the possession of an agent of unlimited and
perfectly manageable power, which had escaped the attention
of all preceding ages, seemed to have immediately more
effectually broken the constraining and retarding influence of
the propensity to imitation, than any preceding event. What-
ever mere motion could do, if the sphere of its action could be
contracted into small space, was conceived within the power of
steam ; and invention set to work with a determination, pro-
gressively to supply the means of its application. In these
essays, it has been always ultimately successful. It is not
necessary here to enlarge on the great changes it has hence
effected, or on the important improvements it has introduced.
It is to be observed, however, that, whatever it has performed,
has proceeded in the order we have indicated, and which, I
believe, almost all inventions have followed. The diversity of
climates, territories, productions, and other circumstances of
different regions and nations, has helped it, as them, forward >
and been to it as it were steps, by which it has gained the
rank it holds in the modes of human industry.
Thus the peculiar circumstances of the North American con-
tinent, may, with propriety, be said to have been the exciting
cause producing steam navigation, one of the most important of
these steps. That country is full of great lakes and rivers,
affording the easiest, and often the only means for the trans-
port of the large quantities of agricultural produce, that its
interior sections yield. Such inland navigation is always
exceedingly tedious ; there were therefore peculiar reasons
for the device of some new agent to facilitate it. An agent
like steam, too, might evidently be employed with more safety
and chance of success, in calm inland waters, than in the great
1 Since the above was written, I have seen it stated, that Watt did not
take the idea of his great improvement from Dr. Black's discovery, but that it
was entirely the result of his own inventive powers.
INVENTION ECONOMIC
185
ocean. If we consider, in addition to this, the greater play
which, from circumstances already enumerated, the inventive
faculty enjoys in that continent, we shall see that it was there,
so to say, that this improvement ought to have taken place.
The point, too, in North America, where it did first actually
take place, is also, as it were, particularly marked out for it.
The transport between New York and Albany, by sailing
vessels on the Hudson river, was both very expensive, and
peculiarly tedious. Steam has there changed a voyage of days,
or weeks, into one of less than sixteen hours. 1
The circumstances leading on to the invention of steam land
carriage, may also be noted as exemplative of this view of the
ibject. There were first simply railroads, to facilitate heavy
drafts for short distances, from coal mines ; then there was a
more general use of them in all heavy drafts ; finally, there
was the general application of steam, as the power to effect
transport of all sorts, and with all velocities, along the smooth
surface they afforded. All that was wanted for the last step
was, that the mechanism should be rendered less heavy and
cumbersome, and it may be remarked, so great confidence had
been generated of the power of the inventive faculty, that the
undertaking was commenced with full assurance that it would
accomplish the desired improvement, although the manner how
was not known. The result showed that the confidence was
t misplaced.
Thus, such are the steps by which invention advances, that
it would seem, had there been no country like Great Britain,
the steam engine might not yet have been produced ; had
there been none like North America, steam navigation might
not yet have been practised : and again, had not Great Britain
existed, metal railways and steam carriage might have been
still only in the category of possibilities.
ice the passage in the text was written, the art of the application of
team, as an agent in transport by water, has made a farther step. It con-
sists in a passage of the engine used in land carriage, to that used in water
carriage. Besides this, however, the germ of some other principles has
appeared, which, it seems probable, will ultimately produce a great and
tant revolution in the art. It is remarkable, that the site of this event
is also the Hudson.
186 INVENTION ECONOMIC
The invention of printing has often been cited as one of the
most important of modern times. The steps by which it
advanced were also of that gradual and easy nature, one leading
on to another, and surrounding circumstances prompting to
essay the ascent, as to take away all admiration of its
progress, were it not that the constitution of man's nature
renders the passing of any individual, coolly and deliberately,
the least out of the circle of imitation, very often a proof of
the strongest powers of mind. There was first the stamping
with signets ; then the transfer of this initial art, to stamping,
instead of painting, playing cards ; then the existence of a
great and unceasing demand for one book, the Bible, the
excessive cost of transcription, and the transfer of the art of
stamping cards to stamping pages, first of the sacred volume,
and afterwards of others ; lastly, there was the passage of
another art, that of casting dies for coining, to facilitating the
formation of metallic types. 1 The art, thus perfected, was dis-
seminated by the tyranny of a petty prince. 2
The art which [while not itself a technical process] has most
immediate connexion with the increase of wealth [in general],
the business of banking, is itself in some measure illustrative
of the influence of change in producing improvements in all
arts. It commenced in countries where exchanges for large
amounts were numerous. Venice, Florence, Genoa, Amsterdam,
the great marts of commerce, were the first banking communi-
ties. In them, however, its operations were confined to
1 In ascribing the invention of printing not to chance, but to the gradual
progress of events, I am supported by the authority of Condorcet, and appa-
rently also by that of Dugald Stewart. " L'invention de 1'imprimerie a sans
dout avance le progres de 1'espece humaine ; mais cette invention e'toit elle-
rneme une suite de 1'usage de la lecture re"pandu dans un grand nombre de
pays." Vie du Turgot, Pref. to first dissertation to Enc. Brit.
2 On sait comment 1'imprimerie s'est re*pandue depuis 1462 par la revolution
que Mayence e"prouva cette meme anne'e. Adolphe, comte de Nassau, soutenu
par la Pape Pie II. ayant surpris cette ville imperiale, lui ota ses liberty's et
privileges. Alors, tous les ouvriers, qu'elle avoit dans son sein & 1'exception
de Guttenburgh s'enfuirent, se disperserent et porterent leur art dans les lieux
et les pays ou il n'e"toit pas connu. C'est a cet e"ve"nement que tous les
historiers r^unis Jean Schreffer fils de Pierre et petit-fils de Faust, placent
1'epoque de la dispersion dont 1'Europe profita. (Encyclopedic,, Art., "Im-
primerie.")
INVENTION ECONOMIC 187
transfers of specie, and the benefits derived from them con-
sisted chiefly in security given, and trouble avoided. It
passed, at last, into countries where there were comparatively
few actual exchanges, and where, in order to effect the passage,
invention was obliged to develope its capacities for facilitating,
and thus exciting and increasing exchanges. The following
extract from the Wealth of Nations will render this apparent.
" The commerce of Scotland, which at present is not very
great, was still more inconsiderable when the two first banking
companies were established ; and those companies would have
had but little trade, had they confined their business to the
discounting of bills of exchange. They invented, therefore,
another method of issuing their promissory notes ; by granting
what they called cash accounts, that is, by giving credit to the
extent of a certain sum, (two or three thousand pounds for
example), to any individual who could procure two persons of
undoubted credit and good landed estate to become surety for
him, that whatever money should be advanced to him, within
the sum for which the credit had been given, should be repaid
upon demand, together with the legal interest. Credits of this
kind are, I believe, commonly granted by banks and bankers
in all different parts of the world. But the easy terms upon
which the Scotch banking companies accept of repayment are,
so far as I know, peculiar to them, and have perhaps been the
principal cause, both of the great trade of those companies, and
of the benefit which the country has received from it."
If we may judge of the progress of an art from its general
success, the transfer of the business of banking to Scotland
would furnish another proof of the benefits accruing to arts
themselves, from their passages from country to country. No-
where has banking been productive of more acknowledged
advantages, [as is shown in another place], and nowhere have
the evils occasionally attendant on it been fewer.
As also illustrative of the subject, I may call the attention
'ie reader to a fact often noted, the small progress of the
aborigines of the new world in art, when compared with that
;ied by the inhabitants of the old.
I 1 we are to sean-h fr natural causes of the phenomenon, in
my opinion we may find them, in the greater extent of
188 INVENTION ECONOMIC
continent in the eastern than in the western hemisphere, and,
especially, of continent lying under the equatorial regions, the
birth place in both of the arts they possessed. This extent of
country, and diversity of materials, must have increased very
much the chance of discovery in the arts, and tended greatly,
on the principles we have just been considering, to push
forward their improvement. To take as an example an art
which has been particularly referred to, 1 that of domesticating
the ox, and teaching him labor. To suppose that men, while
the whole of that species of animals were yet wild, conceived
the project of domesticating them, in order that they might
apply them to the various purposes they now serve, were a
conjecture altogether unwarranted by any event in the history
of mankind and of art. We have rather reason to believe that
in this, as in other instances, they must have been led on to
the object gradually, by the intervention of circumstances, each
carrying them a certain way towards this great end. But
there must evidently have been a greater chance for the exist-
ence of such circumstances, in the great range of continent
lying within, or not far from, the borders of the torrid zone in
Asia, Africa, or Europe, than in the small part similarly situated
in America. Without pretending to say what those circum-
stances were, it is at least probable that one may have been
the keeping these animals in enclosures, merely to satisfy the
curiosity, or to afford the amusement of hunting to the chiefs,
or kings, of the agricultural nations. This we know, in more
recent times, to have been a custom in some eastern countries. 2
There they would in time lose great part of their natural
ferocity, and become, like deer in our parks, half tame. Now,
it is evident enough, that the chances for this important step
towards the accomplishment of the object being undertaken,
would be directly in proportion to the number and extent of
the agricultural countries of those ages, that is, to the extent
of continent lying near the equator.
The period when the event took place marks a great change
in the condition of man, for, independently of its immediate
effects, it necessarily brought about the existence of a race of
herdsmen, occupying regions, in the state of art at the time, not
1 Dr. Robertson's History of America, Vol. II. 2 Xenophon, Cyrop.
INVENTION ECONOMIC 189
coming within the range of the strength of the effective desire
of accumulation of the neighboring people, as tillable land.
Herdsmen once existing, it could scarce be but that they
would spread themselves wherever they could find support
for their cattle, and gradually exterminate the hunting
tribes. There is, I think, reason to suppose that such a
revolution occurred in Europe many ages previous to the
time of recorded history. Its importance may be estimated
from the observations that are made in a preceding part of
this volume. 1
We may, on similar principles, in part, account for the low
rank in the scale of humanity occupied by the aborigines of
Australia, that fifth and yet but partially explored continent.
Thf uniformity of soil, climate, and natural productions, of that
whole region is very great. This limited variety of materials
would seem to have diminished the number of arts generated,
and that of improvements arising from effects of changes,
among those having obtained existence.
In conclusion I may observe, that I believe it will be found,
that there is no art in existence which we may not find means
to trace, with greater or less certainty, to the rudest and most
simple principles ; and which may not be shown to have
attained perfection by continual changes from place to place,
and material to material, and by encountering consequently
alternate difficulties and facilities, the former developing its
powers, the latter extending their field of action, and both,
by helping to introduce general principles, weakening the
restraining power of the tendency to servile imitation, and
advancing the progress of science. This successive passage of
the same arts from country to country, and from one into
another, seems to be the great exciting cause of the progress of
them all. The greatest improvement of British manufacture
in recent times is, I may remark, [the result of] a passage of
1 Page 84. Were this the place to enlarge on the subject, many circuin
stances confirmatory of such an event might be enumerated : as the traces of
the existence of a race of mere hunters over all Europe ; the roots of European
languages being the same aa those of central Asia ; the form and constitution
rneBtic ox species, and of sheep, marking their gradual migra-
tion from a warm climate, into colder region* and more abundant pasture.
190 INVENTION ECONOMIC
this latter sort. The cotton manufacture is a passage of the
art of fabricating woollens, into that of fabricating cottons. It
was the perfection of the former more easy art that showed the
possibility of the existence, and eventually brought about the
existence of the latter, invention in this case, being excited
by the higher wages of labor in Europe than in Asia.
Improvement was the consequence. The peculiar difficulties
the material presented being overcome, the facilities it possessed
were experienced.
This view of the subject seems somewhat to illustrate the
following reflections of Lord Bacon, concerning the early
progress of art, and may satisfy us that, even yet, they are
not altogether inapplicable. He observes, that, " although,
when we first begin to consider the variety of necessaries,
conveniences, and elegances, which the mechanical arts
minister to life, we are rather struck with a feeling of
admiration at the abundant wealth which mankind inherit,,
than with a sense of their poverty ; yet, when we examine
every thing, and consider through how many chances and
revolutions these arts have been brought to their perfection,
and through what simple and easy reflections they have been
discovered, such sentiments will soon leave us, and we shall be
inclined to commiserate the penury and barrenness of inven-
tion of the human race, which have taken so many ages to-
accomplish things deducible without difficulty, from facts
neither very numerous, nor very hard to be ascertained." ]
It is indeed true that the philosophy, in the introduction
of which he bore so eminent a part, has, in these latter ages,
been a very effective promoter of the dominion of man, and,
mixing with art, has much purified and dignified its spirit, and
greatly increased its powers, turning invention in this depart-
ment from particulars to generals, and converting art into
science. This has more especially happened in the chemical
sciences, and those connected with them, a sphere to which, I
may be allowed to observe, his system seems particularly
applicable. There, science begins to lead and direct art ; in
other departments she rather follows and assists it. But, with
regard to the general progress of art, even its recent history
*Nov. Org., L. 1, LXXXV.
INVENTION ECONOMIC 191
evinces the justice of these observations, and shows that
" men estimate falsely both their possessions and their powers,
deeming of the first more highly, and of the last more lightly,
than they ought." ] We shall admit this, if we consider the
vast number of qualities and powers, and of new practical
combinations of them, that, in our days, have been discovered
and applied to use, and reflect on the long series of ages
during which they were hid in darkness, on the proximity
of men to them, and the ease with which they might have
lighted on them, would they have turned their eyes, ever so-
little, out of the busy circle of actual life and occupations. If,
too, the history of the past tell us truly what the future will
be, we may feel assured that, as it is not the powers of nature
or of man, but the application of them, that is limited, if indi-
viduals be inclined by their own dispositions to apply them-
selves to purposes conducive to the general good, and if they
be incited to do so by causes similar to such as have before
operated, art and science will still stretch their capacities, until
they may at length reach an extent of which it is impossible
for us now to form any conception.
An attentive consideration of the history of art might also-
give rise to a series of reflections of another sort. It would
show a purpose, which does not strike us on a first view of the
creation. Nature, it would seem, if I may be allowed so
to express myself, sensible of the combined pride and im-
becility of man, has so arranged the world she has provided
for him, as to make it the means of urging him on, in a
continual progress, towards higher and higher attainments.
Mcr the defects of his limited and cloudy faculties, nor the
intoxication of the vainglory, that, fed by his imitative propen-
sities, is ever representing him to himself as having reached
iiinmit of terrestrial perfection, can preserve him station-
ary. He is now impelled by necessity, now excited by hope,
to attempt the amelioration of his condition, and thus gradu-
to develope the latent capacities of his own being, and of
-phere of existence in which he moves. By a diversity of
ites, soils, and nations, steps are, as it were, arranged for
him, up which he is gradually enticed, or compelled to mount,
l Nov. Org., L 1, I. XXXV.
192 INVENTION ECONOMIC
to fresh acquisitions of knowledge and power. He is never
allowed to remain stationary. A portion, indeed, of the race
may, and for a limited time, but ultimately they either im-
prove, or yield their place to surrounding peoples who have
improved.
Some philosophers urge it as an objection against the
world's having been formed by a designing cause, that so
large a portion of its surface is useless to man. According to
them, had it been formed by perfect and beneficent reason, it
should have been such a level garden, as a certain theorist
supposed it originally to have been. Had it been so, we may
safely assert, that man, as man, could never have inhabited it.
He must either have been formed above, or sunk below, his
present condition. Because we do not turn to any account the
sandy desert, or rugged mountain, we are not entitled to look
on them as blots on the general utility of the creation, or sup-
pose, even, that they may not be put to use by succeeding
generations. The savage of New Holland conceives every tree
useless that does not soon rot, and so breed maggots for him.
The ancient Eomans scarcely conceived that the woods and
morasses of Caledonia would, at any time, be abundantly
useful. We judge rashly, then, in condemning as useless any
portion of the earth. Even the barren deserts of Africa may,
in after ages, be fertilized. Art and industry may, in time,
draw water plentifully from the depths of the earth, and
cover them with treple harvests. To do so, human art
must make great advances, and these and the other obstacles
it has met with, and will meet with, are stimulants to its
advance.
War itself, so great an evil to the individuals within the
scope of its ravages, is evidently the only manner by which, in
certain states of society, an amelioration can be induced. The
destruction of the Eoman Empire, and almost of the Koman
race, by the barbarians, was, perhaps, ultimately, the most
beneficial revolution ever brought about. Even in its minor
consequences, this apparent evil produces also much of real
good. Without it, many of the most useful inventions might
never have been either propagated, or improved.
We are ever ready to forget the part which nature thus
INVENTION ECONOMIC 193
bears in our operations, and to lay the whole credit of our skill
and industry to our own discernment. The slow and
gradual manner in which she has led us on to the acquisition
of every art, acting all along the part of the sagacious teacher,
who puts before his scholar, at first, the most simple and easy
lessons, and on his mastering these, by degrees, through the
influence of suitable rewards and penalties, conducts him to
more difficult efforts, meets not our notice, and rises not
to our thoughts.
Were these or similar reflections fitly placed here, the
subject might give occasion to many more of the sort. But,
it seems to me, that we act always rashly and imprudently
in bringing such disquisitions into inductive inquiries. They
belong to another subject.
The aim of science may be said to be, to ascertain the
manner in which things actually exist. The doing so, indeed,
has been generally found to bring to light some useful purpose
in their arrangement, and the proofs of benevolent design
thus exhibited, are exceedingly interesting in relation to the
evidence they afford us of the attributes of the great first
cause. But, as science is only progressive, we are never
certain of having ascertained the exact manner of the exist-
ence of any thing, and, therefore, we must often be mistaken
in the ends for which we may conceive that the things we
see are formed. The confident assumption, then, that we
have exactly ascertained, in any case, the precise end, and the
application of this assumed purpose, as a guide to scientific
inquiry, has a decided tendency to retard the progress of
science. For, the supposition that the actual arrangement
is different from what it was conceived to be, is held to be
inadmissible, as it would imply some deviation from the
design for which we assumed it was devised. It is, as Lord
Bacon expresses it, an improper blending of things human and
livine, and a mode of reasoning which he, in my opinion,
with much propriety repeatedly cautions his followers to
The reflections, therefore, as to the probable designs of
ire, in the constitution of the world as the abode of man,
i I have here introduced, would have been excluded, had
N
194 INVENTION ECONOMIC
it not been that Adam Smith, and many other popular writers
on these subjects, sometimes indirectly, in their application
of terms, sometimes directly, in their reasonings, assume, that
the designs of nature are quite opposite to what I have repre-
sented, and make their conceptions of her purposes an argu-
ment in favor of their particular theoretical views.
The embryo doctrine is to be found in Virgil.
"Nonne vides, croceos ut Tmolus odores,
India mittit ebur, molles sua thura Sabaei?
At Chalybes nudi ferrum, virosaque Pontus
Castorea, Eliadum palmas Epirus equarura ?
Continue has leges seternaque foedera certis
Iniposuit natura locis, quo tempore primum
Deucalion vacuum lapides jactavit in orbem."
" Thus Tmolus is with yellow saffron crowned ;
India black ebon and white ivory bears ;
And soft Idume weeps her odorous tears.
Then Pontus sends his beaver stones from far,
And naked Spaniards temper steel for war :
Epirus for the Eleaii chariots, breeds
(In hopes of palms) a race of running steeds.
This is the original contract ; these the laws
Imposed by Nature and by Nature's cause
On sundry places, when Deucalion hurled
His mother's entrails on the desert world." 1
In the same manner as by the poet, the products of different
regions are spoken of by political economists as bestowed on
them by nature, are termed natural productions, and the
attempt to transfer them to other sites, is held to be a pro-
cedure in opposition to the designs of providence, whose inten-
tions, it is asserted, in giving them these productions, were,
that the inhabitants of different countries should exchange the
products of their several territories with one another.
There are, I conceive, two objections to this view of the
subject, the first referring to the term, natural productions ;
the second to the purposes assumed to be the ends designed by
nature.
If by the term, natural productions, we mean things pro-
duced without the aid of art, then no civilized country can be
1 Georgia I. Dryden's Translation.
INVENTION ECONOMIC 195
said to have any natural productions, for to all that it pro-
duces art lends its aid. It were, therefore, I think, better
to substitute for the term, natural productions, that of actual
productions.
But, because one country alone now produces particular
commodities, we are by no means warranted to conclude that
nature intended they should be produced only there. On
the contrary, if we may judge of a scheme by the mode in
which its parts are arranged, and in which they act, her inten-
tions were, that the variety of materials placed before man
should generate the rudiments of arts at different points, but
that these arts should be advanced from their first rough sim-
plicity, and carried to greater and greater excellence, by passing
from one region and people to another. If, therefore, we find
any art confined to a particular region the actual production
of only particular communities, the presumption is, that it is
yet in its infancy, and that it will only be as it is carried to
new countries and other men, and generally diffused over the
whole globe, that it will advance towards maturity. Time
has shown that the supposed laws and decrees of nature, which
the poet declared to be of eternal power, are already abrogated
by the progress of art, in most of the instances he adduces.
The natural productions of Great Britain, serviceable to man,
are certainly very few. The catalogue of her actual produc-
tions, even of those alone in which she preeminently excels,
is greater than that of any region of equal extent. Were
il now alive, he certainly would not cite Albania for
horses, or Spain for iron. These results are entirely the work
of art, to the operations of which it is impossible to put any
bounds. Who can positively say what fifty years hence will
be the productions of any country ?
It is the intention of the inventive faculty, when it applies
If to the arts of ministering to the necessaries, conveniences,
u pert! u i ties of life the wants of our nature that the
subject we treat of considers, to increase the supplio which
th' aim of each to procure. If when it gains tlu> ends
it purposes, it really produces this increase, in doing so, it
must render the labor of the members of the society in which
196 INVENTION ECONOMIC
it operates more effective, and enable them from the same
outlay to produce greater returns, or from less outlay to pro-
duce the same returns, [or from the same outlay to produce
the same returns in less time.] An improvement in the con-
struction of a plough, enables the individual employing that
instrument to plough a greater quantity of land with the same
cattle and labor, or an equal quantity of land with fewer cattle
and less labor. The use of water as a power diminishes very
greatly the labor necessary to perform the operations in which
it is employed, and, therefore, from a less outlay, produces
equal returns. Were the assumption correct, on which we
have been all along proceeding, that instruments compare with
each other by the physical effects they produce, and, that, in
proportion as the same effects result from less outlay, or
greater effects from the same outlay, the ratio of the capacity
of the instrument to its cost will be increased, and it moved
to an order of quicker return ; then the successful exertions of
the inventive faculty would always be effective, and every
discovery, directly or indirectly, lead to real improvement.
This, as we shall presently see, is not always the case, because
many commodities are not estimated by their physical effects ; 1
but continuing for the present the assumption, which, for the
sake of simplicity of exposition we have made, improvement,
in this case, must carry the instruments improved by it to
more speedily returning orders.
It is here also to be observed that, although any particular
improvement, immediately, and at first, affects only the instru-
ments improved, it very shortly diffuses itself over the whole
range of instruments owned by the society. The successful
efforts of the inventive faculty are not a gift to any particular
artists, but to the whole community, and their benefits [are]
divided amongst its members. If an improvement, for in-
stance, in the art of baking bread were effected, by which,
with half the labor and fuel, equally good bread could be
produced, it would not benefit the bakers exclusively, but
would be felt equally over the whole society. The bakers
would have a small additional profit, the whole society would
Rae refers to his theory of luxury. See Article I. in the
Appendix.]
INVENTION ECONOMIC 197
have bread for the product of somewhat less labor, and all
who consumed bread, that is, every member of the society,
would from the same outlay have somewhat larger returns.
e whole series of instruments owned by the society would
somewhat more productive, would be carried to an order of
licker return. 1
In this manner, all improvements, by moving the whole
stock of instruments belonging to any society, to more pro-
ductive orders, increase proportionably its absolute capital
and stock. Should a naturalist, in examining the nature of
the surface on the farm of an individual in a small agricul-
tural society, make the discovery, that beneath it there was a
quantity of plaster of Paris ; and should the farmer, in conse-
quence of his recommendation, sprinkling a little of this
reduced to powder on some of his fields, find that it caused
them to yield double returns, his farm or the lease he held of
it, might in his eyes be doubly valuable, and he might demand
in exchange, and perhaps receive, two other farms of equal
size in its place. Were it, however, found, that a stratum of
this substance extended over the whole range of country
possessed by the society, and was equally efficacious when
applied to any portion of the surface, his farm would not be
more valuable than other farms. The supply [provision],
however, for future wants, possessed by the whole society,
would be largely increased, and, the strength of their effective
desire of accumulation remaining undiminished, their absolute
capital would be proportionably augmented. But, as the
whole stock of instruments [still] remained the same, with the
exception of the difference made by the surface of the fields
having been sprinkled with a quantity of this mineral powder,
i amount, as measured by one another, [or by some par-
ti' uhir instrument taken as a standard and to which all other
instruments are referred (see Chapter VIII.)], would be the
1 This follows from the nature of exchange, see pages 104-106.
[What Rae means by this reference to his theory of exchange in the
)i chapter, is somewhat obscure. It is, apparently, that the system of
separation of employments ami i. -Milting system of exchange, with its
phenomena of competition, forms altogether a benefit- of -progress diffusing
J
198 INVENTION ECONOMIC
same as before. Some instruments might possibly exchange
for a greater amount of instruments of another sort, than
formerly, but this change could no more be considered an
increase in the total value, than the fact of the latter instru-
ment exchanging for a less amount, could be considered an
indication of a diminution of the total exchangable value of
the stock of the society. The relative capital and stock would
thus remain unchanged [for the time being]. But, though
this relative or exchangable value of the society's stock might
remain unchanged, its absolute capital and stock would be
[straightway] increased. The reality of such increase is
marked, in all similar cases, by at least three [attendant]
circumstances.
1. The members of the society possess, in general, a more
abundant provision for future wants, the revenue of the whole
society, and of each individual composing it, is increased.
2. The whole society, as a separate community, becomes
more powerful, in relation to other communities. It can sup-
port the burdens of war, and the expense of all negotiations
and national contracts with foreign powers, with greater ease.
It can also, without inconvenience, execute a greater number
of useful works and undertakings. The imposts which the
state levies for such purposes, in a society where the stock of
instruments is wrought up to an order correspondent to the
average effective desire of accumulation of its members, must
almost always occasion some diminution of that stock. The
returns coming in from their industry, being only sufficient to
reconstruct the instruments as they are severally exhausted,
an additional drain made upon their funds must, in most
cases, prevent the reconstruction of many of them, and conse-
quently occasion a disappearance, to that amount, of a portion
of the general stock. But, when instruments are of more
productive orders than the effective desire of accumulation of
the society demands, the abstraction of a part of their returns
by the state, to supply its exigencies, only carries them nearer,
or brings them altogether, to an order corresponding to the
strength of that desire, and, therefore, interferes not with their
reconstruction. Taxation [in that case] is paid out of revenue,
not out of capital.
INVENTION ECONOMIC 199
3. As it is the effect of improvement, to carry instruments
into orders of quicker return than the accumulative principle
of the society demands, a greater range of materials is brought
within reach of that principle, and it consequently forms
[eventually] an additional amount of instruments. The various
agricultural improvements with which invention enriched that
art in Britain, towards the conclusion of the last and com-
mencement of the present century, occasioned a great amount
of materials to be wrought up, which before lay dormant.
The construction of the plough in Scotland, and generally
over the island, was so improved that two horses did the
work of six oxen. The diminution of outlay thus produced,
giving the farmer, from a smaller capital, an equal return ; he
was encouraged and enabled to apply himself to materials,
which he would otherwise have left, as his forefathers had
done, untouched. He carried off stones from his fields, built
fences, dug ditches, formed drains, and constructed roads.
Lime was discovered to be a profitable manure. The addi-
tional returns, which the hard clay thus converted into a
black loam yielded, were spent in the cultivation of land
before waste, in levelling and reducing to regularity, the rude
ridges of antecedent periods. The culture of turnips was
introduced ; and instead of useless fallows the farmer had a
lur_:e supply of a nutritive food for his cattle. He erected
better buildings for the reception of his stock, he improved
their breed, he transported manure from great distances, he
had his fields trenched deeply with the spade, fresh soil
brought up, and all useless or prejudicial matters buried
beneath. Each succeeding improvement gave a fresh stimulus
to industry, and brought new materials within the compass
of the providence of the agriculturist. Nor was this all; the
ilus reacted also on the inhabitants of the towns, ami
thrir industry was augmented by the increased returns yielded
by the country, and by the new demands made by it. Im-
provements, too, in the branches of industry in which they
themselves engaged, of at least equal extent, carried
thrm forward in a like career. Rocks were quarried ; forests
thinned; lime was burned; the metal left the mini- ;
manufacturing establishments arose ; wharfs, docks,
200 INVENTION ECONOMIC
canals, and bridges were constructed ; villages were changed
into towns, and towns into cities.
It is thus that every improvement animates industry, and,
though it cannot increase immediately the amount of instru-
ments possessed by the society, or the sum of the values
produced by measuring the one with the other, [or all
relatively to the customary standard], shows that the members
of the society really estimate them higher than they would
thus be rated, by their instantly commencing to work up, into
analogous instruments, inferior or more stubborn materials, or
by their working up similar materials more laboriously. The
amount thus wrought up, until the process stops, by the total
instruments constructed arriving at an order correspondent to
the effective desire of accumulation of the society, must depend
entirely on the nature of those materials, and is, therefore,
always a variable quantity, and one never to be ascertained
previous to the event. Sometimes a very small improvement
may put a large range of materials within reach of the ac-
cumulative principle, sometimes a very considerable improve-
ment may not enable it to make much addition to the stock
of instruments before constructed.
When misfortunes befall the general industry of a community,
improvements, though they may not add to the national capital,
prevent or lessen the threatened diminution of it. In agricul-
ture, the introduction of the drill husbandry for grain crops,
and the discovery of new manures ; in manufactures and trade,
the improved construction of steam engines, the discovery of
railroads, and many other recent improvements, have taken off'
part of the weight of the heavy burden, that has of late years
been imposed on the resources of Great Britain.
The high rate of profit, which, unless when counteracting
causes intervene, follows [for a time] the introduction of
improvement, is indicative of an immediate proportional aug-
mentation of the absolute capital of the society, and produces
a subsequent addition to its relative capital, the amount of
which is determined by the additional capacity which the
materials in possession of the community can receive, and by
the quantity of materials of the next lower grades owned
by it. That high rate of profits, again, which arises from
INVENTION ECONOMIC 201
a deficiency in the strength of the effective desire of accumula-
tion, is essentially different. It indicates no increase of the
absolute capital of the society, no recent increase of the re-
venue of its members, no greater ability to support public
burdens, and no approaching increase of relative capital 1 The
want of a clear perception of this distinction, seems to have
led Adam Smith, and some other writers, to speak of high
profits as generally prejudicial
In countries where the effective desire of accumulation is
low, profits are of necessity [permanently] high. Such
countries, too, from their inability to work up into instru-
ments the same materials, must always be poorer than their
neighbors. Hence high profits have been regarded as indicat-
ing, and producing poverty. This prejudice is one source of
tin- errors of Sir Josiah Child on this subject, and it seems to
have given rise to one or two rather declamatory passages in the
Wealth of Nations. " Our merchants and master manufacturers
miplain much of the bad effects of high wages in raising the
:nd thereby lessening the sale of their goods, both at
ic and abroad. They say nothing concerning the bad
effects of high profits ; they are silent with regard to the
pernicious effects of their own gains ; they complain only of
those of other people." 2 Now I apprehend that high profits
ringing from improvement, can never lessen the sale of
1 [It seems to the editor that the application of Rae's expressions
absolute" and "relative" capital or stock might, indeed, with greater
ty be turned right about. What he calls the absolute might be
;is the relative, that is, in accordance with his own explaua-
i, relative to the prevailing effective desire of accumulation in any
iety at any time, taken as a standard. And contrariwise, what he
the r< l.itive might well be considered as the absolute, since its
means the increase of the' actual accumulations embotli. 1 in
iim-nts in any society. When, for example, after a rapid advance
the arts in any country for ten or twenty years, its total stock of
its comes to be priced, let us say, at $900,000,000 instead of
i. "*>.' MR), is not that an indication of an absolute increase of capital?
M of permanency seems to go naturally with the notion of
lateness, and, according to Roc's own showing, any increase, at least
what he calls absolute capital, is essentially ephemeral.]
* Wealth of Xationg, Book I. c. ix. The paradox contained in the
preceding this quotation is exposed by Mr. Ricardo.
202 INVENTION ECONOMIC
goods either at home or abroad, for they do not occasion
a rise in their price, but rather a fall in it. " In countries
which are just advancing to riches, the low rate of profit may,
in the price of many commodities, compensate the high wages
of labor, and enable those countries to sell as cheap as their
less thriving neighbors, among whom the wages of labor may
be lower." l In countries rising to riches, I conceive, on the
contrary that profits will commonly be high. They will be
higher than where, the principle of accumulation having had
time to work up all the materials within reach of its strength,
a stop is put to its farther advancing the stock of existing
instruments, and the state of the society becomes stationary. If
they be lower than in other countries, during the progress,
it is from the greater strength of this principle.
In North America, profits and labor [wages] have been as a
matter of fact permanently high, from the unintermitting
transfer to that continent of European arts, and from the
generation of new arts in the country itself. In Russia the
passage, in like manner, of new arts has kept the rate of
profits high. But, of all civilized countries of the present day,
these, probably, are the most rapidly advancing to riches.
If, in any society, instruments be at orders of speedy return
[and consequently the rate of profits high], and we have not
the [ready] means of ascertaining whether or not this proceeds
from the actual recent progress of invention, we may fairly
conclude it does so, if, in that society, there be much economy,
little luxury, good faith in exchanges, fidelity in the discharge
of promises, credit consequently extensively prevailing, and
few breaches in the peace, or transgressions of the laws of the
community. If, on the contrary, there be little economy, much
luxury, a want of good faith and fidelity, credit narrowed,
frequent public and private crimes, we may certainly conclude
that this position of instruments arises from a deficiency in
the accumulative, not from recent progress of the inventive
principle. 2
It thus appears, that it is through the operation of two
1 Wealth of Nations, Book I. c. ix.
3 [This paragraph is an interpellation taken from p. 322 of the original.]
INVENTION ECONOMIC 203
principles the accumulative, and inventive, that additions
are made to the stocks of communities. It would contribute
something to accuracy of phraseology, and therefore to distinct-
ness of conception, to distinguish their modes of action by the
following terms:
1. Accumulation of stock or capital, is the addition made to
these, through the operation of the accumulative principle.
2. Augmentation of stock or capital, is the addition made to
them, through the operation of the principle of invention.
3. Increase of stock or capital, is the addition made to them,
by the conjoined operation of both principles.
Accumulation of stock diminishes profits ; augmentation of
stock increases profits ; increase of stock neither increases nor
diminishes profits.
["Accumulation" is the embodying of labor (and its equivalents) in
instruments; "augmentation," the embodying of ideas. With "ac-
cumulation " resistance in some form is encountered, and the rate of net
returns declines ; with " augmentation " resistance recedes and the net
yirld rises. With " increase " of capital there is no interval formed
between the progress of the effects of the accumulative and the inventive
principles (both advancing with equal pace), and hence a negative result
as regards the basis of the general rate of profit in the community.
The formation temporarily of an increased interval between the advance
of the accumulative and the inventive principles, is what is called an
increase of "absolute" capital or stock.
Rae uses the term " improvement " in this chapter loosely. Sometimes
it is synonymous with invention, or the direct effects of invention ; at
other times it is the ulterior, collateral effects of invention, as a
particular iiuinifc.stution of it passes from one art to other arts, both to
those which are easier and to those which are more difficult.]
CHAPTER XL
OF EXCHANGES BETWEEN DIFFERENT COMMUNITIES
OF COMMODITIES OTHER THAN LUXURIES.
WE are now able to enter upon the investigation of some
phenomena, relating to the exchange of commodities, which we
have not hitherto particularly noticed. As yet we have only
attended to the laws finally regulating the exchange of com-
modities between individuals of the same society, but it is
necessary that we should also ascertain the general conditions
existing in those exchanges which take place between different
societies.
In our view of the subject, every society considered apart, is
a system within which all circumstances are common and
similar ; and all societies compared together, are systems in
which all or many circumstances are proper to each and
dissimilar to others. The wages of labor, orders of instru-
ments, and profits of stock, in one society, for instance, are
[approximately] the same ; but in different societies, they are,
or may be, diverse. When two persons in the same society
exchange commodities, we have seen that the exchanges they
make are for equal quantities of labor, reckoned according to
the time when applied, and the actual orders of instruments.
This happens because one man's personal labor, or the com-
mand of other men's labor which he may possess, is equal to
another man's personal labor, or the command of other men's
labor which he may possess. In separate societies, however,
this law obviously no longer holds. An individual in one
society, exchanging with another, in another society, cannot
OF INTERNATIONAL TRADE 205
pretend to regulate the amount he is to receive in return by
the power which he possesses, if he conceives too much de-
manded, of turning his own funds to the formation of that
which he desires, for he has no such power. To form the
commodities he in this case desires, it is necessary he
should become a member of the society in which they are
formed, and give up the place he holds in the community of
which he now makes one. If the manufacturers of cloth in
England find that the farmers do not give them, in the form of
wheat, the same quantity of labor that they in exchange give
them in cloth, they will turn their capital to agriculture, and
so reduce the price demanded ; but should they find that
the American farmer puts less labor to the formation of the
wheat he exchanges for their cloth, than that cloth costs them,
they have not the same means of lowering his price.
As the exchanges, therefore, that take place between the
members of different societies, cannot be regulated by the
amount of labor embodied in the commodities fabricated by
each, there would seem to remain, as the foundation of the
principles of such exchanges, only the qualities of the articles
exchanged. If the manufacturers in England find that, includ-
ing the expense of transport, they can have wheat as cheap
from the American farmers as from the British, they will be
inclined to exchange, and if the American farmers find that,
including also the expense of transport, they can have English
cloth as cheap as American, they will be inclined to exchange.
It is evident, too, that the British manufacturer will be more
inclined to exchange, if the American wheat come cheaper
than the British, and the American farmer, if the British
cloth come cheaper than the American.
The commodities to be exchanged between any two societies,
either minister to use, or to luxury, or partly to both.
Th<- subject will present itself in the most simple form, by
discussing separately the divisions of it thus indicated.
I irst, then, we have to consider the principles and effects
be exchanges of commodities which are in no degree
luxuries.
If thr members of one society, having before had no inter-
course with some other society, become aware that in it there
206 OF INTERNATIONAL TRADE
is a commodity of this sort, of which they would desire to have
a supply, the question to be determined is, will they procure
that supply, and if so, what will be the effect thence resulting.
As they have hitherto done without the commodity, they must
already possess some substitute for it. They will then only
seek to procure it, if they can procure it for less labor than the
substitute they already possess ; and if they can procure it for
less labor they will naturally be excited to do so. Were coal,
for instance, the commodity which the members of one society
A possess, and of which the members of another society B
wish to procure a supply, there must be some means in
existence in B, of more or less fully and easily satisfying the
wants which that mineral can supply. It may be, for instance,
that wood is the fuel there consumed. Let us suppose that
three cords of the wood commonly burnt, are equivalent, in the
heat given out by them, to one chaldron of coals ; if, then, in
the society B there be any commodity there equivalent to less
than three cords wood, and which, transported to A, will in A
be equivalent, considered as an utility, to one chaldron coals,
the exchange will be possible, for this difference may pay, or
may do more than pay, for the expense of transport. If, for
example, in the society A timber for architectural purposes be
more scarce than in B, it might happen that the wood used
for fuel in B, when transported to A in logs, would be in
estimation there. It might be that in A, owing to the general
application of the soil to agricultural purposes, and the scarcity
of forest, a quantity of timber, fit for the use of the builder,
such as might be got out of a cord of the fire wood used in B,
might exchange for one chaldron coals. Were, then, an in-
dividual of the society B, to transport to A a quantity of
square timber equivalent in B to three hundred cords of wood,
he might exchange it there for three hundred chaldrons coals,
and might so return to B with a commodity there equivalent
to nine hundred cords of fire wood, thrice the amount which
he had transported from thence. Suppose that the expense of
the transport of both commodities is equal to three hundred
cords, then he will just have doubled the stock embarked in
the enterprise. Were this the state of things, timber, instead
of being consumed as fuel in B, would be transferred to A, and
OF INTERNATIONAL TRADE 207
would return, in the form of coals, an equivalent, after paying
the charges of transport, to double the labor expended in its
formation. But in this state of things the whole advantage
would fall to the society B; fuel would be more easily
obtained there, but timber would not be more easily obtained
in A. As, however, it would be equally in the power of the
iin -tubers of the latter society to send their coals to B, and
there exchange them for wood, were other circumstances
wanting, this alone would have the effect of equalizing the
advantages, and in most cases, therefore, they would come to
be nearly equally divided between two societies so situated.
The first effects, therefore, would be that the same quantity of
fuel which before cost in B three days' labor might now be
obtained for two; and that the quantity of building timber
that in A cost three days' labor, might also be obtained for
two. The revolution effected might nearly compare to an
improvement in both societies, by which, in the one, two cords
fire wood might give equal heat to what three had done, and,
in the other, two logs of timber might serve the same purposes
as three. Like other improvements, they would not be con-
fined in their operation to the particular branches of industry
in which they had place, but would be diffused equally over
both societies, carrying the whole instruments in each towards
the more quickly returning orders. Profits would rise equally
in all employments. The absolute capital of both communities
would be increased in proportion to the augmented provision
made for their future wants. This provision, indeed, would be
so far uncertain, that it might be rendered inaccessible by war.
or other causes interrupting the commerce between the two
countries; and the whole industry and instruments engaged in
it inL'hl, therefore, be compared to a stock engaged in some
hazardous branch of industry, and running a chance of being
lly or partially lost, by the action of uncontrollably
destructive causes. Abstracting, however, the chances to
which they might thus be exposed, they would embody as
real a provision for futurity as any other part of the stock
of either society.
In all exchanges taking place between different societies,
in oummodities which are not luxuries, similar principles
208 OF INTERNATIONAL TRADE
regulating them, and similar effects flowing from them, may be
traced. For, if they derive their value not from the gratifica-
tion they afford to vanity, but from their capacity to supply
real wants, they may be compared with other instruments
belonging to the society, satisfying more or less perfectly the
same class of wants. And when, through the exchange of other
commodities for them, they can be obtained for less labor than
such instruments, they will naturally come to be so obtained,
and will completely or partially fill the place of them. As coals
will compare with cord wood, so indian rubber will compare
with leather, New Zealand weed with hempen cordage, slates
with thatch, copper with iron. In these cases, and in others
where probably mere utility is sought for, there are means of
comparing one thing with another; and the substitution of the
one for the other, when in proportion to the labor necessary
to obtain it, will more effectually supply future wants and is
always a real improvement.
It will often happen that the process will engage in it more
than two societies. Thus, the society B might exchange wood
with C, C might exchange iron with A, and A coal with B.
Similar principles would still, however, guide its progress, and
similar effects result from it. While the exchanges were con-
fined to commodities in no degree luxuries, an increased pro-
vision for future wants would result from them, and a general
augmentation of the absolute capital of the societies receiving
these new supplies, and quickening in them of the accumu-
lative principle, would be experienced. They would in them
all have the general effect of improvements, and would operate,
in the case supposed last, in the same manner as would in B
some discovery facilitating the transport of wood, in C some
discovery facilitating the smelting of iron, in A some discovery
facilitating the mining of coal. The fewer obstructions, there-
fore, that stood in the way of such transfers, the farther, in
these cases, would the stock of instruments in those societies
be carried towards the order A ; as any obstruction that might
occur would, on the contrary, have the effect of checking the
progress towards the more quickly returning orders, and keep-
ing them nearer the order Z.
The benefits to all parties, arising from such an interchange
OF INTERNATIONAL TRADE 209
of commodities as we have described, would be liable to be
interrupted by war or by legislative enactments. These dis-
turbing causes we have afterwards shortly to advert to, but
there is one arising from the progress of invention that may be
properly noticed here.
As there are no limits to the inventive faculty, so no com-
munity can assure itself that any commodity which it now
produces and exports to some other community, may not come
to be produced in that community, and so be no longer
exported there. It may be, for instance, that, to return to the
supposed case we were just considering, in the society B, strata
of coal are discovered so near the surface as to be as easily
wrought as in A, and that the spirit of enterprise may there be
sufficiently active, successfully to engage in the occupation of
mining for them. In that case coals would there be procured
for about five-sixths of the labor they had cost when brought
from A. They would fall in relative value, the absolute capital
of the society would be augmented, and profits proportionally
increased. But while in the society B, the effects of the pro-
gress of invention would be thus beneficial, in A they might
:;ite prejudicially. No exportation of coals could now take
place from A to B, for being necessarily very nearly at the
same price in the one as in the other society, there would be
nothing to pay the expense of transport. Iron then could no
lunger be paid for in coals, unless that commodity sold at a
lower rate. To pay for it, coals must be sold at B for less, or
some other commodity must be resorted to. In the former
case the society A would sustain a sensible loss, comparable to
an increased difficulty in working its mines, and proportional
diminution of the amount of its absolute capital. In the
latter, though the loss might be less, it would nevertheless be
real ; for, by the supposition, coal was the only commodity ex-
ported, and it could only be so because it was the one bringing
best return. The necessity therefore of turning to some
r article, implies the obtaining of a less return, and a con-
sequent diminution of the absolute capital of the society, and.
counterbalanced by thu impress of improvement, or an
in th> strength of the effective desire of accumulation,
a withdrawal from the reach of the accumulative principle of
o
210 OF INTERNATIONAL TRADE
its members, of some portion of materials before within its
grasp.
An interruption of the exchange of articles of real use
between communities checks accumulation, by taking from it
the materials on which it exerts itself; but it excites the in-
ventive faculty, by prompting it to discover fresh materials,
and new means of forming them into instruments. According,
therefore, to the circumstances of the community, and the
nature of the materials within reach of its members, it may
come [in the end] either to be a good or an evil.
Were the intercourse between two communities, of which
the one A exchanges coal for the wool of the other B, sud-
denly to cease, the event might be felt as a very great evil,
and, at first, the substitutes for these materials requiring more
labor to work them up into instruments of the sort required,
the whole stock of instruments possessed by both societies
might be carried on in the series some distance towards the
more slowly returning orders. It might happen, however, that
in the Society B importing coal, there were beds of coal [cap-
able of being made] as easy to work as in A, and that in the
other A importing wool, there were tracts of land as capable of
feeding sheep as those employed for that purpose in B. In
this case, it is probable that invention would apply to such
materials, and that, in time, coal would be obtained in P., at as
cheap a rate as in A, and wool in A at as cheap a rate as in
B. Were it so, by the saving of labor and of time in the
transport of the commodities from country to country, the
stocks of instruments in both societies would be placed in
orders of more quick return than they were at the commence-
ment of the interruption. Whether the loss on the one hand,
or the saving on the other, might, in the circumstances of
either society, be fitly esteemed greater, would depend on
whether or not there were materials in existence that by the
power of invention might with sufficient ease, and within the
requisite time, supply the particular wants in question. There
might not be fit materials, or the time requisite to work them
up might be too long.
Before the cession of Norway to Sweden, it was reckoned to
OF INTERNATIONAL TRADE 211
produce grain or vegetables for its inhabitants sufficient only
for four or five months. Its supplies for the rest of the year
were obtained from Denmark, to which country, in return for
corn received from it, it exported timber. When the great
powers had resolved on its annexation to Sweden, a British
fleet blockaded its coast, the peasantry came in starving crowds
to the towns, and a country from which the bravest race in
Europe once issued, was compelled to yield without a stroke.
The insult then received, and the hardships endured, had the
effect of giving a great stimulus to agriculture. The more
opulent formed themselves into societies for the purpose of
improving the art, individuals skilled in its operations were
ijed in Britain, and in a few years a great addition was
made to the agricultural produce of the country. 1 The time in
this case required [allowed] for the formation of instruments was
too great [short], even supposing there had been a sufficiency of
materials of which to construct them ; and had not, therefore,
the society submitted, it must have endured successive evils.
Many instances, however, might be cited, where the inter-
diction by war of the intercourse between different countries,
has very speedily produced a supply of the commodities
interdicted, and apparently without great injury to the
nation possessing the materials necessary for their forma-
ti"n. "Upon the breaking out of the war with France,"
observes Mr. Gee, 2 "and prohibiting French commodities,
encouragement was given for erecting several of those manu-
factures here, as the lustring, alamode, and other silk manufac-
- for hoods and scarves which the king's royal consort, the
excellent Queen Mary, took no small pains to establish ; for
which article alone it is allowed France drew from us above
400,000 yearly. At the same time the manufacture of glass
was established, which before we used to have from France, and
also that of hats and paper. In his time also the manufac-
s of copper and brass were set on foot, which are brought
to great perfection, and now in a great measure supply the
nation with coppers, kettles, and all other sorts of copper and
Tin-Mr f.i.-t I 1- aim-.] in u tour through that country in 1H18. I have no
means of ascertaining what is now the state of affairs th<
idt and Navigation o/Grtat Britain. Lond. >
212 OF INTERNATIONAL TRADE
brass ware. The making of sail-cloth was begun and carried
on to great perfection, and also sword blades, scissors, and a
great many toys made of steel, which formerly we used to have
from France ; in the manufacture of which, it is said, we now
excel all other nations. The setting up of salt works and im-
proving of salt springs and rock salt, hath proved very beneficial
here, and saves a very great treasure yearly, which we hereto-
fore paid to France for salt and a great many other things
which I forbear to enumerate."
CHAPTER XII.
OF WASTE, OR PURE ECONOMIC LOSS.
THE causes arising from deficiencies in the moral and intel-
lectual powers retarding the progress of improvement and
accumulation, and diminishing the stocks of societies, which we
have hitherto noticed, refer to the matter of which commodi-
ties consist. 1 There are others proceeding apparently from the
same deficiencies, which create difficulties in the exchange
and preservation of instruments, and may be said to relate to
the manner in which exchanges are made and instruments
preserved.
Every thing retarding, or interposing difficulties in the
exchange of instruments, must have the effect of placing them
in orders of slower return. 2 It must lengthen the period of
exhaustion, or add to the labor of formation. Instruments
may be exchanged, as we have seen, either by barter or cash,
h rough the intervention of credit, a promise to deliver an
equivalent at some future time.
I n the case of transfers by barter or cash, were the holders
of instruments so exchanged to represent them exactly for
rlmt they are, all difficulties would be done away with, not
isin_ r from the nature of the things themselves. But it is
e business of every exchanger to buy as cheaply, and sell as
in, they work through the physical make-up of commodities, formed
used for .litl.-ront purposes.
In the original, the treatment of the subject of luxury preceded this
ter.]
* [This broad stntnm-nt is of course subject to the limitations 1 ii<l <l\s n !>
as to the contingent effects of restrictions upon foreign commerce, and
as to the difference between trade in luxuries and other trade.]
214 OF WASTE
dearly, as possible, and he very frequently, I might say gene-
rally, endeavors to do so by representing things to be other
than what they are. Were any one, for example, desirous of
purchasing a horse, morally certain to whatsoever vendor of
those animals he applied, he would tell him, as nearly as he
himself knew, the qualities of the horses he had on hand, and
their just value, any purchase of this sort he might have to
make would be made with facility and at once. The pur-
chaser, however, can seldom depend on the accuracy of the
statements he so receives. He is often obliged to take much
trouble, and to spend no little time, before he makes his bar-
gain, and, notwithstanding, is not unfrequently deceived. The
time and money thus expended, both by the sellers and pur-
chasers of horses, and other commodities, is so much dead
loss to the community, and places the instruments on which
they are expended in orders of more slow return. Indirectly,
too, they may occasion still more serious losses. If a farmer
be deceived in the purchase of a horse, it may very injuriously
retard his operations at the moment when it is most necessary
for him to advance them. If a builder be deceived in the
timber he purchases, it may occasion the speedy decay of the
whole fabric he erects.
The amount of loss arising, both directly and indirectly, from
successful or unsuccessful attempts to pass off commodities for
what they are not, is, I apprehend, determined by the weak-
ness of the social and benevolent affections and intellectual
powers. Where there is the most lively sympathy with the
distresses and losses of others, one will be most restrained
from being the cause of loss to another, both from the prompt-
ings of his own feelings, and from a consideration of the senti-
ments with which others will regard him. Where the tendency
and consequences of actions are most clearly seen, one will be
most cautious of doing any thing, which, by weakening general
confidence and security, may prejudicially affect the interests
of society. Such losses will therefore be least frequent where
the accumulative principle is strongest, and most frequent
where it is weakest.
In China every man who sells tells as many lies as he
thinks have any chance of passing. He is never ashamed at
OF WASTE 215
being detected. When that happens, he merely compliments
the person discovering the intended deception on his sagacity.
Among the ancients, both Greeks and Romans, all sorts of
trickery and artifice in purchasers and sellers seem to have
been common. Plato makes Socrates say that, in traffic and
commerce, there is no such thing as an honest man, and Cicero
has a remark very similar. These, and the like assertions of
classical authors, have indeed, now-a-days, been put down as
mere prejudice; but, though we are doubtless a very acute and
sagacious generation, I can scarce think but that Socrates and
Cicero knew their own countrymen better than we can do.
Mercantile honor and fair dealing are modern terms. With-
out much of the reality of what they import, the extensive
transactions now carried on between individuals and com-
munities could not exist. Nevertheless, the things to which
they are applied want often not a little of being fitly so
described, and the deficiency in all communities occasions
a large portion of the outlay necessary to the formation of
instruments.
Deceit, however, it is to be observed, when exercised in the
exchange of mere luxuries, occasions an immediate gain, instead
of loss, to communities. When there was a prohibition on
;nch silks imported into Britain, they were particularly
lionable, their great expense rendering them a tit material
vanity. The British manufacturer could make fabrics not
l>e distinguished from them, but which of course as British
would not sell. They were, however, readily vended as
mggled French goods, by individuals hired to hawk them
it under that guise. The deceit was certainly an imme-
e loss to no one, and a considerable gain to the manu-
facturer. 1 The ulterior effects of all deceit, however, in
weakening the moral principle, must ever be injurious to
communities.
In exchanges effected by the intervention of credit the
necessity of perfectly fair dealing is more apparent, and tin*
losses occasioned by fraud and deceit still greater. The per-
sons giving the credit must generally depend for H-payim-nt mi
UH good faith of the persons receiving it. The extent c<
1 Haimard's DtbaUa, March 8th, 1824.
:Mi> OF WASTE
quently to which these transactions can in any community be
carried, must be measured by the ^-m>ral probity of its mem-
bers. Where people are inclined to make promises which
they have reason to fear they may not be able to fulfil, or
which they know they cannot fulfil, the system of credit is
confined or destroyed.
[Hut " the formation of instruments is rendered difficult and
costly to individuals," not only from the lack of a " spirit
of integrity in credit transactions," and generally in that
department of economic activities which is called exchange,
but also from all forms of " frauds and violence punish-
able by law," in contrast to mere deceits, in every branch
of business.]
To guard against them always requires some vigilance, and
occasions some expense, and often demands a good deal of both.
The loss hence arising may be very considerable. It is said
that the cloth trade of Verviers, in France, was ruined from
the number of thefts committed in various stages of the manu-
facture, occasioning a loss of about eight per cent, on the
quantity produced.
The iufrequency of crime will also, I apprehend, be found
chiefly to depend on the same principles that give force to the
effective desire of accumulation, the general strength of the
social and benevolent affections, and intellectual powers.
Where a desire of promoting the common good prevails, and
there is a clear perception of the means of doing so, infringe-
ments on the rights of individuals, or violence to their persons,
will be rare. It is the strength of the moral feelings that is
the safeguard of the laws. Where these are destroyed, or
greatly weakened, as where a person has been cast out of the
brotherhood of society by being marked as a criminal, the
dread of corporeal pains is scarcely ever sufficient to deter
from future trespasses.
The establishment of good laws and the security of the
system of government, by diminishing the temptation to
crime, and the chance of escape from its consequences, have
also, no doubt, great effect. But good laws or government
can neither be established nor maintained without good
OF WASTE 217
morals. When purely selfish feelings prevail laws have no
power.
" Quid faciant leges ubi sola pecuuia regnat ? "
The [iiijdirect destruction and waste occasioned by wars
make, also, no small item in the account of losses, to which
the stocks of all communities are subject
Tlu- loss occasioned by the deceits and frauds of individuals,
and by thu prohibitions and violence of states, may not unfitly
be termed waste.
[The expression " Of Waste," which alone was the original title of this
chapter, does not seem adequate. It does not give an impression sufficiently
distinct from that conveyed by the term luxury. According to Rae's treat-
ment of this last subject, and according also to the ordinary usage of language,
ii or industrial energy may be said to be misappropriated or wasted in
luxury. The same takes place through the direct expenditure occasioned by
war and preparations for war.
But what Rae deals with in the present chapter is indirect not direct causes
of loss ; not with wealth which is created and misapplied, but with wealth
which is not created at all. This last is a thing which necessarily escapes the
census-taker in every country, and is indeed the leading subject of our science.
Economics is nothing if it does not develop an eye of the imagination to
see that.
In modern civilized countries, after everything possible is done to minimize
individual crimes and misdemeanors, it is "the prohibitions and violence of
states" which constitute the chief preventable cause of pure economic loss.]
CHAPTER XIII.
OF THE EFFECTS RESULTING FROM DIVERSITIES OF
STRENGTH IN THE ACCUMULATIVE PRINCIPLE, IN
MEMBERS OF THE SAME SOCIETY.
THE mass of the individuals composing any society, being
operated on by the same causes, and having similar manners,
habits, and to a great extent feelings also, must approximate
to each other, in the strength of their effective desires of
accumulation. In the view we have hitherto taken of the
subject, we have considered them, as not only approximating,
but coinciding in this respect. In reality, however, they
do not do so. Though the desire may be generally of nearly
equal strength, throughout the bulk of the society, it cannot
altogether be so, but must vary, in some, in degrees scarcely
perceptible, in others, as in every community there will be
men of characters opposite to their fellows, very largely. But
there are nevertheless circumstances, which, notwithstanding
these variations, restrain and confine the construction of instru-
ments, either altogether to the same order, or to orders much
more nearly approximating to each other, than would be indi-
cated by the strength of the effective desire of accumulation, in
the individuals forming them.
The accumulative principle of the different individuals com-
posing the same society, may vary from the average strength,
either by being above, or below it. There will, in every
society, be some individuals not disposed to construct any
instruments, but such as are of orders of more quick return
OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION 219
than those generally formed ; as there will be others, disposed,
if they have no opportunity otherwise to make additional pro-
vision for futurity, to expend part of their revenue in working
up materials even to orders of slower return, than the average
of the instruments already formed. 1
Persons of the former class, possessing any amount of funds
presently available, would be inclined to apply them to the
formation of instruments, could they obtain materials, returning
so largely as to correspond to the estimate they make of the
future and the present. But they will not be able to find any
such materials, for they will have been previously appropriated,
jii id wrought up more laboriously than they would be inclined
to do, by other members of the society. If, again, the funds
[accumulated means] of an individual of this class, consists of
instruments whose returns are future, he will gradually transfer
UK-HI to other members of the society, whose accumulative
principle is stronger than his own ; for, according to his
estimate of the future and the present, he will receive more for
them than they are worth. 2 It thus happens, that all the
members of any society, whose accumulative principle is
lower than the average, are gradually reduced to poverty.
sime persons, moving to a community where instruments
were of orders of quicker return than those correspondent to
thf strength of their own accumulative principle, would acquire
property. Thus the artisan, or laborer, who, in England, never
thought of saving, is excited to accumulate property, in North
America. The Chinese, who, in Europe, would be very
1 [This last class of accumulators receive an income which includes a clear
bonus, comparing their psychological condition with that of the marginal
avers. The sub-marginal constructors of instruments, and the savers of funds
to invest in titles of property in instruments, are, of course, shut out alto-
in the manner Rae goes on to describe.]
stating the above in the everyday language of the market-place, it
might read, Persons of the former class possessing savable funds would be
< d to invest them, could they find safe investments returning so 1..-
purchase price as to constitute a sufficient inducement. But all safe
securities are selling at too high a price. If such persons happen to own pay-
property already, the "present value" in the market of the series of
annui i l,y it, is so much greater than tin -ir own valuation, according
to thru . Htiinate of present and future (their own "discounting" of tin-
future), that they part with their ownership.]
i2o OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION
prodigals, are accounted frugal in the tropical regions of Asia,
and there attain to considerable wealth.
Individuals whose accumulative principle, is, on the other
hand, stronger than the other members of the community,
would be inclined to construct instruments of orders returning
more slowly than usual, rather than not devote a part of their
present funds to additional provision for futurity. But this is
not necessary. 1 They are the natural recipients of the funds
passing from the hands of the prodigal, and their excess of
providence, balances his defect, and maintains the whole mass
of instruments in the society, at nearly the same orders.
It thus happens, that all instruments capable of transfer, are
in the same society, at nearly the same orders. 2 Some instru-
ments, however, cannot be transferred, for many of them that
are of gradual exhaustion, and directly supply wants, must
belong to the persons exhausting them. Wearing apparel,
household furniture, and sometimes dwelling-houses, cannot be
the property of any other individuals than those in whose
service they are exhausted. Such instruments must often,
therefore, correspond to the strength of the accumulative prin-
ciple of their possessors. If they belong to persons in whom
the strength of this principle is greater than the average of the
society, they will not indeed vary much from the prevailing
orders, the surplus funds of such individuals, going, as we have
seen, to the acquisition of the stock of the prodigal. The
difference is probably just sufficient to indicate the character
of their owners. Thus, if we inspect the dwelling-houses and
furniture of rigid economists, we generally perceive that they
have an air both of durability and efficiency, distinguishing
them from those of the rest of the community.
When, again, individuals, in whom the strength of the
effective desire of accumulation is below the average of the
society, have no other stock but what is embodied in instru-
1 [That is, it is not necessary so far as the general situation existing at any
one time is concerned. With the lapse of time strong savers may, and often
do, descend to a lower margin of investment or accumulation.]
2 [With those not capable of transfer there exists at any time all degrees of
situation in respect to the series of "orders," and hence of differential gains
and losses.]
OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION 221
ments of this sort, these instruments, in their exhaustion of
them, will correspond to the weaker power of this principle.
Such, unfortunately, is sometimes the case, with what are
tt Tined the lower classes of society ; causes to which we shall
afterwards advert, sometimes generate a spirit of improvidence
among these classes, and diminishing the estimation in which
they hold the interests of futurity, incapacitate them from
expending any present funds, as a provision for these interests,
if they do not return either very speedily, or very largely.
The consequence is, that the instruments of this sort which
they possess, have but a very small capacity for the supply of
their coming needs, and that they are unable to extricate them-
selves from pressing poverty.
Thus, suppose that a man in this class, has two different
hats offered him, the present appearance, and immediate com-
fort in the wear of which are nearly equal, but of which the
one, from its being formed of better materials, and these
wrought up with more care, is much more durable than the
other, and cannot be afforded but at a higher price than it.
Let it be that four days' labor is demanded for the one, and six
and a half for the other, but that the former will last only one
year, the latter two. It is evident, that, if the effective desire
of accumulation of the individual is very weak, not carrying
him beyond the order A, he will prefer the former, and at the
expiration of the year will consequently have to expend again
an equivalent to four days' labor, instead of having this want
supplied by a previous expenditure of two and a half days'
labor. 1
We may, in most cases, judge very accurately of the strength
of this principle among individuals of this order of society,
peasants, mechanics, day-laborers, and domestic servants, by
jualities of the instruments of these sorts with which they
provide themselves. By observing, for example, the kind of
shoes, gowns, blankets, which a woman in this rank of life
1 It ia a matter of indifference, it may be observed, to the hat maker,
two he disposes of. Hoth hats are to him instruments for procuring
lalwr, or some equivalent to it. Of all his stock, it is only the qualities of the
makes choice of for his own wear, that can, in any degree, indicate the
strength of his own effective desire of accumulation.
222 OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION
purchases, one may form a near guess of her character. Were
she to make a point of selecting such as would wear well,
though somewhat dearer, or less showy, we might safely con-
clude that the influence of the present, did not prevent the
interests of the future from being carefully regarded. On the
contrary, did she choose the unsubstantial, but more showy, or
cheaper article, we might with equal certainty infer, that the
present, in her estimation, far outweighed the future. All \\li<
have had opportunities of making such observations, must hnvi>
remarked the influence, which the one line of conduct, or the
other, exercises on such individuals. The difference between
them constitutes the main distinction between thrift, and un-
thrift, the former of which is the only safe means that persons
in the lower walks of life possess, through which they may give
a beginning to their fortunes. The store accumulated by the
exercise of the virtue of providence, which, as it shows itself
in them, we thus denominate, enables them to turn the funds of
their daily labor to the construction of other instruments than
those, and, at length, to add largely to that stock which is
destined to supply the future wants of the whole society.
What is true concerning one individual, is true concerning
many, and on this account, the degree of strength of this
principle possessed by what are called the lower orders,
exercises a great influence on the amount of the general stock,
accumulated by the society. The influence, in this respect, of
those who form that class, is, indeed, much more important
than we might at first suspect. Their greater numbers would
alone make up for the smaller power of each, but besides the
weight which this consideration is entitled to, the amount of
labor that may, with advantage, be accumulated by the mere
working man, in instruments of this sort, is, in reality, very
considerable. His dwelling and its contents may fitly be con-
sidered as a store that he possesses, for the supply of the
future wants of himself and family, or, what is the same thing,
for the abridgment of their future labor; and according as
there is much or little of this provision wrought up in them,
will the one be supplied or the other saved. First, the house
itself, as the place in which he and they live, and pursue many
of their various occupations, will not yield the advantages it
OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION 223
ought, if the apartments be not so roomy and well lighted, as
neither from the closeness of the atmosphere to induce debility
or disease, nor, from their confinedness and obscurity, to cramp
and retard the inmates in their several labors. Then, accord-
ing to the compactness and finish that is given to the walls
;u ul other parts will the inclemency of the weather be more or
lea excluded, and a greater or less quantity of fuel, be in
future requisite. The cupboards, where things may be readily
put past, and as readily found, and where they are preserved
from destroying causes and accidents, the cooking utensils, the
bedding, and the numerous other articles of the sort, that
enter into the domestic economy of a frugal and industrious
family, are to be considered, in like manner, as so many means
by which future labor, or future expense, may be prevented or
diminished. The extent of the saving which the provident
working man in this way effects, is sometimes very great. In
a rude, or imperfectly finished fabric, fuel must be wasted ; in
one where there are not proper conveniences for preserving and
c ".king food, food must be wasted; and where there are not
fit places for depositing articles of wearing apparel, they must
soon get dirty, and receive much unnecessary damage. In a
well finished, and convenient habitation, too, the inmates lose
no time, either from torpor in winter's cold, or languor in
su miner's heat; they have space and comfort to pursue their
various labors, and unless it be the periods given to repose,
iiinl to their meals, may employ the whole time they spend at
home, in some useful or agreeable occupation. The animal
frame, also, it is to be observed, when exposed to the extremes
of heat and cold, and to damp, seems to require a greater
ly of nourishment, than when properly sheltered and pro-
<1. This is seen in the inferior animals, and agreeing with
tln-in in other parts of his corporeal constitution, man does not
differ trom them, and when comfortably lodged, is pre-
served in health and vigor, on a diet which he would else find
too scanty. The amount of provision for future needs, that
in a similar manner, be embodied by a laborer or
inic having a family, in [superior] bedding, and other
furniture, and in kitchen utensils, is very considerable. 1
'If tin- reader be skeptical concerning tho effects of a sufficient supply of
224- OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION
It is to be here observed, that the prevalence of a really
economical spirit among the working class, implies no diminu-
tion of the [aggregate] purchases made by them. On the
contrary, it being the desire of the laborer, under such a
su imposition, to turn every sixpence he can earn to some useful
employment, either to the acquisition of necessaries, or other
commodities, he must have as many demands on the capitalist
[on the general market] as before. The change produced,
would be, in the articles purchased. The proportion of those
providing for the wants of futurity would increase, that of those
ministering to the gratifications of the present, diminish.
Thus, such a spirit pervading the working classes in Great
Britain, at the present period, would probably lead them to
abandon all delicacies of fare, and would occasion a diminished
consumption of alcoholic liquors, tea, coffee, silks, expensive
calicoes, and the more showy articles of apparel. It would,
on the other hand, increase the demand for the higher priced,
and more substantial cloths, cottons, blankets, kitchen utensils,
and articles of that sort, and for all matters used in the con-
struction of dwelling-houses.
Neither, it is to be observed, would the prevalence of a
contrary spirit among those orders, and a proneness to seize
on the enjoyments of the present, occasion any immediate
diminution of their demands on the capitalist. It would
merely lead to his providing for them a greater amount of
instruments of sudden exhaustion, contributing to the gratifi-
cation of the instant, and a smaller amount of those of gradual
exhaustion, providing for the wants of futurity ; and to his
giving a construction to the latter, that might make them
correspond during the period of their exhaustion, to the lower
degree of the accumulative principle of the individuals in
whose service they were to be exhausted. Such a circumstance
would, therefore, occasion the production of a larger portion of
materials and utensils, in diminishing the expense of diet, I would request him
to read Count Rumford's Essay*.
[It is apparent that the foregoing argument inculcating the virtue of thrift,
is very different from the usual one. For poor people to save money, as they
are commonly urged to do, often causes them to pursue a most uneconomical
course of action. ]
OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION 2:.v>
delicacies, of articles of nourishment more grateful to the
senses, but not more nutritious or more wholesome than
cheaper fare, of fewer substantial articles of dress and furni-
ture, and more of those that are flimsy and showy.
The whole stock of instruments owned by the laboring
population, would thus contain a smaller amount of the means
of lessening future labor, or expense, as their effective desire
of accumulation diminished in strength. Even instruments
that they do not own, but of which they pay for the use, as
dwelling-houses rented by them, are in a great measure,
reduced to the same order as those which they would them-
selves form. In the rank of society above them, improvidence
is long before it show on the dwelling, it attacks first other
funds ; but, as they have not these other funds, it necessarily
shows itself in the funds they have. Thus, if a family of
improvident habits get the use of the best finished dwelling,
they soon so damage it, as to deprive it of its efficiency.
Some manifestation of what we call careless habits, want,
that is, of taking thought of the consequences of what one is
doing, breaks, we shall say, a pane or two of glass, in some of
the windows. To get these replaced is present expense, and
trouble ; demands, perhaps, the doing without a pot or two of
liquor, or some other immediate enjoyment, and requires the
trouble of going for the glazier, or acting for him. An old
hat or two, or some bundles of rags, stuffed into the holes,
shifts off this denial of present pleasure, or ease, to some other
time, a time which, similar habits, while they render the
arrival of it more needful, indefinitely postpone ; and the
window that had been formed to exclude wind and wet, and
admit light, serves, at last, to let in the wet and wind, and
shut out the light. Pursue the effects of these habits, this
absorption in the present, and heedlessness of the future, as
they show themselves upon the plaster, the floor, the ceiling,
and we shall find them soon doing away with the efficiency of
the whole dwelling, for procuring enjoyment, or saving toil,
and reducing it, as far as it is a provision for the future wants
n mates, to a condition little superior to that of the
rable mud hut.
The presence of this evil, to a greater or less extent, is
p
or ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION
marked, by the high rates of interest given, for the petty sums
borrowed by individuals of this class. The increase that is
said to have taken place in the number of pawn-brokers' shops
in England, and the high rate of interest there demanded, and
given, by mechanics, for small loans afforded to one another,
would seem to indicate its presence, to a degree sufficient to
alarm a lover of his country. 1
When we come to treat of the causes that seem the great
agents in diminishing the stock owned by a community, the
mode in which the strength of the accumulative principle is
weakened, and extravagance introduced among the lower
classes, and the effects arising from these circumstances, will
present themselves to our notice. It will then appear, that
this diversity of the orders of instruments owned throughout
a community, can never exceed certain limits. On this
account, and because the stock belonging to the lower classes,
when the accumulative principle is much lower with them than
with the higher ranks, is always inconsiderable, the orders to
which instruments belong in the same society, and the [pecuni-
ary] returns they make, or the ordinary profits of stock, may
be said to be nearly equal throughout every community.
This uniformity in the orders of instruments, and in the
returns made by them, in conjunction with the system of
calculation, by which, as we have seen, transactions relating
to the transfer and accumulation of capital are regulated, pro-
duces effects on the conceptions of the individuals concerned,
worthy of being noticed.
The rules by which all persons regulate their proceedings
in the construction of instruments, are drawn from the
[pecuniary] returns made by them, that is, the profits yielded
by them. If an instrument, or a series of instruments, which
it is proposed to construct, promise to yield the usual profits,
the enterprise is undertaken, and, if it make the anticipated
returns, it is considered a profitable, or gaining business ; if it
do not promise to yield, and do not yield the usual profits, it
1 Pawn-brokers charge, I believe, about 20 per cent. The combinations of
the working classes in societies, or unions, have lent their members small
sums, if I well remember, at a rate nearly equal. I cannot, however, recollect
my authority for these statements.
OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION 227
is considered an unprofitable, or losing business. Probably,
too, it is not considered, that this mode of expression is
correct, only as relative to a particular society, and not abso-
lutely, to all societies, and that what in one country or time,
may be an unprofitable undertaking, will, without any change
of returns, be profitable in another country or time, and vice
Thus, suppose an English land-holder, whose income far
exceeded his outgoings, to be asked why he does not apply
his means to enclosing and draining some sea marsh, his
answer probably would be, " it would not pay : it would only
yield me two per cent, when finished, and landed property
ought to yield four; I can always find estates to purchase,
which will produce that." Ask him, why, instead of stone
fences round his fields, which decay, or hedges, which require
constant trimming and dressing, he does not put iron railings,
he will give the same answer, " it would not pay." Ask the
house-builder, why this is not cut stone, instead of brick, that
u;ik instead of pine, this again iron instead of oak, or that
copper instead of iron, and consequently the whole fabric
doubly durable, he also will reply " it will not pay." In all
these cases, and a thousand others that might be put, the
ver is abundantly sufficient as regards the individual, but
> answer at all as regards the society. The only answer
that can be given, in old countries at least, for such or similar
neglect of materials, is, that there, the effective desire of
accumulation is not sufficiently strong, to reach them, in the
present state of science and art. Were there fewer prodigal
land-holders in England, estates could not be so easily got,
and part of the funds of those who buy estates, would be laid
out in improving land at present unproductive, and the salt
marsh mi_'ht be drained. In the same way, houses and other
instruments would become more substantial, and better finished,
were the strength of the accumulative principle throughout
th. whole society to advance.
In China, precisely similar replies would be made by
capitalists, concerning the draining of marshes, the erection of
more substantial buildings, and other enterprises requiring a
large present exp< -nditure, for a remote future return. There,
228 OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION
such undertakings would be really unprofitable, not paying
the usual profits of stock; and they can only in like manner
become profitable, by the accumulative principle acquiring
increased strength, and instruments being wrought up gene-
rally to orders of slower return.
This, however, is not the view which most readily presents
itself to practical men. To a person engaged in the practice of
an art, the particular mode which the circumstances of the
country to which he belongs has rendered the most profitable,
and best, is considered as absolutely the best, and most profit-
able; and if he remove to another country, he is apt to conceive
not only that his knowledge of the art is superior, which may
perhaps be true, but that the precise mode in which he applies
that knowledge to practice, is also the best, that can any-
where be adopted, which is very possibly erroneous.
An English farmer, for example, who comes to North
America to pursue his art, almost always commences on the
same system which he followed in Britain. His agricultural
implements, his harness, his carts, waggons, etc., are all of the
most durable and complete, and, therefore, of the most expen-
sive construction, and his fields are tilled as laboriously, and
carefully, as were those he cultivated in his native land.
Some time usually elapses, before he discovers that he may do
better by being content with more simple, and less highly
finished implements, and that it will be for his advantage to
cultivate his land less laboriously, though not less systemati-
cally. His neighbours tell him, indeed, from the first, that if
he expects the same profits as they have, he must have less
dead stock on his hands, and must give more activity to his
capital ; but he is slow of believing them.
Similar observations might be made, concerning almost
every other class of artists, who emigrate to the new world.
They all, at first, give a degree of finish to the materials on
which they employ their industry, that is unsuited to the
circumstances of the country.
[But while individual or class divergencies from what may
be called the standard of the effective desire of accumulation
in any society, produce but relatively unimportant effects upon
the character of the mass of instruments possessed by members
OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION 229
of the society, they produce effects of the utmost importance
(as has already been suggested), upon the character of the
population itself. Instruments at any time stand at approxi-
mately the same " orders," but the members of all advanced
societies are stratified. To treat economic stratification ade-
quately would necessitate a study of great complexity, since
it comes about through the operation of several principles, in
addition to the pure accumulative principle, " always acting
in combination." Some further consideration of the subject is
as follows.]
To add continually to the stock of any community, even
rimes to maintain it without diminution at its actual
amount, is a process in the prosecution of which difficulties
always oppose. While the funds of any society increase, the
numbers among whom those funds are to be shared also
[normally] increase. The greater annual revenue which in-
vention and accumulation provide, though it must support a
more numerous population, may not support a population
having, individually, a greater share [amount] of the means of
comfort or pleasure, than that possessed by the members of
th- society when improvement was yet in its infancy. To
carry the community still farther onward, even perhaps to
maintain it in its place, requires, therefore, generally, that the
interests of futurity should hold the same relation to those of
present time in the minds of the members of the society as
If, therefore, among any of the divisions of the body
politic, futurity weighs more lightly when compared with the
present than it did before, there there will be weakness,
an incapacity to advance or even to maintain the same
position may be experienced, and, that which is defective
<1 rawing to it what is sound, from this point the progress from
to wnrs. may commence. The course of society may thus
be said to be always an opposing current, which, if it
can not be stemmed, sweeps downward with headlong force.
" Sic omnia fatia
In pejus ruere, ac retro aublapsu irfrn i.
Non aliter, quam qui adverse vix lluinin.- 1. -minim
Reniigiis subegit : si brachia forte rein
Atque ilium in pnecepa prono rapit alveus anmi.
230 OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION
As a foundation for the few observations which our limits
permit me to make on this part of the subject, it is necessary
to refer to a circumstance, the truth of which was assumed in
an early part of the discussion. " The numbers of every
society," it was said, " increase, as what its members are
inclined to esteem a sufficient subsistence, is provided for
them." !
The only classes in society which our inquiry has con-
sidered, are the two of capitalists and laborers. With regard
to them we might a priori, and abstracting our attention from
what we know to be the fact, be in doubt which of the follow-
ing suppositions would be correct.
We might suppose that both classes would reckon that a
sufficient subsistence which had supported themselves [in the
past], and that the numbers of both being equally multiplied,
the average revenues of the individuals composing both might
remain the same ; or we might suppose that neither class
would reckon that a sufficient subsistence on which they had
been supported, and that they would not add to their numbers
but in a proportion less than the additional funds provided,
so that the average individual incomes of both capitalists and
laborers, would be equally and continually increased ; or,
finally, we might suppose that the capitalists would add more
to their numbers than to their revenues, or that the laborers
might do the same thing.
But though it might be difficult, a priori, to determine
which of these would take place, yet, in fact, we generally find
that, in the progress of society, the increase of the numbers of
capitalists does not keep pace with the increase of their stocks
and incomes, while that of laborers does keep pace, or does
more than keep pace, with their incomes.
The cause of this circumstance may, I think, be shortly
stated as follows.
Marriage may be desired both for the pleasures of sense,
and for those of sentiment and affection. But, among men of
even moderate fortune, it does not in general add to the sum
of their purely sensual gratifications. It were obviously absurd,
considering the lives which most young men in this class in
1 See Chapter III.
OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION 231
Europe lead, to speak of celibacy as implying abstinence.
Purely selfish motives will never, therefore, lead such men to
form this connexion. They will rather keep them from it,
vanity aiding, or prompting them to the resolution of refrain-
in <_: from any such union, until they have a prospect of raising
their families above their own rank.
Among men in the laboring class, again, marriage generally
adds to the amount of immediate sensual gratifications. Purely
selfish motives, therefore, side with those of sentiment and
affection in prompting them to it, and they are not so apt to
entertain the ambition of raising their families above their own
condition. Hence, while capitalists are inclined to think that
only a sufficient subsistence for their offspring, which exceeds
what they themselves were supported on, laborers are content
if they leave their children in the same condition as them-
selves. It thus happens, that the one class has a tendency
continually to rise above the other.
This separation has farther effects.
Vanity itself is sometimes a coadjutor to the accumulative
principle. A man's pride is sensibly gratified by rising, as it
is called, in the world, and placing himself on an equality with
those to whom he was once inferior. But the further they are
above him, the greater his difficulty in raising himself to their
level, and the less his hopes of any gratification to mere vanity
from this source. It is, I apprehend, in a great measure on
this account, that as capital increases, there are fewer instances
of laborers making vigorous efforts to accumulate property.
Vanity, losing hopes of acquiring distinction by accumulation,
is entirely occupied in exciting to [economic] dissipation. The
laborer seeks preeminence in displaying his abilities to spend,
and employs any spare funds he may possess in the purchase
of fineries, in treating his companions at the ale-house, and in
similar extravagancies.
The prevalence of such habits and sentiments among the
laboring classes, produces various evils. Neglect to employ
any part of the earnings of to-day, in making provision for the
wants of to-morrow, every now and then, \vln-n that morrow
hriiiL's nothing for itself, gives rise to severe suffering. The
condition of the laborer fluctuates between abundance and
232 OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION
dissipation, and want and misery. The society loses, first, the
benefits of that stock, which the laboring classes accumulate in
a better state of things. It loses, also, the amount requisite
to keep the laborer from starvation when in necessity, or to
raise up other laborers, to supply the place of those who
perish from want, or the diseases consequent on it. These
may be called direct evils ; those which are indirect are much
greater.
Waste [as previously defined and explained] accompanies
dissipation. When laborers are in general improvident and
extravagant, very many of them must be dishonest. Men are
naturally suspicious of persons whose expenditure exceeds the
bounds of prudence, and they have too often reason to be so.
Honesty is at last the best policy, but it is only at last.
Deceit and knavery very often succeed better at first, and,
therefore, people who look not beyond what is present and
immediate, are very apt to resort to artifice and fraud, to get
rid of the necessities which their extravagance brings on them.
Hence, such a state of things would imply much watchfulness,
many checks and contrivances to guard against fraud and
violence, and much loss, both from them and from the expen-
sive machinery necessary to restrain them. The most pre-
judicial, however, of all the mischiefs that belong to our
subject, brought on by vicious principles of action pervading
the lower classes, is the gradual spread of similar manners and
feelings through all the orders of the state. The middle and
higher classes of society may be said to rest upon the lower ;
when decay, therefore, infects the foundation, the structure
must fall. By looking back for a generation or two, we shall
find that nearly all the capitalists in the nation have sprung
directly from the people, and that to them we must finally
trace the greater part of that honorable enterprise, frugality,
and perseverance, which have given prosperity and power to
the state. When the principles that actuate the great lower
and sustaining mass have a large mixture of benevolence, self-
denial, and probity, and when there is nothing in the institu-
tions of the society keeping them down as a degraded caste,
there is a constant mounting upwards of the elements of
health and strength, giving firmness and vigor to the whole
OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION 233
body politic. When, on the contrary, the proper vices of the
higher ranks, luxury, extravagance, and their attendant evils,
instead of being counteracted by a continual infusion of the
severer manners, and more self-denying morals, that should
belong to the lower, find those orders partaking as far as
possible their follies and levities, admiring them, and if
required ready to minister to them, we may assure ourselves
that much unsoundness lurks beneath whatever show of pros-
perity the outward condition of national affairs may exhibit.
It will, I believe, be found that, in civilized societies, decay
has generally thus proceeded from below upwards, and that a
deficiency in the lower classes, of the principles exciting to
economy, has gradually checked accumulation and invention
throughout the whole body, and at length produced universal
degeneracy and decay, and introduced the reign of waste and
violence. " Semper in civitate, quibus opes nulla? suiit, bonis
invident; vetera odere, nova exoptant ; odia suarum rerum
mutare omnia petunt."
The experience of all ages proves the justice of the observa-
tion of the Roman historian. That state can never enjoy
tranquillity, which is oppressed by a crowd of
"Hungry beggars,
Thirsting for a time of pell-mell havock
And confusion."
But to trace at length the connexion between these [various
social tendencies] is impossible, without reference to the
subjects of rent, and of population, which are not embraced
in our plan. I may, however, in conclusion, observe that
though, for the sake of simplicity of exposition, I have
assumed, all along, that the wages of labor constitute an in-
variable quantity, I yet conceive that, in a society making
a steady and healthy progress, they should rather be con-
tinually increasing, the laborer as well as the capitalist,
gaining something by the improvements which the progress
of invention produces.
[A portion of Rae's Essay on JSdiication (184.".), mentioned
in the biographical sketch, may be reproduced to advantage in
connection.]
234 OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION
" The unsatisfactory results on human happiness which the
progress of civilization has hitherto exhibited, as measured by
the visible condition of any ten thousand taken at random
from the ancient and modern population of Great Britain, has
given rise there to a feeling of despondency and alarm among
a numerous and not uninttuential class, as to the results that
are to spring from its farther advance. They dread any
further progress. They would wish to stop where we are
even, if possible, to bring things back to the condition of the
good old days of our fathers. It is a vain attempt, we are
hurried forward by an irresistible impulse. All in our power
to do is to use every effort to direct our onward course aright.
Art and science, and with them wealth, must increase and
advance. The sphere of real philanthropic exertion is confined
to elaborating the possible good they may produce, restraining
and extirpating their possible evils.
" Now, though the subject has given rise to many intricate
and perhaps not very satisfactory discussions, there is one view
that may be taken of this progress of science, art, and wealth,
as affecting the condition of humanity, by no means difficult to
seize, and which will sufficiently indicate one main cause of
the evils that have overtaken, and those which yet threaten to
overtake, our modern civilization.
" It is in the nature of this progress to convert the original
simple and rude tools, first, into instruments of greater cost
and efficiency, and these again into complex and difficultly
constructed machines, still more costly and still more efficient.
The distaff becomes a spinning wheel ; and that, changing its
form, and wrought by other powers, is made part of a woollen
factory. The rough edged blade of the original knife is first
cut into a regular saw, wrought by one hand ; it is then put
into a frame, which two men operate; and this, in turn,
by means of crank and pinions, is made to go by water,
and becomes a saw-mill. Even a farm, in this manner,
with all its appendages, may be said to become a great
machine or factory a factory for the production of crops.
What was before the work of the hands from year to year,
is now, in such countries as England, brought about in
a great degree by machinery and scientific processes, re-
OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION 235
quiring a large surface to operate on, and many years for
their completion.
" And so it is with all our implements, they are passing on
to great machines. This progress can be averted by no con-
ceivable process that would not have the effect of fettering all
the active powers of humanity. It is the inevitable con-
sequence of man's asserting and employing the dominion over
the realms of nature which his Creator has bestowed on him.
Placing ourselves in the position of the philosophers of the age
of Bacon, it will be difficult for us to assign a reason why we
would not have hailed the discoveries of which they are the
results as great inventions, conferring benefits on the whole
human race, without being a means of occasioning wrong or
sorrow to anyone. 1 And yet there was a question which might
by possibility have occurred to the philosophic philanthropists
of that day. 'Who are to be the owners of these great
machines ? Will the mechanics and artisans who now wield
the tools own the machines, or will they be the property of a
distinct class ? ' We cannot ascertain how they might have
a priori determined the question. It is most likely, perhaps,
that they would have conceived that the owners of the tools,
clubbing together to purchase machines, would have owned the
machines. To us, experience has determined it. So constantly
has it occurred that it may be said it has invariably happened,
that the former artisans, in giving up their tools, have never
become the owners of the machines that have succeeded them.
These machines, manufactories, or whatever name may be
given them, come to be owned by a distinct class. The opera-
tive has no property share in the industrial operation, he owns
nothing but his hands and the art of using them fitly. For
opportunity to use them, and for pay for their use, he depi'inis
on the owner of the machine. He suffers in consequence
a degradation in the social scale. Formerly he was a small
capitalist, now it is the characteristic of his condition to be a
re operative, destitute of capital. The difference may U
seen by recalling the pictures left by Hogarth and Scott, when
<Dim inventorum beneficia ad univerautn genus humanum pertinere
ponunt invent* beant et beneficium deferent absque alicujus injuria ant
tnstitia.
236 OF ECONOMIC STRATIFICATION
the change was just coining over them. Compare the in-
dustrious apprentice and the father of Bailie Nicol Jarvie,
with the present factory boy, or look at the fate which, in our
conception, awaits any of our handicrafts when the revolution
[through which modern industry seems destined to pass in all
its branches is complete]."
CHAPTER XIV.
OF THE PRINCIPLE OF THE DIVISION OF LABOR
N"T having been able without interrupting the course of
investigation, to enter into a discussion of the principle of
the division of labor, as viewed by Adam Smith, I have
thought it better to place apart the observations I have to
make on it. 1
In the Wealth of Nations, the division of labor is con-
sidered the great generator of invention and improvement,
and so [indirectly] of the accumulation of capital. In the
view I have given, it is represented as proceeding from the
antecedent progress of invention, and increase of stock, and
as operating chiefly by quickening the exhaustion of instru-
ments, and so placing them in orders of more speedy return.
N"\v in reality, as far as its origin is concerned, the account
of the matter which we find in the Wealth of Nations, is
more favorable to the latter supposition, than to the former.
" In a tribe of hunters, or shepherds, a particular person
makes bows and arrows, for example, with more readiness
and dexterity than any other. He frequently exchanges them
attle or for venison, with his companions; and he finds
at last that he can in this manner get more cattle and
on, than if he himself went to the field to catch them.
From a regard to his own interest, therefore, the making of
bows and arrows grows to be his chief business, and he
becomes a sort of armorer. Another excels in making the
s and covers of their little huts or moveable houses.
I the original this chapter was an " appendix " to the second " Book."]
238 OF DIVISION OF LABOR
He is accustomed to be of use in this way to his neighbors,
who reward him in the same manner with cattle and with
venison, till at last he finds it his interest to dedicate him-
self entirely to this employment, and to become a sort of house
carpenter. In the same manner a third becomes a smith or
a brazier ; a fourth a tanner or dresser of hides or skins, the
principal part of the clothing of savages."
If this be a true account of matters, it is evident, that
it is the antecedent progress of invention, and the existence
of the several arts of the bow- maker, the hunter, the car-
penter, the brazier that is the real cause of the separation
of the members of the society into artists of different sorts.
I rather think, however, that it will be found, that separate
artists have come to exist from the passage of individuals
from one community to another, and there carrying with
them the arts proper to each. 1 If, for example, in any par-
ticular tribe, the art of reducing from the ore and working
up some of the metals, were well known, and were chance
to throw a member of it among another tribe ignorant of
this art, he might come to employ himself altogether in the
smelting and giving form to metal, and there might come to
be a class, whose chief employment were that of working in
metal. But it is of little consequence how the separation of
employments was brought about. The real question is, do
the acknowledged advantages of it proceed directly from the
* increased efficiency of the labor of the workman ; or from
the stock of instruments of the society being thus in much
more constant employment, and its being, therefore, in the
power of the accumulative principle to give them a much
more effective construction.
The efficiency of the labor of the workman may be ad-
vanced, either by his dexterity being increased, or by an
improvement in the construction of the implements with
which he works.
1 [Rae is supported in this surmise by Biicher (Industrial Evolution), who
maintains that the primitive division of employments was inter-tribal,
rather than by classes and individuals within each tribe. From the earliest
times there has been, however, a separation of employments as between
the sexes, affording a point of origin of arts.]
OF DIVISION OF LABOR 239
1. As concerns his dexterity, it is to be noted that it is
chiefly in the beginning of art that great manual dexterity
is requisite. Then the hand is the great instrument. The
manual dexterity of the savage in hurling his dart, or shoot-
ing with his bow and arrow, in guiding his canoe by the
pole or paddle, in framing his fishing and hunting apparatus
with the rude tools he possesses, far exceeds that necessary
to the civilized man, not only in the common, but even in
more delicate arts of civilized life ; and, were we to take
into the account things generally confounded with manual
dexterity, quickness and accuracy of sight, and delicacy and
flexibility of the other organs, the disparity between the two
would be much greater. As art advances from its first rude
elements, the hand does less, the instrument more. To
acquire the manual dexterity necessary to guide a bark canoe
with security and speed, requires the practice of years. To
row a boat equally well might be learned in a few months.
The mere manual dexterity necessary to move the different
pieces of mechanism that govern the motion of a steam-
boat, might be acquired in a few days or hours.
It may be remarked, that the examples of this dexterity
adduced in the Wealth of Nations, are from arts where the
implements are exceedingly simple, and where, of conse-
quence, the hand is the great operator. Were improvements
taking place in the art of pin-making, or nail-making, that
would be done by the instrument which is now done by the
quick and complex motions of the hand. In fact, in the
arts in which the greatest improvements have had place,
such as in the cotton manufacture, the mere manual dex-
terity requisite is very easily acquired. In a few weeks, or
months, the limit is attained. But, when the manual dex-
terity requisite for the practice of any art can be attained
in so short a time, it cannot matter much to the society or
to the individual, whether the workman have to learn one
or several arts. Besides, the acquisition of any difficult art
much facilitates the attainment of any other. The
great matter is to get, as a workman expresses it, the use
of one's hands. To become familiar, that is to say, with
handling matters of various sorts, judging of their forms and
240 OF DIVISION OF LABOR
qualities, and acquiring the power of determining the move-
ment to be given, and the habit of executing it quickly and
accurately. When this is acquired, there is no great diffi-
culty in the management of any common tool, if once the
principle on which it operates be understood. Hence a good
workman in any trade, displays comparatively but trifling
awkwardness in applying himself to any other. Almost all
he requires is to know how a thing is done, and to under-
stand how the implements employed operate. This is very
observable in the progress of new settlements in America,
where I have seldom seen a good mechanic have much diffi-
culty in turning his hand, as it is said, to any thing.
Agriculture, from its nature, is the art in which the divi-
sion of labor has made least progress. Were it possible to
conceive that, by the operation of any circumstance, it could
there be carried to its full extent, whether would its benefits
be felt, in the increased dexterity of the workman, or in
the increased efficiency of the instruments employed ? At
present a man employed in such work, generally ploughs,
harrows, reaps, mows, threshes, and drives as well at twenty-
five, as at thirty-five, or forty-five. It seems not very probable,
therefore, that, were he to confine himself altogether to one
of these occupations, he would perform it better than he now
does. On the other hand, it seems very likely, that, did
the dependence of the several agricultural operations on the
seasons permit the separation of occupations in this art, the
implements employed in it would soon become much more
efficient. We see, in fact, that it is the impossibility of this
separation taking place, that does here retard or prevent im-
provement. Threshing-mills, for example, would be univer-
sally adopted were it not that, being nearly idle a great part
of the time, the cost of construction is too great for the
return. The machine is probably unemployed for nineteen
days out of twenty, so that could this division take place
in twenty adjoining farms, each of which has now its own
threshing-mill, nineteen of those at present necessary might
be dispensed with. The same thing may, I believe, be said
concerning drilling-machines ; it is their cost and the long
time they lie idle, that prevents their general adoption.
OF DIVISION OF LABOR
Similar causes altogether prevent the introduction of many
other ingenious machines and implements. As much in-
genuity, indeed, has been displayed in contrivances for the
purposes of this art, as for any other; but the instruments
produced, though they would have been very effective aids
in particular operations, have never come into use, because,
unless for a few days every year, they would have lain idle
on the hands of their owners. Were it possible for farmers
to divide their employment, and, each taking to a par-
ticular department, were the distinct occupations of ploughers,
reapers, harrowers, etc., to arise, none of the instruments
employed lying idle, they would yield much more speedy
returns; their construction, in all probability, would greatly
improve, and the whole capital of the country would soon
be very much increased. It is worth while observing, too, that
in this sort of labor, the improved construction of instru-
ments seems to lessen the quantum of manual dexterity
necessary. The manual dexterity necessary for managing a
threshing or a drilling-machine is very trifling.
It is chiefly in some very delicate arts, such as that of
watchmaking, or in some in which, from their nature, the use of
tools cannot be extensively introduced, as in printing, that the
efficiency derived from long practice is very great, and where,
consequently, the division of labor would seem in this way a
direct improvement. These, however, make but a small part
of the arts of any community.
2. Among the direct advantages derived from the division
of labor, Adam Smith reckons the invention of many machines
Bating and abridging labor. It seems to me, that the facts
are, on the whole, opposed to this idea. Whatever confines a
man's faculties to one monotonous occupation, must rather dull
and cramp, than quicken and expand them. " The under-
standings of the greater part of men, are necessarily formed by
, ordinary employments. The man, whose whole life is
spent in performing a few operations, of which the effects, too,
are perhaps always the same, or very nearly the same, has no
occasion to exert his understanding, or to exercise his inven-
in finding out expedients for removing difficulties which
T occur. He naturally loses, therefore, the habit of such
Q
242 OF DIVISION OF LABOR
exertion, and generally becomes as stupid and ignorant as it is
possible for a human creature to become. The torpor of his mind
renders him not only incapable of relishing or bearing a part in
any rational conversation, but of conceiving any generous,
noble, or tender sentiment, and consequently of forming any
just judgment concerning many even of the ordinary duties of
private life. Of the great and extensive interests of his
country he is altogether incapable of judging ; and unless very
particular pains have been taken to render him otherwise, he
is equally incapable of defending his country in war. The
uniformity of his stationary life naturally corrupts the courage
of his mind, and makes him regard with abhorrence, the
irregular, uncertain, and adventurous life of a soldier. It
corrupts even the activity of his body, and renders him in-
capable of exerting his strength with vigor and perseverance
in any other employment than that to which he has been bred.
His dexterity in his particular trade seems, in this manner, to
be acquired at the expense of his intellectual, social, and
martial virtues." 1
These being the direct effects on the intellectual and moral
powers of the division of labor, it can scarcely be said to be
the direct cause of invention in the artisan. The extended
division of labor [in modern industry, however,] implies
the existence of many arts, and of much intelligence [in some
of the members of the society]. Where it exists, therefore,
the inventive faculties will be generally active. But this
activity, thoiigh a concomitant of the division of labor, is to be
held as an effect, not of that division, but of other causes them-
selves producing the division of labor. It will appear, in
short, to be, like most popular principles, a result, not a cause ;
and ranks properly, not as a prime mover in the course of
human affairs, but as a consequence of the actions of the prime
movers.
[For a much more vigorous treatment of the leading subjects dealt with
in this Chapter the reader is referred to Lauderdale, to whom Rae is un-
doubtedly much indebted.]
Wealth of Nation*, Book V. c. I.
APPENDIX.
ARTICLE I.
OF THE NATURE AND EFFECTS OF LUXURY.
THE general tendency of all the circumstances, the nature and
causes of which it has been our aim hitherto to investigate, is
to advance the wealth of society, the capital and stock of com-
inunitifs. Were the operation of the principles of invention
and accumulation to go on unchecked, the amount of the stock
of all nations would be gradually and uninterruptedly increased;
thr one furnishing the means of providing additional supplies
for the wants of futurity, the other giving the motives to
make the provision. But there are opposite principles, the
tendency of which is either to retard the progress of the
general stock, or actually to diminish the amount already
^ting. To some of these we have now to attend.
As the prevalence of the benevolent and social affections,
anl th. xu-ength of the intellectual powers, are the great
springs from which the increase of the wealth and prosperity
'immunities arise, so it might be expected, as I believe
it will be found, that the diminution of that wealth i^
-lii'-fly occasioned by the spread of contrary principles, by
ascendency of the purely selfish, and debasement of
intellectual and moral parts of our nature.
'I' lie first of these principles, of which we have to consider
tli- operation, is vanity; by which term I understand the
in- re desire of superiority over others, without .my reference
.- to the merit of that superiority. A perfect being may be
rous of superiority in well-doing, not on account of sur-
passing others, but from pleasure in the good he does. A very
246 APPENDIX
evil being may derive satisfaction from a superiority in evil-
doing, simply from the pleasure which the certainty of having
been the cause of very great misery may give him. But there
seems to be a feeling that finds its proper gratification in
merely going beyond others, without reference to the path
taken. It would be gratified by excelling in vice, were it
not that the moral feeling restrained it ; it would be gratified
by excelling in virtue, were it not that immoral propensities
incapacitate it from attaining an eminent degree of it. It
is this which, for want of a better word, I distinguish by
the term vanity. It is a purely selfish feeling ; its pleasures
centre in the individual; and if it does not endeavor to
diminish the enjoyment of others, it is never directly its
object to increase them. When, in the course of its action,
pleasure is communicated to others, this arises from its
being then blended with other feelings.
Its aim, in all cases that concern our subject, is to have what
others cannot have. One of the most perfect instances of
it ever exhibited was when Cleopatra caused a very precious
pearl to be dissolved, that she might consume it at a draught.
There could be here no pleasure in the taste of the liquor, that
must have been rather disagreeable ; the gratification con-
sisted in having drank what no one else could afford to drink.
The son of the famous Eoman actor performed a similar feat. 1
We learn from Pliny 2 that it became a sort of fashion
at Rome as it seems to have been in the East. 3
But it is seldom that this feeling fixes itself upon objects
that gratify it alone, or objects solely desirable from the diffi-
culty of obtaining them, and from the consequent [factitious]
superiority which their possession implies. It rather prefers
such as have also qualities capable of gratifying other desires,
or ministering to other pleasures. The amount, however
of these other wants supplied by the objects it covets is often
1 Filius ^Esopi detractam ex aure Metellse
Scilicet ut decies solidum exsorberet, aceto
Diluit insignem baccam.
Hor. Mat. II. 3. The value, 1,00,000 sestertii, was equal to about 5,000
2 Plin. IX. 59.
3 Vis margaritarum aceto subactu. Quintus Curtius.
OF LUXURY 247
very small ; if this be large enough to distinguish them from
matters altogether useless, it seems very frequently sufficient
for its purpose. The extravagances of the table in which the
Romans indulged were of this sort. The enjoyment afforded
by the articles consumed must evidently have arisen, almost
altogether, from the high price they cost. A dish of nightin-
s brains could scarcely be a very delicious morsel, yet
Adam Smith quotes from Pliny the price paid for a single
nightingale as about 66. For a surmullet 80 were given.
According to Suetonius, no meal cost Vitellius less than 2000.
The enormous prices paid for various articles of dress and
furniture could have proceeded alone from the promptings
of similar desires. Thus Adam Smith reckons the cost of
s. .me cushions of a particular sort used to lean on at table,
at 30,000.
The things to which vanity seems most readily to apply
itself are those to which the use or consumption is most
apparent, and of which the effects are most difficult to
discriminate. Articles of which the consumption is not
picuous, are incapable of gratifying this passion. The
vanity of no person derives satisfaction from the sort of
timber used in the construction of the house he occupies,
because the wood work is usually concealed by paint or
soiiK-tliing else. Again: if the effects produced by it can
be ascertained with accuracy, the object seldom affords the
means of sufficiently marking superiority. Thus coal is con-
sumed for the heat given out by it, and the different quan-
titites of heat yielded by different qualities of coal are easily
ascertained. One scarcely, therefore, prides himself on burn-
ing one sort, in preference to another. It is not equally easy
to ascertain how much the marble of which his chimney
imposed exceeds, or comes short, in the beauty, the
variety, and arrangement, of its colors, the same sort of
il made use of, for similar purposes, by his neighbors,
fancy here, stimulated by vanity, may raise the one more
less over the other, and according, therefore, to the stn-n^th
this passion will the assumed superiority be greater or less.
: hings have qualities better fitted for the gratification of
passion than liquors. Their peculiar flavors and tastes
24s APPENDIX
a iv sufficient to distinguish them, and yet afford no room
to determine how much the one exceeds the other. The
imagination, also, seems to have a peculiar power over tlu>
organs of taste and smell, and to be able, through the instru-
mentality of habit, to bring them to receive pleasure from
what at first was indifferent, perhaps even disagreeable.
Hence it is impossible to set any bounds to the superiority
which one may acquire over another, from the influence of
this passion; and it may almost be laid down as a general
rule with regard to them, that any one that is at all drinkable,
becomes fit for being placed at the tables of the luxurious, by
being carried a sufficient distance from the place of its manu-
facture. Thus, during the peninsular war, London porter WMS
largely consumed in Spain by the very classes who, in England,
reckon it a mark of vulgarity to drink it at all.
It is not, indeed, to be disputed, that the rarity and costli-
ness of the liquors, and other similar commodities consumed
by an individual, may heighten greatly the absolute pleasure
he derives from them. This arises from a trait in the char-
acter of man, which we have every day opportunities of
observing. The attention is always aroused in a greater
degree by an object, when it excites more than one faculty.
Two flowers together, the one having the beauty without
the scent of the rose, and the other its scent without its
beauty, would not afford so much pleasure as that plant. We
prefer fruit that has a fine color ; it absolutely tastes better.
The taste is quickened by the additional stimulus which
the eye being caught by the beauty of the color gives
to the sensation, in the same way as a blow, long expected, is
felt more than one coming unawares. In a similar manner,
the mere costliness of wines, or meats, rouses the sense to
a keener perception of pleasure, by awakening the vanity ;
and, when the individual is conscious of being a connoisseur
in such matters, this very potent mover of our thoughts and
sentiments is, besides, excited by the decernment shown in the
discrimination, and by the familiarity thence implied with rare
wines and meats, and, consequently, with what is called the
best society. The slight, and, to another person perhaps,
scarcely perceptible relish which the contents of the glass,
OF LUXURY 249
or the dish, leaves on the palate, is seized and dwelt upon, and
being associated and wrought up with more exciting and in-
tellectual delights, is fixed in the mind of the sentimental
epicurean as something infinitely surpassing what he would
otlii'i-wise have conceived of it. Had pearls, when dissolved
in vinegar, produced a beverage that the imagination could
My have transformed into a delicacy, how would it
not have been extolled by the Romans !
The general consumption of any commodity by the vulgar
lessens, on the contrary, in many minds, the pleasure it
would otherwise give. It brings down the individual, in
this particular, to a level with the lowest. This feeling
gave rise to the exclamation by a once celebrated northern
Duchess, " What a pity that eggs were not a sixpence the
piece."
The Roman moralists and satirists ground many of their
invectives against the extravagance of the times, on the want
of connexion between the qualities of the articles and the
estimation in which they were held. 1 Heliogabalus confessed,
th.it it was the relish which the dearness of the dishes gave
to them, that led to the extravagance of his table, and liked
to have the price of his food overrated, because this sharpened
his appetite.
Were proofs wanting of how very slight grounds the taste
has for its judgment, in declaring this to be delicious, and that
beneath notice, we might find them in its variations in dif-
ferent times and places. It seems only constant in preferring
what is expensive. Yet, however different, each society in
perfect sincerity believes its system the best. Who could
ivlish now-a-days a Roman feast? Certainly, however, they
1 Laudas, insane, trilihrem
Mullum in singula quern minuas pulmenta necesse eat.
Ducit te species, video. Quo pertinet ergo
Proceros odisse lupos? quia silicet illis
Majorem natura modum dedit, his breve poudus.
Hor. Sat. L. II.. II
Interea gustus elementa per omnia quiurunt.
Nunquam animo pretiis obstantibus ; interius si
Attendas magis ilia juvant qu pluris emuntur.
Juvenal, XI. Sat.
250 APPENDIX
believed that in cookery, as in other arts, they had attained
the summit of real perfection. Of their good faith in this
belief they gave a singular instance. A very expensive and
much esteemed sauce was made by them out of the probably
half rotten entrails of certain fish. 1 So convinced, however,
were they of its superlative delicacy, that they had the care
to make a formal law specially prohibiting its being given or
sold to the barbarians. 2 They were seriously fearful lest,
should these rude warriors only taste it, it might so highly
gratify their appetite, as to bring them down at once upon
the empire. They came, notwithstanding, but neither they
nor their more polished descendants seem to have found
particular charms in the garum.
We find the estimation of every article, whether of dress, of
furniture, or of equipage, if to be seen by many, regulated
also, in a very great degree, by the gratification it affords this
passion. " With the greater part of rich people, the chief
enjoyment of riches consists in the parade of riches ; which,
in their eyes, is never so complete as when they appear to
possess those decisive marks of opulence which nobody can
possess but themselves. In their eyes, the merit of an object,
which is in any degree either useful or beautiful, is greatly
enhanced by its scarcity, or by the great labor which it
requires to collect any considerable quantity of it; a labor
which nobody can afford to pay but themselves. Such objects
they are willing to purchase at a higher price than things
more beautiful and useful, but more common." 3 Though its
influence now, perhaps, is not so great as it was among the
ancients, it is yet more apparent. The progress of art has
been such, that there is scarcely any material, or fabric, or
color, the production of which it does not so much facilitate
as to bring it within the reach of a large mass of consumers.
J Aliud etiamnum liquoris exquisiti genus, quod garum vocavere, intestinis
piscium cseterisque quse abjicienda essent sale maceratis, ut sit ilia putrescen-
tium sanies. Nee liquor ullus psene prseter unguenta majore in pretio esse
ccEpit. Plin. lib. 31. c. 8. Nat. His.
2 The edict was in the time of the Emperors Valens and Gratian. Gold
and wine were laid under a similar prohibition.
3 Wealth of Nations, B. I. c. XL
OF LUXURY 251
It then loses its value as a distinction, and ceases to serve
the purposes of vanity. Hence arises the necessity for the
variety, and seeming caprice, of fashion. What Adam Smith
applies to one class of articles, will apply, in a great measure,
to the whole expenditure of the opulent. " When by the
improvements in the productive powers of manufacturing art
and industry, the expense of any one dress comes to be very
moderate, the variety will naturally be very great. The rich,
not being able to distinguish themselves by the expense of any
one dress, will naturally endeavor to do so by the multitude
and variety of their dresses." 1
To attempt to enumerate the modes in which fashion varies
the fitness of things for the purposes of its votaries, were
little profitable, and is, I apprehend, superfluous. Its extended
influence will hardly be disputed. " What is the cause," de-
mands Mr. S torch, 2 " that gives so high a value to the rare
jewels with which opulence loves to deck itself ? Is it the
pleasure they give the eye, by the brilliancy of their reflected
liirlit ? No; that slight enjoyment has no relation to their
value ; it is because they attest the wealth of him who wears
them. Such are all the objects of this sort of luxury : the
amount of enjoyment they give through the direct medium of
the senses is nothing, in comparison of that which they yield
by the display that can be made of them to others even
objects which seem by their nature to have no other end but
to please the senses, are almost altogether estimated by the
gratification this display produces. Consider a sumptuous
repast given by opulence, separate from it, in thought, every
thing that serves only to show the riches of him who gives
it, and leave nothing absolutely on the table but what may
gratify the appetite of the individual : what would remain ?
In .short, if we take a general survey," continues the same
author, " of all that expenditure which is made after the
natural desires are satisfied, we will perceive that it is almost
altogether occasioned by the desire to appear rich." 8 This
ire of appearing superior to others thus k, , ps a vast
1 Idem. B. IV. c. IX.
a C'owr cTEconomie Pditique, liv. VII. c. V.
TraM d'Economie Politique, liv. VII. c. IV.
252 APPENDIX
number of things in a state of ceaseless revolution. All this
domain is under the rule of fashion.
Diruit, wdificat, inutat quadrata rotundis.
It destroys before its time, as Mr. Say complains, whatever
it lays its hands on. "Any thing which a person has pro-
vided himself with, to serve some useful purpose, is preserved
as long as possible, its consumption is gradual. An object of
luxury is of no use from the moment it ceases to gratify either
the senses, or the vanity, of its possessor. It is destroyed,
at least in greater part, before having ceased to exist, and
without having supplied any real want; luxury has in
abhorrence every profitable expense."
The expenditure occasioned by this desire falls on all classes
of society. To supply it takes a large portion of the revenue
of what are called the middle classes [that is, of those who are
recognized members of the middle classes], of those who have
difficulty to prove their claim to be so ranked, of those who
are comfortable in the lower classes, and even of those who
have difficulty in procuring absolute necessaries. " In all
classes," says Mr. Storch, " the desire of show (le luxe d'osten-
tation) has been able to identify itself with whatever serves
the comfort or the conveniences of life. It is this which
borders with a narrow lace the head dress of the country
girl, and gives to her whole attire colors and a shape foreign
to its utility." l
I should wish to apply, to the expenditure occasioned by
the passion of vanity, the term luxury. Though that word
has properly a wider signification, it is perhaps the one that
comes nearest to mark the thing we speak of.
It is somewhat difficult to define precisely how far the limits
of luxury, so understood, extend. It is a point which, pro-
bably, different people would fix differently. Whatever
amount of pleasure any thing gives, that is entirely distinct
from its rarity, or any association with that circumstance,
1 Liv. VII. c. V. [The dress of a girl has indirect as well as direct
utility. The above was written before the discovery of the principle of
sexual selection.]
OF LUXURY 253
certainly is not luxury. There is a pleasure in the sight of
certain shapes and colors, and arrangements of them, which is
quite independent of their cost ; there is a fitness, also, in the
texture of certain fabrics, to preserve from the extremes of
heat and cold, to add to the beauties of feature or form, and
to correct their defects, that, of itself, gives pleasure ; there
are pleasures, too, which the mind creates to itself, out of the
associations of these. We feel pleasure, in a cold day, in look-
ing at a person well wrapped up in warm furs, as in a hot day,
in seeing that one has no lack of clean linen. A nobleman of
a right mind experiences gratification from seeing the clean
sheets and warm blankets of the peasant, as well as when he
enters and looks round his own sedulously arranged chamber.
It is this feeling we experience when we say that such a house,
or dress, has an air of comfort about it. The term has pro-
perly reference to the sensual, and to the benevolent, not to
the selfish feelings. The sight of statues, paintings, flowers,
i- also capable of affording a high degree of gratification to
many minds. The degree of pleasure thus experienced is differ-
ent in different individuals, and it is scarcely possible to ascer-
tain what its exact amount is in any one ; hence the difficulty,
in most cases, of determining what is, or is not, luxury. Mr.
ch, in a chapter of his system from which I have already
I noted, observes: "All the ornaments which decorate the
apartments of the rich, that gilt work, those sculptures which
art and taste seem to have formed solely to delight the mind,
a iv nothing but a sort of magical characters, presenting every
where this inscription: Admire the extent of my riches."
r anity, there can be little doubt, is the predominating feeling
to the construction of such apartments ; it is not,
'ever, the only one. Well-executed statues, even elegant
have certainly something in themselves pleasing to
eye, and to the mind of the beholder, whether owner or
The larger part of the gratification derived is drawn
in most cases from vanity, and we occasionally meet
with a character whose pleasures are altogether those of
ostentation ; like Pope's prodigal,
Not for himself he sees, or hears, or eats,
-t must choose his pictures, music, meats ;
2H APPENDIX
He buys for Topham drawings and designs,
For Pembroke, statues, dirty gods, and coins ;
Rare monkish manuscripts for Hearne alone,
And books for Mead, and butterflies for Sloane.
But, in most cases, real enjoyment [of an aesthetic nature or
otherwise] mixes largely with mere vanity, in expenditure of
the [luxurious] sort.
Adam Smith remarks, that " It is not by the importation of
gold and silver that the discovery of America has enriched
Europe. By the abundance of the American mines those
metals have become cheaper. A service of plate can now be
purchased for about a third part of the corn, or a third part
of the labor, which it would have cost in the fifteenth century.
With the same annual expense of labor and commodities,
Europe can annually purchase about three times the quantity
of plate which it could have purchased at that time. But
when a commodity comes to be sold for a third part of what
had been its usual price, not only those who purchased it
before can purchase three times their former quantity, but it
is brought down to the level of a much greater number of
purchasers, perhaps to more than ten, perhaps to more than
twenty times the former number. So that there may be in
Europe, at present, not only more than three times, but more
than twenty or thirty times the quantity of plate which would
have been in it, even in its present state of improvement, had
the discovery of the American mines never been made. So far
Europe has, no doubt, gained a real conveniency, though surely
a very trifling one. The cheapness of gold and silver renders
those metals rather less fit for the purposes of money than
they were before. In order to make the same purchases, we
must load ourselves with a greater quantity of them, and
carry about a shilling in our pocket, where a groat would have
done before. It is difficult to say which is most trifling, this
inconveniency, or the opposite conveniency." l I suspect there
is also a little exaggeration here, as the words of the author in
another place would prove. " If you except iron, the precious
metals are more useful than any other. As they are less liable
to rust and impurity, they can more easily be kept clean; and
1 Wealth of Nations, B. IV. c. I.
OF LUXURY 255
the utensils, either of the table or the kitchen, are often, upon
that account, more agreeable when made of them. A silver
boiler is more cleanly than a lead, copper, or tin one ; and the
same quality would render a gold boiler still better than a
si her one" 1 But, even if we should admit that silver, as a
commodity possessing many useful qualities, is valuable on
other accounts than its scarcity, we must also grant that a
very large share of other departments of the expenditure of
tin- wealthy consists of mere luxuries, articles, the sole grati-
bioD afforded by which is, that they alone can afford to
possess them. It is then, I apprehend with some truth, that,
in another part of the Wealth of Nations, the author, in
tracing the causes which brought on the diminution of the
r of the great feudal lords, and ascribing them chiefly to
th i-ir expending their revenues on the produce of foreign
CMinmerce and manufacture, instead of maintaining a large
ivtinue, characterizes the bulk of the articles constituting this
expenditure as useless for any other purpose than the gratifi-
cation of a selfish vanity. " All for ourselves, and nothing for
< >tl i T people, seems, in every age of the world, to have been
tli- vile maxims of the masters of mankind. As soon, there-
as they could find a method of consuming the whole
value of their rents themselves, they had no disposition to
share them with any other persons. For a pair of diamond
1 'ii ckles, perhaps, or something as frivolous and useless, they
anged the maintenance, or what is the same thing, the
of the maintenance, of a thousand men for a year, and
with it the whole weight and authority which it could
tin-in. The buckles, however, were to be their own, and no
nth' i human creature was to have any share of them; whereas
in the more ancient method of expense, they must have
shared with at least a thousand people. With the judges that
to determine the preference, this difference was perfectly
ive; and thus, for the gratification of the most childish,
th. m. an. >t, and the most sordid of all vanitirx th< y gradu-
ally bartered their whole power and authority. Having sold
their l.iithri^ht, not like Esau, for a mess of pottavv in time
of hunger and necessity, but, in the wantonness of plenty, for
Wealth of Xatioii*, B. I. 8, \1
256 APPENDIX
trinkets and baubles, litter to be the playthings of children
than the serious pursuits of men, they became as insignificant
as any substantial burgher or tradesman in a city." l Even
here, too, there is some exaggeration ; the seat of a wealthy
modern nobleman exceeds the rude castle of his half bar-
barous ancestor, not only in the gratification it gives to the
personal vanity of its possessor, but also in the refined enjoy-
ments it affords its inmates. The exact proportion between
the mere luxuries and the absolute enjoyments, in this as
in other cases, is indeed impossible to ascertain. The former,
however, undoubtedly make a very large portion of the total
amount.
As we descend in the scale, from the persons and mansions
of those who have the fortune to possess hereditary wealth
and hereditary claims to good society, to those who have
themselves accumulated, or are employed in accumulating
riches, and raising themselves to distinction, from thence to
the lower grades of life, and, at last, to the mere drudges of
the community, we shall find every step we take marked by
a greater prominence in two circumstances. The amount
expended on what are neither the necessaries nor conveniences
of life becomes less, but that expenditure is more decidedly
mere luxury. Taste gives enjoyment even to the wildest
extravagance of those whose chief occupation has been to
devise means to enjoy life, and to make it agreeable to others ;
but he whose business has been, or is, to discover the best
means of gaining wealth, though he may yield less to the
desire of show, does so more thoroughly. He becomes a mere
imitator, and, like most imitators, is apt to retain all the
defects and to drop much of the graces of his copy.
Vanity is combated by the strength of the social and
benevolent affections and intellectual powers. The former
represent its excesses as hurtful, the latter as absurd. The
same principles, therefore, which give strength to the effective
desire of accumulation, diminish the sway of this passion.
Hence, in all societies, where the effective desire of accumula-
tion is high, and instruments consequently at orders of slow
i Wealth of Nations, B. III. c. IV.
OF LUXURY 257
return, or only kept at orders of quick return from the pro-
< of improvement, vanity and luxury will prevail but
little: 1 while, in societies where the effective desire of
accumulation is low, and instruments, not in consequence of
superabundance of materials or recent improvements, but
ie inability of the community to work up any but the best
Hals, are at orders of very quick return, such a state of
things, indicating a weakness in the social and benevolent
affections, and in the intellectual powers, is generally accom-
panied by great strength, and the general prevalence of vanity
and luxury.
Savages, in general, are remarkable for the influence which
vanity has over them, and for their propensity to give up any
pr<vNi'>n they may have made for the future, or to suffer
severe privations, to have the means of decking their persons
or habitations with something rare and costly, distinguishing
tin-in from others. Beads, bones, plumes of feathers, porcu-
pine quills, gay colors, and all the rarities of their native
abodes, are sought out, and wrought up by them with great
labor. They besides cut their flesh, or tatoo their skin. The
<] ration costs severe pain and requires some skill, and the
bearing the testimony of this outlay about with him is as real
a gratification to the vanity of the savage as a diamond ring
to that of an European. Their intercourse with civilized
nations turns their desires towards fineries of European
manufacture. Glass beads, trinkets of silver, or, if it be not
to be had, of tin, fine cloths, showy cottons and silks, then
ke up a large part of their expenditure. 2
1 [This seems to be a debatable position. See the note at the end of this
article.]
ive seen many of the Indians in Canada, when in high dress, clothed
uglish cloth, of which they are, I am told, excellent judges;
inly, however, in the way they wear it, the Indian blanket, one made
for tho purpose, with a broad blue border, makes a more convenient and
Incoming robe.
almost irresistible passion which these people have, for whatever they
ive esteemed precious by others, must have struck every one having had
ntercourse with them. Perhaps the following anecdote may be worth relat-
ing, as in some degree illustrative of it. I was once voyaging with a friend in a
small canoe, when we chanced to keep company for two or three days with
258 APPENDIX
All travellers speak of the vanity of the Chinese, and of
their propensity to show. Their glittering gilding, variegated
silks, and crispy cows' hair dyed red, with them the most
splendid of ornaments, catch the eye of every stranger, and
contrast strongly with the squalid poverty and misery that is
the constant portion of a considerable part of the population,
and occasionally invades the whole mass. One of the father
Jesuits, in speaking of the necessity of his brethren changing
their habits and style of living, observes, that, "besides other
reasons, they are obliged to conform to the general custom of
the country ; that even individuals of the common people,
when they go to visit any one, dress themselves in silk, anl
have themselves carried in a chair. This does not pass with
them for vanity, or affectation of grandeur, but for an evidence
that they esteem the persons whom they visit, and that they
themselves are above absolute want, and are not in a despic-
able condition. 1 This attention to a showy exterior seems to
have led Mr. Ellis to form too high an estimate of the general
opulence and comfort of the people, "I have been much
struck," he says, " in all Chinese towns and villages with the
number of persons apparently of the middling classes; from
this I am inclined to infer a wide diffusion of the substantial
comforts of life, and the consequent financial capacity of the
country." 2
The Romans are still more conspicuous instances of the
extravagance into which this passion betrays nations. Vanity
reigned throughout their expenditure. The decorations of
some Indians in another, one of whom a severe intermittent had reduced to a
mere skeleton. One forenoon when we stopped for a little, they requested us
to come close to them, and open a case we had, to let the sick man examine it.
Having done as they desired, the invalid seemed sadly disappointed, "I
thought," he said, " when I saw it at a distance yesterday, that the inside
was silver, and it seemed to me it would do me good to look at it, but it is only
tin." The expression of his countenance and voice showed that he fancied the
sight of so much silver, would have acted like a cordial, and so I dare say it
would. It is to be observed that it is not the custom of Indians to make
requests having an air of impertinence of strangers, or to express dis-
appointment.
1 Lettres Edifiantes, Vol. IX. p. 531.
2 Embassy to China, Phil, edition, 1818, p. 237.
OF LUXURY 259
their persons and mansions were a show of the most costly
luxuries.
" Gemmas, marmor, ebur, Tyrrhena sigilla, tabellas,
Argentum, vestes Gaetulo murice tinctaa."
The head, the neck, the arms, the fingers, of a Roman lady
were loaded with jewels. Pliny relates that the jewels which
Lollia Paulina, the wife of Caligula, even after her repudia-
tion, carried on her person when attired simply for paying
visits, were worth forty millions of sesterces, upwards of two
hundivd thousand pounds sterling. According to the same
author, women of the greatest simplicity and modesty durst
no more go without diamonds than a consul without the
marks of his dignity. The men, also, he tells us, wore on
their fingers a variety of the most expensive rings, rather
loading than adorning them. It was common to have tables
and other articles ,of ivory, or of the precious metals. The
plate and tables of Heliogabalus were of pure gold. Examples
<>f their excessive luxury in articles for the table have been
already given, and many more might be added, were it neces-
sary to ivjM-at what lias been often narrated. 1
The magnificence of the eastern Empire was perhaps even
greater than that of Rome itself. It reflected something of
tin excessive splendor of the Babylonish and other Asiatic
monarchies. Chrysostom thus describes the palaces of the
nobles. " The roofs made of wood were gilt. The doors, even
thf long folding doors, were of ivory. In all the chambers
tin- walls were incrusted with marble. If they were only of
tton stone, it was covered with plates of gold. The beams
aii-i ceilings were gilt, and the apartments were inlaid with
small stones, and often with precious stones. Over the floors
were sometimes spread very rich carpets. Their taste for
nificence could bear nothing of the ordinary kind. In
rooms were great pillars of marble, with their chapiters
and sometimes the whole pillars were gilt, statues by the
excellent artists, pictures and mosaic work. The beds
usually of ivory or of wood, gilt or covnv.l with silver
nd sometimes of solid silver decorat<-<| \\ ith ^oNl. All
reader may consult Gibbon, or the work of M. d'Arnay *r la vie
260 APPENDIX
the furniture was surprisingly rich. The chairs and benches
were of ivory ; the pots and other vessels, even for the
meanest uses, were of gold and silver." 1
Mr. Say has remarked, that there is a large part of the
consumption of the French, which is occasioned by their
ssive attention to mode and fashion, and that, in this
respect, they contrast disadvantageously with the English,
who pay more attention to comfort and convenience, and less
to the changing fancies by which vanity seeks to distinguish
itself. Instruments have never, in France, been wrought up
to orders of so slow return as in England.
O
I believe it will be found that the strength of the effective
desire of accumulation, is higher among the working classes
in North America than in Europe. The influence of vanity in
many cases, is certainly less. The consumption, for instance,
of coarse unbleached cotton, for shirting, is very great ; this is
certainly a more comfortable wear for a working man than
the finer sorts. It washes more easily, and endures more
fatigue. 2 The finer cottons, also, of American manufacture,
are of a stouter and more substantial fabric, indicating that
the American purchaser looks more to the wear of the article,
the European to the delicacy of the fabric. The same thing
may be said of woolens. A substantial farmer in England would
scarcely, as one of the same class in North America, think him-
self decently clad in a winter's suit of which the cloth cost only
a dollar per yard, though a comfortable and durable dress.
It is to be observed, that, as vanity is opposed by the social
and benevolent affections and intellectual powers, according as
the one or the other of these preponderates, the manifesta-
tions of that luxury which yet remains, are modified into
some resemblance to what it approves. When the intellectual
powers are strong, this passion endeavors to elude them by
attaching itself to objects that it can represent as of per-
manent excellence. When the benevolent affections are
1 Chrysostom, quoted by Jortin, Ecclesiastical History, Vol. II. p. 359.
2 Until about two years since almost all upper Canada and the eastern town-
ships of lower Canada, were supplied with American cottons of this sort
smuggled over. Patterns were sent to Manchester, and imitation American
cottons got out, which now supply the Canadian side of the line ; they do not,
however, as far as I have been able to learn, pass to the other.
OF LUXURY 261
powerful, it endeavors to gain its ends, by representing them
as proceeding from a wish to gratify others, and to share with
them things, which are at least generally esteemed rare and
val uable. In the former case it escapes opposition, and finds
vent in expensive buildings and decorations ; in the latter in
sumptuous entertainments, and luxuries of the table. " In
Holland," says Mandeville, " people are only sparing in such
things as are daily wanted and soon consumed; in what is
lasting they are quite otherwise ; in pictures and marble they
are profuse ; in their buildings and gardens they are extrava-
gant to folly. In other countries you may meet with stately
courts and palaces of great extent that belongs to princes
which nobody can expect in a commonwealth, where so much
equality is observed as there is in this; but in all Europe you
shall find no private buildings so sumptuously magnificent, as
a great many of the merchants' and other gentlemen's houses
an- in Amsterdam, and some other great cities of that
ince, and the generality of them that build there, lay out
a greater proportion of their estates on the house they dwell
in than any people upon the earth." 1 Something of the same
genius may, I think, be observed in the expenditure of the
North Americans. Their houses are frequently larger than
have use for, so that part of them remains unoccupied.
Th'-y are, also, often built with a greater regard to show than
i >rt. There is little substantial difference between a gold
and silver watch, but that the former costs double of the
i . Gold watches are perhaps more common in North
rica, than in any other part of the world. It is pure
vanity that leads to so general an adoption of this luxury, by
classes who in England would not think of it, but it is a
vanity that fixes itself on something permanent. In the end,
is no cheaper way in which man can write, " I am rich,
I am not absolutely poor," than to carry a gold
watch. It is ready to meet all occasions, and all persons. 2
1 Remark Q, Fable of the Beei.
3 These observations apply to the population of British descent or birth
Mi sides of the line. [Rae overlooks here that the possession of a gold
watch, or any sort of valuable jewelry, constitutes a hoard of wealth which
may be of great use in certain emergencies. It is like the gold chain of tin-
knight of the Middle Ages, of which he speaks elsewhere.]
262 APPENDIX
In Britain, on the other hand, the luxuries that mix them-
selves with the virtues of hospitality are more apt to prevail.
There rare wines, and refinements in the dainties of the table
are more common.
Besides the varied character with which the various
strength of the passion stamps different peoples, there is a
difference, in this respect, in the same people, between the
agricultural population and the inhabitants of cities, which
the following sagacious remarks of Montesquieu seem to me
sufficiently to explain. " The extent of luxury farther de-
pends on the size of towns, and especially of the capital. In
proportion to the populousness of towns, the inhabitants are
tilled with notions of vanity, and actuated by an ambition of
distinguishing themselves by trifles. If they are numerous,
and most of them strangers to one another, their vanity
redoubles, because there are greater hopes of success. As
luxury inspires these hopes, each man assumes the marks of a
superior condition. But, by endeavoring thus at distinction,
every one becomes equal and distinction ceases ; as all are
desirous of respect, nobody is regarded." l
In the country it is different ; every one is known, and no
one can succeed in passing himself off for other than he is.
In town Molly Seagrim would have been admired as a
fantastical fine lady ; in the country she got herself mobbed.
To account for the difference, which we every where see
between the dissipation of the town and the economy and
frugality of the country, we have only to consider, in addition
to this, that in the country there are always considerable
facilities and encouragements, for even the poorest to form
instruments, unless in very anomalous cases, such as that
which the abomination of the poor laws has introduced into
England. In the country the poor man can devote all his
spare time, which perhaps is his only disposable [savable]
fund, to the cultivation of some plot of ground, to repairing
his house, working in his garden, and procuring food for his
cow or his pig. He is induced and enabled to place out 2 all
1 Esprit des Lois, B. VII. c. II.
2 One who has happened to reside in any part of Scotland, where facilities
of this sort exist, must have had opportunities of observing very remarkable
OF LUXURY 263
his little savings, as they come in, on some profitable invest-
ment. Similar circumstances operate similar effects on the
man in middling circumstances, and even on the rich man.
It is the town, especially the metropolis, that is the ruin of
landed proprietors.
We may also, in a similar manner, explain the tendency of
new countries to engender industry and frugality. The very
-cattered state of the population effectually keeps down
vanity; the absolute necessity of working up the materials
within reach, rouses the accumulative principle to action, and
the abundance of these materials stimulates it to unremitting
exertion. There is hence no better school for the dissolute
European than the back woods. After a dozen years' resi-
dence in them, or in the clearings to which he has helped to
convert them, he comes out a completely altered man.
It is perhaps proper to observe here, that no blame can
attach to individuals, for compliances [within reasonable
bounds] with the follies to which the passion of vanity
prompts. It were a great mistake to imagine that even its
absurdities are easily avoidable. It is in vain for any one
man to oppose general opinions and practices, however
ridiculous. If he does so, he is sure to encounter greater
-vils than a compliance with the customs of the society would
inflict. It is the business of the poor man to stand well with
the world, else he would scarcely make his way through it.
his business, too, to avoid a display of poverty. One is
to have most friends when they least need them. " Pour
s'e'tablir dans le monde," says Rochefoucauld, " on fait tout ce
qu'on pent pour y paroitre e'tabli."
instances of the indefatigable industry they excite. Tracts of land, so very
barren and impracticable as to seem condemned to perpetual sterility, may
be teen in process of being converted into fertile soil, by being let out in small
patches at very long or perpetual leases. A portion of the estate of Pilfoddles,
near Aberdeen, almost a continuity of rock, was, I recollect, so reclaiming
fifteen years ago. Those small feus, as they are termed, are taken by
laborers, who work on them at spare hours when their other occupations fail
is sort of procedure is the original and elemental method of "aceumula-
r>r growth of capital. " Saving" proper, or the putting by of funds in
money to be either fx|> n.l--.t in hiring labor or in Imying titles to
property ("investing" proper), is an historical category.]
264 APPENDIX
" Notwithstanding my poverty," writes a Jesuit missionary
from China, " I have yet been able to relieve the extreme
misery of two poor Christians. The one had his house, his
furniture, and his implements of trade, destroyed by tire.
The other was by profession a physician, and some thieves
had in the night carried off his silk dresses ; they might as
well have stolen his profession and his reputation ; for here a
physician, unless dressed in silk and cow's hair, passes for
ignorant, and is employed by no one." The doctor who had
lost his silken robes was probably worse oft* than the mechanic ;
the former was still in a condition to find work, the latter wu*
not. He probably, indeed, had nankin left; but had he
dressed in it, especially had he pretended to say it was the
more comfortable wear, he would have acted about as wisely
as would a poor young M.D. in England who should, in cold
winter days, attire himself in dreadnought. Who would trust
a case to so absurd a mortal ?
The man of independent fortune, again, though he need fear
no very serious evils from setting himself in direct opposition
to received modes of extravagance, will yet certainly incur
the charge of eccentricity, perhaps of niggardly parsimony.
These are small inconveniences, but he consults his ease in
avoiding them.
A person is then only properly guilty of inflicting an injury
on the community, when he runs into both acknowledged
extravagances and real luxuries. He is censured by some, but
envied and followed by others. An individual may, on the
other hand, somewhat advance the prosperity of the whole
society, or at least of the order in it in which he is himself
ranked, by checking his vanity when it urges him to adopt
luxuries, permitted to his fortune, though not demanded by it.
The nobleman who, in equipage and lackeys, keeps somewhat
within the limits which his revenues would afford ; the trades-
man's wife, who dresses in calico instead of silk, are both, to a
small extent, public benefactors. Luxury, indeed, generally
advances or recedes slowly, and can scarce be successfully
encouraged or opposed but by degrees. There is always, and
in every society, one line, to go beyond which is acknowledged
extravagance, and another, not to come up to which is ac-
OF LUXURY 265
counted sordid parsimony. ( 'ras>u> was ashamed to use some
of his plate, the cost, even to him, appeared too great. 1 It is
invidious to run to expenses which others cannot follow, and
quests would have felt themselves too much outshone. He
would have been more severely censured, had he ventured to
entertain them in the simple style of their ancestors.
It were very difficult to discover a society where vanity
does not more or less direct the necessary expenditure. Could
this be done, we should there find things estimated solely by
their physical qualities, and as these differ greatly, there would
be great differences in the estimate made of each. Whatever
could really set forth to advantage the beauty or grace of
form or feature, would be proportionally prized, as would real
beauty in articles of furniture, and in the form and decorations
of apartments. But under this supposition, other circum-
stances being equal, that would always be preferred which
was cheapest. If two articles, therefore, were presented, of
which the one was of much greater real beauty than the other,
but also much more expensive, though it might be that the
former would be preferred, its high cost would be esteemed a
defect, and would proportionally diminish the pleasure yielded
by it. Very expensive articles would, if possible, be avoided.
A very costly dress, for instance, would affect the mind of
sue! i spectators disagreeably, as auguring either a want of
taste, or a want of beauty in the wearer, requiring much
adventitious aid to help out the deficiency. It would produce
a <lisagreeable feeling, somewhat similar to that caused by the
vi-w of a profuse expenditure of animal power, bringing about
only a small effect, and impressing, therefore, with an idea of
defective mechanism. In such a society the notions of most
people, and therefore the general rules of conduct, would in
tliis n-spect be completely different from what they generally
are.
metimes, though rarely, this passion instead of leading to
dissipation [of industrial energy], has an effect similar to an
providence, and causes the formation of instruments
vero Crasaus orator duos scyphos Mentoris artiticis maim Cttlatoa
estertiia C. (Jon f ess Us tamen est, nunquatn se his uti propter vereoumliam
ausum. 1'lin. fl \\.\III. ,. II.
4 J66 APPENDIX
of slowly returning orders. This is chietiy remarkable in
buildings intended to be permanent. If the materials and
workmanship of these are not substantial, and such as insure
durability to the edifice, the defect is commonly perceptible,
and is ridiculed as proceeding from poverty, or from dread of
expense. The vanity of the rich man, therefore, here excites
him to work for succeeding generations, that he may give the
present a high idea of the extent of his resources. He besides,
in this way, hopes to make it apparent to his contemporaries,
that a monument of his prosperity and magnificence will
descend to future times. The same observation will apply to
public works undertaken by a proud and extravagant govern-
ment. Vanity is always an operator in their formation, and
therefore their construction is never altogether regulated by
the [prevailing or standard] strength of the accumulative
principle, nor are they instruments of the orders which it
would indicate. " The proud minister of an ostentatious court
may frequently take pleasure in executing a work of splendor
and magnificence, such as a great highway, which is frequently
seen by the principal nobility, whose applause not only flatters
his vanity, but even contributes to support his interest at
court. But to execute a great number of little works, in
which nothing that can be done can make any great appear-
ance, or excite the smallest degree of admiration in any
traveller, and which, in short, have nothing to recommend
them but their extreme utility, is a business which appears in
every respect too mean and paltry to merit the attention of so
great a magistrate. Under such an administration, therefore,
such works are almost always entirely neglected." l It is, how-
ever, to be observed, that in regulating public works, and other
public affairs, men ought to pay more attention to the concerns
of a distant futurity than in the management of their private
affairs. A century is a small part of the existence of a nation,
1 Wealth of Nations, B. V. c. I. [The above statement in respect to "little
works " has little applicability under present clay conditions of government in
Western Europe and America. One of the leading drains everywhere on
public resources is the great multitude of petty undertakings extravagantly
carried out. The appropriations for really great public works, for buildings
which should indeed have "splendor and magnificence," are frequently unduly
cut down because the revenue of the state has been thus frittered away.]
OF LUXURY 267
though it includes that of several generations of individuals.
In statesmen, therefore, in the affairs of states, the accumula-
tive principle should be strong. Great durability, consequently,
in public works, is always desirable. In like manner govern-
ments should borrow on different principles from individuals.
N < one, for instance, now disputes that it should have been the
policy of Great Britain to have borrowed as much on long
annuities as possible. The misfortune is, that statesmen
rally think of themselves more than of their country,
and instead of grappling with present evils, let them grow,
content if they grow quietly and imperceptibly, and do not
threaten to deprive them of the gratification of maintaining
the pride of their power for a few years' political triumph.
P I'h is consideration may in part explain the cause of the great
durability of public works in China. It shows that the
paternal character of the government is in some measure a
reality. I suspect, however, that the contrast between the
construction of public and private works there, is more
apparent from the diminishing strength of the accumulative
principle in that great Empire. I shall presently have occasion
to adduce some reasons for this conjecture.
It is perhaps here worthy of remark, as serving to show
that ostentation and extravagance have very little connexion
with any other species of enjoyment, but that which places its
gratifications in some superiority over others, that in propor-
tion as nations are addicted to vanity and luxury, their range
of bodily enjoyments seems to become less. Cleanliness, for
instance, may be said to be a refined sensuality ; it is a real
enjoyment, on which the self-mortified ascetic wastes not his
and we find that least attention is paid to it by the vain,
most by the provident, so that other things being equal.
rhere the effective desire of accumulation is high, there it
i npulously observed; where it is lo\\ . it is little
lad
The North American Indians seem really not to have any
notion of its existence. It appears to tin-in, in other people,
as an affected an-1 unaccountable scrupulosity. 1 The Chi
described as disgustingly filthy. Tin- Kmnans \\
J See "Note J " in tin- AJ.J.. ,,
APPENDIX
tainly, as may be gathered from various passages in the
Latin writers, far from being what we would esteem cleanly.
An English gentleman would not think of writing to his
friend that if he dined with him he should find well-washed
dishes.
Ne non et cantharus et laux
Osteiulat tibi te j 1
Horace introduces a fanciful epicure, complaining of unwashed
goblets, want of table napkins and sawdust, as taking away
from the pleasures of a sumptuous feast. 2 In modern times
Holland has been esteemed the country of cleanliness ; Eng-
land perhaps ranks next.
Improvement can never facilitate the production of mere
luxuries. It cannot do so because it is not the thing itself,
but merely the quantity of labor embodied in it that vanity
prizes. Diminish the labor necessary for its production, and
you take away what this passion covets. It will, therefore,
[thereafter] either consume a proportionally larger quantity
of the commodity, or will turn itself for its gratification to
other commodities of greater rarity, which a greater amount
of labor, or some equivalent to it, is necessary to purchase.
Pearls, as ornaments, probably derive nearly their whole
value from their scarcity. Reduce their price to one half, and
the quantity worn to produce the same effect would require to
be doubled. Render them obtainable for a trifle, and they
could be no longer worn. It has been more than once
attempted to cultivate them, that is to make the oyster that
produces them, bear them universally and plentifully. Lin-
neaus conceived it practicable by pricking the animal, and
other managements, but the scheme has never succeeded.
Had it done so fully, it had certainly been useless. Suppose
it had diminished the labor necessary to procure them by one
half, then a lady to be as richly dressed as before, would just
have had to carry double the number. Had the facility been
farther increased, so that they became as plentiful as glass
1 Hor. Epist. Lib. I. V.
*Sat. IV. L. II. The Romans, it is true, bathed frequently, but then they
had neither soap nor linen, and woollens were high priced.
OF LUXURY 269
beads, they would then have become as useless. If every
peasant girl could afford to have a string of them, no lady
would wear them, and when ladies ceased to wear them,
peasant girls would lay them aside. 1 It is the same with all
other articles that are mere luxuries. As they only serve for
marks of the riches of the individuals possessing them, every
<liminution made in the labor embodied in them diminishes, in
a proportionate degree, their fitness for the purpose for which
they are employed. Should topazes become as plentiful as
cairngorms they would be no more esteemed.
There are few commodities, however, in which utility, as well
unity, has not a considerable share. On such the effects
of improvements are twofold. As far as they possess inherent
utility, it tends to carry them first, and subsequently all other
uments in the society, towards the more quickly return-
ing orders. In so far again as they are mere luxuries, it
renders a greater quantity of them necessary, or unfits them
altogether for the supply of the demands of vanity. There is
hence a sort of strife between the two principles, the one
seeking to disparage and discard such commodities, the other
to retain them. The result seems mainly determined by the
proportion of the one, or the other sort of qualities, existing
in the article in question, and by the degree in which its con-
sumption is apparent. It may have so many useful and
agreeable qualities, that however easily obtained, or however
openly consumed, it cannot be driven out of use. All that
vanity can do with regard to such articles, is, to consume
tin-in when they are most scarce. Some of the Romans never
ate fish but when at a distance from the sea, nor flesh but
when on the sea- shore. Green peas become luxuries at
Christmas. Should the best flannel cost only two pence a
yard, if would still be worn by all who now wear it, and by
many who <lo not. Its consumption is not conspicuous. On
the contrary, were any particular fine fabric of cotton
at ]>n-s<-nt uv.-.l t'nr i;n\vns. and costing two ^hillings ]HT
1 " The price of pearls in modern tinu< h;is v.ry much <livlim-.l ; puitly, no
<loul>t, from change of manners and fashions ; but more probably, from the
admirable imitation of pearls that may be obtained at a very low price."
loch's Dictionary of Commerce. They are also less worn.
270 APPENDIX
yard, in consequence of improvement to be sold for two
pence per yard, it could no longer be worn. It would no
longer be dress for any rank, and its consumption would
therefore diminish or cease. About ten years ago, what are
called leghorn bonnets were fashionable and much worn in
Canada and the United States. They then cost three or four
pounds. They may be had now for a few shillings, and
no one wears them ; straw which were then disused but by
the less wealthy, are now preferred ; they are dearer and less
durable.
People who regard appearances, and are accustomed to see
and be seen, can scarce expect that any improvement will
materially diminish their yearly outlay for dress, for them-
selves or families. Whatever proportion of their revenues
they may have found it necessary so to expend, in order to
maintain the appearance their rank required, they may fairly
reckon they will have to expend in future. The gentleman,
the tradesman, the lady, the servant girl, must alike obey the
laws which the strength of this principle imposes on the
society. Whatever advance improvement may make, they
must still lay their account with being looked down on by
their respective associates, or having to wear garments just as
expensive as ever, without being better looking, or more com-
fortable, in a degree answering by any means to the facilities
of fabrication effected by the successful efforts of invention.
In so far as their dress is a mark of their riches, a sort of in-
scription they bear about with them, as Mr. Storch expresses
it, serving to impress others with a belief of their possessing
a certain amount of wealth, or holding such a rank in society,
it is exactly analogous to coin. Double the faculty of pro-
duction, the quantity carried about, to answer the same
purpose, must be doubled, or recourse must be had to some
other material. Purple or scarlet, served among the Romans
for a mark of this sort ; only the rich could afford to wear it.
Although still admired as a color, it no longer serves the pur-
pose, and is comparatively little used. Lace, among the
moderns, was once a mark of the same kind. Invention has
so far facilitated the production of some sorts of it, that the
wearing them no longer confers distinction. Increase that
OF LUXURY 271
facility, till a yard of the finest sorts may be had for a few
half pence, and it is questionable if the beauty of the fabric
would preserve it as an article of dress wearable by any one. 1
To articles of furniture, of diet, to the equipage of the rich,
and to the whole apparent expenditure of every class, similar
rvations will apply. A greater or less part of the effects
of improvement, is absorbed by vanity in them all, and conse-
quently lost.
In as far again as any article is not a luxury, in as far as
it is beyond the reach of vanity, and consumed to supply
some real want, not to display superiority, in so far improve-
ment is really felt. Were invention to discover some sub-
stance having all the properties, and the exact appearance
1 " At Honiton, in Devon, the manufacture had arrived at that perfection,
was so tasteful in the design, and so delicate and beautiful in the workman-
ship, as not to be excelled by the best specimens of Brussels lace. During
ae war, veils of this lace were sold in London from twenty to one
hundred guineas ; they are now sold from eight to fifteen guineas. The effects
of the competition of machinery, however, were about this time felt ; and in
1815, the broad laces began to be superseded by the new manufacture. Steam
power was first introduced by Mr. John Lindsey, in 1815-16; but did not
come into active operation till 1820. It became general in 1822-23 ; and a
great stimulus was at this period given to the trade, owing to the expiration
of Mr. Heathcoat's patent, the increased application of power, and the perfec-
tion to which the different hand frames had by this time been brought. A
temporary prosperity shone on the trade ; and numerous individuals clergy-
men, lawyers, doctors, and others readily embarked capital in so tempting
a speculation. Prices fell in proportion as production increased, but the
i<l was immense ; and the Nottingham lace frame became the organ of
general supply, rivaling and supplanting, in plain nets, the most finished pro-
ductions of France and the Netherlands. Lace, having become a common
ornament, easily accessible to all classes, has lost its attractions in the fashion-
able circles, by which it was fonnerly patronized, so that very rich lace is no
longer in demand. Ajid many articles of dress, which in our drawing rooms
and ball rooms, lately consisted of the most costly and tasteful patterns in
lace, are now either superseded or made of different manufacture. Many of
s in Nottingham are at present unemployed ; and even for the
most splendid and beautiful specimens of embroidery, some of which have
occupied six weeks, working six days a week and fourteen hours a day, the
young women have not earned more than one shilling a day. The condition of
plain lace workers is still more deplorable they cannot obtain more, on
average, than two shillings and six pence a week, and working twelve or
hours per day, for their anxious and unremitting labor." McCulloch's
of Commerce.
J72 APPENDIX
of good leather, and capable of being formed for one sixth of
the outlay, it would be an effort of that power very sensibly
felt. Boots would probably indeed cease to be worn by the
higher classes, unless when on horseback, but good shoes
cannot be dispensed with by any class. They are worn for
comfort, not for show, and the diminution in the outlay neces-
sary to procure them, would constitute a real improvement.
Improvements in mining and modes of transporting coals,
diminishing the labor necessary to bring them to market, are
also sensibly felt, they facilitate the supply of real wants
and move instruments towards the more quickly returning
orders. Improvements in the manufacture of iron, also escape
vanity and are real. Could ingenuity discover a method of
quarrying stones and reducing them to shape, or of making
bricks at one half of the present outlay, it would be a real
improvement : only a small part of it would be lost in vanity;
for, unless in the highest classes, a dwelling-house is much
more for comfort than for show. Could the substance of
potatoes be converted into an article exactly similar to
wheaten flour, and requiring only half the outlay, that would
also be a very great improvement. Improvements, too, in the
fabrication of articles of glass, and earthen ware, are in a
great degree real. Could the manufacture of plate glass be
so facilitated, that it might be had for only double the price
of common window glass, the substitution of the one for the
other could not be called a luxury, but a real improvement,
an increased provision for the supply of future wants. In
Great Britain ingenuity has succeeded, in recent years, in very
greatly facilitating the manufacture of cotton fabrics. The
increased facility of production has in part effected a real
improvement, but certainly has in a great measure also been
absorbed by vanity. Much less labor is now necessary to
produce articles of dress of this material which are not seen,
or are but little seen; but for dresses worn in public, the
expenditure is certainly not diminished, or the beaiity or
comfort of the article increased, in proportion to the increased
facility of production. The finer sorts of these stuffs are
perhaps produced with ten times the facility they were
twenty years ago, yet probably the whole annual expenditure
OF LUXURY 273
which a young female makes for such part of her apparel as
is formed of these stuffs, is little less than what her mother,
twenty years ago, was accustomed to make, and certainly she
is not ten times more becomingly or more comfortably clad.
The great cheapness indeed of even the finest and most
delicate of these fabrics, is such that vanity seems to be
discarding them. The utmost efforts of ingenuity can
'ely embody a sufficiency of labor in them, or vary
them so as to make them a fit full dress for even a trades-
man's wife.
All luxuries occasion a loss to the society, in proportion to
their amount. The industry employed in their formation,
generates no provision for future wants, and may be said to
be expended in vain. Taking the whole society as a body, it
supplies no wants. It gives no absolute enjoyment, it is all
relative ; as much as one is raised by it, another is depressed,
the superiority of one man being here equivalent to the inferi-
ority of another. To increase the facilities of production of
luxuries, therefore, brings no addition to the absolute capital.
It is precisely analogous to increasing the facilities for the
production of the metals used for coin, merely adding to the
bulk circulated, and not enabling it in any degree to perform
it- office better. The expense, too, occasioned by keeping up
the circulation of the one and the other, and consequent dimi-
nution of the national revenue, is equally a loss. It is much
greater, however, in the case of luxuries than of coinage,
because the whole amount of the former, in all societies, is
probably much greater than that of the latter ; and because
it consists, in general, of materials far more easily destroyed.
To the loss thus occasioned by vanity the term [economic]
dissipation may be applied. Its amount cannot, for reasons
ly stated, be easily ascertained, nor is it necessary for
our purpose that it should. It is sufficient to observe, that,
in all societies which have hitherto existed, it has been con-
si- l.-rable ; and that it seems to be determined, in every society,
by the strength of the selfish, and weakness of the intellec-
and benevolent affections; and, consequently,
that it is inversely as the strength of the accumulative
principle.
274 APPENDIX
Though vanity, in this way, operates directly to retard the
increase of the stock of the society, some of its indirect effects
have, notwithstanding, an opposite tendency. As an antago-
nist to the restraining influence of the spirit of imitation, it
is often a very useful auxiliary in the spread of inventions.
These, without its aid, might perhaps have been shut up in
the countries where they were discovered; certainly they
would not have passed from region to region, so rapidly as
they have sometimes succeeded in doing. Under the guise of
foreign rarities, and consequently luxuries, they have made
their way easily ; and the mask rubbing off in time, a
substratum of utility has been found under it. 1
Soap seems to have been first made in the midst of the
ashes and tallow of Germany and Gaul. It came to Rome as
a luxury, in the shape of a pigment for the hair. In the
course of time, its superior detergent qualities becoming
apparent, and the manufacture being introduced, this article
so essential to the comfort of the modern European, pasM-d
entirely out of the rank of luxuries. Vanity also brought
silk to Europe. At first it was almost entirely a luxury.
As a garment it often has more beauty than [material of]
any other texture ; but when it exchanged for its weight in
gold, its beauty must have constituted but a small part of
the enjoyment derived from the wearing of it. In some
fabrics it is now scarcely a luxury ; its qualities of durability
and beauty seem to give it a real superiority, sufficient to
render the superior price paid for it no dissipation. Increase
that facility very much, and some of these fabrics would be
[altogether] discarded by vanity, [but retained by true
economy]. Were velvet to become as cheap as cloth, it would
not be worn by the higher classes; its greater durability
would make it too economical for them, and its adoption
by the lower would render it vulgar. Fabrics of cotton were
at first luxuries. They would not, perhaps, have been worn
[at all in Europe] had they not had rarity, and consequently
vanity, to recommend them. Cashmere shawls are so now ;
in time they too may cease to be so. The process, indeed,
has made some progress in France, where, I have been told r
1 [Compare Article VIII., p. 415.]
OF LUXURY 275
the breed of the animal yielding the wool has been introduced,
and the manufacture considerably advanced.
Vanity, also, [besides aiding in the spread of established
arts] sometimes facilitates [the creation of wholly new forms
of] real improvement, by the high estimate it gives to articles
that are mere luxuries, but which contain the rudiments of
extensive utility. It thus stimulates invention to facilitate
their production, develop their utility, and put them out of
the class of luxuries.
Glass was at first a pure luxury. It was prized by the
Romans for show, as glass beads are now by savages. Ingenuity
at length perfected the various processes of the manufacture,
and made it an article extensively supplying real wants.
The diamond is at present chiefly a luxury ; should art ever
succeed in giving at will a crystalline structure to simple
carbon, so as to convert it into that substance, it would
pass from the rank of luxuries, and would, too, contribute
largely to the supply of real wants. The high estimation in
which it is held serves at present to turn the attention of
ingenuity strongly to such a project.
These, however, are indirect, and, as it were, accidental
effects of luxury; its direct operation is always to dissipate
a part of the national funds proportioned to its strength.
The different effects arising from the action of the inventive
faculty, as it operates on utilities or luxuries, afford a means
of distinguishing the one from the other. The progress of in-
vention extends the consumption of utilities ; it diminishes the
consumption of pure luxuries. Were steel, platina, or plate
glass, produced by one tenth of the labor they presently cost,
their consumption would be very much increased. Were
pearls, or lace, to be got for one tenth of the labor that must
now be given for them, they would go completely out of
fashion. The additional amount of utilities produced, occupy-
ing the place of instruments that cost more labor, and did not
r turn more abundantly, their consumption implies a diminu-
tion in the cost of the whole stock of the society as compared
with the returns made by it, and consequently the progress
liat stock to an order of quicker return. The facility
given to the production of luxuries has rather a contrary
276 APPENDIX
effect, exciting to the greatest outlay of labor of which the
accumulative principle is capable, previous to the abandoning
of the manufacture.
[In the last few pages of the foregoing Article, Rae takes some account of
the indirect and contingent effects of luxury (as elsewhere of wars, persecu-
tions, and the like), but he does not carry this line of speculation far enough.
His handling of the subject as a whole is, consequently, much inferior to that
of Hume and some others. It may be said, I think, to lack generosity ; and
hence its error. Such a sweeping indictment cannot issue against the whole
human race.
Rae's teaching here, on its purely economic side, needs to be supplemented
by the following from Bagehot's Economic Studies, London edition, 1880,
p. 172.
' ' But we must observe what is incessantly forgotten, that it is not a
Spartan and ascetic state of society which most generates saving. . . . With-
out the multifarious accumulation of wants which are called luxury, there
would in such a state of society be far less saving than there is. If you look
at the West-end of London with its myriad comforts and splendors, it looks at
first sight like a mere apparatus for present enjoyment. And so far as the
present feelings of those who live there go, it often is. Very many of the
inhabitants are thinking only of themselves. But there is no greater benefit
to the community for all that than this seemingly thoughtless enjoyment. It
is the bait by which the fish is caught ; it is the attraction by which capital
is caught. To lead a bright life like that, at least that his children may lead
it or something like it, many times as many as those who now live it, spare
and save."]
ARTICLE II.
OF EXCHANGE BETWEEN DIFFERENT COMMUNITIES
OF COMMODITIES WHICH MINISTER TO LUXURY.
WHEN luxuries, the produce of foreign art, present them-
selves to a society, where they had before been strangers,
their [true] value cannot be [readily] ascertained by compar-
ing them with commodities of domestic formation, for it is
not indeed the really useful qualities of commodities [which
are readily comparable], that fit them more or less perfectly
to gratify the passion of vanity, but solely the difficulty of
procuring them. Were a quantity for example of the article
used for hemp in New Zealand, shown to a person in England,
who had never before seen it, and was totally ignorant of its
price, on being made accurately acquainted with its strength,
durability, weight, absorbing qualities, and pliancy, as com-
pared with real hemp, he would be able, knowing the value of
the latter, to state pretty nearly what it actually sold for.
But were a person, in the same country, perfectly ignorant of
the value of pearls, and never having seen any, to be shown a
ring of them, and made acquainted with their qualities in
la lion to artificial pearls, and glass beads of various sorts,
lough knowing well the price of the latter, he would
unly be unable to assign the sum to be got for the former.
Were a variety of alcoholic liquors to be presented to an
individual quite ignorant of them, and of their value, and
were he, changing from one to another, to partake, occasion-
ally, freely of them all for months and years together, all other
circumstances concerning them but their sensible qualities
278 APPENDIX
and effects being concealed from him, he would certainly
be unable to fix their relative value. Were, in like manner,
specimens of all the different fabrics used for female attire for
the last ten years, with their relative durabilities ticketed on
them, presented to a person of good taste, but perfectly
ignorant of these matters, he would certainly also be quite
incapable of coming near their actual relative cost [to pur-
chasers in the market.] The same observation will apply to
all other luxuries. As they compare with each other, not by
their inherent qualities, but by the difficulty in procuring
them, unless the comparative labor necessary to procure them
be known, there is no means of fixing their relative price. It
affords a rule, too, by which we may test what are, or are not,
luxuries. Thus, I apprehend, that were a silver spoon, or
sauce-pan, or vase, shown for the first time, to any person in
the middle ranks of life, though ignorant of its value [selling
price], yet seeing its beauty and susceptibility of receiving the
most delicate impressions of the workman, and being informed
of its durability, safety, and the saving of labor attending its
use, on a fair estimate of these qualities, he would place
it not very far below its present relative value to copper.
He might, it seems to me, considering merely the qualities
inherent in it, be willing to give for it twenty or thirty
times what he would for the same article wrought in
copper. He would, however, I should apprehend, be far from
estimating similar articles fabricated of gold, at sixteen times
the price of the same in silver. Supposing him possessed of
real taste and accurate judgment, the difference between his
estimate, and the actual comparative value [market valuation]
of these metals, would mark how far they were, or were not,
luxuries to people of his fortune.
The only rule, then, which people desirous of possessing
luxuries can adopt for measuring what they will give for
them, is the degree of difficulty of procuring them, the amount
of labor which must be given for them. When they are
satisfied that any particular article of the sort they are in
quest of is used by other people, and that it cannot be had for
less, they will pay the price demanded. They do not seek for
the grounds of their determination in the utility of the com-
OF FOREIGN TRADE IN LUXURIES 279
modity, but in its scarcity. Let a farmer go to lay out three
pounds on lace for his wife, if he is assured that the dealer in
that article to whom he applies will not charge him more than
others, and that Mr. A's wife and Mr. B's wife wear the same
sort, he will care little whether he gets for his money six or
twelve yards, or whether it be two or three inches broad. All
that he is concerned about is that he should get as much as
other people. Let the same farmer think of purchasing some
new manure for his land, he will conceive it necessary to
ascertain both the effects of the article upon the soil he farms,
in comparison with other manures, and its cost also com-
pared with them. If he find that, compared with them,
the cost is no greater, he will be inclined to purchase ; if he
th id it less, he will conceive it so much gain; while it
lasts it will be equivalent to a marie pit discovered on his
"wn farm.
If a dealer imports a commodity having a shade of distinc-
tion scarcely perceptible considered in relation to the degree
of enjoyment it gives, but sufficiently marked to distinguish it
from other commodities of the sort, and if half a dozen people
of rank adopt the use of the article as a sign of their superi-
ority, it has all chances to enter into the consumption of every
individual in the community who can afford it. In such
9, the price of the commodity depends [at first] altogether
on the venders of it. But, as each of these wishes to sell
as much as possible, and as he can do so most readily by
underselling his neighbors, the price gradually falls under a
free competition, until the dealers in it receive only the profits
that the effective desire of accumulation, and the progress of
improvement in the society measures out to them. At the
end of the process the whole difference observable, if the
article be completely a luxury, is a change of fashion. The
principle of accumulation has not been led to grasp a greater
compass of materials, nor has any addition been made to the
general stock of the society : there has been merely the intro-
luction of a new set of marks of distinction. The property in
lation is not augmented, but the coin has received a new
impression, or got increased weight. It may, however, happen
ami very often does happen, that, during the process, a sort of
280 APPENDIX
factitious improvement is introduced, which, while it lasts, is
sometimes nearly equivalent to a real improvement.
Suppose a merchant, seeking to strike out a new branch of
trade, exports to some distant country, and sells there to
advantage, an article of luxury the produce of the community
to which he belongs, and in return receives for it a com-
modity, a simple utility in demand among his countrymen.
Let the former commodity be lace, and the country to which
it is exported E, and the latter commodity barilla, and country
to which it is imported D. In process of time the trade
increases, until a large quantity of lace is exported, and a
large quantity of barilla imported. Suppose, farther, that the
steady demand for the lace, joined to other circumstances,
animates ingenuity to facilitate the process of manufacture,
and that the article is before long produced at half the outlay
it cost when first exported. In the ordinary course of matters,
the diminished cost of production should be followed by a
correspondent reduction in the price it is sold at in E. Two
circumstances, however, may prevent this. The intercourse
between D and E may be very difficult, and clogged by many
obstructions, and the community E may be very numerous,
and may easily absorb a large amount of the article. Both
circumstances would help to diminish the effects of competi-
tion ; the former by lessening the number of competitors, the
latter by preventing the actual competition induced from
operating fully. It might in consequence happen, that lace,
though produced with double facility, [still] sold in E at nearly
the same price as at first. If we suppose that commodity
to be a pure luxury, this would be no disadvantage to E, for the
quantity actually used at that price would serve exactly the
same purpose as double that quantity at a price reduced one
half by reason of the diminished outlay of labor : while, on
the other hand, it would be so far an advantage to D, that it
would place somewhere there the command of all the labor
which in E was actually paid for. Among the members of
the society D, double the quantity of barilla that the labor
[indirectly] expended in procuring it was [equitably] entitled
to, would somehow or another be shared. The advantage
would not certainly, of necessity, have that healthy and
OF FOREIGN TRADE IN LUXURIES 281
vivifying effect which real improvement occasions, for it
might not spread through the whole community, but might
be dissipated in luxuries by the merchants, manufacturers,
and artisans engaged in acquiring it. If, however, in other
branches of trade and of manufactures for exportation, similar
facilities were [generally] introduced, and similar large returns
obtained, and if in all the departments of domestic industry
great real improvements take place, the advance of the whole
society would be uniform, and not much unlike what would
flow from a universally real improvement.
Should two societies in the same way trade together in
mere luxuries, a sort of factitious improvement [for them
both] might be created by the effects of [an artificially] re-
stricted competition. The merchants who engaged in the
trade would, in the first place, acquire [the equivalent of] all
the labor saved by the overcharge of the commodities they
_:'ht and sold, and these benefits might be in both societies
more or less generally diffused.
When, on the other hand, by the removal of [such] restric-
tions, and the increased capacity of industry to fabricate the
goods in request as luxuries, a free competition is induced, all
1 1 !'-> factitious advantages disappear. Each adventurer
endeavoring to beat down his opponent in the foreign market,
tli- productions of the industry of remote countries come to
be offered there, for the lowest amount at which the strength
of the principle of accumulation can permanently continue to
produce them. They may even pass much below this ; for
vanity, capricious in its tastes, soon begins to despise alto-
gether what may be every one's purchase, and leaves what it
once highly prized as now vulgar and unworthy of regard.
In the supposed case of the exportation of lace, that com-
modity might have triple the labor expended on it, and its
quantity might be increased sixfold, and yet might bring in a
smaller return than it did before. The ample revenues which
the merchant, the manufacturer, the artisan, [previously]
derhv'l tY<m the fabrication of such articles, become reduced
to the lowest amount that may suffice to move their respective
i active faculties. Other branches of manufacture share
same fate; the whole machinery of industry is clogged
282 APPENDIX
and encumbered by the heavy additional burden thrown on it,
and distress and discouragement pervade the community.
[To sum up this particular phase of our subject.] Restric-
tions [of any sort, brought about by wars or otherwise,]
operate quite oppositely on the exchange of [pure] luxuries
between communities, from what they do on the exchange of
utilities. Their first effects are beneficial, while their ulterior
effects may be injurious. The interdiction of a pure luxury
occasions no loss whatever to the whole society. It can
scarcely fail to produce a gain. If it diminish the whole
amount of luxuries consumed in the society, that is evidently
so much saved. If, as is more likely, the force of vanity be
not weakened, it must at least be directed to other objects,
probably to some domestic imitation of the foreign article.
In such cases the successful imitators will demand and obtain
prices yielding much larger profits, than their capitals would
give in any other employments. The saving of labor, either
in checking vanity, or in supplying it with less outlay, is gain
to some individuals, loss to none. Competition, however, will
in time reduce the price paid for luxuries, to the lowest
amount for which the laborer and capitalist will exert their
energies. As improvement can have no effect on domestic
luxuries, and as they must always be rated by the real labor
bestowed on them, they are ultimately the productions of all
others least profitable to the society.
There are, however, very few, if any, commodities which
are purely luxuries. Although vanity is in part the cause of
the estimation in which very many are held, and though it
gives to some perhaps nearly their whole value, nevertheless
it seldom exists in any alone. It almost always applies itself,
as I have already observed, to something ministering in some
degree to real wants or pleasures. There is beneath almost
every luxury a substratum of utility of greater or less depth.
The effects, consequently resulting from the exchange be-
tween different communities, of very many commodities, are
compounded of the results produced by the traffic in articles
of utility and of luxury. As it is impossible in almost any
OF FOREIGN TRADE IN LUXURIES 283
case to determine accurately how far any article is or is not a
luxury, there is proportional difficulty in ascertaining what
are the precise effects resulting from the exchanges actually
carried on between any two communities. There is one prin-
ciple which may, in some instances, help to guide us. Almost
all articles of which the consumption is conspicuous, the
precise effects resulting from their physical qualities difficult
to ascertain, and which, from their novelty, have not yet been
subjected to the effects of a free competition, may be presumed
to be in a great degree luxuries. In them, we may be sure,
vanity has found a material on which she could easily fix,
and from which there has been no opportunity of dislodging
her.
The relative effects of restriction, and free competition,
when opportunities have presented themselves of observing
them, enable us, however, with some certainty to determine,
how far the commodities subjected to their operation have
been luxuries, or real utilities. In regard to articles supply-
ing real wants, the more easy and unconstrained the com-
munication, the more extended the production, the freer the
competition, the farther, as we have seen, are the stocks of
instruments of the societies exchanging carried towards the
more quickly returning orders. Every step in advance in the
course is equivalent, subject only to the risk of the communi-
cation being interrupted, to a real improvement. With regard
to such commodities, any general evil resulting from over-
production is quite impossible. A partial glut, as it is termed,
may indeed occur ; but this, although a slight partial evil,
[although an evil to particular persons], must be a general
good. The commodity produced satisfying real wants, an
ased supply of it must diffuse a general and sensible
plenty. In regard to such commodities the reasoning of Mr.
I conceive, conclusive. A general overproduction is
an absurdity, for it implies the means of a general consump-
and would, in fact, be a general improvement. It would
be as if the materials which nature has given to man were to
receive powers in addition to those which they already
possess, for satisfying his wants ; as if the grain of the fields,
the grass of the meadow, the trees of the forest, advanced
284 APPENDIX
more rapidly to perfection, as if the ore yielded up its metallic
treasures with greater facility, the sun diffused a more genial
warmth, and the earth rejoiced in universal and exuberant
fertility. The increased provision for wants thus presented,
must either be consumed, or applied to the formation of in-
struments to supply the demands of a more distant futurity.
But though these are the effects of increased facilities in the
exchange of commodities in as far as they are real utilities, it
is exactly the reverse in so far as they are luxuries. Restric-
tion in the exchange of luxuries may be, and often is felt, as
no diminution of enjoyment, but a great saving of labor, and
the removal of that restriction may almost immediately oblige
all, or many of the communities exchanging, to expend the
whole amount of labor they had before saved. If then we
find that increased facility of exchange, instead of diffusing
plenty, spreads poverty, instead of carrying the stocks of the
communities exhanging towards the more quickly returning
orders, places them in those of slower return, we may assure
ourselves that vanity must have been a very potent agent in
giving to the commodities exchanged the estimation in which
they were held.
Perhaps the most remarkable example that was ever pre-
sented, of general and long continued restrictions being at
once and completely removed, is that which occurred in con-
sequence of the general peace succeeding the final defeat of
the Emperor Napoleon. A power which modern times cannot
parallel, had been long exerted to bind up the commerce of
Europe. It had been exerted in vain, for that commerce still
moved, though it moved in shackles. The termination of the
war undid them at once. The ships of the merchant again
securely passed from land to land, and he again, without fear,
exposed his wares in every market. Had the commodities
thus largely exchanged, been altogether utilities, it is impos-
sible but that a vast improvement must have been universally
experienced, an augmentation of the resources of society every
where felt. The havock and insecurity of war, and the waste
of stock and labor attending it were done away with, and the
whole energy and intelligence of the most powerful and intel-
lectual race which possibly the world has as yet seen, were
OF FOREIGN TRADE IN LUXURIES 285
turned to the arts of peace, and the amelioration of the
condition of man. Instead, however, of having to mark the
progress of abundance, prosperity, and happiness, we are rather
called on to note the prevalence of poverty and distress. It
is I apprehend, impossible, to explain the far extended oppres-
M"n under which capital and industry have labored, but by
admitting that they have applied themselves largely to objects,
the direct effects of the attainment of which are worse than
useless to society. Misery it is true is clamorous, happiness is
quiet, and therefore the amount of the actual distress may
sometimes have been made to appear greater than the reality ;
but admitting a large deduction for misrepresentation thence
arising, there remain too many well authenticated facts and
statements to doubt, that if freedom of intercourse and com-
petition has produced good, it has also produced evil, and
hence that luxuries have made a large part of the commodities
in the production of which that competition has exerted its
powers. We may observe, too, that countries producers of
articles which cannot be accounted luxuries, have in fact
derived great advantages from the facility of intercourse and
increase of exchanges. Russia seems never to have made so
rapid advances, as within the last twenty years, while in Great
Britain protracted misery and distress were never so rife as
they have been for the greater part of that period. Were
European nations ranged according to [the character of] their
productions, those two countries would probably be at opposite
extremities of the scale of industry.
ARTICLE III.
OF THE OPERATIONS OF THE LEGISLATOR ON LUXURIES.
THE legislator is always called on to provide a considerable
annual revenue. He has to provide for the expenses incident
to the conduct of present wars, to the burdens imposed by
those of preceding times, to the construction and maintenance
of public works, to the encouragement of science and art by
premiums and otherwise, and to various other outlays. If
any part, therefore, of this necessary annual expenditure, can
be drawn from funds naturally dissipated in luxury, the art
of the legislator will here effect a saving to the community to
that amount.
Commodities which are mere luxuries, derive their value, as
we have seen, from the difficulty of obtaining them. The
amount of labor [and other costs of production] necessary to
procure them, and which thus may be said to be embodied in
them, is what makes them esteemed. It is through it that
they become fit objects of vanity, marks of riches, things dis-
tinguishing their possessors from other men. It is of no
consequence how this labor has been expended. It may have
been given to ransack the depths of the earth as for diamonds,
or of the sea as for pearls. All that the possessor of the
luxury desires, is, to have a means of showing that he has
acquired the command of a certain amount of the exertions of
other men. It is a matter of indifference to him, what the
difficulty is, to surmount which these exertions are necessary.
Thus, were we to suppose that diamonds could only be obtained
from one particular and distant country, and pearls from
OF LUXURIES AS OBJECTS OF TAXATION 287
another, and were the produce of the mines in the former, and
of the fishery in the latter, from the operation of natural causes
to become doubly difficult to procure, the effect would merely
be that in time half the quantity of diamonds and pearls that
it had before been necessary to employ for that purpose, would
be sufficient to mark a certain opulence and rank. The same
quantity of gold, or some other commodity reducible at last to
labor, would be required to procure the now reduced amount,
as the former larger amount. Were the difficulty interposed
by the regulations of the legislators of the distant countries,
it could make no difference to the fitness of these articles to
serve the purposes of vanity. As in the case of a natural
difficulty, an additional quantity of labor would be requisite
to procure [on the market] the commodities in question, and
they would, therefore, equally serve the purposes of vanity.
Nor would it seem to alter the case, were the difficulty
interposed by the legislator of the society consuming [but not
producing] the articles.
For the sake of illustration, we may suppose that some par-
ticular society is possessed of a pearl fishery, from which its
members are supplied with the pearls they use, and farther,
that the case may assume the simplest form, that this society
has no communication with any other. The fishery is situ-
.itfil in a particular bay, where alone, it is found, the animals
yielding these concretions can live. The labor annually ex-
pended in procuring this luxury, amounts to a million days, or
< >ning each day at two shillings, to one hundred thousand
pounds. Each day's labor procures one hundred oysters ; from
which, on an average, one pearl is procured. In this state of
things a discovery is made, similar to that which Linnaeus
conceived probable. It is found, that, by a particular process,
the diseased action in this creature, which, like ossification in
the human body, produces a deposition of calcareous matter
in its fleshy substance, instead of on the sustaining earthy
portion of its frame, may be induced ad libitum. The effect
of this discovery is to diminish very greatly the labor neces-
sary to procure these substances. In process of time, every
hundred oysters, instead of one, yield, on an average, five
pearls, consequently the amount of labor expended
288 APPENDIX
in procuring each might be little more than the five hundredth
part of what it was.
The ultimate effect of such a change would depend on
win -t her the fishery were free or not. Were it free to all, as
pearls could be got simply for the labor of fishing for them, a
string of them might be had for a few pence. The very poorest
class of women in the society could, therefore, afford to de-
corate their persons with them. They would thus soon become
extremely vulgar, and unfashionable, and so at last valueless.
If, however, we suppose that instead of the fishery being
free, the legislator owns and has complete command of the
place, w r here alone pearls are to be procured, as the progress
of discovery advanced, he might impose a duty on them equal
to the diminution of labor necessary to procure them. They
would then be as much esteemed as they were before. What
simple beauty they have would remain unchanged. The diffi-
culty to be surmounted in order to obtain them, would be
different, but equally great [would be less for the producer,
but equally great for the consumer], and they would, there-
fore, equally serve to mark the opulence of those who pos-
sessed them. If we suppose the yearly expense of obtaining
the pearls, and of collecting the duty on them, to amount to
twenty thousand pounds, there would then remain to the
legislator, a clear annual revenue from this source of eighty
thousand pounds. This revenue would not cost the society
any thing. If not abused in its application, it would be a clear
addition of so much to the resources of the community.
Were the precious metals in reality, as Adam Smith seems
to have conceived, mere luxuries, a tax imposed on them at
the mines would have a similar effect to the hypothetical tax
on pearls, which we have been considering. It would make
a real addition of so much to the revenue of the community
possessing the mines. In this case the tax imposed by the
king of Spain on the gold and silver obtained from America
amounting at first to half of the whole quantity annually pro-
cured, would not, unless among the first adventurers, have
caused any diminution of the revenue of individuals, and its
produce would have formed a large real addition to the general
revenue of the society.
OF LUXURIES AS OBJECTS OF TAXATION 289
Neither in this case, however, nor perhaps in any other,
have commodities altogether luxuries presented themselves to
the operations of the legislator. They all, probably, derive
part of their value from their utility, although in many
instances the part it makes up may be very small. Hence
a general tax upon almost any class of commodities, is a tax
in whole, or in part, upon some utility, and abstracts some-
thing from the revenue of its consumers. All silk goods are
perhaps in part luxuries to the majority of those who con-
suiiir tin in. They are also, however, in a very great degree,
ami to all classes, utilities. There is a real beauty and dura-
bility in such fabrics, probably in many cases sufficient to
warrant the higher price paid for them. A general tax, there-
fore, upon silks, though it would in part be a tax on luxuries,
and, in so far, occasion no diminution of the [real] revenues
of any one, would also in part be a tax upon utilities,
abstracting a real amount from the funds [pleasures] of
individuals. The same things will hold true concerning a
great number of commodities. Pure vanity, and real enjoy-
ment, have each a place, as we have seen, in the general
txjM nditure of almost every person.
But though this is true of taxes levied generally on any
class of commodities, it yet not unfrequently happens, that
taxes on commodities of the same class may be so ordered as
to fall nearly, or altogether, on luxuries. It may be, though
a whole class of commodities have, under the appearance
of luxury they exhibit, a considerable substratum of real
utility, that yet individuals of the class, not differing from
re in the quantum of utility they possess, may have some
serving to afford a hold to vanity, and to enable
that passion to raise their value very high, by making them
pass as marks of the superiority of one man over another.
As these, therefore, differ from other commodities of the sort,
iy in the amount of luxury embodied in them, a tax on
tin in may be considered as altogether a tax on luxuries,
giving a revenue to the legislator, and taking nothing from
-ociety. 1
e managers of the passenger traffic on European railways, and the
managers of city theatres everywhere, make use of the principle here set
T
290 APPENDIX
Alcoholic liquors, considered as a class, are probably, in a
great degree, luxuries. They may in part be really useful,
but certainly, speaking in the general, their consumption is
not measured by the utility resulting from it. Some of them,
however, agreeing with each other in the amount of utility
they may possess, differ yet largely in the quantum of luxury
embodied in tlu'in. Thus it is, I apprehend, very difficult to
say whether rum, brandy, whisky, or gin, considering each
with regard to its intrinsic qualities, is the preferable liquor.
It seems probable that they are nearly alike in most respects,
save their being more or less luxuries. In Great Britain rum
is, I believe, at least double the price of whisky, and brandy
still higher, the consumption, therefore, of the dearer article
instead of the cheaper, must arise nearly altogether from
vanity. In Canada, again, the price at which Scotch whisky
is sold, is double the price of rum, and considerably above the
price of brandy. The excess of its price above these other
liquors must, therefore, be considered a luxury. 1 The chief
part of the high price in England of rum and brandy, is made
up of the duty paid to the government. In this case, there-
fore, the legislator would seem to derive a revenue from mere
luxuries. Were such duties withdrawn, and were not the
measure to lead to an increased and extravagant consumption
of alcoholic liquors in general, it would have the effect of
changing the sort of liquors consumed. Rum and brandy
being as cheap as whisky, would come, with many people, to
occupy the place of it, they would no longer afford a peculiar
gratification to vanity, and that passion would fly off to some
other article, fitted for its purpose, in all probability, not by
the operations of the legislator, but by the real expenditure
of labor or some equivalent to it. The society, considered as
forth. The "substratum of real utility," in the one case, is to see the
play, and in the other, to be transported from one place to another. The
managers artfully combine with these "utilities," through a system of classi-
fication, a means of attainment of social distinction.]
1 The quantity consumed is small. It would in all likelihood be much
greater, v/ere it not for the difficulty of distinguishing it from whisky of
the country, which sells at less than one fourth of the price. Scotch whisky
brings 10s. per gallon ; Canadian, from 2s. to 3s.
OF LUXURIES AS OBJECTS OF TAXATION 291
a body, would lose the advantages of the revenue before at
the command of the legislator, and, considered as individuals,
they would gain nothing. Certain classes among them would
merely change the form of some of the characters, by which
they marked to others their relative means and stations.
It would appear, then, that the powers of the legislator,
when prudently directed in the taxation of luxuries, may
be so exercised as to raise a considerable revenue, without
trenching at all on the incomes of individuals. It is to be
observed, that his proceedings in this way have a greater
chance of success, when he levies duties on foreign, than on
domestic commodities. Almost all commodities of home
manufacture form large classes, running gradually into one
another, and so not easily discriminated, or affording any
very striking characteristics to serve the purposes of vanity.
It \ve examine, for instance, the manufactures in Britain of
cloths, or of malt liquors, we shall find in them all a great
number of commodities differing very little from each other.
If a heavy duty be then imposed on any of them, there is a
considerable chance of its consumption greatly diminishing or
ceasing altogether. Were porter taxed more highly than other
malt liquors, there are so many sorts of ales which very nearly
resemble it, or might be made to do so, that instead of being
converted by the tax into an especial luxury, it is probable
the consumption of porter would nearly cease. The imposition
of a high duty on any particular sort of foreign wine, has not
BO great a tendency to diminish its consumption ; people would
still ill-ink claret, however highly it were taxed, because it has
qualities sufficiently marked to distinguish it from other wines,
an<l to make, therefore, its consumption capable of denoting
a degree of present opulence, proportioned to the price it costs.
Some commodities of domestic manufacture are, neverthe-
less, much better fitted for the operations of the legislator
than others. A duty, for instance, on the finer textures of
cottons and linen- mi-lit perhaps be so levied as to mak- it
nearly altogether a tax on luxuries. The fineness of the
thn-ad in these fabrics, affords a pretty conspicuous mark.
and liy raiding the impost gradually in proportion to it, the
more delicate sorts might, perhaps, come to be esttM m. 1 as
292 APPENDIX
adequate marks of a capacity to expend largely and so be
converted into especial luxuries. In this case part of the
expenditure of individuals, which is now dissipated in chang-
ing fashions, would be made over to the legislator, and might
suffice to sustain some part of the public burdens.
All such duties, however, require to be laid on very gradu-
ally, else the consumption of the commodities on which they
are imposed may very probably be stopped. Men have
generally a very high opinion of the reasonableness of their
conduct, and the correctness of their taste. They are apt to
fancy that there is a real and very great enjoyment in ex-
penses, which, in truth, have scarce anything to recommend
them but the gratification they afford to vanity. In like
manner, when any article rises suddenly and greatly in price,
when in their power, they are prone to adopt some substitute
and relinquish the use of it. In such cases the observation is
forced on them, that the commodity is no better than it was
before, and that, if then they sometimes used another for it,
the best thing for them now to do is to confine themselves
altogether to that other. Hence, were a high duty at once
imposed on any particular wine, or any particular sort of
cotton fabric, it might have the effect of diminishing the
consumption very greatly, or stopping it entirely. Whereas,
were the tax at first very slight, and then slowly augmented,
the reasoning powers not being startled, vanity, instead of
flying off to some other objects, would be apt to apply itself
to them as affording a convenient means of gratification.
The chief practical objection to such imposts, as a source of
revenue, is the expense of collection and the attempts gener-
ally made to evade them. The former diminishes the amount
yielded by them, the latter is injurious to the morals of the
people. Both are greater in commodities of domestic, than of
foreign manufacture. In articles produced within the country,
it is necessary to watch the whole progress of manufacture,
and to guard against imposition at every stage. Commodities,
on the other hand, imported from abroad, have only to be
watched at the time and place of importation.
There is a case in which duties imposed on foreign com-
modities, have particular advantages. It not unfrequently
OF LUXURIES AS OBJECTS OF TAXATION 293
happens that in manufactures which it is the object of the
legislator to introduce, and carry to perfection within the
society, the chief, perhaps the only difference, between the
enjoyment afforded by the foreign and by the domestic article
lies in the gratification the former affords to vanity. Thi^ is
very generally the case in all commodities affording materials
for such articles of dress as are seen by many, these being
always in a great degree luxuries. I very much question, for
instance, whether the passage of the manufacture of calicoes
from Britain to America, has occasioned the wearers of calicoes
in the United States any sensible diminution in the comfort,
or in the pleasure arising from the perception of beauty,
afforded by such articles. The standard is in such cases
altogether relative, the pleasure given by any particular dress
of this sort arising from its being as fashionable, and as be-
coming as the dresses of other persons, or more fashionable
and more becoming than theirs, and the chief requisite for
rendering any fabric fashionable, seeming to be that it be
costly, and have novelty. The unrestrained introduction of
British or other foreign calicoes would, therefore, in all pro-
bability, have been felt, merely as a change in fashion, not as
an increase of pleasure or diminution of cost.
There are very many similar cases. As the great mass of
commodities are in part utilities, in part luxuries, so, in trans-
fVring the manufacture of any of them from one country to
another, it very frequently happens that, in as far as the
article in question has real utility, the domestic soon equals
the foreign variety. It is chiefly in a laborious finish, for the
' part the result of the demands of vanity, that the former
falls behind the latter. In such instances the operation of
t. i riiiL: the art from one country to another, by means
of a protective duty, takes either very little, or nothing, from
the revenue of individuals, and makes, it may be, a consider-
able addition to that of the legislator. Its general effects on
funds of the community, are [accordingly] directly and
indirectly, to advance the absolute capital of the society by
t!i. intrMluction of a new art, and, during the process, to give
a considerable revenue to the legislator for the attainment of
public objects, without encroaching at all, or but in a very
294 APPENDIX
slight degree, on the returns made by the industry or stocks
of individuals.
[The leading objection to the foregoing, founded on the
principles of Adam Smith,] proceeds on the assumption, that
what is true concerning the wealth of individuals, and suffi-
ciently explains its increase and diminution, is also true
concerning the wealth of societies, and fully explains the
causes of its increase and diminution.
If, other circumstances remaining unaltered, a single in-
dividual in a society acquires the power of purchasing some
article entering into his system of consumption, at less cost
than before, he is by so much a gainer, and the change is
equivalent to a proportional increase in [his] revenue. 1 Trans-
ferring this fact to societies, it is held that the revenue of
every society is increased in exact proportion to the diminu-
tion in the cost of any article entering into its system of
consumption, and diminished in proportion to the increase in
the cost of any such article. By how much, therefore, any
operations of the legislator add to the price of any commodity,
by so much, it is said, they always, and in every case, take
from the revenue of the society. When, therefore, by taxing
foreign luxuries, the legislator raises their price, it is asserted
that he proportionally diminishes the general revenue ; [and
thereby the general stock or capital, since capital can only
augment by accumulation from revenue].
The answer to this objection is, that though as every
commodity consumed by an individual, derives the estimation
in which it is held from something in some most complicated
system of persons and things constituting the society of which
he is a member, while that system remains in all its parts un-
changed, whatever gives him the command of a greater portion
of the particular commodity than before, necessarily increases
the amount of commodities, which, compared with others, he
possesses, and thus makes him, as compared with them, so
much richer; yet, if any commodity become universally
cheaper throughout a whole society, as this implies a change
to a certain extent in the system of things, comprehended
1 [See the first paragraph of Number 9 of the Residua.]
OF LUXURIES AS OBJECTS OF TAXATION 295
with persons in the term society, it may be that the revolution
may affect the causes giving estimation to the commodity in
question, and that, until we know whether or not this be the
case, and how it operates, we act with unwarrantable rashness
in transferring rules true concerning individuals, to societies,
and in asserting that a general diminution in cost, is, in all
cases, equivalent to a general increase of revenue, or a general
augmentation of cost, to a general diminution of revenue.
That if there be any class of commodities, the estimation of
which depends wholly, or in part, on their power to mark the
possession of a certain relative superiority, or a command
greater or less of the labor of other men, then the generally
diminished cost of such commodities, lessening their power to
mark the desired distinction, and taking thus in a like degree
from that for which they were altogether, or in part, esteemed,
either makes no change in the general revenue, or a smaller
change than that indicated by the amount of the diminution.
That as regards commodities serving merely, as Mr. Storch ex-
presses it, for marks of opulence, their fitness for the purpose
is diminished as their cost becomes less, and, therefore, a
diminution of their cost produces no increase, or no pro-
portionate increase, of general revenue, and an increase of it,
no diminution, or no proportionate diminution of general
revenue. 1 That thus, though, were the power of procuring a
string of pearls for a few hours labor given to any individual
European, it might very greatly increase his wealth, yet, the
same power given to all Europeans, would produce no increase,
1 It is remarkable that neither Adam Smith, nor Mr. Say, nor Mr. Storch,
although they have stated distinctly enough in various places, that many
imodities derive their whole, or the greater part of their value, from the
gratification they afford to vanity, their power to mark the superiority of
one man over another, seem to have perceived that the admission was fatal
to the majority of their theoretical conclusions. They consequently have not
thought it necessary to adduce any reasons to show that the operations of the
gislator, on such commodities, may not have the beneficial effects indicated
in the text. Mr. Say, indeed, has the following passage.
De ce que le prix est la mesure de la valeur des choses, et de ce que leur
valeur est la mesure de leur utilite, il ne faudrait pas tirer la consequence
aUurde qu'en faisant monter leur prix par la violence, on aceroit leur utilit- .
La valeur ^changeable ou appreciative n'est une indication de 1'uti..
la production reelle, qu'autant que cette valeur est abaudounce a elle mdme
296 APPENDIX
or no proportional increase to European wealth, and, on the
contrary, as the facility of purchase by putting the wearing of
pearls out of fashion, would probably render the stock of
these articles in the possession of individuals, valueless, it
would, in all probability, proportionably diminish the amount
of wealth actually existing. 1
et que 1'action des homnies qui font un marche est entierement libre ; de
meme qu'une barometre n'indique la pesanteur de 1'atmosphere, qu'autant que
le mercure peut s'y mouvoir avec faciliteV' p. 5. vol. I.
So far as the above is applicable to luxuries, it is evidently nothing but an
ipse dixit dressed in a metaphor, a sort of argument too economical to admit
of an answer. If luxury, "Luxe de 1'ostentation, " be, as Mr. Say himself
says, "une consommation qui n'a pour objet que cette defense m6me ; une
destruction de valeur qui ne se propose d'autre but que cette destruction "
(vol. II. p. 225), it surely matters not to the consumer how this value be given
to the commodity.
1 [See " Note M " in the Appendix.]
[We get in the above statement of principles an important suggestion as to
the erroneous tactics hitherto pursued by most advocates of unimpeded foreign
trade. The mistake has been made of taking up the defence of the consumer
of commiserating him for the burdens he has to bear because of tariffs. We
now see that such is the nature of expenditure for consumption (a large part
of it) that he is going to be burdened in any event. If the government does
not tax him he will tax himself.
The line of battle should be drawn not in the realm of exchange but in that
of production. The question should be asked, how does the protective policy
as actually carried into practice affect the forces of production the prime
movers of industry. Does it promote or hinder them ?]
ARTICLE IV.
OF THE ART OF THE BANKER.
PART I.-OF BANKING IN GENERAL.
PART II. -OF PARTICULAR SYSTEMS OF BANKING.
PART 7. 1
THK business of banking, seems to owe its foundation and
extension, to its capacity for giving room for the developement
of the benefits, and for restraining and remedying the evils of
the system of credit. The operations which the banker
executes in a great society, have more than the advantages of
those performed by the system of virements in France, or
Russia, and by the petty store-keeper in a remote American
settlement, and avoid many of the inconveniences of both.
He is the instrument, through which the mass of the ex-
changes, taking place in the community, is performed. It
is his Uisiness to furnish the means of transacting all ex-
changes that the condition of the society requires, and it is
the business of all individuals having many such exchanges
to effect, to make application to him for the means of transact-
ing them.
In a great society, a person extensively engaged in business,
may, in a short time, have transactions with twenty, thirty, or
a hundred individuals; his circumstances can be known but
to a few of them, nor is it possible for him to produce to each
satisfactory evidence of his own capacity to discharge his
1 [This is the omission from Chapter VIII., where Rae began his discussion
of the subject of credit.]
298 APPENDIX
engagements, or to give him the security of others for their
performance, and even could he do this, it would be insuffi-
cient for the purposes of the greater part of them. If such a
person, however, really possessed funds in trade and manufac-
ture, if he really owned a stock of instruments requiring a
constant change and transfer with those in the hands of
others, he might find means to satisfy one individual, the
banker, of his capacity to execute these exchanges in reason-
able time, or procure others to be responsible for his doing it.
It is then the business of the banker to give him the means of
iloing so, and he accordingly lends him money when he
requires to add to his stock of instruments, that is to buy, and
receives money from him again, when he transfers instruments
to others, that is, when he effects sales. Every person engaged
in business doing the same, the banker is the general lender,
and receiver of the society.
The mechanism of banking is managed in two ways. The
one is by discounting bills, that is, by giving money immedi-
ately, for the obligations by which one man contracts to pay
money to another, at some future time, deducting a part, the
proportion of which is determined by the order in which
instruments stand in the society, and by the length of the
period. This method is analogous to that of virements, but
far preferable. Thus, an individual who holds an obligation
by which another binds himself to pay him the sum of two
thousand pounds in six months, were he in some parts of
Russia, would be justifiable, were he confident of the solvency
of his debtor, to contract obligations to that amount, and pay-
able at the same time. Were he then desirous of having
something transferred to him, of the value of two thousand
pounds, his granting an obligation to that amount, and payable
at six months, might help to make the two transactions of
easy arrangement. But, supposing that he were desirous of
having a number of small transfers made to him, that he were
to grant a proportional number of obligations, that the per-
sons to whom he granted them were again to grant others,
still smaller and more numerous, and that these were again to
be subdivided and reunited, it is evident that the mass of
affairs, would become so complicated, and the number of in-
OF BANKING 299
dividuals concerned in them so large, that the trouble of
arranging them would be excessive. This system is of con-
sequence, as has been already observed, of limited application.
But when an individual gets a bill discounted, the transfers he
effects with the bank bills he receives, occasion no future
trouble to himself or others.
The system of bank credits is the second mode, in which the
business of banking is managed. It is somewhat analogous to
that carried on, through the aid of the books of the North
rican store-keeper. The banker gives the means of effect-
ing any purchases which those dealing with him are desirous
<>t' making, and, when they sell, gives them immediate credit
for the amount they receive. He is not, however, like the
store-keeper, urged on, by the dread of a stock of goods lying
on his hands too long, to allow people to run accounts with
him, whose credit is in any means doubtful. He is a dealer
simply in credit, and it is his business, before giving credit, to
demand such security as may satisfy him that he can sustain
no loss, and this being granted, to afford the requisite accom-
modation on reasonable terms.
The advantages which the banker derives from being the
general lender of the community, arises chiefly, from the
peculiar sort of money he lends. It is not specie, but merely
an obligation to pay in specie. But as all who engage in
business have to return cash to him, it is equally good to them
as specie, and through them is equally well received among
the other members of the community. Thus the money of the
hanker comes to make a great part, or nearly the whole, of
the circulating medium.
The benefits which the society receives from the system,
when there are no defects in the conduct of it, seems to be
fold.
1st. As far as it extends, the expense of the circulating
medium, the expense which men in business must otherwise
be put to by being obliged to have a quantity of cash always
lying by them to meet sudden emergencies, is done away
\\ith. When a man wants cash, he goes to the bank for it;
\vln.-n he has cash, he carries it to the bank. Money never lies
300 APPENDIX
2d. It does away with all deficiency in the circulating
medium [in respect to the individual]. 1 When the system of
instruments which belong to an individual, is defective in any
part, he can at once supply the defect, and when it is redun-
dant, he has no difficulty in disposing of the superfluity where
it may be usefully employed.
3d. It does both, without the evils otherwise attendant on
the substitution of credit for coin. The dealings of men of
prudence and character, are not so mixed up with those of
improvident and suspicious persons, as to make the one bear
the burden of the losses sustained through the folly or dis-
honesty of the other. Every instrument, as its formation is
pushed on by the industry of the members of the society, is
moved directly to its proper station. It neither runs the risk
of being subjected to remain useless, owing to the expense of
moving it, nor of being misplaced or destroyed in the process
of moving it. 2
The tendency of these three effects, flowing from the bank-
ing system properly conducted, is to carry the instruments
subject to the operation of exchange, to orders of more quick
return, than they would otherwise have occupied. The outlay
expended on them is not so great, and they sooner make the
expected returns. The accumulative principle receives in con-
sequence, a stimulus, that enables it to embrace a larger
compass of instruments, and the general stock of the society
is soon proportionally increased. Greater facility is also given
to the division of employments, from there being no ex-
traneous obstruction to the additional exchanges required,
and hence new branches of business arise. From both these
circumstances, the number and amount of exchanges increase.
The money of the banker, compared with gold and silver, as
a medium of exchange, would thus seem to be not only less
expensive, but more efficient. When the circulating medium in
1 [That is, the solvent individual never finds himself without the means of
making a purchase which comes within his general financial ability. See
paszim.]
2 [The statements in this last paragraph are obviously an exaggeration. But
the burden of business risk is certainly greatly mitigated under a regime of
banking.]
OF BANKING 301
any country is specie, probably far the larger portion of it lies
idle. Every merchant, in such a country, has a quantity of
gold or silver, proportioned in amount to the business he
carries on, doing actually nothing, but only waiting to do
whatever may offer. The strong boxes of all the merchants
in the country, always hold, therefore, a large portion of its
capital in inactivity. In a country, on the other hand, where
the bills of the banker form the circulating medium, the quan-
tity of money lying for any time idle [outside the reserve of
the bankers themselves] is insignificant. No money is re-
tained, but for a specific purpose. In Scotland, for example,
every merchant places in the hands of the banker, all the cash
for which he has not immediate use.
Were we, therefore, to confine the advantages derived from
the institution of banks, in any community, to the substitu-
tion of a cheap medium, for a dear one, we should make an
imperfect estimate of them. 1 If, for instance, the circulating
medium in any country be one million in coin, and if that be
superseded by paper, should the quantity of paper in circula-
tion be found to amount also to one million, it would indicate
a great increase in the transfers effected, and would show,
either that a larger compass of materials had been brought
within reach of the accumulative principle, or that employ-
ments had been more subdivided, or that both these circum-
stances had occurred.
From the same causes, the effects of a recurrence to a
jtallic currency, and the compulsory substitution of one
lillion of specie, for one of paper, would be far from being
limited to the expense of the bullion employed in the opera-
tion. It would, besides this, render impracticable a multitude
ransfers, that might otherwise have taken place, dis-
organize the whole system of exchange, place the stock of
the society in orders of slower return, and put a mass of
materials, which the accumulative principle had before been
to grasp, beyond its reach.
The extent to which the banking system may, in any
country be carried, seems to depend on four circumstances.
1st. The amount of the science, skill, and population exist-
1 [This is a covert criticism of Adam Smith. See Part II. of this article.]
302 APPENDIX
ing in the country, to work up the materials it affords, and
the abundance of these materials.
2d. The strength of the accumulative principle, the oppor-
tunity it has had to operate, and consequent division of
employments, approach of instruments to the more slowly
returning orders, and accumulation of stock. These two
circumstances determine the amount of the possible exchanges,
and, consequently, [at any given level of prices] of the [amount
of] money [of all kinds] that may be employed in effecting
them.
3d. The general intelligence, sagacity, and integrity of the
members of the community. A person greatly deficient in
any of these respects, is one with whom a banker would not
wish to deal. But, these qualities are of those giving strength
to the effective desire of accumulation ; this circumstance,,
therefore, may be considered as merging in the last, the
general strength of the accumulative principle.
4th. The efficiency and security of the system of banking
adopted.
On the other hand, the benefits to be derived from banking,,
in proportion to its extent, would seem to be greater, the
nearer instruments are to the more quickly returning orders,
and the greater consequently the scarcity of specie. Where,
therefore, the accumulative principle being strong, and from
the implied intelligence, and honesty of the community, the
system of banking extensively practicable, but from want of
time to work up materials to more slowly returning orders,
instruments are at those of quicker return, there the opera-
tions of the banker are peculiarly beneficial.
We have, perhaps, sufficiently enlarged already, on the three
first of the circumstances referred to. It only remains, to-
show the chief points of connexion of the last of them, with
the principles it has been attempted to explain. To do so, it
is necessary to refer to the occasional evils resulting from the
system of banking, diminishing its general utility. They may
be reduced to two.
1st. The money which bankers circulate, must be the repre-
sentative of real property. It must be exchangeable for some
commodity, or commodities, equal to the amount at which it
OF BANKING 303
is rated. If it may be always exchanged for specie, or for
some proportion of the general revenue abstracted for the
purposes of government, it will be a representative of some-
thing real. But it sometimes happens that bankers squander,
or waste, the funds provided for payment of the demands to
which they are liable, and this being discovered, their money
becomes valueless, and those holding it as an equivalent to
capital, sustain loss to the amount they hold. 1 The loss thus
sustained, both in itself, and in the general diminution of
confidence in banking transactions and retardation of ex-
changes consequent on it, makes it a matter of great import-
ance to every mercantile community, to have banks of
indubitable solvency established throughout it. (It were
beyond the present purpose, to inquire into the particular
system and regulations that may best produce such a result.
Tlu-re are, however, two general observations, arising from
the nature of things, which naturally present themselves.
When capital is largely accumulated, and at orders of slow
return, there will be very many, who will be disposed to allow
their funds to remain in that employment, and be content
with the moderate revenue thus produced to them. When,
on the other hand, they are at orders of quicker return, there
is a great temptation to divert the fund, set apart for these
purposes, to speculations promising great gain, but sometimes
]ir< ) lucing great loss. Banking will consequently be in general
t . \\here capital is most largely accumulated.
Again, as no possible precaution can prevent a company of
bankers from acting dishonestly, who are willing to combine
uch a purpose, for they can only be required to produce
statements drawn up by themselves, where there exists a
great deficiency of real principle, and a proneness to defraud,
banking IM Tonics dangerous or impracticable.)
2d. The second evil arising from the practice of bank in-
has its origin, in the system of credit itself; and the shock
1 [That is, those holding a claim on the bankers as an equivalent to real
"Capital" of course with Rae means instruments other than tin
peculiar instrument of exchange, money. The proper term for an accumulated
stock of money is funds. .Sometimes in this Article Rae uses this term, l>ut
more often falls carelessly into employing the term capital.]
304 APPENDIX
which, as it is founded on prevailing opinion, it is liable to
receive from whatever shakes public confidence.
Every person engaged in the formation and transfer of
commodities, and adopting the system of credit as the medium
of transfer, is indebted to some individuals, as, in turn, other
individuals are indebted to him. The stock also of instru-
ments he has on hand, allows him to offer a certain amount of
commodities for sale, and requires him, if he continue his
business on the same footing, to purchase certain other com-
modities, and pay for certain amounts of labor. What is
owing him, and payable within a given time, may exceed
what he owes others, payable within the same time, or may
equal it, or come short of it. What he is able to sell others
within a given time, may also exceed what he requires to buy
within the same time, or may be equal to, or less than it. It
will always be the case, too, that individuals will look forward
for the means of discharging the debts they have contracted,
not only to the debts owing them by others, but to the sales
they expect to effect. Were this to happen only to persons of
really abundant capital, there would be no reason to fear the
non-performance of engagements contracted. But it also
happens to those, whose capitals have been reduced by mis-
fortune or imprudence, and therefore, there are always many
in every mercantile community, whose ability to discharge
their obligations is more or less doubtful. When, therefore,
any cause operating extensively, and prejudicially, on mercan-
tile transactions occurs, it generally happens, that there arise
cases of incapacity to meet engagements, and, as one man
depends for the means of discharging his debts, on the debts
others owe him, that embarrassment and distress spread
throughout the whole mercantile body. The experience of
the misfortunes attending this state of things, leads every one
engaged in business, when he thinks there is reason to fear
its approach, to endeavor to withdraw himself from the
danger, by avoiding to contract obligations to pay. There is
consequently a general diminution of purchases, and a general
temporary fall in prices. 1
1 Market price, which is fluctuating, is here spoken of. What is termed
the natural price of things, or their general average price, is that alone treated
OF BANKING 305
But while prudent people are thus able to secure themselves
from evil, they increase the difficulties of those, who have
contracted obligations to pay, in dependence on the proceeds
of sales to be effected ; and some of these becoming incapable
of obtaining the means of meeting their engagements, their
failure increases the general distress, and farther lessens the
number inclined to purchase.
At this conjuncture, the affairs of the banker undergo a revo-
lution. For, as the number of buyers diminishes, there is less
money requisite for transacting the business of the com-
munity, and this overplus naturally returns on him. But
while less money is really wanted to execute the business of
the society, he is called on to furnish as much, or probably
The debts those dealing with him formerly contracted
have to be paid, while the sales of commodities, the means by
which it was anticipated that part of the funds for that pay-
ment would be procured, have much diminished.
The situation of the banker becomes therefore at this crisis,
very critical. He cannot, in justice to himself, grant all the
requisite accommodation, and yet, his refraining from doing
so must aggravate existing evils. As specie is, in such a state
<>i things, the most desirable of commodities, he has reason to
fear that a large portion of his money will be returned on
him, which he will be required to replace with gold or silver,
and he knows that if a suspicion of his solvency arise, he may
be required thus to replace the whole of it. If he be unable
Meet these difficulties, his failure adds very much to the
general mass of misfortune, and farther diminishes public
confidence. 1
The natural termination to such a state of things, would
<>f in other parts of this inquiry, it being only the permanent causes affecting
Mcrease and diminution of stock, that it was proposed to investigate.
On this account, the view here given of phenomena resulting in a great
measure from the operation of temporary causes, is somewhat confined and
feet,
llfnce, for example, the subject of pure profit is almost wholly neglected
ie ; that being essentially a matter dependent on " temporary causes."]
1 [It is noteworthy that Hae had so grasped the situation even at the early
it which he wrote, that he represent* that it is a different sort of pressure
than a " run," which a solvent banker first experiences in times of crisis.]
U
306 APPENDIX
i to be the diminution of contracts, and consequently of
debts, progressively diminishing the amount of payments, for
which it is necessary to provide. This termination is retarded
by the struggles of those whose real funds, in proportion to
the extent of their business, are smallest, and whose motives
to engage in fresh transactions, are chiefly the hopes of extri-
cating themselves from the embarrassments in which present
transactions have involved them. It is also more injuriously
retarded, as has been observed, by the failure of those engaged
in the business of banking.
The liability of the mercantile community to be largely
affected by such sudden pressures, must depend, in a great
degree, on the peculiar circumstances of the country, and
nature of the employments and trades carried on in it.
It must also be dependent on the system of banking, that
is there pursued, and its capacity to furnish funds where there
is real capital ; to check unsafe and gambling transactions by
withholding funds from those desirous of extending hazardous
speculations, though deficient in capital ; and to pursue its
operations steadily and confidently notwithstanding any
general embarrassment. To attempt, however, an enumera-
tion and comparison of the different systems of transacting
the business of banking, which have been adopted in different
times and places, would involve us in inquiries of so compli-
cated a nature, that while to discuss them partially would be
unsatisfactory, to do so fully would lead too far from our pre-
sent object. I reserve therefore the few observations I have
to make on the subject, to another place.
PART II.
According to the view of banking given in the foregoing
outline, it is an art which time, and what we call chance,
have wrought out of the circumstances of European society,
and the use of which is to quicken the exhaustion of instru-
ments, by facilitating exchanges. But, according to this view
of the subject, the consideration of two circumstances gene-
rally combined with banking transactions, is omitted. The
business of banking has been very often combined with the
OF BANKING 307
payment and receipt of the revenue of the state. Whatever
the government receives, in lieu of the precious metals, or
other commodities, in payment of the imposts it levies, will
have the value of that for which it is taken in exchange.
Government may so give the value of the precious metals to
paper, or any other material, and, for its own convenience,
may circulate the money which it in this manner issues
through the medium of a bank. Thus the Bank of England
may be said to be founded on the transactions of this sort, of
th. British government. This is, however, a circumstance by
n<> means necessarily connected with banking. Indeed, I
think there is reason to believe, that, from the great fluctua-
tions thus introduced into what is called the money market,
by the magnitude of the transactions of the state, the union
of the two, when it takes place, operates injuriously on the
ral system of exchange of the country.
The other circumstance to which I allude, is the exchange
of the precious metals between different countries. Banks, as
the great dealers in these metals, are necessarily exposed to
the inconvenience of having to provide a supply for the
demands occasioned by fluctuations in the business of differ-
ent countries. Although, however, this circumstance is always
more or less intimately connected with the business of bank-
in -. it is not necessary for our purpose to examine the effects
resulting from it.
We may confine our attention, therefore, altogether to the
consideration of the art, as a means of facilitating exchanges
within any society. A brief statement of its condition in
bind, a country in which, to judge from the circumstances
attending its introduction, and the practical benefits arising
fnm its operation, it has probably arrived as near perfection
as any where, may sufficiently serve the purpose of showing
tin manner in which the mode of its operation may be
nurd by the principles I have endeavored to develop, and
how it seems to attain the power of communicating the
advantages it is capable of bestowing, and of avoiding the
- to which it is sometimes liable. The Scotch banking
system is also better fitted for an example, both as it was the
one directly presented to the observation of Adam Smith, and
308 APPENDIX
from which, accordingly, his ideas on the subject seem to be
chiefly taken, and because it is not directly connected with
the issue of government paper, or with the passage of coin or
bullion from country to country.
Banks in Scotland are both what are termed banks of
deposit, and of circulation. They are the receivers and trans-
ferrers of the money, or what is equivalent of the capital
of others, and they are issuers of paper money of their own.
Their business is confined to what is the proper occupation of
bankers, transactions springing from the exchanges effected
through the medium of credit. They avoid, therefore, to
grant loans, unless for the purpose of facilitating exchanges.
Previously, however, to examining the operation of the system,
it may be well to direct our attention to the circumstances
of the parties with whom bankers everywhere have to deal.
When, in consequence of the business of banking being
established on a sure basis, in any community, the system of
credit comes extensively to prevail, the owners of the whole
stock of the society are divided into two classes, the one
consisting of those having in their possession a greater stock
of instruments than what actually belongs to them, the other
having a less stock than what belongs to them. The larger
proportion of the owners of stock, belong sometimes to the
one, sometimes to the other class, but the circumstances of
many place them permanently in the one or the other.
Individuals engaged in the forming, transporting, and ex-
changing of instruments the farmers, manufacturers, and
merchants of the community have occasion to employ in
their different businesses, sometimes a larger, sometimes a
smaller stock of instruments or capital. At one time, for
example, the state of the land the farmer cultivates, requires
a great outlay for seed-corn, for tilling, and manuring it and
for wages paid to laborers. At another time the returns from
it in the shape of grain, fat cattle, and other instruments and
commodities are proportionally great. At the former period
the farmer may not have a sufficient stock of his own, and
may wish to borrow certain instruments [or rather, the means
to purchase them], at the latter he is in a condition to lend.
OF BANKING 309
In a similar manner, the fluctuations of business render a
merchant sometimes a borrower, sometimes a lender. For
example, two merchants in Great Britain are engaged in the
timber trade, the one in that carried on with Prussia, the other
in that with Canada. A change takes place in the business,
from the duty on Prussian timber being lessened. The
Canadian timber trade being thus no longer profitable, the
merchant whose capital [funds] was embarked in it, with-
draws it from that trade. He employs a portion in an
experimental adventure to Prussia, but the larger part he has
no immediate use for, and is, therefore, in a condition to lend
to others. On the other hand, the merchant who had been
accustomed to trade to Prussia, knowing the details of that
business, and having a correspondence established there, is
able to employ with advantage a much larger capital than he
possesses. He wishes to borrow instruments, that is, com-
modities to export to Prussia, and to have the use of ships for
the double transport. Fluctuations, such as these, and in-
numerable others, occasion continual variations in the stock
which every merchant, or other individual engaged in any
sort of business, is capable of employing with advantage.
Sometimes, therefore, the business of every one is expanded
much farther than his own stock would permit, at other times
it is contracted into so narrow limits, as not to give employ-
ment to the whole of it.
Again, in every society there are many individuals who
cannot themselves employ the instruments they own. A
merchant, for example, dies, leaving a large stock of instru-
ments of one sort or other to his widow, and young children.
Tln-se they cannot employ. They must either convert them
into cash, which, placing in security, they may gradually ex-
priul as their occasions require, or they must lend them to
others who will pay for their use. On the one hand, young
men of ability, who have been bred to any business, although,
perhaps, they may have very little or no capital, may yet be able
to put iiistruiiu-nts with which they may be entrusted, to so
active use, that they may yield more than tin- <>nlmur\ returns,
and so, after paying for the usual profits, may leave a consider-
surplus as tin- reward of their exertions.
310 APPENDIX
The Scotch system of banking seems well calculated for
admitting the easy passage of individuals from the one to
the other class. Its distinguishing characteristic is that
the banker allows interest on all sums deposited, from the
moment of deposit, and that, on sufficient security, he is
always ready to grant the loan of as small, or as large an
amount, as may be required. When he lends to individuals,
by discounting bills, or by what are termed bank credits, he
becomes the real owner of a proportional amount of the stock
of instruments they hold, and in this way may be said to be
the owner of a part of the general stock of instruments of
those dealing with him, equal to the amount of what he has
lent. In reality, however, it is not altogether he who owns
them, but rather they who have given him the larger part of
his funds in the shape of deposits. These have all come to him
with money in the form of coin, of paper money of other
banks, or of his own money, or of an order for his own money,
and in place of it have been content with a pledge that it shall
be returned on demand, and that in the interim interest will
be allowed on it. By this arrangement the banker, in effect,
transfers to them a portion of his claims on the instruments
held by those who are debtors to him, and part of his right to
a portion of the returns made by them. Thus, while the
merchant formerly trading to Canada, instead of employing
the money he receives for sales of his existing stock of timber
in purchasing other goods, and in freighting other ships for
that market, pays it into the bank, the merchant trading to
Prussia is drawing money out of the bank, for the purpose of
extending his trade with Prussia. The effect produced is, in
so far, similar to that which would have resulted from the
Canadian trader lending part of his capital [directly] to the
trader to the Baltic. It differs from such a transaction, how-
ever, in three respects : 1st. These two individuals might be
unknown to each other, and might have no means of ascertain-
ing their respective plans ; 2d. The merchant trading to Canada
would probably have either less or more spare funds, than the
merchant trading to Prussia required ; 3rd. He might, also,
probably have occasion to call for them, for his own purposes,
at a time when it might be inconvenient, or impossible, for the
OF BANKING 311
other to replace them. The banker, on the contrary, is always
ready to receive or to lend.
Throughout all the occupations carried on by the different
members of the community, similar circumstances occur. One
tradesman, or mechanic, is laying by funds for building a
dwelling house, another is expending all the funds he has laid
by, and, perhaps, borrowing a little more, for the purpose
of finishing a dwelling house. While the farmer is depositing
in the bank some part of the proceeds of his sales of grain and
cattle, the corn merchant and the butcher are drawing funds
from the bank, for the purpose of assisting them to purchase
these commodities.
It will thus be found, that the person making the deposit, is
one who has just transferred to others, who can employ them
at the moment to more advantage than he, some instruments
which he held, and that in return he receives a claim to that
amount, on the funds [assets] of the bank, and of interest on it
till paid. These funds, [assets] however, consist chiefly of
debts owing to the bank by the community at large, and that
interest is drawn from the profits arising from the stock of
in-truments effectively owned by the bank, and lent by it to
the individuals with whom it deals. Hence the person making
th- drjioMt is one having transferred a part of his stock of
i uments to an individual, and receiving in lieu of it a share
of the claim of the bank, on the general stock of instruments
owned by those indebted to it. In this way the bank may be
considered as a broker negotiating between those, the condition
of whose business requires them to borrow, and those, the
condition of whose business disposes them to lend, and general-
ixing the transactions of both. It is not by any means,
however, only a broker. Besides the fluctuating deposits, it
has a large capital of its own embarked in the business. This
i'-ily owned by individuals whose circumstances place
them permanently in the class of lenders, persons retired, or
n^ from active business, or widows, etc., who, selling off
their stock, employ their funds in this manner.
This system probably yields as many advantages as any
hitherto discovered, and avoids, as well as may be, the chief
to which the business of banking is subject.
312 APPENDIX
1. By means of it all possible exchanges are made at the
least expense ; and with the greatest facility. Every person
is prompted to sell because the money he receives yields an
immediate return. Every person having it in his power to
turn any commodity to good account, has the means afforded
him of obtaining possession of it.
2. The capital [funds] which bankers own, or hold, is
liable to be embarked and lost by them in imprudent specula-
tions ; or, through partiality, to be lent to a few individuals
who may squander it in the same manner. This seems to
be best guarded against by there being many stock holders,
and a large capital. In the banks to which we refer, this is
generally, though not always the case.
The knowledge which the banker acquires, by means of the
system of bank credits, of the state of the affairs of those dealing
with him, is probably somewhat greater than can be obtained
by the mere discount of bills. It gives him the sort of infor-
mation, which one would acquire of the affairs of another, by
having the care of his purse. I believe, also, that persons
dealing with the Scotch bankers, are somewhat more strongly
excited than those dealing with other bankers, to vigilance in
providing funds to meet positive engagements with them, as
the slightest failure of any individual in any such transaction,
occasions his sureties being called on to pay up his cash
account, ruins his credit, and renders it impossible for him to
continue his business. It is probable, therefore, that this
system has considerable efficiency in checking rash and impru-
dent speculations, by withholding funds from those most likely
to run into them.
3. The large amount of stock subscribed, and the subscribers
being severally responsible to the amount of all the property
they possess, give so great confidence in the stability of the
banks, that nothing but some very great revolution in the
affairs of the society, or some great convulsion in the money
market, would be sufficient to shake it. Owing to the system
pursued, the possibility of any great disturbance of the money
market is prevented. This forms the fourth circumstance to
be noted.
4. I have observed in the preceding part, that, when any
OF BANKING 313
reverse happens to the trade of a community, the diminution
of sales which is the consequence of it, while it renders
it necessary for those, whose business, as compared with their
capital [ready money], is much expanded, to borrow money
to meet the engagements which they have entered into, gives
a redundancy of money to those whose business, as compared
with their capital [ready money], is small, and who have
contracted to receive a great amount of money, and to pay
only a small amount.
According to the system of banking which prevails in Eng-
land, and in most countries, all individuals in the latter class
will have a greater or less amount of cash lying by them
useless. They are afraid to lend it, owing to the prevailing
embarrassments, and, where the banker allows no interest on
money deposited with him, they have no particular motive
t<> induce them to lodge it in any bank. But, when a person
intends to keep money lying by him, he will be apt to prefer
coin, to paper, the former is the securest of any sort of pro-
perty, the latter may possibly be insecure. He will more
especially be inclined to prefer the former, if he have the
least suspicion of the stability of the bank issuing the paper.
It is thus that, at such seasons, what are called runs upon
particular banks, are very apt to arise, and both to bring ruin
on the bank, and increase the general embarrassment. But
wherever, as in Scotland, the banker allows interest on all
sums deposited, no one thinks of keeping money by him. The
very classes too, it may be remarked, who are most apt to
commence these runs, petty shop-keepers and tradesmen,
have in Scotland, in general, bank credits, and are continually
striving to put as much money into the bank with which they
deal, as the necessity of their business will permit. In Scot-
land, therefore, the banks, owing greatly, no doubt, to the
guarantee of a very large capital prudently managed, but,
also, as I conceive, in no inconsiderable degree, to the tendency
of the system to bring into them all the spare funds of the
society in the shape of deposits, have not for fifty years been
exposed to any dangers or inconveniences of the sort, and in
tip midst of the severest commercial distress, and the ruin of
tli Kinking rstaUishments of the sister kingdom, have always
314 APPENDIX
maintained their course steadily, and been able to apply the
resources of the community to carry those through the crises,
whose embarrassments had arisen, not from the bankrupt
state of their affairs, but from the pressure of the times. 1
5. Banks have very often issued an overabundant supply
of their particular money, and it has been depreciated. An
effectual remedy for this, one would be inclined to conceive,
would be their being obliged to convert it, on demand, into
gold or silver. Many persons, however, do not think that
this is sufficient, and believe, that, notwithstanding, an over
issue may take place. If so, the Scotch system, by its ten-
dency to return on the bank all money not in immediate
use would seem to be a pretty effective check on the occur-
rence of such an evil.
Banking may be fitly described, as a generalization of indi-
vidual credit transactions. Every system of banking general-
izes them to a greater or less extent. The more complete the
generalization, the more completely does the system perform
its functions, and the nearer it comes to the perfection of
art. The Scotch system, viewed as an art of this sort, seems
to discharge its function well. Whatever spare capital [funds]
the turns of business may there throw into any individuals
hand, he finds it for his advantage to place in the bank ; what-
ever additional capital [funds] they may require of him, he
easily procures from the bank. The facility with which it
operates may be best seen, by contrasting it with the English
system.
In England, an individual dealing with a banker, is
expected to leave in his hands an amount of capital [funds]
as a deposit, for which he receives no interest. It is from this
that the profit of the banker is derived. When, therefore,
a person in the course of business has a greater portion than
usual of unemployed capital [funds], he finds there no im-
mediate advantage in placing it in the banker's hands. He,
therefore, probably, will not place it there so promptly, as he
would in Scotland. The effect of this tardiness is more
especially felt at those critical periods to which I have referred
1 See the correspondence between Lord Liverpool and the Chancellor of the
Exchequer and the Bank of England, in 1826, in Hansard's Debates.
OF BANKING 315
in the preceding part, when, in consequence of a general
decrease of the amount of sales, persons whose means [affairs]
have been most expanded, are under the necessity of borrow-
ing to a larger extent than they had anticipated. If, on such
occasions, they whose business has been contracted within
narrower limits than their capitals [means] would have ad-
mitted, and who, in consequence of avoiding to purchase, have
a larger surplus capital [purchasing power] than usual in their
hands in the shape of money, retain it there, instead of placing
it in the bank, the banker is restrained from making the
advances he otherwise would, and a violent check is given to
the operation of the credit system, sufficient to give a begin-
ning to convulsions more extensively deranging it.
This system, also, as compared with the English, adjusts
itself with greater precision to the actual circumstances of the
two great classes of the community, the lenders and borrowers,
to whose transactions it serves as the instrument. When, in
consequence either of the progress of accumulation, or of
misfortunes befalling the industry of the country, instruments
are placed in more slowly returning orders, and profits fall,
borrowers should pay less, and lenders receive less, for the
use of capital. And reversely, when profits rise, more should
be paid by the one class, and more received by the other.
This is naturally brought about where a certain rate is paid
for funds deposited, as well as for those drawn. Under such
a system the banker cannot afford to have any capital [any
money beyond the necessary reserve] lying dormant. He
must, therefore, preserve the proper proportion between the
funds deposited in his hands, and those drawn out of his
h;u i Is. When the former become too great, which will be the
case when trade is dull, he lowers the rate of interest which
he charges his customers, and, also, that which he gives them,
and thus diminishes the amount deposited, and increases that
1 ra \vn. He does just the reverse and produces directly opposite
effects, when trade becomes more lively, and profits rise. In
England, on the contrary, the state of trade has no direct effect
on the interest which bankers charge, and the due proportion
between borrowers and lenders is not so well maintained. 1
1 Jopliu on Currency, p. 108.
316 APPENDIX
The advantages derived from any system become apparent,
by considering the consequences that would result from its
being abolished, or from its actions being impeded. On this
account I shall state three hypothetical cases, with regard to
the system which we are now considering, as an example of
the effects of banking in general.
In the year 1826 it was proposed in the British Parliament,
to enact a law putting a stop to the circulation of one pound
bank notes, the chief money of Scotland. The bankers main-
tained that in this case they would no longer carry on
business. Let us suppose, that the proposal had been adopted,
and the effect had really been utterly to abolish the business
of banking in that country, and unless in barter, to make
all buying and selling to be transacted in coin, either in ready
cash, or in cash paid when the period, to which credit had
been limited, expired.
In considering the effects of such a change, we may divide
all transactions now taking place in Scotland, and concerned
in the question, into those effected by bank bills, or as they are
termed, bank notes, and those effected by checks on some bank.
1. Of those now effected by bank bills, of which the
majority are what are called one pound notes, [it may be said
that without these bills,] every purchaser, that is, every person
in business, would be obliged to have continually lying by
him, to answer occasional demands, a certain sum [of actual
money] proportional to the extent of his business, and when
preparing for some extraordinary occasion, for a length of
time previous he would be collecting and hoarding up funds
sufficient for the purchase or purchases he intended making.
A large part of the money of the country, would, therefore, be
constantly lying idle, doing nothing, but waiting for something
to do. Let us suppose that we are in Scotland at the present
moment, and that bank notes being able to hear and answer
questions, we take at random a parcel of one pound notes, and
interrogate them as to what their employment is, and how
they discharge it. They would doubtless answer: " the service
we render is to pass from hand to hand, for the purpose of
making exchanges." " Do you ever lie idle for any time ? "
" No. Every one that gets hold of us immediately passes us
OF BANKING 317
to some other person, either to pay some debt, or to make
some purchase, or if not, carries us to the banker, who sets us
out again on the same round. Sometimes, indeed, we get
a few days, or a few weeks rest, in the desk of a small country
dealer, or some such person, who has to wait that time,
perhaps, before he can collect a dozen of us to send to the
bank, but this is seldom, and as it were by chance." Let now
the banks be done away with, and, instead of bank notes, let
us have to ask the same questions of sovereigns. Their
answer would be, "we are employed in the service of people
who collect us for the purpose of buying some thing, or things,
with us, when the chance presents itself. We are lying
continually idle, therefore, for longer or shorter intervals,
waiting till this chance cast up. Sometimes we are collected
in money bags for weeks, sometimes for months, and unless
when we get into the hands of very necessitous persons, we
< a* h of us expect to be put by in some place of security, along
with others of our brethren, and with them to wait the chance
of being called out to effect some exchange, after which we
again return for a time to inactivity."
What in the supposed cases must be true of a particular set
of bank notes, or a particular set of sovereigns, would be true
of all bank notes, and of all sovereigns, and hence the amount
of exchanges effected in any particular year, by means of
three and a half millions of bank notes (about the present
circulation of Scotland), must be far greater than would be
effected in the same time, under the suppositions we have
made, by three and a half millions of sovereigns. The latter
con Id not both be effecting exchanges, and lying idle.
2. But, besides the exchanges made by means of bank notes,
a great amount of exchanges are effected by orders or
checks on the banker. Were there no banking systnii there
in existence, these, also, would have to be effected by the
UK-ilium of money, either ready money, or money paid after a
certain tiiiM.-, but certainly, in some way or other, through the
instrumentality of money. There would require, then, to be
a farther provision of sovereigns, to effect the large amount
of exchanges now managed by a few strokes of the pen of
a banker's clerk.
318 APPENDIX
What would be the addition which these two circumstances
would render it necessary to make to the circulating medium,
in order to bring sovereigns to approximate in efficiency to
the bank notes, the place of which they occupied, might be
difficult to determine. The proportion of the one to the other,
might be as 3 to 2, as 4 to 2, as 6 to 2, or as 8 to 2, or perhaps
still higher; it is very certain, however, that the one would
be much greater than the other. After all, it would only be
an approximation. As what will happen can only be con-
jectured, not known, every person engaged in business would
occasionally err in his calculations, and would sometimes have
commodities offered him which he would wish to purchase,
but for want of cash would be unable to purchase. The two
circumstances referred to, the additional expense of exchanges,
consequent to the additional money [specie] necessary to effect
[any given amount of] them, and the diminution of exchanges
consequent to the want of the money [conventional means
of payment] necessary to effect them [expeditiously], united,
would mark the direct loss the community sustained by the
abolition of the banking system. The indirect loss would
arise from the check given to the accumulative principle, by
the diminished quickness of return of instruments by what
would be termed the dullness of trade and the diminished
accumulation of stock consequent to it.
But such a supposition as that we have made, could not
possibly come to be a reality. When the art of banking has
once been introduced into a country, the advantages resulting
from it, are too great to admit of its being altogether abolished.
There will always be some generalization of credit transac-
tions, some recognized mode of transferring from hand to
hand, promises to pay, made by one individual to another.
The enactments of the legislator may act on the art so as to
make it more or less effective, but they cannot prevent the
practice of it. I shall, therefore, make another supposition,
and assume that the measure proposed having been adopted,
sovereigns took the place of bank notes, and that, notwith-
standing, the banks continued their operations as before.
In this case the banks, by the supposition, giving sovereigns
out, and receiving them again, in the same manner as they
OF BANKING 319
had their own notes, the community in general would have
been sensible of no other alteration but that of handling gold
instead of paper, and they would have had the advantage of
some additional security against the danger of the failure of
the banks, and against disorders consequent on drains of gold
from abroad. But this supposition, also, is inadmissible. The
diminution of the paper money issued by the bankers, would
have proportionably diminished their profits. The amount of
one pound bank notes there circulating, being something over
two millions, their circulation would probably have been
curtailed by the measure by nearly two millions. This at five
per cent, is not much short of half of what they make by
the whole funds deposited in their hands, which have been
estimated at about twenty millions, and on which they gain
one per cent., the difference between what they charge those
who borrow from them, and which they give those who lend
to them. Their profits must, therefore, have been greatly
diminished by the measure, and unless we suppose that bankers
in Scotland have more than the ordinary profits of stock,
which, where there is so active a competition, cannot well be,
capital would have been withdrawn from the business, 1 or the
business would have undergone a change. It is probable that
the latter circumstance would have happened. The banks
would either have made more than one per cent, difference
between what they allowed and what they charged for money,
or, as is more likely, they would have changed the system of
bank credits. The business of the small dealers, tradesmen
and farmers, who have credit with the banks, is transacted
mostly by one pound notes. Bank bills exceeding five pounds
rarely pass into their hands. Under the supposition, there-
>re, this class would have circulated but very little of the
inker's paper; he, consequently, would have declined grant-
them credit, in this way, and confined his credits of tins
1 It may be observed, that there is a great difference between Great Britain
an<l the Unit-d States in this respect, because in Great Britain the govern-
ment funds [debts] afford an advantageous investment for the capitals of in-
dividuals, widows, etc., who in this continent are under a sort of necessity of
IT it in bunks. In this, and in many other respects, as in the distance
from other nations, and the increased difficulty in replenishing the stock of
bullion when exhausted, the situation of the two countries is very different.
320 APPENDIX
sort to merchants and others, whose transactions being large,
made them the circulators of the paper to the issue of which
he was confined, and whose business, consequently, would have
been more profitable to him. The facility of exchange among
the small dealers would have been greatly abridged, and
through it, that among the whole community would have
been somewhat lessened. The real amount of loss that would
have been in consequence sustained, it is not necessary to our
purpose to attempt to fix. Almost all persons practically
acquainted with the business of the country, believed that it
would have been very considerable, and, in consequence of
their urgent representation, the measure in contemplation was
abandoned. 1
If I have succeeded in placing clearly before the reader my
ideas concerning this somewhat intricate subject, he will, I
think, perceive, that there exists an essential difference
between the nature and operation of the money of the
banker, and that of other money.
In communities where the art of banking has no exist-
ence, money may be defined to be a commodity, of which
every person in the habit of making [many] changes, keeps
a [considerable] supply by him, for the purpose of effecting
them.
In a community, again, where the art of banking has been
established, as in the instance of Scotland, if we confine our
attention to those who have dealings with the banker, the
money he issues 2 may be fitly described as counters which he
gives them for the purpose of arranging their transactions
with one another, and which they return to him immediately
they are arranged, that they may be rated on his books
1 [Rae neglects to mention one circumstance much emphasized by recent
writers, that is, that the one-pound note in Scotland is quite necessary to
enable the banks to maintain their extensive system of branches, which carry
reliable banking facilities even into the smallest hamlets. The small bank-
note furnishes a cheap " till-money," without which branch banking on any
large scale is too expensive.]
2 [That is, the money which he pays out and receives. " Bank money " in
this paragraph is not "banker's money," that is, bank credit currency which
we ordinarily speak of as being " issued " ; it is actual money, specie, as used
in connection with a system of banking. See below.]
OF BANKING 321
according to the place they occupy as borrowers of part, or as
owners of part, of the general funds which he holds. An in-
dividual who has a deposit in a bank draws from it, we shall
say, the sum of 1,000, and lessens by that amount the
deposits in the bank, and for which it has to pay interest.
But, of course, he intends to put it to some use, that is, to
make some purchase or purchases with it, or pay for some
before made. The person or persons to whom, for this pur-
he transfers it, by the supposition dealers with the bank
if they have no immediate use for it, will directly carry it to
tin- bank, and then the general deposits and loans of the bank
will be the same as before, but the bank accounts of the parti-
cular depositors and borrowers engaged in the transaction will
have suffered an alteration. If, on the other hand, any of
those individuals, among whom the 1,000 is distributed, or
all of them, have use for the sums they receive, that can only
be to make some immediate purchases, or to pay for some
before made. In this way, after passing through a less or
greater number of hands, the 1,000 the banker has issued
finds its way back to him, and, as far as his business is con-
e-rued, he is exactly in the same situation as before he issued
it. The situation of the person who took out the money, and
that of them who return it, is altered. One holds a greater
ruments, and the debtor side of his bank account
i> proportionally greater, the others hold a less stock, and the
: i t side of their bank accounts are proportionably greater.
The former has transferred a part of his claim on the general
stock of instruments, and has in lieu of it the possession of
some particular instrument or instruments, and the latter
have done the reverse. The bank money, therefore, has
merely served the place of counters, by aid of which the
>mers of the bank settle their transactions, and finally
nnine their relations to its stock. During the time these
inactions were in progress, there was a proportional
diminution in the amount of interest which the bank had
to pay its customers, and, if the counters it gave them were
merely pieces of paper costing it little or nothing, thi^
i'l !< so much clear gain to it; if they were gold, tin
<>curing them would exactly Imlawv th< -a in.
I
322 APPENDIX
If there be a plurality of banks, as the bankers in that case
exchange their notes with one another, the series of transac-
tions produced are substantially the same, unless in so far
as the business of one bank may be extending, that of another
contracting, a circumstance which is generally of little
moment to the community.
It is only when the banker's money passes out of the range
of those having transactions with him, that it comes to hold
the place of other money. While it is in their hands, it
performs the office that other money would, and in this
respect, if it be paper money, he gains an advantage not
directly springing from the exchanges managed by his funds.
Individuals, however, who do not deal with any bank, where
banking is properly managed, are persons whose affairs do
not require them to keep [much] money by them, and by the
agency of both classes, it is, therefore, preserved in continual
motion and employment.
I have entered into a longer detail on this subject than
I had intended, from my desire to make apparent the distinc-
tion stated above, in regard to the superior efficiency of
the money which the banker puts into circulation, 1 whether
paper or gold, as compared with that which exists where the
art of banking is unknown, and where there is either no
generalization, or an imperfect generalization of transactions
performed through the medium of credit.
It will be seen, that the view I have attempted to give
of the whole subject of exchange, is quite opposed to that
exhibited in the Wealth of Nations. Adam Smith sets out
from exchange, and makes it, and the division of labor conse-
quent on it, the source of stock, whereas I have endeavored to
show that exchange is the result of the increase of stock, and
subsequent division of employments, that the necessity for its
existence is a circumstance retarding the increase of stock,
and that the benefits of the art of banking spring from the
facility which that art gives to the process.
1 [Apparently John Stuart Mill followed Rae in that passage of his Principles
(Bk. III. c. III. sec. 3), where he speaks of the " efficiency of money " as
an expression in some degree preferable to "rapidity of circulation."]
OF BANKING 323
As exchange may be said to be the commencement of Adam
Smith's system, and as money is the instrument of exchange,
he assumes it as a first principle, that while the exchanges
remain the same, the same amount of money is necessary to
transact them. Bank paper, he, therefore, concludes, will
exactly equal in nominal value the specie circulated before its
issue. If it exceed this amount, it will return upon the bank,
if it fall short of it, the vacancy will be filled by specie. This
principle, which Adam Smith, as is observed by Mr. Say, has
introduced into speculations on this subject, is thus epitomized
by the latter author :
" Taking it for granted, then, that the specie, remaining in
circulation within the community, is limited by the national
demand for circulating medium ; if any expedient can be
d-' vised, for substituting bank notes in place of half the
specie, or the commodity, money, there will evidently be a
superabundance of metal money, and that superabundance
must be followed by a diminution of its relative value. But
as such diminution in one place by no means implies a con-
temporaneous diminution in other places, where the expedi-
ent of bank notes is not resorted to, and where, consequently, no
such superabundance of the commodity, money, exists, money
naturally resorts thither, and is attracted to the spot where it
bears the highest relative value, or is exchangeable for the
largest quantity of other goods ; in other words, it flows to
markets where commodities are cheapest, and is replaced
1 y goods, of value equal to the money exported." l
He goes. on to prove that the national capital must be
augmented by the specie exported, and fixes the utmost quan-
t it y l>y which it can so be increased, at one tenth of the annual
product or revenue of the nation.
Now I maintain, that to effect the same transactions, it
requires far less banker's money, whether that money be paper
or specie, than was required of the money in existence before
the establishment of banks, the celerity of motion making
up for the deficiencies of quantity; that what Adam Smith
asserts concerning the comparative efficiency of the two kinds
ioney circulated by consumers and dealers, holds true of
Sy, B. I. c. XXII. Am. edit. Vol. I. p. 246.
324 APPENDIX
that money [even though it be specie alone] of which the bank
forms the centre of circulation, as compared with that, which,
where there are no banks, circulates slowly and after intervals
of inactivity between dealer and dealer; that the one by
"a more rapid circulation, serves as the instrument of many
more purchases than the other"; and, consequently, that if the
same number of transactions only takes place after the estab-
lishment of banks, as before their introduction, then much
less money will be necessary, and if the same money be circu-
lated, the fact indicates, that a great addition has been made
to the business transacted, and still more if the money
circulated exceeds that formerly circulated. It is this last
event, that, I conceive, generally takes place. In this, as in
other instances of real improvements, the [ultimate] effect is
contrary to what might have been anticipated, the greater
facility in performing the operation bringing so much greater
a compass of materials within its reach, that the occupation
given to the art, instead of diminishing, increases, and by the
subdivision of employments, and abandonment of barter, money
comes to be so much more used as an instrument of exchange,
that on the whole, the quantity of it employed is augmented,
in the same way, as when a road is much improved, though
one horse may be sufficient to transport what three did before,
yet the commodities transported so increase, that there are,
notwithstanding, thrice the number of horses employed. 1 This
is especially the case in new countries, where, from causes
already specified, money before the existence of banks is
excessively scarce.
If the reader have still any doubts on the subject, he may, I
conceive, satisfy himself of the accuracy of this view, by refer-
ence to the pages of the Wealth of Nations itself. Adam
Smith, by no means, limits the advantages of banking as
practised in Scotland, to the substitution of paper for specie,
and the direct fictitious capital thus created. On the contrary,
he thinks that every person dealing with the banker, that is,
1 [This theory of displacement and expansion respecting employment for
actual money in a community making extensive use of banks, may be further
developed. See the article on the "Distribution of Money," by Prof.
O. M. W. Sprague, in the Quarterly Journal of Economics, for August, 1904.]
OF BANKING 325
every person engaged in business, derives individually very
great advantages from the system. These advantages are re-
solvable into the circumstance, that every such person is free
from the necessity of keeping any money by him. Whatever
demands are made on him he answers by means of his cash
credit, or by discounting a bill, or bills. In this way " partly
by the conveniency of discounting bills, and partly by that of
cash accounts, the creditable traders of the country are dis-
pensed from the necessity of keeping any part of their stock
by them unemployed, and in ready money, for answering
occasional demands." l Now it is certainly very remarkable,
that it did not strike Adam Smith, that if all the creditable
dealers in the community, that is, the great majority of those
who before the establishment of banks would have kept money
l>y them, will by the facilities given by the art, be dispensed
with the necessity of doing so, and can still carry on equally
extensive transactions, the money requisite to transact the
general business of the country must be diminished by that
amount. If, for example, according to the estimate he makes,
the specie in circulation in Scotland before the introduction of
banking was about one million sterling, after the establish-
ment of that art, had the exchanges effected remained the
same, a much less sum than one million would have been
sufficient to perform them ; for all that money would have
been useless which it had before been necessary to keep in the
coffers of the different dealers, and which formed the great
mass of the then circulating medium, or rather of the medium
[half circulating and half stagnating] through the interven-
<>f which exchanges were transacted. If, then, a million
had been still employed, if a million of the banker's paper
had superseded a million of coin, it would have indicated,
as I have stated above, a great increase in the transfers
ted, and would have shown, either " that a larger compass
atorials had been brought within reach of the accumulative
principle, or that employments had been more subdivided, or
that both circumstances had occurred."
According to Adam Smith, the Iwmk saves each dealer from
keeping l.y him in ready money, all that amount which it
1 Book II. c. II.
326 APPENDIX
advances him by means of the cash account it opens with him,
or by discounting the bills he presents. What in this way,
then, all the banks advance to all the dealers, deducting from
it the amount of paper circulated, must be so much which
they save them from being obliged to keep by them. But
this is the employment to which, where banking is properly
conducted, bankers devote their whole funds, and by this mode
of reckoning, the saving effected by them in Scotland might
be made to appear equal to thirty millions of specie. Were
banking, however, as a distinct business, totally abolished in
that country, the event certainly would not bring into it
thirty millions of specie. The effects produced by such an
event would consist in a diminution of the number of ex-
changes, and, consequently, of the division and subdivision of
employments, and of the capacity given to materials ; [and
also the bringing about of] the transaction of many exchanges
by barter, and the generalization of a large amount of them
by transfers from hand to hand. Specie would only come in,
in sufficient abundance to make up the balance. 1
To conclude ; in my opinion the notion from which Adam
Smith sets out, and which, since his time, has kept possession
of all speculations on this subject, and been the foundation of
many important practical measures, 2 is essentially erroneous.
According to him, there is always a certain sum of money
necessary to carry on the transactions of every society, the
amount of which is proportioned to the transactions carried
on. This is termed the circulating medium, and, whether it
be bank paper, or specie circulated by the banker, or coin used
for the purposes of exchange where there is no bank, it is
reckoned always in quantity proportioned to the transactions
carried on. On the contrary, it seems to me, that when once
a bank is established in any community, the money circulated
1 [Of course these last statements are exaggerated. Not the same amount of
business, to be sure, but something like the same amount would still be trans-
acted on a lower range of prices. But it is nevertheless true that one effect of
the supposed occurrence would be to introduce barter to some extent, along a
margin of the use of money, where barter did not before exist.]
2 As for instance, the contraction of issues by the bank of England in 1826,
(the immediate cause of the disasters of that year,) and the legislative enact-
ments on British currency for the last twenty years.
OF BANKING 327
among those who are its customers, serves merely the purpose
of counters for arranging their transactions, performing the
same part as a multiplicity of checks, operating upon their
several accounts, might accomplish. It is not a fund kept for
making exchanges, but an instrument applied for [and
brought into use] at the time exchanges are to be made, and
operating upon the real fund kept for that purpose, viz., the
claim which the bank has on the general stock of the com-
munity, the specie deposited in its vaults, and the other items
making up its capital [assets], which, like the coin in the
old deposit banks of Italy and Holland, constitute that part of
the general stock, really performing the function of exchange.
If this be the case, it follows that the more perfect as an
art banking becomes, the less, oilier circumstances being equal,
is the amount of the circulating medium required, and the
greater the saving to the community. It also follows, that
a system of banking, considered merely as a means of trans-
acting exchanges taking place in the ordinary course of affairs
within the community, approaches nearest to the excellence
of art, when it most effectually secures its funds from being
squandered, and when the counters employed by it in its
operations, issue from it, pass through the hands of its
customers, and find their way back to it most easily and
quickly. The former circumstance diminishes the risk of loss
from this mode of effecting exchange, the latter diminishes the
expense of it.
It may farther be observed that the popular notion, that
the advantages of banking are limited to the substitution of
paper for specie, and the creation to that amount of a fictitious
capital is altogether erroneous. The advantages derived from
this source are rather contingent, than essential. They fall
chi'-fly to the banker, and, as he may be considered as a
broker having the care of the funds of certain of the lenders
of the community, for the purpose of distributing them among
th borrowers, and having to be paid for the trouble, the
expense, and the risk of loss attending his business, this mode
>t paying him may be the most convenient that can be
devised The real advantage however of the art,'arises from
its [efficient] application of the floating loans [that is, the
328 APPENDIX
funds possibly available for making loans] of the society to
the purposes of exchange ; and, instead of the paper money
issued being the cause and the measure of the good derived
from it, the less the quantity of such money, in proportion to
the business transacted with it [that is, the greater the
amount of transfer of credits on the books of the bank in place
of issue of notes], the smaller the expense of the business of
exchange to the trading community, and the greater the
benefits the banker bestows on it. And, again ; in cases where
bank paper makes the general currency, instead of the partial
or total abolition of banking, only requiring the substitution
of a quantity of specie equal to the paper withdrawn from
circulation, it would, in proportion, as it were partial or total,
compel the substitution of a much larger quantity of specie, or
a proportional diminution of the exchanges before transacted ;
and, in either case, would place the instruments belonging
to the society in more slowly returning orders, lessen the
amount of materials within reach of the accumulative prin-
ciple, and eventually occasion a proportional diminution of the
national stock.
ARTICLE V.
OF THE WEALTH OF NATIONS AS A BRANCH OF THE
PHILOSOPHY OF INDUCTION.
[OF THE SPIRIT AND METHOD OF SCIENCE.]
IT will be perceived that there is an essential difference between
the modes of investigation which I have followed in the pre-
ceding pages, and those guiding the speculations of the celebrated
philosopher, from whose opinions I venture to dissent. Where
the principles of investigation are different, the conclusions
arrived at can hardly agree ; and I scarce think, therefore, that
I should assist the reader in forming an opinion on the sub-
ject, by entering into a particular discussion of the points in
which we are at variance. The views I have endeavored to
unfold must, in so far, stand alone.
It so happens, however, that concerning the principles of
investigation themselves, there is a common standard to which
the disciples of Adam Smith refer, and on the rules drawn
from which, I also conceive, the determination of the questions
debated must ultimately rest. Adam Smith has been said to
have made political economy a science of experiment, a branch
of the inductive philosophy. 1 Now, I apprehend, that the
spirit of the philosophy of the author of the Wealth of Nations
was completely opposed to the inductive philosophy the
philosophy of Bacon, and that he never intended that that
work should be received as if established on it. If the reader
1 Say's Introduction and note on Storch, , i I.
330 APPENDIX
agree with me, he will probably consider that the whole dis-
cussion here, in a measure terminates. In placing before him
the reasons for my belief, I shall confine myself, as much as
possible, to transcribing the words of the Novum Organum, on
the one side, and those of Adam Smith, in some of his specula-
tions, on the other.
Lord Bacon affirms, that there always have been, and must
be, two sorts of philosophy the popular, and the inductive ;
or, as they might perhaps be denominated, the philosophy of
system, and of science. In the one, the mind explains natural
phenomena according to its preconceived notions, in the other,
it traces out, by a careful interpretation, the real connexions
between them. 1 The former will always be the more popular,
1 " Nos siquidem de deturbanda ea, quae nuiic floret, philosophia, aut si quae
alia sit, aut erit, hac emendatior aut auctior, minime laboramus. Neque
enim officimus, quin philosophia ista recepta, et alise id genus, disputationes
alant, sermones ornent, ad professoria munera, et vitae civilis compendia, ad-
hibeantur, et valeant. Quin etiam aperte significamus, et declaramus, earn
quam nos adducimus philosophiam, ad istas res admodum utilem non futuram.
Non praesto est; neque in transitu capitur; neque ex praenotionibus intellectui
blanditur ; neque ad vulgi captum, nisi per utilitatem et effecta descendet.
Sint itaque (quod felix faustumque sit utrique parti) duae doctrinarum
emanationes, ac duae despensationes ; duae similiter contemplantium, sive
philosophantium tribus ac veluti cognationes ; atque illas neutiquam inter se
inimicae, aut alienee, sed foederatae, et mutuis auxiliis devinctae ; sit denique
alia scientias colendi, alia inveniendi ratio. Atque quibus prima potior et
acceptior est, ob festinationem, vel vitae civilis ratioues, vel quod illam alter-
am ob mentis infirmitatem capere et complecti non possint (id quod louge
plurimis accidere necesse est,) optamus, ut iis feliciter et ex voto succedat,
quod agunt ; atque ut quod sequuntur, teneant. Quod si cui mortalium cordi
et curae sit, non tantum inventis hserere atque iis uti, sed ad ulteriora pene-
trare ; atque non disputando adversarium, sed opere naturam vincere ;
denique, non belle et probabiliter opinari, sed certo et ostensive scire ; Atque
ut melius intelligamur, utque illud ipsum quod volumus ex nominibus im-
positis magis familiariter occurrat ; altera ratio, sive via, anticipatio mentis ;
altera, interpretatio natures, a nobis appellari consuevit." Prsef. II. Instaur.
" Utcunque enim varia sint genera politiarum, unicus est status scien-
tiarum, isque semper fuit et mansurus est popularis. Atque apud populum
plurimum vigent doctrinae, aut coutentiosse et pugnaces, aut speciosae et
inanes ; quales videlicet assensum aut illaqueant, aut demulcent." Praef.
Inst.
" Quinetiam significamus aperte, ea, quae nos adducimus, ad istas res non
multum idonea futura ; cum ad vulgi captum deduci omnino non possint, nisi
per effecta et opera tantum." Lib. I. c. xxviii.
OF SCIENCE VERSUS SYSTEM-BUILDING 331
and on account of its facility of explication, and its fitness for
the purposes of argument, will maintain its place in the dis-
cussion of all subjects of general interest ; while the latter
must be confined to a few, its spirit being difficult to seize,
above the grasp of the commonalty, and only to be com-
prehended by them in its effects.
It is not difficult to perceive the foundation on which each
of the two systems rests.
Necessity obliges men to attend to the phenomena around
them, to mark their actual successions, and to name them.
They have thus a store of general facts, and of regular expres-
sions for them. These, however, refer not to the laws of the
general system themselves, but to the phenomena or events, the
consequences of those laws.
Their farther discussion regarding them may be undertaken
tor the purpose either of explaining, or of investigating them.
If for the former, they will refer to principles already ad-
mitted ; that is, to known modes of succession. If for
the latter, they will search for the causes on which those
common successions proceed. An example will render this
plain.
In the earliest stages of society, and before speculation com-
menced, men would make some general observations concerning
the motions of the different bodies about them. They would
observe, for instance, that, unless prevented by some obstacle,
most bodies fall to the earth. Adopting this observation as a
general rule, when they saw one so falling, they would con-
ceive of the event as a usual or natural occurrence. A savage,
when, in traversing the forest, he sees a rotten branch break
off and fall to the ground, thinks of it as an event which
is a necessary consequence of its nature, and, if his language
furnished the expression, might say it was a natural motion in
it as a heavy body. Were he to see the same broken branch
moving rapidly through the air upwards, or horizontally, he
would conceive of it as not proceeding from its own nature,
but from some disturbing cause, and might call it a motion
produced by violence. He would observe, too, that some sub-
stances, as air, and what he calls fire, rise upwards. He would
so conclude, that all light bodies ascended. In the same
332 APPENDIX
manner, the heavenly bodies seem to him to have naturally a
circular motion.
Let us now suppose that the two sorts of philosophy : 1st.
the explanatory or systematic, and 2d. the inductive or scien-
tific, in pursuit of their respective objects, apply themselves to
the consideration of the complicated series of phenomena, con-
nected with sensible motions of all sorts.
As what is conceived to be already known requires no
explanation, the philosophy of system takes things which,
because familiar, are admitted as obvious, as the media for
explaining all other things. To do otherwise, were to under-
take a work foreign to its objects. In this way, under its
hands, the practical rules of the observer, become the specula-
tive principles of the philosopher. Motion is divided into
natural, and violent. Certain bodies have a natural tendency
downwards, others upwards, others to move in a circle. From
these principles, the whole phenomena are explained in a
plausible manner, and arranged in a systematic form. Such
was the plan of the philosophers of Greece, and such their
pseudo science of motion. It is evident, that however it
might systematize and explain facts already known, it could
not conduct to new truths. It could not lead farther than the
principles from which it set out, and these evidently embraced
not the laws of the general system of things, but only circum-
stances, the results of those laws.
The philosophy of induction has for its object the discovery
of truth. It seeks for the laws regulating the general system.
As it is the aim of the other to explain plausibly, its aim is to
investigate strictly. What, consequently, are to the one ulti-
mate principles, are to the other collections of facts, the
causes of which are to be inquired into. When, therefore,
this philosophy applied itself to the consideration of the
phenomena of motion, it pronounced the whole antecedent
system factitious and foreign to its objects, and commencing
their investigation sagaciously and diligently anew, it dis-
covered the real and simple laws regulating the various series
of these events. 1
1 Etiam quum de causis motuum aliquid significare volunt, atque divisionem
ex illis instituere, differentiam motus naturalis et violent!, maxima cum
OF SCIENCE VERSUS SYSTEM-BUILDING 333
To which of those opposite sects does Adam Smith belong ?
and on which of these two modes are the principles guiding
his speculations framed ?
To me it appears that his philosophy is that of explanation
and system, and that his speculations are not to be considered
as inductive investigations and expositions of the real prin-
ciples guiding the successions of phenomena, but as successful
efforts to arrange with regularity, according to common and
preconceived notions, a multiplicity of known facts.
My reasons for this opinion are drawn, 1st. from the object
at which his philosophy aims : 2d. from the methods which he
adopts to attain it : 3d. from the consequences which have
resulted from his labors. I shall arrange the proofs for the
justice of this conclusion, which I purpose submitting to
tht reader, according to these three heads ; contrasting in
each the spirit and consequences of his speculative principles
h those of the inductive philosophy.
I. According to Adam Smith "Wonder, and not any expec-
>n of advantage from its discoveries, is the first principle
which prompts mankind to the study of philosophy, of that
science which pretends to lay open the concealed connexions
that unite the various appearances of nature ; l philosophical
systems are to be considered as mere inventions of the imagina-
tion to connect together the otherwise disjointed and discordant
phenomena of nature." " A philosophical system is an imagi-
machine invented to connect together in the fancy, those
:ent movements and effects, which are already in reality
performed." 2
socordia, introducunt ; qua? et ipsa omnino ex notione vulgari est; cum omnis
motus violentus etiam naturalis revera sit, ista mere popularia sunt, et nullo
modo in Nat u ram penetrant. Xov. Org. Lib. I. Ixvi.
1 Ad rb davudffw ol Avflpwiroi ical vvv Kal rb TpCrrov 1}p$arro ^uXoffwfxiv, etc.
Ariat. Lib. I. Cap. 2. Metaph.
se passages are quoted from one of his posthumous works: "The
pies which lead and direct Philosophical Inquiries, illustrated by the
Astronomy, of Ancient Physics, Logic, and Metaphysics." It may
perhaps be thought that in this work he represents only what he conceive* to
be the actual path of philosophy, not that which it should pursue. I do not
so, because the declarations of his particular itimate the con-
trary ; thus his editors say, in reference to the fragment on Astronomy, that it
334- APPENDIX
It is needless to say that this account of the object of
philosophy is quite opposite to that given in the Novum
Organum. The passages already quoted may show this and
many others might be adduced. It is throughout the endeavor
of the founder of the experimental philosophy to hold out
truth itself, and the benefits to be derived from it, as its
object ; to show that this we can never reach by any effort of
the mere reasoning and imaginative faculties, or in any other
manner than through patient induction ; l and that that
training of systems explanatory of things already known is
foreign to its purposes. 2
II. Philosophy being thus, according to Adam Smith, an art
addressing itself to please the imagination, it gains its end by
searching for some common and familiar observation, and
making it serve as the means of connecting any series of
interesting events, to the consideration of which curiosity may
direct the attention. " In the mean time it will serve to con-
firm what has gone before and to throw light upon what is to
come after, that we observe, in general, that no system, how
well soever in other respects supported, has even been able to
gain any general credit on the world, whose connecting prin-
ciples were not such as were familiar to all mankind." 3 It is
by this circumstance that he judges of the merit of all philo-
sophical systems, and the superiority of Sir Isaac Newton over
Des Cartes, consists, according to him, in his discovering that
is to be viewed as an additional illustration of those principles of the human
mind, which Mr. Smith has pointed out to be the universal motives of philo-
sophical researches. Dugald Stewart, also, in his life and introductory disser-
tation intimates the same thing. The best proof, however, is in the course he
actually himself pursued.
1 Etenim verum examplar mundi in intellectu humano fundamus ; quale
invenitur, non quale cuipiam sua propria ratio dicta verat. Itaque ipsissimae
res sunt (in hoc genere) veritas et utilitas. Nov. Org. Lib. I. cxxiv.
2 Rursus, si alius quispiam fortasse veritatis inquisitor sit severior, tanien
et ille ipse talem sibi proponet veritatis conditionem, quae menti, et intellectui
satisfaciat in redditione causarum, rerum quoe jampridem sunt cognitae ; non
earn quae nova operum pignora, et novam axiomatum lucem assequatur. Itaque
si 6nis scientiarum a nemine adhuc bene positus sit, non mirum est, si in iis,
quse sunt subordinata ad finem, sequatur aberratio. Nov. Org.
3 History of A stronomy.
OF SCIENCE VERSUS SYSTEM-BUILDING 335
he could join together the movements of the planets by so
familiar a principle of connexion as that of gravity, which com-
pletely removed all the difficulties the imagination had hitherto
felt in attending to them. 1
No doctrine, certainly, can be more opposed to the spirit of
the philosophy of Bacon than this. It is this propensity to
generalize immediately from a few familiar notions, that he all
along represents as the vice of the antecedent system-builders,
and the error which his followers have to guard against.
" There have been, and can be," he says, " but two modes of
searching after truth. The one commencing the chain of
reasoning with some familiar conception of things, flies from
them immediately to general axioms, and from these, and their
assumed incontrovertible truths, judges of all particulars. A
way of philosophizing brief, but rash ; easy and well fitted to
conduct to disputes, but not leading to a knowledge of nature.
This is the common mode. The other rises gradually and
slowly from fact to fact and only at last arrives at the most
general conclusions. These, however, are not notions, the pro-
ducts of the imagination, but real laws of nature, and such as
she herself will acknowledge and obey. 2 Of the two, the
former, the explanation of things according to preconceived
notions, much more easily gains assent than the latter ; its
principles collected from a few facts, and these of familiar
occurrence, seize on the judgment, and fill the imagination.
Whereas, on the other hand, a real interpretation of nature
must find its materials in things very various in themselves,
and gathered together from different quarters, cannot make a
1 History of Astronomy. Pessimum enim omnium eat augurium quod er
consensu capitur in rebus intellectualibus. Nihil enim multis placet, nisi
imaginationem feriat, aut intellect um vulgarium notionum nodis astringat, ut
supra dictum est. Nov. Org. Lib. I. Ixxvii.
"a sensu et particularibus primo loco ad maxime generalia advoletur,
tanquam ad polos tixos circa quas desputationes vertantur ; ab illis caitera per
media deriventur ; via certe compendiaria, sed prsecipiti ; et ad Naturam itn
pervia, ad disputationes vero proclivi et accommodata. At secuudum uos,
> ita continenter, et gradatim excitantur, ut nonnisi postremo loco ad
generalissima veniatur ; ea vero generalissima evadunt, non notionalia, sed
bene terminata ; et talia qu Natura ut revera sibi notiora agnoscat, quodque
rebus htereaut in medullis." Nov. Onj. Prajf. et lib. I. xviii. xix.
APPENDIX
forcible impression on the niiud, and must necessarily appear to
it as something harsh, unusual, and mysterious. Hence in all
-.nin^, having for their object not to gain a know-
B of nature, but to direct the opinions of men, the mode of
philosophizing which proceeds by arguing from preconceived
notions, will always be the most successful." l
I U'lk've it will be found, that the practice of the author of
the Wealth of Nations, every where agrees with his theory, and
that he has himself, in all his speculations, adopted the expla-
iv and systematizing form of philosophizing, instead of the
scientific and inductive, conforming himself to those principles
which he has pointed out as leading and directing philosophical
inquiry, and according to the accuracy of their agreement with
which, all systems of nature have constantly, he tells us,
failed or succeeded in gaining reputation and renown to their
authors " ; and that, his object being every where to build
common facts and familiar observations into a system, not to
inquire into the causes or real laws from which they spring,
he takes those things for fundamental principles which would
present themselves to the inductive inquirer as phenomena, the
principles of which his manner of philosophizing would call on
him to investigate.
In the catalogue of our author's works, the Theory of Moral
Sentiments ranks next to the Inquiry into the Nature and
1 '<( uses of the Wealth of Nations. On what is it founded ?
A generalization from what is termed sympathy a principle
than which there is perhaps no one more sensible to every
individual, more capable of serving as a familiar bond of con-
nexion between the phenomena of the moral world, or better
fitted therefore, for the purposes of the systematic philosopher ;
but than which, also, there is, probably, no single circumstance
in the combined actions of the mind and body, that would
1 Quin longe validiores sunt ad subeundum assensum anticipationes, quam
interpretationes ; quia ex paucis collects, iisque maxime quse familiariter
occurrunt, intellectual statim perstringunt, et phantasiam implent ; ubi contra,
interpretationes, ex rebus admodum variis et multum distantibus sparsim
collectae, intellectum subito percutere non possunt ; ut necesse sit eas, quoad
opiniones, duras et absonas, fere instar mysteriorum fidei videri. In scientiis,
<|ii-i in opiiiionilms et placitis fund.itae sunt, bonus est usus anticipationum et
dialectic* ; quando opus est assensum subjugare,non res.
OF SCIENCE VERSUS SYSTEM-BUILDING 337
appear to the inductive philosopher more deserving of being
itself investigated.
A person enters for the first time an hospital, and the
spectacle is presented to him of an individual undergoing a
severe operation. As at each cut of the knife he sees the
flesh divided, the muscles, vessels, and nerves exposed, the
blood flowing from the large, gaping, quivering wound, and as
he hears the stifled groans of the sufferer, he is conscious of a
strange, tremulous sensation, stealing rapidly over his frame, a
cold dew stands on his forehead, his features contract, he
breathes with difficulty, his limbs sink under him ; in fact, he
will be found to be in the very same state with the person
operated on, in all respects, but that he feels not the acuteness
of torturing pain, and is not subject to the quickening reaction
produced by it. The vital powers therefore very possibly yield
for a little, he faints, is carried out to the fresh air, and in a
few minutes walks off astonished at the strangeness of the
occurrence. When he reaches his home, he learns that an
intimate friend has suffered a great calamity, and the intelli-
gence deeply afflicts him. In both cases he suffers, or
sympathizes, with another person. But are the two pre-
cisely alike ? are we warranted to assume, with Adam Smith,
that the laws governing them are the same ? and is there not
a singular blending in both of mental and corporeal phenomena,
all the circumstances of the actions and reactions of which are
deserving of the minutest investigation from one, who would set
about an inductive inquiry into the principles of our compound
nature ?
The picture, which, adopting the common notion of sympathy
as the point of view, he has given of the phenomena of the
moral world, is exceedingly interesting and comprehensive, and
as a system regularly arranging a vast mass of facts, is very
valuable. Here, however, its merits cease. No one, I
apprehend, will now cite it, as truly developing the nature
of our intellectual being, as an addition to the science of
mind. 1
Similar observations will apply to his fragments on the
1 See the account given of it by his admirer and disciple, Sir James Mac-
It in his Ethical Syxtem*.
Y
338 APPENDIX
imitative arts. He adopts in them the hypothesis that the
pleasure they give arises from some difficulty in the execu-
tion being overcome, and it seems to have been his intention to
build up a whole system of art on this principle. Perhaps no
circumstance can be found, running more through all the arts,
and, therefore, better fitted for the connecting purposes of the
system-builder, or, on the other hand, more curious in itself,
and which, therefore, the inductive philosopher would be more
inclined to inquire into. How is it, that the images of the
poet come upon us with most force, when he puts his words
into measured cadence ? How is it that an ideal form, if
struck out of marble, affects us so much more than if moulded
in wax ? Is it that the spirit, when fully roused, and striving
to embody some great sentiment, or strong emotion, naturally
seizes on the materials which may best betoken energy, and
thus contrives to give an additional air of intellectuality to
mere matter ? This, or a series of such questions present them-
selves to the inductive inquirer. What to the systematic
philosopher affords the means of explaining other things, is to
him the subject itself of inquiry.
But, of all his speculations, there is none in which he seems
to be more completely the philosopher of system and explana-
tion than in the Wealth of Nations. It is a system entirely
founded on the most common and familiar notions, and pro-
ceeds altogether on the generalization of them. Value, riches,
stock, capital, ivealth, profit, self-interest, [competition], the desire
of bettering one's condition, are evidently of this sort. They
are manifestly terms of ill-defined import, referring to notions
drawn hastily, and confusedly, from the course of passing
events ; " notiones confusae, et temere a rebus abstracts." And
the strain of his "reasoning upon them is that proper to the
philosophy of system, which, taking from experience the most
common and familiar observations, applies itself not to inquire
into them, but to form a theory out of them. " Rationale enim
genus philosophantium ex experientia arripiunt varia et vulgaria,
eaque neque certo comperta, nee diligenter examinata et pensi-
tata ; reliqua meditatione, atque ingenii agitatione ponunt."
If we, therefore, view his work as an attempt to establish the
science of wealth, on the principles of the experimental or
OF SCIENCE VERSUS SYSTEM-BUILDING 339
inductive philosophy, it is exposed to the censure of trangress-
ing every rule of that philosophy.
" Men are inclined to think that it is not necessary to-
inquire into the causes of events that are common and happen
every day, but, taking them for things too evident and mani-
fest to require explanation, assume them as causes sufficiently
accounting for phenomena, that are not of so frequent and
familiar occurrence. Whereas, in reality, no judgment can be
formed of events which are rare and remarkable, nor can any
thing new be brought to light, without an accurate investiga-
tion of the causes, and even the causes of the causes of things,
that are the most common and familiar." l
The reason of this will be evident, by referring to the
example before adduced. If a man, as in the case of the savage,
who is totally unacquainted with the system of things but as
they present themselves to the eye of the practical observer, be
asked why a stone falls to the ground, he would answer, " it is
its nature, all heavy bodies fall to the ground." " Why does-
smoke ascend ? " " It is its nature, all light bodies mount
upwards." " Why, when a stone is seen flying through the
air, do you look about to find out the reason of it ? " " Be-
cause it is against its nature, and I know, therefore, it must
1 Atque de istis rebus, quae videntur vulgatae, illud homines cogitent ;
solere sane eos adhuc nihil aliud agere, quam ut eorum, quae rara sunt,
causas ad ea, quae frequenter fiunt, referant et accommodeut : at ipsorum,
quae frequentur eveniunt, causas nullas inquirant, sed ea ipsa recipiant tan-
tjuam concessa et admissa.
Itaque uon ponderit, non rotationis ccelestium, non calorix non frigoris
non luminis, non dnri non WO//M, non tenui*, non densi, non liquidi, non
, non animati, non inanamiti, non similaris, non dissimilaris,
nee demum oryanici causas quaerunt ; sed illis tanquam pro evidentibus et
manifestis receptis, de caeteris rebus, quae non tarn frequenter et familiariter
occurrunt, disputant et judicant.
Nos vero, qui satis scimus nullum de rebus raris aut notabilibus judicium
fieri posse, multo minus res novas in lucem protrahi, absque vulgarium
rerum causis et causarutn causis rite examinatis et repertis ; necessario ad
res vulgarissimas in historian) nostram recipiendas compellimur. Quinetiam
nil magis philosophise offecisse deprehendimus, quam quod res, quae familiares
sunt et frequenter occurrunt, contemplationem hominum non morentur et
detineant, sed recepiantur obiter neque earum causie quaari soleant ; ut non
saepius requiratur informatio de rebus ignotis, quam attentio in notis. Nov..
I, cxix.
340 APPENDIX
have been produced by violence by some external force."
Thus, too, among mere practical observers of events, there
would come to be the terms gravity, levity, natural and violent
motion. Now all these words and phrases, if correctly inter-
preted, are perfectly correct, according to the measure of the
knowledge of the individuals, and assume nothing but what
their experience warrants. When it is said that smoke ascends
in consequence of its levity, or because it is the nature of it
and other light bodies to ascend, nothing more is necessarily
implied in the words than that there is something, what is not
known, arising from the general constitution of things, from
the system of nature itself, causing that ascent, and that, while
this general constitution of things remains unaltered, all such
bodies will ascend. So it is when it is said that it is against
the nature of a stone to move in any direction but downwards,
and that its other motions must be violent. The expressions,
in strictness, mean nothing more than that unless acted on by
some extraneous cause, while the present condition of things
lasts, if it move at all, its motion will be directly downwards.
AJ1 these are conclusions drawn from experience, and form
general rules of real practical utility. Science will never teach
the savage to shape, to trim, or to preserve the poise of his
canoe, better than observations similar to these have already
taught him.
When now the systematic philosopher applies himself to
account for, and range in regular order, the various phenomena
referable to matter and motion, his object being merely expla-
nation and arrangement, he naturally sets out from common
and familiar notions, and principles which no one doubts of,
and applies all his powers to tracing out from their operation
some explanation of the phenomena in question. " Reasoning
on these familiar notions, from a few particulars, and perhaps
some generally admitted maxims, he rises immediately to the
most general conclusions, and from their fixed and immutable
truth judges all other particulars. If some of them seem con-
trary to his theory, he employs his ingenuity to explain them
away, or to make them appear coincident, or removes the diffi-
culty by terming them exceptions ; while such particulars as
are not opposed to his principles, are laboriously and artfully
OF SCIENCE VERSUS SYSTEM-BUILDING 341
arranged, according to his system." l Omitting, for the pre-
sent, the consideration of what he actually accomplishes, let us
attend to that wherein he fails.
The familiar notions of the common observer become his
connecting media, and he pretends to account for the whole
phenomena of matter and motion, on the principles, as he calls
them, of gravity, levity, natural and violent motion. Now it is
obvious that, by this application of the terms, he completely,
though imperceptibly, changes their meaning. As employed
by the man of practical observation, though perhaps somewhat
confusedly conceived, they necessarily and really mean nothing
more, than certain known consequences, the results of some
unknown laws or powers regulating the system of things. As
employed by the systematic philosopher, they, on the contrary,
are assumed to be the very laws, powers, or principles, them-
selves governing and sustaining the mundane system. The
change in signification is not perceived, for the generality of
mankind are incapable of any thing like metaphysical accuracy
of conception, and are led away very easily by the fallacies of
language. Its consequences, however, are important, for if we
understand by science the knowledge of the real laws of nature,
the laws governing the general system, this assumption com-
pletely diverts from their discovery, for it induces the belief
that they are already reached. It seems to be on this account,
that Lord Bacon so often points out the errors arising from the
hasty adoption of preconceived notions, " anticipations," the
greater part of the first book of the Novum Organum consisting,
1 Formam enim inquirendi ct inveniendi apud antiques et ipsi profitentur,
et scripta eorum prae se ferunt. Ea autem non alia f uit, quam ut ab exemplis
quibusdam et particularibus (additis notionibus communibus, et fortasse por-
tione nonnulla ex opinionibus receptis, quae maxime placuerunt) ad conclu-
siones maxime generates sive principia scientiarum, advolarent ; ad quorum
veritatem immotam et fix am conclusiones inferiores per media educerent
ac probarent, ex quibus artem constituebant. Turn demum si nova particularia
et exempla mota essent et adducta, quae plaeitis suis refragarentur ; ilia aut
per diatinctiones, aut per regularum suarum explanationes, in ordinem sub-
tiliter redigebant ; aut demum per exceptiones grosso modo summovebant.
At rerum particulariutn non refragrantium causaa, ad ilia principia sua
laboriose et pertinaciter accommodabant. Verum nee historia naturalis et
experientia ilia erat, quam fuisse oportebat (longe certe abeat ;) et iata advo-
latio ad generalisaima omnia perdidit. Nov. Org. L. I. cxxv.
342 APPENDIX
in fact, of an exposition of them. 1 Acuteness of reasoning,
and reach of thought are thus, he observes, rendered useless,
for they come too late. The place for them is examining and
weighing experiences, and from these deducing first principles. 2
If this be omitted no subtilty of definition, or logical accuracy
of deduction can avail. The remedy is too weak for the evil,
nor is itself void of evil. The instrument employed is not
fitted to reach the depths of nature, and, by catching after
what it can attain to, is rather calculated to establish error,
than to open up the road to truth. The definitions may indeed
sufficiently mark the sense, and from these definitions the con-
clusions insisted on may be logically deduced; nevertheless there
is this of deceit in the procedure, that the notions themselves
may be taken up hastily, and carelessly from common observa-
tion, and may, therefore, be confused, and loose, and afford no
.solid foundation for the edifice which it is attempted to rear." a
;Such was the system of physics which the Greeks raised from
these principles. Being built on common and familiar notions
:a conversion of general practical rules into speculative general
principles whatever its merits were as a system, explaining
according to popular notions, the various phenomena of nature,
and ranging these in regular order, it had no pretensions to
! merit as expository of the real science of nature.
It was not until attention was directed to the examination
of things before supposed to be known, motion, natural and
violent, gravity, levity, etc. and inquiry made into the prin-
1<{ Non, si omnia omnium aetatum ingenia coierint, et labores contulerint
et transmiserint, progressus magnus fieri poterit in scientiis per anticipa-
tiones : quia errores radicales, et in prima digestione mentis ab excellentia
functionum et remediorum sequentium non curantur." Nov. Org. Lib. I. xxx.
2 Ibid. c. xxi.
3 " Verum infirmior omnino est malo medicina ; (Ars dicdectica scilicet)
nee ipsa mali expers naturae enim subtilitatem longo intervallo non attingit ;
et prensando quod non capit, ad errores potius stabiliendos, et quasi figendos,
quam ad viam veritati aperiendam valuit hoc subest fraudis, quod syllogis-
mus ex propositionibus constet, propositiones ex verbis, verba autem notionum
tesserae et signa sint. Itaque si notiones ipsae mentis (quae verborum quasi
anima sunt, et totius hujusmodi structures ac fabricae basis) male ac temere
a rebus abstract*, et vagae, nee satis definitae et circumscriptse, denique
multismodis vitiosae fuerint, omnia ruunt." Nov. Org. Prsef.
OF SCIENCE VERSUS SYSTEM-BUILDING 343
ciples by which they themselves are regulated, the laws, that is
to say, according to which the phenomena, so denominated, are
produced, that a beginning was given to real science. Then
the laws regulating the universal system were gradually
unfolded, and things seemingly forever hidden in the depths of
the immensity of space and time, brought clearly before the
intellectual ken of man.
As in the system of things making up the world of mere
matter, certain terms are employed to denote general facts and
rules, which [common] experience has taught, so, in the com-
pound system of men and things making up the world of
civilized life, certain other terms are employed to denote the
general facts and rules, which [common] experience also has
there taught ; and as in a department of the one, we have
heaviness, lightness, natural, and violent motion, etc. ; so in a
department of the other we have capital, valm, profit, a due
regard to self-interest, etc. ; in both, too, it is to be observed,
such popular and familiar phrases and notions, correctly inter-
preted, express, not the general laws of the system, but the
usual and expected results of those laws.
Thus, if in any particular society, one were to be asked, what
the capital of some other person were, he might answer, " about
a thousand pounds." If farther requested to state his reasons
for saying so, he might reply, " the property he holds would
fetch that in the market, he has been offered that for it," or,
" I know it cost him that, and that he laid out his money
judiciously." These are all the answers he would think of
giving ; for common purposes they are all he requires to give,
and they are all that his notions actually embrace. If asked
again, " what revenue does this person derive from his
capital ? " he might answer, " I suppose about that which such
a capital generally yields, the usual profits of stock a fair,
reasonable, mercantile profit, neither much above or below par."
If questioned farther, as to the nature of this capital, and its
return, which he terms profit, he would answer, if simply a
practical observer, " Really as to this I have never inquired, I
know that where I have lived, and I believe in all civilized
societies, certain things, if sold, have certain values, bring cer-
tain sums of money, and if kept and judiciously employed,
344 APPENDIX
yield certain amounts of money, or moneys' worth. Why they
do so, though it must arise, no doubt, from the circumstances
and actions and reactions on each other of the various things
and persons forming these societies, I have not examined into,
and do not pretend to know." His answer, in short, would be
that he knows them only as results of the laws governing the
general system of which he makes a part.
By taking, therefore, these, and such like common and
familiar notions, as the foundation of his reasoning, Adam
Smith made his work an explanatory system, not an inductive
inquiry. The principles of the inductive philosophy would
have led him to inquire into the nature of those familiar
notions, into the laws or causes of those common occurrences ;
and he would have set out with the question, What is it, in
the nature of man and matter, that makes any thing constitute
a capital, or yield a profit ? In the words of the Novum
Organum, already cited, he would have considered, " that no
judgment can ever be formed of things that are rare and
remarkable, much less can any thing new be brought to light,
unless the causes, and even the causes of the causes, of occur-
rences the most common and familiar, be rigidly examined and
clearly discovered."
It is, therefore, an abuse of words to say, that the publica-
tion of the Inquiry into the Wealth of Nations, rendered
political economy a science of experience. 1 It made it so in
no other manner than as every philosophical system is, of
necessity. They are all, of necessity, founded on some
observations, the fruits of experience. 2 The difference be-
1 " Une science expe"rimentale," Say. See note on Storch, p. 24, Vol. I.
of the Cours d'Economie Politique, where he declares it to be precisely-
similar to modern mechanical science, "la m^canique analytique." The
comparison should have been, as we have seen, with the ancient mechanical
philosophy.
2 " Neque illud quenquam moveat, quod in libris ejus (Aristotelis) de ani-
malibus, et in problematibus, et in aliis suis tractatibus, versatio frequeiis sit
in experimentis. Ille enim prius decreverat, neque experientiam ad consti-
tuenda decreta et axiomata rite consuluit ; sed postquam pro arbitrio suo de-
crevisset, experientiam ad sua placita tortam circumducit, et captivam ; ut
hoc etiam nomine magis accusandus sit, quam sectatores ejus moderni (scho-
lasticorum philosophorum genus) qui experientiam omnino deserueruut."
Nov. Org. ib. L. I. Ixiii.
OF SCIENCE VERSUS SYSTEM-BUILDING 345
tween them is, that those observations which men make
concerning the general results of the laws of the universe,
and to which convenience leads them to give names, are
assumed by the systematic philosopher for the laws them-
selves, and that the scientific inquirer examines them patiently,
and perseveringly, and ascending gradually, from one thing to
another, endeavors thus at last to reach the real laws of nature.
While the one assumes phenomena for principles, the other
applies to the things giving rise to those phenomena, and
collecting, comparing, and arranging these, traces out the real
connexions between them, the real principles governing nature.
We may easily satisfy ourselves of the difference of the prin-
ciples which true science reaches, and those employed in the
Wealth of Nations, by taking any of the latter and seeing how
it agrees with the rules by which the former may be tested.
Thus the principle, that self-interest is the great and all-suffi-
cient cause of the increase of wealth, both private and public,
is evidently nothing else than an application of the common
assumption that a man's fortune and his interest are the same,
and a generalization of the observation that he, therefore, who
understands his interest best and takes best care of it, will get
rich the fastest. But if self-interest be, in the scientific sense,
the cause of wealth, both public and private, 1 (the law accord-
ing to which it either is, or is not produced,) whenever self-
interest, (the desire of bettering one's condition) manifests
itself in action, it must tend to the increase of public wealth. 2
Do the labors of the cool, calculating, gambler, or of the
sharper, add to public wealth ? Does the spirit of keen bar-
u'ainini:, and taking every possible advantage of those with
whom transfers are effected, that sometimes pervades classes,
and communities, add to public wealth ? Assuredly not ; yet
in all these self-interest is the ruling motive of action. Let it
ii"t be said, that these are exceptions to a general rule.
1 Desir de 1'homine d'ameliorer son sort : principe qui eat au monde moral,
ce que la gravitation eat au monde phisique. Storch.
1 It will be observed that I here, and throughout, speak of self-interest in
>mmon and familiar sense. The author of the Theory of Moral Senti-
A.ts MM t ,111 utilitarian. If the reader happen to be so, he will perceive
th.it the argument is not altered, the names only have to be so.
346 APPENDIX
Though there may be exceptions to general rules, there are no
exceptions to scientific principles. " Wherever a scientific
cause, or law, or principle operates, there the thing itself, of
which it is said to be the cause, is necessarily produced. And
it may be universally affirmed that, where this the form is,
there the thing sought is also, and where it is not, there the
thing cannot be. 1 Nothing is to be received for the true
scientific cause, unless the thing of which it is the cause,
increases and decreases along with it. 2
This difference, indeed, between common practical observa-
tions and rules, and general scientific principles must always
exist, for it springs from the different nature of the one and the
other. The observations which the man of practice makes, as
has been already remarked, are on phenomena, the results of
the play of real principles, and as these principles may vary in
their proportions to each other, and in the modes in which their
powers are exerted, the results produced by their action must
occasionally vary. The principles themselves, however, never
vary ; and, therefore, one observation or experiment concerning
a real principle, if there be no inaccuracy in it, has always in
science been esteemed as good as a thousand. The whole
inductive philosophy may, indeed, be said to rest on the
impossibility of the occurrence of exceptions to real laws.
Hence the extensive use of negative instances, determining, at
last, what is a principle by pointing out what it is not.
Again ; it is far from being the case, that a regard for self-
interest, a desire of bettering one's condition, prompts always
to a course of action leading to an increase of even private
fortune. This must depend on what is esteemed the best
condition, on what one's happiness rests. 3 Hence what has
1 Etenim forma naturae alicujus talis est, ut ea posita, natura data infallibi-
liter sequatur. Itaque adest perpetuo, quando natura ilia adest, atque earn
universaliter affirmat, atque inest omni. Eadem forma talis est, ut ea amota,
natura data infallibiliter fugiat. Itaque abest perpetuo, quando natura ilia
abest, eamque perpetuo abnegat, atque inest soli. Nov. Org. Lib. II. iv.
2 Omnino sequitur ut non recipiatur aliqua natura pro vera forma, nisi per-
petuo decrescat quando natura ipsa descrescit, et similiter perpetuo augeatur
quando natura ipsa augetur. Nov. Org. Lib. II. xiii.
3 Le de"sir d'am&iorer son sort le de"sir d'etre heureux. Storch, Vol. I.
p. 44, 45.
OF SCIENCE VERSUS SYSTEM-BUILDING 347
been regarded as the most enlightened self-interest, 1 has often
led, as we have seen, to a course of action the very reverse.
The Romans, under the emperors, were assuredly as earnest in
their quest after happiness, as were ever any race, yet their
manners, and their whole practical morality tended to the
diminution of wealth previously accumulated, and they
swallowed up, in extravagant dissipation, the riches of king-
doms. Nor let it be here answered, that facts applicable to
the Romans, or other people of habits and modes of thinking
and acting unlike those characterizing the civilized world of
modern days, cannot be fairly adduced in investigations con-
cerning existing systems of society. This is indeed true, if the
reasonings in the Wealth of Nations be admitted to be of the
systematic and explanatory cast, but not if that work he main-
tained to be an inductive inquiry. These remote and hetero-
geneous instances, are the very ones which experimental science
most prizes, 2 and this, for the reason just adduced, that real
principles being constant in their action, what are, and what
are not the principles inquired after, are thus tested. 3
1 [That is, the current self-interest of the educated classes, at any time or
place; not the long-run, really "enlightened" self-interest, as tested by the
experience of nations and of ages.]
a Nemo enim rei alicujus naturam in ipsa re, recte aut feliciter perscrutatur.
Nov. Org. Praef.
Instantias remotas et heterogeneas, per quas axiomata, tanquam igne, pro-
bantur. Ibid. Lib. I. xlvii.
* Perhaps it may be said, that the strictness of the inductive method can
only apply to the sciences treating of mere matter and its affections. This
were to declare the same thing to be, and not to be, a science of experiment,
and is besides in opposition to the authority of the founder of the inductive
philosophy.
Ktiain dulutabit quispiam potius quam objiciet ; utrum nos de natunili
tantum philosophia, an etiam de scientiis reliquis, logicis, ethicis, politicis,
secundum viam nostram perficiendis loquamur. At nos certe de universis haec,
quae dicta sunt, intelligimus : Atque quumadmodum vulgaris, logica, quae regit
ret per syllogismum, non tantum ad naturales, sed ad omnes scientias perti-
net : ita et nostra, qua; procedit per inductionem, omnia complectitur. Tarn
enim historian! et tabulas inveniendi < ( >nti< inuis de tra, metu, et verccundia,
et ftimilibus : ac etiam de exemplis rerum civilium ; nee minus de motibus
mentalibus memorirr, compositions et divi*ioiiix, judicii, et reliquorum, qaam
iJido et friyido, aut luce, aut vegetatioiie, aut similibus." A T or. Ory.
I c. r-xxvii.
348 APPENDIX
III. The actual history of what is termed the science of
political economy, is another mode of ascertaining the justice
of its pretensions to that appellation. By comparing it with
the generic character of the history of philosophical sects of
the explanatory and systematic form, given by the founder of
the inductive philosophy, as contrasted with what he pointed
out was to be expected from that philosophy, and time has
shown it has accomplished, we might have farther grounds to
come to a conclusion on the question. To do this at length,
however, would lead us too far beyond limits, which I have
already exceeded. I shall, therefore, confine the few farther
observations I have to make, to one circumstance, which Lord
Bacon gives as characteristic of the two sects. In his figura-
tive language " the path which the inductive philosophy takes,
is at first steep and difficult, but leads to an open country,
while that adopted by the explanatory and systematic, though
at first easy and inviting, is at last lost in deserts or conducts
to precipices." 1
The doubts and difficulties in which the progress of those
has been involved, who have advanced farthest along the
apparently safe and easy road that Adam Smith seemed to
have opened up, indicate it not to be the path of science. Of
these I shall adduce a few instances.
Capital is uniformly treated of in the Wealth of Nations, as
a thing homogeneous in its nature, having always the same
qualities, (according to the definition of Mr. Say, an amount
of values), and any increase or diminution of it, as a mere
alteration in quantity. This being taken to be the case, as
like causes produce like effects, it seems very evidently to
follow, that the only manner in which a change can be pro-
duced in the returns yielded by it [to the owner], must be by
the labor that it employs, absorbing a larger or smaller part
of them. This result is not uniformly kept in view in the
Wealth of Nations, though it is very frequently brought for-
ward. 2 We are often told, that, as the wages of labor fall,
1 " Via altera ab initio ardua et difficilis, desinet in apertum ; altera
primo intuitu expedita et proclivis, ducet in avia et prsecipitia. "
2 [" What is the nature of the profit of stock ? and how does it originate ? are
questions the [real] answers to which do not immediately suggest themselves.
OF SCIENCE VERSUS SYSTEM-BUILDING 349
profits rise, and as profits fall the wages of labor rise, but
other causes besides the proportion of its returns paid to the
laborer, are conceived to operate on it. Thus a simple increase
in its quantity is assigned, in one part of the work, as sufficient
of itself to occasion a fall in profits. " When the stocks of
many rich merchants are turned into the same trade, their
mutual competition naturally tends to lower its profit ; and
when there is a like increase of stock in all the different trades
carried on in the same society, the same competition must pro-
duce the same effect in them all." Mr. Eicardo has, however,
pointed out, from Adam Smith's own principles, that no such
effect would ensue, and insists on it as a general principle that
wages alone vary profit. Profits, according to him, are in-
creased or diminished, exactly as the maintenance of labor is
easy or difficult, from fertile land being abundant or scarce.
Admitting the popular notion of capital, that serves as the
basis of Adam Smith's reasonings, to be of a sort on which
true science may be built, the theory of Mr. Kicardo seems to
me hard to be controverted, and has certainly the merit of
giving uniformity and regularity to the system. It has accord-
ingly been acquiesced in very generally in Britain, by men
who are given to this department of inquiry, and has been
adopted and defended by many writers of unquestioned ability.
Nevertheless, it may well be doubted, if it has added to the
general confidence in the science. The conclusions to which
it leads have in them something so extraordinary, as to
exceed the strength of any common measure of faith in such
abstractions.
Thus, according to the principles of this school, no extension
of foreign trade, however advantageous, and no improvement
in domestic industry, however great, can in the least increase
profits; [unless they cheapen food, and so multiply laborers,
and so bring down money wages]. On the other hand, no
diminution of foreign trade can, of itself, lessen profits. It
follows also, from the same principles, that colonies give no
commercial advantages to the mother country, and, therefore,
The author of the Wealth of Nations appears to consider the profit of
stock, as paid out of and therefore I.-nv-.l from, tin " \, due added by the
workman to the raw material." (Lauderdale, Inquiry, p. 149.)]
350 APPENDIX
that being in general expensive, they ought to be shaken off
as a burden on her resources. Sir Henry Parnell observes,
and quotes Mr. Mill in his support, that, " The capital which
supplies commodities for the colonies would still prepare com-
modities if the colonies ceased to purchase them ; and those
commodities would find consumers, for every country contains
within itself a market for all it can produce. 1 There is, there-
fore, no advantage derived under freedom of competition, from
that part of the trade with a colony which consists in supply-
ing it with goods, since no more is gained by it than such
ordinary profits of stock as would be gained if no such trade
existed." 2
These, and similar doctrines, have something in them so
strange, so contrary to experience, and seem so paradoxical,
that they have in most people rather the effect of exciting
surprise, than producing belief. They are exceeded, however,
by what a writer in the Edinburgh Review [McCulloch] has
proved, and in my opinion satisfactorily proved, from the
principles of his school, concerning the effect of Irish absen-
teeism. He shows that it can have no disadvantageous, and
possibly may have an advantageous effect, in that it can only
cause capital to pass from one employment to another, possibly
from a less, to a more advantageous employment. That, as it
is the capital of the artisan, the tradesman, and shop-keeper,
that yields them their revenue, were all their customers
annihilated, they would still live equally well on their capitals.
That so, were all the landlords in Ireland to leave it, and
were their rents to be sent them, to a distant kingdom, in the
shape either of cash or agricultural produce, it could not
possibly be of any detriment to the country they abandoned.
Though the argument is skilfully conducted, and though it
is in perfect accordance with the leading principles of the
science for, if capitalists are dependent on their customers,
1 [This last clause pertains to the theory of reciprocal demand, not to the
theory of the general profit-yielding power of capital two very different
concepts. ]
2 [If the colonies were " in the deep sea sunk," as Bentham put it. There
was, indeed, in the colonial speculations of several writers of this period, a most
extraordinary exemplification of a lump-of -capital theory.]
OF SCIENCE VERSUS SYSTEM-BUILDING 351
what becomes of the all-sufficiency of capital ? and, if the
British Government could advantage Ireland by taxing
absentees, what becomes of the principle of non-interference ?
yet there are perhaps few people, on whom it has had
the effect the author probably desired. It has the disadvan-
tage of proving too much. When it is shown, that, according
to received principles, two large classes so intimately depen-
dent on each other, as are the landlords of a great country,
and the mechanics and capitalists that they employ, can be
completely severed, without injuriously affecting the whole
system of things in the society, we are rather inclined to
doubt of the principles, than to acquiesce in the conclusion.
However skilfully the argument may be urged, or however
closely one part of it may seem joined to another, it has
rather the effect of inducing skepticism than conviction. We
still figure to ourselves that there is a loss to Ireland, a gain
to some other place. We cannot get rid of the imagination,
that, if the landlords were all to go in a body, for instance, to
Brussels, and spend their rents there, they would give profit-
able employment, in some way or other, to a vast number
of laborers, tradesmen, and artificers, and that the population
and wealth of that town would be largely augmented, that
of Ireland proportionally diminished.
These, and many such like instances, seem to us contrary
to the usual progress of real knowledge. The experience of
what true science is, has accustomed us to expect that in this,
as in other branches of inquiry, the farther we advance the
larger and larger a compass of undeniable facts should present
i selves, that we should be able more and more evidently
to connect phenomena, that seemed at first disjointed and
isolated, and that, the indistinctness of distance being re-
moved, truth should stand clearly before us. Deceived in our
anticipations, we feel like travellers who find the straight and
well-beaten path on which they entered, becoming more
devious and faint the farther they journey, leaving the habita-
of men, and leading to barren and dangerous wastes.
Thuugh we can trace no error, we begin to suspect that there
iie, and that somehow or other, we have taken the wrong
Direction.
352 APPENDIX
Dugald Stewart has a remark on the abstract philosophy of
David Hume, that seems not inapplicable to this, so termed,
abstract science. It is well known, that that skeptical
philosopher deduced, pretty clearly, from Mr. Locke's prin-
ciples, that the human mind was a mere bundle of sensations.
The professor observes, that, before any formal refutation of
the doctrine appeared, it might have been sufficient answer to
it, that it was so contrary to the experience of every one,
as to make it more reasonable to suppose an error, either
in the premises or deduction, though that error might not be
discoverable, than to believe that the metaphysicians were
right, all the rest of mankind wrong. Such an answer is,
I suspect, that which is now present to the minds of very
many, in regard to the strange dogmas of the prevailing school
of political economy. They regard them as a sort of practical
demonstratio ad absurdum of some fundamental fallacy in the
science.
Keasoning from Adam Smith's principles, his followers, in
more than one instance, have arrived at conclusions differing
considerably from his. He looked on parsimony as the great
generator of wealth ; they rather hold an opinion similar to
that of Mandeville, that to consume largely is an essential
part of the process, consumption and reproduction being
represented by them as the two springs, by the rapid play
of which the general prosperity is advanced. 1
I shall conclude these remarks, by observing, that in my
opinion the disciples and followers of Adam Smith, in claiming
for the speculations contained in the Wealth of Nations, and
for the doctrines they have founded on them, the rank of an
experimental science, the conclusions of which are entitled to
the same credence with other experimental sciences, act injudi-
ciously, and by insisting on pretensions which are unfounded,
1 [No English writer actually reproduces the teaching of Mandeville ; but
certainly Malthus in his Political Economy represents exactly that progress is
made by the " rapid play " on each other of supply and demand.
The opinion respecting English classic economics which Rae still held thirty
years later, is to be found in a fragment of his manuscript published in the
Quarterly Journal of Economics for November, 1901.]
OF SCIENCE VERSUS SYSTEM-BUILDING 353
injure the cause of that philosopher and conceal his real merits.
If we view his philosophical system of the Wealth of Nations,
or indeed any of his philosophical systems, as he views every
such system, "as an imaginary machine invented to connect
together in the fancy those different movements and effects
which are already in reality performed," nothing of the sort can
be more beautiful. A clear, orderly, and extensive view is
given of a vast number of interesting and important facts,
connected by a few familiar principles. A great body of
knowledge is thus brought before the mind in a shape which it
can readily grasp, and easily command. The object being not
to discover, but to arrange and methodize, all the subordinate
principles of the system are artfully bent so as to embrace the
phenomena, and care is taken that the imagination be not
shocked by a view of matters that shall seem irreconcilable to
the aspect of affairs which the [mere] contemplation of the
world of life itself presents. Nor is it to be disputed that a
general system of the sort, besides the pleasure and the
ail vantage derived from it, is likely to be nearer the truth than
speculations of the same nature, confined to particular parts.
The case, however, is completely altered, when the loose and
popular principles on which such a system proceeds, are
adopted as demonstrative axioms, the discoveries of real science,
and are carried out to their extreme consequences. Their
inal purpose is then altogether changed, and instead of
serving to bring before the mind a collection of facts, they lead
it farther and farther away from truth and reality, into the
barren and wearisome regions of mere verbal abstractions.
ARTICLE VI.
THE THEOEY OF POPULATION. 1
THE laws of true inductive science are of universal application
and admit not of exceptions. If even a single manifest excep-
tion occurs it ought to invalidate the law. If, for instance, a
new compound were found that obeyed not the chemical law
of definite proportions, it would rightly occasion an uneasy
feeling in the whole chemical world, and there would be
no rest there till the apparent anomaly was explained.
Considered in this way the laws of population as expounded
by Malthus will be found to fail. His error arises from the
fact that he assimilates man to the inferior animals. This
was also the practice of the elder Mirabeau [who maintained
that wherever there was subsistence, the human species would
multiply " like rats in a barn."]
Now the nature of the two is different ; and if you assume
that two things of unlike nature obey the same laws, you are
guilty of a rashness that almost infallibly vitiates your conclu-
sions. The inferior animals are led by mere instinct, whereas
man is guided by reason, by fancy, and by that changeful
thing we call moral feeling. Moreover, man and the lower
animals are different physically. With the latter the female
1 [From Rae's manuscript written in the Sandwich Islands, with the excep-
tion of the last three paragraphs which are taken from p. 323 of the Political
Economy.
Two rather more elaborate versions of Rae's final position on the subject of
population have already been printed in the Economic Journal for March,
1902.]
OF POPULATION 355
admits the male only when she is in a condition to conceive ;
with man it is otherwise. There are still other important
points of difference under this head which you will find set
forth in the Memorabilia, where Socrates is enumerating the
particulars of man's superiority. [But the more significant
differences are not those which are solely or chiefly physical ;
but those which are psychological and moral.] Man is the
child of art, of phantasy, and of reason full of freaks.
The rapid depopulation of these islands is, in itself, a
curious circumstance, and highly interesting as connected
with the probable fate of other rude nations, the mass of
the earth in fact, if subjected to similar influences. [It is,
moreover, a phenomenon which does not square with the
Mirabeau-Malthusian doctrine.] Subsistence is easily pro-
rured here, there being an abundance of vacant, fertile land,
two hours daily labor on which would give every man ample
support for a large family. Cattle, goats, and horses (the
latter eaten by the natives and preferred to beef), have been
added to the resources of former times. One would expect,
tlu re fore, on Malthusian principles, an increase of population
instead of this fearful diminution.
Vice is put down by Mai thus as one of the checks to
population; and here it is true of recent years vice, in
the form of drunkenness and licentiousness especially among
young females, has greatly increased. [But with Malthus
is treated as specifically "a check" to the pressure of
a growing population upon the means of subsistence, and
ng out of that pressure. Here, as has just been observed,
is no pressure of population.] Those other forms of
and things analogous to vice, which are the positive
ks of a growing population in straitened material circum-
stances wars, epidemics, human sacrifice, infanticide, incon-
stant marriages, and intercourse between males (which last
was formerly an established institution), have all since the
of the missionaries been greatly lessened or done
away with altogether.
[Tin- fact is that the Malthusian philosophy of population
accounts for the vital phenomena of healthy societies only,
not at all for that of sick societies, such as the one in these
356 APPENDIX
islands has become (notwithstanding the efforts of the mis-
sionaries), 1 and such as Rome was in the days of her decline.
A scientific theory which does not explain the totality of
the phenomena with which it is concerned, is manifestly in-
sufficient ; at best, it may be half right.]
A truly philosophical Essay on Population, fearlessly em-
bracing the whole subject, might proceed thus. Man is an
animal and more. Being an animal he must in each genera-
tion exercise his powers of propagation to the extent of some-
what more than reproducing himself, else accidents would
diminish and ultimately destroy the race. He resembles the
inferior animals also in this, that the act of propagation
is attended with vehement pleasure. But he differs from
them in this, that he knows the probable results of this act
(which they do not), and in dread of these results may alto-
gether refrain or take measures to negative them. He may
employ the organs for mere pleasure or as a means of gratify-
ing and confirming the affections. He has in short the capa-
city of diminishing his numbers by abstinence which his
reason, either when on the right road or when a wandering,
may teach him; or by other modes in which the appetite
is abundantly gratified. For the reason that man is more
than an animal, therefore, to increase, or to merely preserve,
the numbers of any society, it is necessary that there exist an
effective desire of offspring?
This last in some respects coincides with the effective desire
of accumulation, since if a man desire offspring he will
generally effectively desire the means of supporting them
[and advancing their position in the world]. But it is, never-
1 [See the article in the Economic Journal for the causes which Rae assigns
for this social degeneration.]
2 [The reader may be surprised at first sight that in this summary Rae makes
no mention of man's need for food, seeing that in so far as he is an animal,
that is a manifest requirement. The reason for the omission is that Rae is
dealing here primarily with the specific principles of human propagation, not
with their combination with other principles ("diminishing returns," "in-
vention," and the like) which have to do with wealth production. In other
words, throughout this Article he is concerned with setting forth not the com-
plete doctrine of the actual multiplication of the human species, but with the
pure theory of population itself.]
OF POPULATION 357
theless, regulated by different principles. These are mainly
certain sentiments pervading the society, and which we may
term instincts of Society. There is great difficulty in assign-
ing a cause for these instincts, much the same as that we
experience in accounting for the instincts proper of animals.
\Vf may rest on this without going farther, that in any parti-
cular species of animal and in any particular society, they con-
duce to their respective well-being in some particular phase of
their existence. 1
[But though in consequence of having been " hammered
into the race," these social instincts respecting population
are relatively permanent, they may, nevertheless, change.
And thus it comes about that we tread on dangerous
ground whenever we preach Malthusianism to any people.]
The peculiar nature of the human mind, rather excited to
action by motives, than passively operated on by them, and
moulding, therefore, its energies to suit the course it adopts,
sions a difference between phenomena influenced by it
and all others. Hence, according to the preponderating
motive, and the course of action followed, the same powers
and principles take opposite directions, and the will is able to
draw to its purposes and make allies of those which would
seem naturally opposed to it.
Thus in an intelligent and moral community, the vanity of
the mother is gratified in the well-being of the child, and she
prides herself in the proofs of her having been an affectionate
and careful parent. In a vain and dissipated community, on
the other hand, she would be ashamed of devoting her atten-
tion to the homely and unostentatious cares to which solicitude
for the welfare of offspring prompts. In the one case vanity
excites parental affection, in the other it stifles it. The move-
ment of the mind, in these instances, is somewhat analogous to
that of those balances, in which the poise, if in the least inclin-
; o one side or the other, hurries it down with a rapid and
continually increasing preponderance.
1 [Rae believed that the strenuous warfare in which for many centuries the
northern races of Europe were engaged, produced in them strong " instincts of
society " respecting the desire for offspring and the sanctity of marriage,
which still persist though threatened by modern conditions.]
358 APPENDIX
This proneness in humanity to advance or recede with
a speed accelerated by the subjugation of opposing motives,
helps to afford an explanation of what I conceive to be one
of the main causes of the decay of states.
[In the Article in the Economic Journal mentioned above, Rae goes more
extensively, than in this brief outline, into the nature and causes of what he
calls the "instincts of society" touching matters of marriage and procreation.
He develops there at some length the idea that the effective desire of offspring
depends not only upon individual psychology (as we ordinarily set bounds to
that order of facts), but also upon a general hopeful, optimistic outlook on life
pervading the whole social group. When a society gets on the downward
road, and its members feel a sense of depression and lack of self-respect, men
cease to breed. Under such conditions there is no agreement between material
circumstances and the propagation of the species. The effective desire of
offspring means, of course, not merely the desire to bring children into the
world, but the taking satisfaction in them, and the desire to rear them to
maturity. On these points, and generally on the whole subject of the theory
of population, powerful support is afforded Rae by Bagehot in his Economic
Studies.
In one particular, it seems to the Editor, Rae is not altogether correct ; and
that is in the position he takes here and elsewhere with respect to the relation
between the principle of the effective desire of offspring and the principle of
the effective desire of accumulation. They may be often opposed to each
other. In a healthful society, indeed, for general sociological reasons, both
will be strong ; and in a sick society, on the other hand, both will be weak.
But in a society which is neither wholly well or wholly sick (as is the state of
most societies), a strong effective desire of accumulation with many individuals,
or with certain sections of the society, may go along with a weak effective
desire of offspring, and vice versa. Rae seems to have been led into this
position, involving some degree of error, through his disposition to over
emphasize social solidarity for the purpose of getting strong contrasts, as
wholes, between the different communities.
But however this may be, it is certain that we cannot dogmatize for all
times and places and classes in respect to population, in the Malthusian fashion.
And it is also clear that in the principle of the effective desire of offspring we
have the true centre of gravity, so to speak, of this complex and difficult
subject, the starting point for fresh and more fruitful studies.]
AETICLE VII.
OF THE DOCTRINE OF LAISSEZ FAIRS, WITH SPECIAL
REFERENCE TO THE OPERATIONS OF THE LEGISLATOR
IN BRINGING THE ARTS OF FOREIGN COUNTRIES TO
HIS OWN.
WHEN men unite in large societies, they cannot each take
an active part in what concerns the common good. They
are obliged to delegate their individual powers and rights
to act, in things relating to it, to several, or to one. This
body of men, or this man, acting and making laws for the
supposed advantage of the whole, may properly be termed
the legislator. It is, therefore, the capacities and powers of
the whole, as far as they make one, turned to this sphere
of action, and designated by this term, that we have now
to consider.
" Man is generally considered by statesmen and projectors,
as the materials of a sort of political mechanics. Projectors
disturb nature in the course of her operations on human
affairs ; and it requires no more than to let her alone and
give her fair play in the pursuit of her ends, that she may
establish her own designs." " Little else is requisite to carry a
state to the highest degree of opulence from the lowest bar-
barism but peace, easy taxes, and a tolerable administration of
justice ; all the rest being brought about by the natural course
of things. All governments which thwart this natural course,
which force things into another channel, or which endeavor to
arrest the progress of society at a particular point, are un-
natural, and to support themselves are obliged to be oppressive
and tyrannical." 1
1 Account of the Ltfe and Writings of Dr. Smith, by Dugald Stewart, j>. 104.
360 APPENDIX
The principle [of economic politics] here set forth by Adam
Smith, though not formally announced in the Wealth of
>ns, runs, nevertheless, through the whole work, and in
its particular application to this science, forms the most
important of the conclusions to which his [purely economic]
reasonings tend. It is very frequently, also, expressly
brought forward by the supporters of his opinions, as an
argument against the interference of the legislator, and of
all those they employ, none perhaps, is more popular, or
has had greater influence in giving currency to the system.
A brief examination of its merit may not, then, form an
improper introduction to the particular subject of this book.
In strict philosophical accuracy, the whole of every political
system is certainly natural. Every political system must be
allowed to have proceeded from the operation through long ex-
tended time, of the things without, and the things within man,
acting as the powers and principles which nature has given
them, cause them to act. Every such system has many parts,
but they all belong to a great whole, and from their action
and reaction on each other the movements of that whole pro-
ceed. It seems not, therefore, to me, that we can take any of
those parts separate from the others, and with propriety say,
that it acts in opposition to the designs of nature, for that
cannot well be said to be in opposition to the designs of
nature, or to thwart her operations, which proceeds from prin-
ciples that she herself has established. Least of all can states-
men be taken separate from the rest of the frame of society,
and the actions they generate considered as unnatural, or
operating contrary to the order of things which nature has
established, for, to speak in the general, they are all moulded
after the form and character of their time and nation, and
instead of giving laws to the age, must rather be regarded by
the philosopher as emanations of its genius, and organs by
which its voice is uttered. Were the whole present race
of politicians swept from the earth, so little essential difference
would there be between them and their successors, that the
change hence resulting to human affairs could not, probably,
be traced a century afterwards. Napoleon, when speaking on
this subject to one of his generals, is somewhere reported
OF LAISSEZ FAIRE 361
to have expressed himself in nearly the following terms.
" We are apt to think that we have done much more than
we really have. It is the march of events that has made
us, and makes us, what we are. Had you and I never
existed, our places would have been held by others, and
were we now to cease to exist, the blank would be so filled as
not to be perceptible : " It must be allowed that this was
with justice said of himself, even by such a man. Already
we perceive that all the apparently mighty changes, refer-
able to his personal agency, were rather undulations on the
surface of the tide of human affairs, than alterations in its
course. 1
When we speak of the course of the operations of nature on
human affairs, philosophical accuracy would, I think, imply a
reference to the whole course, and all the springs and prin-
ciples, that actuate and guide it. These springs and principles,
discordant and jarring as they may appear, may, nevertheless,
have been so adjusted by the hand of nature, as to have a
tendency gradually to bring the whole system nearer and
nearer perfection and happiness,
" From seeming evil still educing good,
And better thence again, and better still,
In infinite progression."
This is a pleasing and no improbable theory, but, in this view
of the subject, it is the tendency of the whole of these springs
and principles that we have to consider, not some taken apart
from others. Indeed, if we reason analogically, concerning
the apparent action of these different springs and principles, so
far i'rom its appearing probable that the direct interference of
the legislator in endeavoring to give an advantageous direc-
tion to the course of the national industry, in its efforts
i the production of wealth, is a principle unlikely to
further that production, the presumption rather is, that it
will farther it.
To perceive this, it is necessary particularly to attend to
the distinction which Adam Smith makes between nature and
art as applied to the progress of human affairs. When we say,
1 [These last statements seem to go badly with Rae's doctrine of invention.]
362 APPENDIX
a thing is produced by art, we mean, that it is the result of
the agency of man, designedly directed to its production.
When we say, a thing is produced by nature ; we mean
that it is produced either without the agency of man, or, if by
his agency, without its being his intention to produce that,
which he, nevertheless, produces. Thus the fruit, which a tree
cultivated with care in an orchard yields, is an artificial pro-
duction, that yielded by another growing spontaneously in
some wild, is a natural production. A path between two
points marked out by rule and line is artificial. A footpath
formed by the mere unconstrained passing of many people
from one point to another, is natural, because, though equally
with the former the work of man, it is not designedly formed
by him. In this case it was his intention merely to pass from
place to place, not to form a path by so passing. It is in this
latter sense, that the production of national wealth is said to
be the work of nature. It is said to be the intention of each
individual in a nation, to advance merely his own wealth, and
the tendency which the actions of all the individuals in a
nation have to advance the sum of the national opulence, as it
is said to make no part of their motives to action, is esteemed
a work of nature, in the same manner as we may esteem
a footpath, formed by the continual passing of people over
some moor or heath, to be the work of nature. According to
this view of the subject, it is the legislator alone, who can, of
design, act with the view to advance the national opulence. It
is held, however, that as this interference of the legislator dis-
turbs the course which events would otherwise have taken, it
acts in opposition to the course of nature, and, therefore, that
the presumption is that it will be injurious. On the contrary,
I hold, that a just analogy would rather lead us to infer that
it will be beneficial.
It must be acknowledged that when man acts most success-
fully, it is thus that he does act. He never, indeed, seeks to
conquer nature otherwise than by obeying her, but his aim,
nevertheless, always is to conquer her. By observing the
order of events, he acquires the power of changing that order.
He does so, by that which distinguishes him from other
animals, the reasoning faculty, which so directed we term art
OF LAISSEZ FAIRE 363
and without the aid of which so directed, we scarce attain
any object.
But though art and nature are thus put in opposition to
each other, the form of expression is more popular than
correct. Were the changes which man every where produces
on the course of events, contrary to the designs of nature, we
may rest satisfied that she would not have given him powers
sufficient to effect them. What we call a conquering or
governing of nature, is to be held, in a more enlarged and
truer sense, an acting in obedience to her designs ; and man,
as a reasoning animal is rather to be considered as an instru-
ment in her hands, through which she effects much of that
change in the order of events, and consequent progress from
good to better, that we may fairly hope is going on, than
as a separate agent acting in opposition to her. In this
sense, all art may be said to be nature, as in another sense
all nature may be said to be art. 1
Is it then a thing to be assumed, a priori, as next to
demonstrable, that art, the art of the legislator, cannot operate
so as to advance the prosperity of nations ? That, of all
the springs and principles actuating the movement of societies,
it is the only one powerless to do good, or whose power can
no otherwise be advantageously exerted than in checking its
own propensity to act ? That though in every other depart-
ment of human action it is called on to lead, yet here it must
impose chains on itself and sit still ? That though every
where else nature willingly submits herself to its government,
nay, seems to court it, yet here she commands it to rest a
mere spectator, beholding her " working out her own ends in
her own way ? "
The presumption, it seems to me, would rather be, that,
though neither here nor elsewhere can man in wisdom oppose
1 [In the words of Edmund Burke, " Art is man's nature " ; or, as another
has expressed it, "man is the executive organ of nature."
All this may be fully admitted and yet bring us no nearer the answer to
the practical question, how much beside maintaining simple law and order
(setting up the "common Judge," in Locke's phrase) had the State in general
better undertake to do ? This is mainly not a question of economics but of
politics; and it is not answered in the least by argument* drawn from
analogy.]
364 APPENDIX
nature, yet here, as elsewhere, he is called on to direct her
operations. That the result of a successful inquiry into the
nature of wealth, would terminate in affording the means of
exposing the errors that legislators had committed from not
attending to all the circumstances connected with the growth
of that wealth, whose progress it had been their aim to
advance, and would so teach them, not that they ought to
remain inactive, but how they may act safely, and advantage-
ously ; and that thus, it would maintain the analogy running
through the whole of man's connexion with the trains of events
going on about him, the course of which he governs by ascer-
taining exactly what it is. That here, as elsewhere, his advance
in knowledge would show him his power, not his impotence.
According to the view of the nature of stock, and of the
causes generating and adding to it, which has been given in
the preceding book, it would seem that its increase is
advanced :
I. By whatever promotes the general intelligence and
morality of the society ; and that, consequently, the moral
and intellectual education of the people makes an important
element in its progress :
II. By whatever promotes invention ;
1. By advancing the progress of science and art within the
community ;
2. By the transfer from other communities of the sciences
and arts there generated :
III. By whatever prevents the dissipation in luxury, of any
portion of the funds of the community.
A full investigation of the modes in which the legislator
may promote the increase of the stock of the community,
would comprehend an examination of the manner in which
he may operate in these several particulars, of the rules neces-
sary for him to observe in each case, and an enumeration of
instances, in which, according as his efforts have been judici-
ously or injudiciously exerted, he has succeeded or failed in
his enterprises.
When we examine the arts practised by the members of
any of the numerous societies, among whom the surface of the
OF LAISSEZ FAIRE 365
earth is divided, we find that there are very few which have
arisen among themselves. 1 Unless in some rare instances, they
have been all brought from abroad. Inventions appearing at
various points in their rude elementary state, have gradually
spread themselves far and wide, and, as they have spread,
have improved. These passages from place to place, seem
to have been generally brought about by violent causes by
wars, internal disturbances, and revolutions. But, as society
assumes a more settled form, it is to be hoped that reason
will rise superior to force, and that changes produced by
violence will diminish ; that wars and tumults will become less
tiv. [iient, or will altogether cease, and that thus a great portion
of the evils which have afflicted humanity will be removed.
I>ut if the direct evils brought about by the reign of violence,
be removed by the ascendency of reason over passion, must
the indirect good also produced by it be abandoned ? or, is
it not the place of the intellectual part of our nature, watching
in this, as in other instances, the progress of events, so to
influence that progress, as that the good may be brought to
pass, the evil prevented ?
The answer to these questions is, I conceive, too obvious to
require a formal enunciation. If this be the case, it would
not seem necessary to recommence a discussion concerning
the apparent propriety of assistance being in many instances
given by the legislator to the passage of the useful arts from
country to country. This, as a general practical conclusion,
must be granted. The question again resolves itself into par-
ticulars, and the investigations of the political economist,
would seem to be confined to the tracing out, from the
principles of his science, rules determining when the passage of
any art is practicable, and when the benefits derived from it
will exceed, or fall short of the necessary expense of effecting
the passage. It is not my intention to attempt a full discus-
sion of these various particulars. It will be sufficient for the
object in view, to enumerate the general advantages which such
-fers produce, and to state some of the chief circumstances
favorable, and some of the others adverse to their success.
'[See "The Transplantation of Arts and Institutions," Appendix to the
volume of Cunningham's We*terti Civilization.]
366 APPENDIX
When these measures are completely successful, that is,
when the commodity, the product of the art in question, conies
to be made at the same cost in the country to which its manu-
facture is transferred, as in that from which it comes, or at
less cost than there, the advantages which the community
derives from them are various, but, as concerns commodities,
not luxuries, may be reduced to three heads.
1. The saving of the expense of transport of the foreign
commodity. This, as is shown elsewhere, is often very
great. It may be remarked, too, that some articles are so
perishable, or so difficult of transport, that they cannot enter
into the system of exchange of two societies. They are pro-
duced, or may very easily be produced in the progress of the
construction and exhaustion of other instruments, but from
its being found very difficult or impracticable to transport
them to places where they might be exchanged for valuable
commodities, they want the whole, or a great part of the
utility they would there possess. A farmer, for instance, in
the interior of some great agricultural country, say North
America, has almost always a large mass of commodities
which are nearly, or altogether, valueless to him. Great part
of the timber he cuts down he is obliged to burn up on the
ground, and much of the produce of his orchard, of his dairy,
and of his poultry yard and garden, is either entirely, or in a
great measure, lost. No little part of the direct produce of
the farm, is also lost. His working cattle are idle for weeks
or months in the course of the year, and any superabundance
of the more bulky articles, such as turnips, potatoes, oats,
or hay, lies nearly useless on his hands. When a manu-
facturing village is established in his neighbourhood, all such
productions become valuable, and are transferred to the
artisan, and master manufacturer, as returns for the products
of their art. The pine of the forest goes to build their
houses, the maple, the birch, and the walnut to make furni-
ture for them, all potatoes and other vegetables of the sort,
that can be spared, are consumed by them as articles of
food, the working cattle get employed at all times, and there
are none of the returns of the industry of the agriculturist,
but find a ready market. The advantages hence resulting
OF LAISSEZ FAIRE 36T
to the parts of the country where the new art fixes itself,
may be estimated by observing the great rise in the value
and rent of land which follows it. We have also a good
measure of them, in the difference between these in the
neighbourhood of manufacturing towns and villages, and in
places distant from them.
The direct effect, therefore, of these general and partial
improvements, is to carry instruments, generally or partially
throughout the community, to orders of quicker return, and so
increase the absolute capital of the society. 1
2. They have also a large indirect effect in carrying instru-
ments to orders of quicker return, by stimulating invention,
and diminishing the propensity to servile imitation. Every
useful art is so connected with many, or with all others, that
whatever renders its products more easily attainable, facilitates
the operations of a whole circle of arts, and introduces change
the great agent in producing improvements under the most
favorable form. Thus the recent improvements in the iron
manufacture, have in Great Britain had no inconsiderable share in
effecting the general improvement in the mechanical arts which
h;iN there taken place. Arts, too, as we have seen, when
brought together pass into one another, and thus also improve-
ments in old arts are produced, or new arts generated. Even
their very existence in any society gives a powerful stimulus to
the ingenuity of its members. This has been well noticed by
Mr. Hamilton : " To cherish and invigorate the activity of the
Inn nan mind, by multiplying the objects of enterprise, is not
among the least considerable of the expedients by which the
wealth of a nation may be promoted. Even things in them-
selves not positively advantageous, sometimes become so, by their
tendency to provoke exertion. Every new scene which is
opened to the busy nature of man, to rouse and exert itself, is
the addition of a new energy to the general stock of effort.
1 [The foregoing seems to be the basis for an argument for " internal improve-
ments " rather than for protection. Undoubtedly a community is held back
economically by lack of "power of association," and this last depends chiefly
<>n means of transportation. But so far as products of domestic agriculture
cannot be exported by reason of excessive cost of transportation, this very cir-
cumstance constitutes indirectly a natural protection for manufacture*.]
368 APPENDIX
" The spirit of enterprise, useful and prolific as it is, must
necessarily be contracted or expanded in proportion to the
simplicity or variety of the occupations and productions which
are to be found in a society. It must be less in a nation of
mere cultivators than in a nation of cultivators and merchants,
less in a nation of cultivators and merchants, than in a nation
of cultivators, artificers, and merchants." l
3. The supply of any commodities which one society is in
the habit of receiving from another and independent society, is
liable to be suddenly interrupted by wars, or other causes.
Hence arises [not infrequently] great waste of the resources of
the community. In many cases the whole system of instru-
ments it possesses is at once disjointed, and it is long before the
society recovers from the shock. The deficiency is at last
supplied, it may be in a more effective manner than before,
but in the interim there is great waste. Communities depen-
dent on others for the supply of commodities for which they
cannot readily find substitutes, must [therefore] necessarily,
every now and then, be subjected to great diminution of their
funds from such causes. There are few extensive wars that
do not furnish instances of it. It is probable that the absolute
loss so caused to the present United States, from the interrup-
tion of their intercourse with Great Britain, at the commencement
of the war of the revolution, equalled the whole expense of that
war. The loss which many of the continental nations experi-
enced from the sudden interruption to the supply of British
manufactures, during the progress of the war against Napoleon,
was also excessive. Great Britain herself, on the same occasion,
suffered very severely from being at once deprived of the supply
of materials necessary to many branches of her industry. Thus
the cutting off the supply of Baltic and Norwegian timber, was
for some years very sensibly felt by her.
It is no doubt true, that, on such occasions, the necessity
which arises to procure substitutes for the commodities which
are deficient, largely stimulating ingenuity, often ultimately
produces real benefit. Wars and similar interruptions to inter-
course, as has been repeatedly observed, are, in fact, one of the
chief agents by which the arts have been made to pass from
1 Works, Vol. I. Report on Manufactures.
OF LAISSEZ FAIRE 369
country to country. But the same benefits might have been
produced by the gradual operations of the legislator, without
the sacrifice in this way required ; and it is the business of
reason, watching events, to separate the good from the evil, and
to search for plans of obtaining the one, and avoiding the
other.
But, while the legislator is called on to act, he is also called
on to act cautiously, and to regulate his proceedings by an
attentive consideration of the progress of events. He is never
justifiable in attempting to transfer arts yielding utilities from
foreign countries to his own, unless he have sufficient reason to
conclude that they will ultimately lessen the cost of the com-
modities they produce, or are of such a nature, that the risk of
waste to the stock of the community, from a sudden interrup-
tion to their importation from abroad, is sufficiently great to
warrant the probable expense, both of the transfer and of
maintaining the manufacture at home. It is his business first
to ascertain these points, and to regulate his proceedings
accordingly.
When there are circumstances particularly unfavorable to the
practice of the art, and no countervailing circumstances parti-
cularly favorable to it, the first introduction of it must always
cost the society high, and the subsequent maintaining of it will
in all probability be a burden on the common industry and
stock. Among unfavorable circumstances may be noted a
strength of the effective desire of accumulation, less than that
of a foreign country, and instruments consequently remaining at
orders of quicker return. This is a circumstance lying beyond
the reach of the legislator, and which he cannot hope to change.
It then there are no other counteracting favorable circum-
< es, the art cannot be transferred and preserved, but at
great and continual expense. Examples of injudicious conduct
oi i he legislator from inattention to this particular have been
not unfrequent. As an instance, may be noted the attempts of
Louis XIV to make France a maritime and commercial nation.
To do so, it only required that the principle of accumulation
should have existed in sufficient strength among the people of
ice, to carry them to the construction of instruments of the
same orders as were formed in England, and other maritime
2A
370 APPENDIX
and commercial nations. The French at that time had ships
and commerce, and had their accumulative principle been so
strong as to lead them to construct instruments returning as
slowly as those formed by the English and Dutch, their com-
merce and navy would easily have rivaled those of these
nations. The attempt of the British, in some instances, to
supplant the Dutch in their fishery, was liable to a similar
objection.
Among circumstances particularly favorable to the transfer
of a foreign art, may be noted the raw materials of the manu-
facture existing within the territory of the society in abundance.
The acquisition of the art in this case saves the expense of a
double transport. On this account, the bringing the woollen
manufacture to England was a very happy measure.
Great strength of the accumulative principle, is also another
particularly favorable circumstance. This rendered the efforts
of the English in the beginning of last century, to acquire many
foreign manufactures, prudent and successful.
The legislator effects his purposes by premiums for success-
ful individual imitations of the foreign article ; by general boun-
ties on the home manufacture ; or by duties on that imported
from abroad. Of these, premiums take so little out of the
common funds, that their amount forms an item too small to
enter into the calculation, in questions of national policy.
They are useful as testing the practicability of the transfer.
That having been done, it having been made sufficiently appa-
rent that nothing prevents the branch of industry in question
being established, but the difficulties attending new under-
takings, the want of skilled labor, and a sufficiently accurate
knowledge of the properties of the materials to be employed in
the formation of the new instruments, it is then proper to
proceed to direct and general encouragements by bounties or
duties. In this way real capital, and healthy enterprise are
directed to the art, the difficulties attending its introduction
overcome in the shortest possible space, and the commodities
yielded by it are produced at less outlay, and afforded at a less
price than that, at which they were before imported.
It appears, therefore, that the legislator can effectively
OF LAISSEZ FAIRE 371
advance the general stock of a society, by effecting the passage
of the useful arts from foreign countries to his own.
To this position several objections may be made, of which
some are founded on the nature of things, others arise almost
entirely from the ambiguity of language.
It may, probably, occur to the reader, that I have con-
sidered the legislator as always endeavoring to act for the
good of the society, and capable of understanding what is
for its good, whereas, in reality, the individual or individuals
in whom the legislative power is vested, very often neither
understand what is for the general welfare, nor act so as
to promote it. This objection carries us to the nature of laws
and government, and can, therefore, be only very generally
answered.
I would observe, then, that though in other matters, as in
projects of distant conquest, or in intrigues for changing the
constitution, the legislator may act in opposition to the
common interests, yet, speaking generally, in all his pro-
ceedings relative to the wealth of the community, it is his
aim to act in accordance with them. In despotic govern-
ments this is the case, because there the legislator looks
on the wealth of the people as his own ; in free govern-
ments because in them his interests are identified with theirs.
It may be that he does not adopt judicious measures for the
purpose, but if so, it is his judgment, not his will that is
in fault. 1
Again, it must be granted that the perfection, or imperfec-
tion of action of the power invested with legislative authority,
depends chiefly on the prevalence or defect, of intelligence and
public spirit throughout the community. Every government
rests on opinion. Whenever the majority are thoroughly con-
vinced that they would derive advantages from a change in the
mstitution, or in the person or persons administering it, the
time of a revolution approaches. It is only from the members
of any society not perceiving what would be for their good, or
not believing they can find among them men sufficiently
honest or intrlli^.-iit to execute what would promote it, that
the legislative power can be greatly or permanently vicious or
1 [Compare Article I. p. 267.]
372 APPENDIX
defective. There is always a close connexion between the
nature of the people and of the government. Despotism and
anarchy imply a general debasement in the intellectual and
moral powers ; freedom and order, an elevation of them. The
more despotic the government the more dependent on the will
or caprice of a single person, the more it is subject to error in
all legislative measures. The more despotic the government,
however, the less also the intelligence, and the greater the
selfishness, and consequently the vanity of the governed. The
less, also, the inventive power, and the advance in science and
art, and the greater the addiction to luxury. But the less the
comparative advance in science and art, and the greater the
addiction to luxury, the greater facility is given to such opera-
tions of the legislator as have for their aim to increase the
wealth of the community. The farther any society is behind
others in a knowledge of the useful arts, the greater the
number of new arts that may be introduced ; the larger the
amount of luxury that prevails in it, the greater the revenue
that may be raised by taxation without interfering with indi-
vidual income. Hence, speaking generally, if legislators in
despotic governments, were other circumstances equal, would
be more prone to go wrong ; they have there so great facility
in acting, that they have greater chance to go right.
A reference to examples will make this apparent. If, for
an instance of one of the most ignorant and slavish of existing
societies, we turn to some one of the islands of the South Sea,
it will be allowed that a legislator of intelligence and persever-
ance might there effect much good by introducing among them
the arts of men farther advanced in the career of improvement.
Though we cannot expect to find such a legislator there, one
would be inclined to augur favorably of the effects likely to
result from the unskilful efforts of even any of their barbarous
chiefs, directed to so praiseworthy an object. We should not
conceive he wasted the resources of his country, by turning
part of the national funds to such purposes. Of extensive
countries where unmitigated slavery and despotism prevail,
Egypt is perhaps most under the eye of Europeans. It is not,
however, commonly believed by them, that the projects of its
present ruler for the introduction into it of modern science and
OF LAISSEZ FAIRE 373
art, are inconsistent with the dictates of sound policy. Facts
would demonstrate the fallacy of any such supposition. Errors,
no doubt, may have been, and may be committed, but the good
assuredly overbalances the evil. The revolution wrought in
Russia by Peter the Great, is another instance of the same
sort. In such cases the power of the legislator to effect bene-
ficial changes is so great, that even his most blundering efforts
are seldom altogether successless. A fruitful soil yields large
returns, even to a very unskilful husbandman. If we pass
from them to governments, of which freedom, intelligence, and
public spirit, are the moving powers, we find there, that though
the capacity to produce good is diminished, the liability to
error is also diminished. It were folly in the legislature of the
United States, to imagine itself capable of giving an impulse so
sudden and great, to the resources of the country, as that
brought about in Egypt by the present Pacha, or in Russia by
the first Peter. It has the advantage, however, of being much
less liable to error. Every important measure there agitated,
before it can be adopted, is subjected to the scrutiny of great
numbers of intelligent and well informed individuals, stimu-
lated alike by their regard to their country and to themselves,
to trace out with accuracy its future operations and effects.
By this means the greatest security, of which the nature
of human affairs admits, is given against the adoption of
impolitic or hurtful schemes. With such cautions, the legis-
lator may with prudence undertake a series of measures,
that, under other circumstances, were of very doubtful
expediency.
In one sort of government; therefore, the facility of action
gives warrant to act, and in another the probable freedom from
error. In both it is the part of the legislator to act, but to act
in conformity to the laws arising from the constitution which
nature has given to man and to matter. In doing so instead
nn.i: in opposition to nature, he fills his natural place in a
system established by natura In both, also, it is the part of
the inquirer into the principles of politics, to endeavor to
thiuw light along the path of the legislator, not vainly to
attempt to persuade him, that an insuperable obstacle blocks
374 APPENDIX
Finally, concerning this objection, it may be observed, that
it refers to casual ills connected with what is in itself an
acknowledged good, and is of a character altogether different
from those springing from the doctrines of the followers of
Adam Smith. They hold up legislative interference as neces-
sarily and essentially evil.
The second objection I have to note, as resulting from the
nature of things themselves, is the possible evil effects of an
excessive revenue accruing to the legislator, from protecting
and encouraging the industry of the society and turning into
his own coffers as much as possible of the amount otherwise
dissipated in luxuries. A superabundant revenue in the hands
of the legislator, though directly a great good, is sometimes,
indirectly a great evil. It may enable him, without any
expense to the society, to carry on projects that must otherwise
have pressed heavily on its resources, but it also places an
instrument of great power in his hands, and one which, in cer-
tain circumstances, he may turn to very pernicious ends. It
may have an effect similar to that which the discovery of the
western continent produced on Spain. The direct effects of
the riches that flowed in from the new world, were mightily to
increase the power of the Spanish monarchy. Indirectly, how-
ever, their effects were to corrupt the court and the nobles, and
to spread wide, through the higher classes, a dissolute, and yet
a mercenary spirit. The objection, however, only refers at all
to countries where there are no public burdens to absorb the
surplus public revenue. Is is, consequently, totally inappli-
cable to Great Britain. It also chiefly refers to countries where
there are no efficient checks to abuses of the legislative or
executive powers. This, too, it may be observed, is an objec-
tion which, as far as I know, has not been urged by modern
political economists.
The objections, which have their foundation in the views of
the subject presented by Adam Smith, and which are urged by
his present followers, depend mainly on the nature of words,
and the sophisms produced by a generalization from names
instead of things from preconceived notions which verbally,
but not really, embrace the phenomena. Terms, and so, also,
reasonings, fitly applied to the operations of individuals in the
OF LAISSEZ FAIRE 375
preservation, enjoyment, and increase of wealth, are transferred
immediately to societies, and the [economic] rules and principles
which hold good in the one, are assumed to be exactly appli-
cable to the other. If what is thus taken for granted be
admitted, farther discussion is unnecessary, for the truth of the
proposition to be proved, is implied in the terms in which it is
enunciated. It has been my aim, throughout the preceding
pages, to expose the fallacy of these assumptions, and, conse-
quently, of the arguments resting on them.
[The position of the upholder of laissez faire is precisely that " the
nature of human affairs," respecting things political, does not admit of
sufficient "security" against grave abuses in complicated business, un-
necessarily undertaken by government. As an editorial writer has recently
expressed it "A great gulf is fixed between the theory and practice of
civil government. Theoretically, the legislature expresses the will of the
people. As a matter of fact the laws enacted have all sorts of origin. Host
of them are carried through in the interest of a small number of persons."
That this applies in a special degree to protection, even under the purest
and most free governments, is due to the fact that "every important measure"
of that sort "resolves itself into particulars" about which few people, except
the interested beneficiaries, inform themselves and take action. But we have
before us a broader question than that of protective tariffs alone.
On both sides of this controversy of individualism versus collectivism (I
have in mind now especially the opening paragraphs of this article), there is
the fallacy of metaphor. " Nature " is personified by one side and represented
as doing things. The idealized abstraction of the all-wise " legislator " (in
recent literature called "the State") is set up on the other side. But
11 fact many men of many minds who do things, ordinary men always
possessing some knowledge and some good will, but also always prone to
intellectual and moral error. The question is, by which general plan can
society best get the work of the world done : is it by the relatively inflexible,
preconceived, centralized methods of the governing power of organized civil
society ; or by the comparatively flexible, spontaneous, decentralized methods
vidiiiils and voluntary associations of individuals? Is it, in short, by
nipatient plan of compulsory regimentation; or by the slow-moving
IIH tlirxlless method of freedom?
ie inquirer into the principles of politics" has indeed the high office
to throw such "light" as he may possess "along the path" of the many-
beaded legislator. It is his duty to say not pleasant things, but true things.
Not at all in the spirit of a mere obstructionist, he may point out that certain
specific "ills" connected with "legislative interference" along many lines,
<t "casual" but permanent, and that they clearly outweigh the possible
44 acknowledged good " to be derived. And speaking generally, he may teach
376 APPENDIX
that no refined policy baaed ou the theory of economists, is ever likely to
be carried into practice under the conditions which obtain in government.
Such a policy, merging with other policies, is almost certain to be com-
promised completely out of shape. Only the private manager (with all his
short-comings) is eye-single to the economic, business-like execution of any
piece of work.
All this, and other aspects of this great subject, belong to an "order of
facts " with which Rae does not seem to have been at all acquainted. Clearly,
politics was his blind side. In these matters his great adversary was vastly
his superior.]
ARTICLE VIII.
OF THE SUPPOSED IDENTITY OF THE CAUSES GIVING
RISE TO INDIVIDUAL AND NATIONAL WEALTH. 1
PART I. WHEN ASSUMED AS A SELF-EVIDENT TRUTH.
PART II. WHKX DEDUCED FROM AN INGENIOUS THEORY.
PART I.
WHEN wealth, considered in the general, is conceived to be a
tiling either so clear as to require no definition, or so simple as
to be fully grasped by any definition, two different and oppos-
ing systems naturally seem to arise concerning it.
The wealth of all the individuals in a state being, it may be
said, of necessity measured by the amount of the national
1 [The title of Rae's first " Book " in the original edition was " Individual
and National Interests are not Identical." The idea accords with his leading
concept on the side of man's association with his fellow men, which is that
the sociological principle of the "social and benevolent affections" takes
precedence over the purely economic principle of individual profit. The
social virtues of the individual, embodying the "instincts of society,"
maximise prosperity through stimulating all the fundamental productive
forces, and further the real, long-run, economic interests of the individual
as well as those of the society.
On the other hand, it is certain that the direct, short-sighted attempts
of individuals (actuated by " isolation of thought and feeling") to increase tin -ir
advantage, often miss their aim as regards the individual, and cause lorn
to the social body as a whole. (Compare Article V.) There is, therefore,
always room for efforts of society to compel its delinquent members to observe
their real, long-run interests. But the argument elaborated in this and the
foregoing Article, that organized civil society is itself called upon to play
the part of entrepreneur and be progress-maker in the realm of industry, is no
necessary part of Rae's general system of speculation.]
37S APPENDIX
wealth, whatever adds to the wealth of the nation must
increase the stocks of individuals. But it has always been found
that nations have become most wealthy when they have
engaged most extensively in commerce and manufactures. To
encourage commerce and manufactures by every possible
means, should, therefore, be the great aim of the legislator ;
and every enactment and regulation of his conducing to this
effect, as it cannot but tend to the increase of the general
funds, must ultimately add to the stocks of individuals.
This view of the matter leads directly to a system of unceasing
regulation and restraint.
Again, on the other hand, it may be said, that, as the
wealth of the nation is necessarily made up of the riches of
the various individuals in it, so the national wealth would
grow as each individual adds to the portion of it which he
possesses. But every restraint is a hindrance to a man's
acquiring wealth, and he always gains by evading it. As,
therefore, all interference on the part of the legislator, operates
as a restraint, he never in any case ought to interfere.
As the former view of the subject produces a system of
general regulation and restraint, this teaches the doctrine of
complete inaction on the part of the legislator, of the removal
of all restraint, and of perfect freedom of trade.
Both systems proceed on the assumption of the exact iden-
tity of public and private wealth ; of wealth, as it is the same
word, being always the same thing, whether applied to indi-
viduals or communities, and being in its increase and decrease
subjected in all cases to similar laws ; an assumption flowing
easily from the conception that its nature is very simple and
may without difficulty be apprehended.
The latter of these systems, that adopted by Adam Smith,
we might expect, would at present be most popular in Europe.
Institutions and forms very often endure after the circum-
stances that had originally called them forth have disappeared,
and when, consequently, their operation injuriously restrains
the movements of some new order of things. Such seems the
condition of most European kingdoms at present. The frame
of their existing constitutions and laws was moulded in remote
times, in ages of comparative barbarism and stern military rule,
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 379
and is, therefore, in many parts, unsuited to the circumstances
of the present period. It is perceived that a multitude of
abuses exist, and the efforts of the majority are directed to
detect, expose, and do away with them. The prejudices of
men of liberal minds and enlarged views, for even such men
have prejudices, run consequently, rather towards overthrowing
and rooting out, than to establishing and maintaining. A
system of political economy, the fundamental principles of
which inculcated the doctrine that every attempt of the ruler
to direct the industry of the community was injurious, and
that all laws having this tendency should be abrogated, fell in
with the current of public opinion and could not but draw to
itself a large body of zealous and able advocates. It is in this
temper that Mr. Bentham addresses its author. " On this
subject you ride triumphant, and chastise the impertinence of
kin 1^3 and ministers with a tone of authority, which it required
a courage like yours to venture upon, and a genius like yours
to warrant a man to assume." *
It may be remarked, also, that as the circumstances of
Europe, in remote ages, produced the former system, in the
present give popularity to the latter ; so in North America,
where a new form of government suited to the state which
society has there assumed, has been established, we might
expect, as is the case, that a medium would be taken between
the two extremes. 2
My main object, in this book, is to show that that notion of
the exact identity of the causes giving rise to individual and
national wealth, on which the reasonings and arguments of
Adam Smith all along depend, is erroneous, that consequently
<loctrines he has engrafted on it, cannot be thus maintained,
and are inconsistent with facts admitted by himself.
I have already observed that through every part of his work,
in i he conduct of all his reasonings and arguments, Adam
Smith blends together the consideration of the processes by
which the capitals of individuals and nations are increased, and
always treats of them as precisely identical. Sometimes this
1 Defence of Umry.
'[See "Note C" in the Appendix ]
380 APPENDIX
is assumed as a self-evident truth, sometimes it is a deduction
from an ingenious theory ; but, in one shape or other, it forms
the basis on which his whole system is built. If this simple
view of the subject be admitted as correct, it may very easily
be made to lead to the conclusions at which he is desirous of
arriving.
The axiom which he brings forward, that the capital of a
society is the same with that of all the individuals who com-
pose it, being granted, it follows that to increase the capitals
of all the individuals in a society is to increase the general
capital of the society. It seems, therefore, also to follow that
as every man is best judge of his own business and of the
modes in which his own capital may be augmented, so to
prevent him from adopting these modes is to obstruct him
in his efforts to increase his own capital, and, in so far as his
capital is a part of the general capital of the society, to check
the increase of that general capital; and hence, that, as all laws
for the regulation of commerce are in fact means by which the
legislator prevents individuals conducting their business as
they themselves would deem best, they must operate pre-
judicially on the increase of individual and so of general wealth.
In pursuance of the same idea, of the perfect identity of the
means by which individual and national capitals are increased,
the argument is thus further enforced. Accumulation is the
means by which individual capital is augmented. We know
very well that if any person spend as fast as he makes, he can
never get richer. Whatever his gains are he must save some
part of them, else he can never add to his capital. The
amount also of his savings for any period of time must measure
the addition, which, during that time he makes to his wealth.
As, therefore, the capital of a single individual is increased by
his continually accumulating and adding to it whatever he
saves out of his revenue, so the national capital, or the capital
of all the individuals in a nation, is increased by these indi-
viduals continually accumulating and adding to it what they
save out of their respective revenues. Hence whatever pre-
vents them from making the most of their respective capitals,
or drawing from them the largest revenue, in so far as it
deprives them of the power of laying past so large a portion of
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 381
that revenue as they otherwise would, must in a like propor-
tion diminish their individual accumulations, and conse-
quently the sum of all their accumulations, or the amount
added to the national capital. But all laws for the regulation
of commerce, and all encouragements given to particular
branches of industry, do in fact prevent individuals from turn-
ing their capitals into the channels which, but for these regu-
lations, they would prefer as offering the largest returns.
They must, therefore, it is said, to a certain extent, diminish
individual accumulation, and consequently, in an equal propor-
tion, the increase of national capital.
Viewing, then, the subject in this simple light, and taking
as undoubted truths the assumptions of our author, that
individual and national wealth increase in the same manner,
and that the manner in which individuals increase their
riches is by saving from their revenues, we would easily
arrive at the doctrine he inculcates, that as every man is
the best judge of his own interests, so he should be left
to pursue them in his own way, without the legislator at
all interfering with his operations, or pretending to aid or
t them.
This very simple view of the subject would, however, be
defective in two respects.
1. Though it is, in the general, true that individuals may
find some employment, by the prosecution of which they may
procure a revenue, and so, by saving from this revenue, acquire
wealth, or add to what they have before acquired, yet it seems
not so clear that it is by this means alone that nations advance,
or can advance, in the acquisition of wealth ; because it must
occur to us that materials on which the national industry may
be employed are to be provided, and often are or may be
want
-. It is not altogether correct to say that the sole means
which an individual employs to add to his capital, is the pro-
cess of saving from revenue. It is very evident he must first
this revenue, and that the amount he gains, and conse-
quently the amount he can save, must in general depend on
the talents and capacities he possesses for the prosecution of
the particular employment to which he devotes himself. As
382 APPENDIX
an inquiry, therefore, into the manner in which an individual
might most rapidly accumulate wealth, would in part resolve
itself into an examination of the modes by which he might
acquire the greatest perfection of knowledge, skill, dexterity,
and other talents and capacities, tending to the successful pro-
secution of his business ; so an inquiry into national wealth,
even supposing the process by which nations and individuals
add to their riches to be the same, must partly resolve itself
into an examination of the modes by which the knowledge,
skill, and dexterity of all the individuals in a nation, in
the various businesses and professions that may be carried
on in it, may be raised to the highest pitch.
These two circumstances render the subject more intricate,
than the first simple view we might be inclined to take of it,
would lead us to suspect. An attention to the operation of
either of them will be sufficient to show that that identity of
the interests of individuals and states, which is assumed
throughout the Wealth of Nations, is not a self-evident prin-
ciple. In the following observations, I shall, however, confine
myself to the former of them.
Individuals, it is very clear, in general, increase their
capitals by acquiring a larger portion of the common funds.
While one man is growing rich, another is becoming poor, and
the change produced, seems not so much a creation of wealth,
as a passage of it from one hand to another. These transfers
have been going on in all ages of the world and have existed
equally, in what has been called the advancing, the stationary,
and the declining stages of society. Everywhere this means
of acquiring wealth is open to individuals, and they every-
where avail themselves of it. Let any one in any country, in
Great Britain for instance, trace backwards for fifteen or
twenty years the mutations that have occurred in the fortunes
of the persons with whom he is acquainted, and he will find
that there are few, whose circumstances are not very much
changed from what they then were. Good conduct, good for-
tune, and frugality have made many rich who were then poor ;
imprudence, misfortune, prodigality have made many poor who
were then rich.
But while that man has thus been adding house to house,
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 383
and farm to farm, and this has been giving up one portion of
property after another, till he finds all he once possessed in the
hands of others, the whole mass of houses, lands and wealth,
has undergone but little alteration ; the national capital itself,
remains, comparatively, but little changed. It is not by thus
acquiring wealth previously in the possession of others, that
nations enrich themselves. But a very small part of the
capital of any community, can, I suspect, be accounted for, by
tracing its passage from any other community. Instead of one
nation growing rich, and another poor, we rather see many
neighbouring nations advancing at the same pace towards
prosperity and affluence, or declining equally, to misery and
want. As individuals seem generally to grow rich by
grasping a larger and larger portion of the wealth already in
unce, nations do so by the production of wealth that did
not previously exist. The two processes differ in this, that the
one is an acquisition, the other a creation.
Ex nihilo nihil fit. Nothing can spring out of nothing.
Every thing that exists must have a cause. As we do not see
that individuals increase their wealth by creating new wealth,
we do not think of inquiring how the riches of an individual
came to exist, but how they came into his possession. But as
we do not see how nations can increase their wealth, but by
creating new wealth, we naturally inquire, what are the causes
of the wealth of nations.
Adam Smith asserts, and as I think truly asserts, that these
causes are to be found in the improvement of the productive
powers of human labor. Men, and therefore nations, are said
rich or poor according to the degree in which they can
afford to enjoy the necessaries, conveniences, and amusements
of human life, lint as it is the annual labour of the nation
which supplies these necessaries, conveniences, and amuse-
ments ; so as this labor is well or ill directed, the supply
it affords must be great or small. The skill, dexterity, and
judgment with which labor is applied : that is, I presume, the
facility of the operations which it employs for executing its
ends, and the accuracy with which it conducts them, must
consequently mainly regulate the amount which it produces.
Thus the increase of the skill, dexterity, and judgment with
384 APPENDIX
which the national labor is applied, furnishes us with a cause
for the increased productive powers of that labor, and so for
the increase of the national wealth.
This account of matters will be found sufficiently to agree
with the ideas which the contemplation of their progress forces
on every one. When we are told that an individual this year
employs in agriculture double the capital which he employed
last year, the conception which most readily presents itself to
us is, that he now farms double the land which he then
farmed, owns double the number of horses, cattle, farming
utensils, etc. and has double the number of barns and other
necessary buildings. When we are told that a country has
double the agricultural capital which it had a century ago, we
cannot, of course, conceive that its farms are double the extent
they then were ; neither do we conceive that its farmers have
simply double the number of barns and other buildings, of
cattle, ploughs, harrows, and other farming utensils, which they
then had. We conceive a change in the mode in which its
fields are laid out and tilled, in the form and qualities of the
stock, in the construction of all the implements of husbandry,
in the size and arrangement of the barns and other buildings ;
and that through these changes the national agricultural labor
produces at least double the products it formerly did. It is
this change necessarily involved in our conception of the pro-
cess by which nations increase their capitals, and not necessarily
involved in the process by which individuals increase their
capitals, that constitutes the difference between them. 1
Though they are thus essentially different, there are never-
theless two points in which they agree. When estimated in
gold, silver, or any other instrument of exchange, the sum at
which the agricultural property presently possessed by the
individual would be rated, would be double that at which what
was formerly in his possession was rated. The sum, also, at
1 As here I merely aim at giving a very general view of the subject, I only
refer to what generally occurs. In this and some other instances the text does
not apply to new countries. Communities commonly occupy the same terri-
tories unchanged. The growth of such communities as increase by occupying
a larger and larger extent of territory, must be regulated in part by laws which
are exceptions to those that apply to the rest of mankind.
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 385
which the present agricultural property of the nation would be
rated, would be double that at which it was formerly rated.
The things, too, that so estimated formed the increase in both,
would have been produced by man : they would be his works.
But though two things may both be estimated as worth a sum
of money, and may both be works of man, it follows not that
tin. 1 principles which have produced them are perfectly similar.
The poem of Childe Harold cost the publisher a certain sum ;
so did the paper on which it was printed. They both, too,
were works of man, and required mental and corporeal energy
to produce them ; but we should not, therefore, say the prin-
ciples that produced them were precisely similar.
Within a few centuries the national capital of Great Britain
has increased tenfold. Could we imagine that we could tell
this fact to some one of the men of the olden time, waked from
the slumber of the tomb and raised up to us, we may suppose
he would ask how it could be ; how there could have been
produced so mighty a change ; or from whence so full a tide of
wealth could have flowed in upon us. But were we then
to take him abroad and show him the wonders and achieve-
ments of art with which the land is overspread ; the various
processes carried on in our manufactories and workshops ; the
scientific labors of the agriculturist ; the curious mechanism
with which the vast bulk of our ships is put together and
guided ; fire and water transformed into our obedient drudges,
excavating harbors and draining mines for us, carrying us over
the land with the speed of the wind, bearing us through the
ocean against tide and storm ; he would no longer wonder
whence the wealth was that he saw around, or that the land
yielded tenfold what it had done of old, though he might well
demand how the power had been acquired that had wrought so
great a change.
Were such a thing possible as we are thus imagining we can
scarce suppose that any one would be found to reply, "the
whole process is nothing extraordinary ; it is just the same as
you must have seen in your own days, when, by continual
parsimonious saving, an individual accumulated ten times the
capital he once had ; he began, perhaps, with one house, and
died owning ten." Such an assertion would evidently be absurd.
2 B
386 APPENDIX
Invention is the only power on earth, that can be said to
create. It enters as an essential element into the process of
the increase of national wealth, because that process is a crea-
tion, not an acquisition. It does not necessarily enter into the
process of the increase of individual wealth, because that may
be simply an acquisition, not a creation. The assumption,
therefore, that the two processes are perfectly similar is incor-
rect, and the doctrine which I have designated as that of the
identity of the interests of individuals and communities cannot
be thus established.
The ends which individuals and nations pursue, are different.
The object of the one is to acquire, of the other to create. The
means which they employ, are also different ; industry and
parsimony increase the capitals of individuals ; national wealth,
understood in its largest and truest sense, as the wealth of all
nations cannot be increased, but through the aid also of the
inventive faculty. Though each member of a community may
be desirous of the good of all, yet in gaining wealth, as he only
seeks his own good, and as he may gain it by acquiring a por-
tion of the wealth already in existence, it follows not that he
creates wealth. The community adds to its wealth by creating
wealth, and if we understand by the legislator the power acting
for the community, it seems not absurd or unreasonable that
he should direct part of the energies of the community towards
the furtherance of this power of invention, this necessary ele-
ment in the production of the wealth of nations.
In the following cases it would at least seem not improbable,
that the power of the legislator so directed, might be beneficial.
I. In promoting the progress of science.
II. In promoting the progress of art.
1. By encouraging the discovery of new arts.
2. By encouraging the discovery of improvements in the
arts already practised in the country.
3. By encouraging the discovery of methods of adapting arts
already practised in other countries, to the particular circum-
stances of the territory and community for which he legislates.
In the attainment of all these objects, the aid of the inven-
tive faculty is required. Our judgment of their propriety or
impropriety, as far as this is determined by their direct ten-
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 38T
dency to promote the wealth of the community, would seem to-
depend on two circumstances. 1. On the probability of their
success, and of this success enabling the industry of its mem-
bers to acquire with increased facility some of the necessaries,
conveniences, or amusements of life, the capacity for producing
which, measures the general revenue and riches. 2. On the
probability of the future wealth to be derived from this new
source, being sufficient to repay the expenditure of present
wealth necessary to open it up.
As far as any considerations, which I have as yet presented
to the reader, warrant us in forming a conclusion, it certainly
does appear not impossible, or unlikely, that there might be
instances in which the legislator might, with advantage to the
progress of the wealth of the community, direct the energies of
some of its members towards discoveries in all these different
departments of knowledge and action.
But in doing so, he always acts contrary to the doctrine which
teaches that he ought never to disturb the natural course of
events ; that is, the course which the efforts of individuals,
uninterfered with, by him, would give to these events. His
cy so directed, according to this doctrine, must be injurious ;
because, in every instance, it in part changes the direction, and
i 1 1 part retards the progress or the natural course of events. In
every such instance, he directs the industry of some of the
members of the society from gaining a revenue by the practice
of old arts and so accumulating capital, to the discovery either
of materials for new arts, or of means of adapting old ones to
new countries. By doing so, he takes from the national
revenue, and retards, consequently, the accumulation of the
nal capital.
This doctrine, as given by Adam Smith, is in general, blended
with theoretical principles afterwards to be considered. The
following is an abstract of it, in his own words, from different
ts of his system, separated from these principles.
" The capital of all the individuals in a nation is increased
in the same manner as that of a single individual, by their
continually accumulating and adding to it whatever they save
out of their revenue. 1 As the national capital is thus increaaed
1 Wealth of Natwnt, B. II. c. IV.
388 APPENDIX
by parsimony, so it is diminished by prodigality and miscon-
duct. The conduct of those whose expense just equals their
revenue, without either accumulating or encroaching, neither
increases nor diminishes it. It can seldom happen that the
circumstances of a great nation can be much affected by the
prodigality of individuals ; the profusion of some, being always
more than compensated by the frugality and good conduct of
others. Men are prompted to expense, by the desire of present
enjoyment, a passion only momentary and occasional. They
are prompted to save by the desire of bettering their condition,
a passion which comes with them from the womb, and never
leaves them till they go to the grave. In the whole course of
life of the greater part of men, therefore, though the principle
of expense prevails occasionally, yet the principle of frugality
predominates, and predominates very greatly." 1
" The principle exciting to frugality, the uniform, constant,
and uninterrupted effort of every man to better his condition,
produces both public and national, as well as private opulence,
and is frequently more than sufficiently powerful to counteract
the extravagance of government, and the greatest errors of
administration. Like the unknown principle of animal life, it
frequently restores health and vigor to the constitution, in spite,
not only of the disease, but of the absurd prescriptions of the
doctor. Alone and without any assistance, it is capable, not
only of carrying on the society to wealth and prosperity, but
of surmounting a hundred impertinent obstructions with which
the folly of human laws too often encumbers its operations." 2
The reader will perceive, that the whole force of these argu-
ments lies in the assumption, that the process of the increase of
national capital, is precisely the same as that of the increase of
individual capital.
The principle, therefore, of the identity of the interests of
nations and individuals is by no means a self-evident principle.
The identity of their interests can only follow from the identity
of the ends which they pursue ; but these ends being, as far as
we can see, identical only in name, and in reality not identical,
1 Wealth of Nations, B. II. c. III.
z ldcm, B. II. c. III. and B. IV. c. V.
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 389
the presumption rather is, that the means also by which they
are arrived at are not identical.
It seems to me, that it requires very little pausing upon the
examination of this principle to perceive its inconclusiveness as
an argument. It is a principle, nevertheless, which, like other
popular doctrines founded merely on the ambiguity of a word,
has been very much insisted on, and meets one in all variety of
shapes. On this account, the reader may perhaps excuse me,
for detaining him a little longer on the consideration of it, by
bringing before him a passage from our author, which may
serve to expose its unsoundness, by showing how easily it may be
made to lead to the most obvious fallacies. "The annual pro-
duce of the land and labor of England is certainly much greater
than it was more than a century ago at the restoration of
Charles II. It was certainly much greater at the restoration
than we can suppose it to have been about a hundred years
before, at the accession of Elizabeth. At this period, too, we
have reason to believe, the country was much more advanced
in improvement than it had been about a century before,
towards the close of the dissensions between the houses of
York and Lancaster. Even then it was probably in a better
condition than it had been at the Norman Conquest ; and at
the Norman Conquest, than during the confusion of the Saxon
Heptarchy. Even at this early period it was certainly a more
improved country than at the invasion of Julius CaBsar, when
M habitants were nearly in the same state with the savages
in North America.
" In each of these periods, however, there was not only much
private and public profusion, many expensive and unnecessary
wars, great perversion of the annual produce from maintaining
productive to maintain unproductive hands ; but sometimes,
in the confusion of civil discord, such absolute waste and
destruction of stock as might be supposed not only to retard,
as it certainly did, the natural accumulation of riches, but to
have left the country, at the end of the period, poorer than at
the beginning. Thus, in the happiest and most fortunate
period of them all, that which has passed since the restoration,
how many disorders and misfortunes have occunv-i. which.
could they have been foreseen, not only the impoverishment.
390 APPENDIX
but the total ruin, of the country would have been expected
from them. The fire and the plague of London, the two Dutch
wars, the disorders of the Revolution, the war in Ireland, the
four expensive French wars of 1688, 1702, 1742, 1750,
together with the two rebellions of 1715 and 1745. In the
ourse of the four French wars the nation has contracted more
than 145,000,000 of debt, over and above all the other
extraordinary annual expense which they occasioned ; so that
the whole cannot be computed at less than 200,000,000; so
great a share of the annual produce of the land and labor of
the country has, since the Revolution, been employed upon
different occasions in maintaining an extraordinary number of
unproductive hands. But had not those wars given this par-
ticular direction to so large a capital, the greater part of it
would naturally have been employed in maintaining productive
hands, whose labor would have replaced with a profit the whole
value of their consumption. The value of the annual produce
of the land and labor of the country would have been consider-
ably increased by it every year, and every year's increase
would have augmented still more that of the following year.
More houses would have been built, more lands would have
been improved, and those which had been improved before
would have been better cultivated ; more manufactures would
have been established, and those which had been established
before would have been more extended ; and to what height
the real wealth and revenue of the country might by this time
have been raised it is not perhaps very easy even to imagine." 1
These conclusions would indeed all follow did individual
and national capital augment on precisely the same principles ;
but as the progress of the inventive faculty, an essential
element in the increase of national wealth, is here left out of
the calculation, we have good reason to doubt its accuracy.
Before the time of the Essay on Population, arguments and
conclusions very similar to these were brought forward con-
cerning the waste of human life in wars, and the consequent
amazing diminution of the greatness and prosperity of nations.
Perhaps the fallacy of the one doctrine may be best exposed
by stating the other.
1 Wealth of Nations, B. II. c. III.
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 391
Xations, it was said, can only advance in greatness and
prosperity as the numbers of their inhabitants increase. What-
ever the natural fertility of the soil, however genial the climate,
and however well fitted the whole country may be for the
practice of every species of industry, yet, if it be deficient in
population, these natural riches can never be elaborated, and
it must hold a poor and inconsiderable rank in the scale of
nations. A confined and comparatively barren territory, filled
with a numerous, industrious population, exceeds the most
fertile and extensive country scantily peopled. It is the
people that make the state, its real riches lie in its inhabitants.
" But as population increases, and can only increase, by
more coming into the world than go out of it, every man who
marries and raises a family is a public benefactor, and the
practice of celibacy, so far from being a virtue, is, in reality, a
great public crime. The number, however, of those who
marry, and have children, in all tolerably quiet and peaceable
times, much exceeds that of those who remain single ; and,
consequently, the number of all the inhabitants of the earth
has continually augmented, and, had it not been for the wars
which the ambition of princes has stirred up, would have been
still much farther augmented.
" The population of England is now much greater than at
the Restoration. It was greater at the Restoration than at
the accession of Elizabeth, and then than during the great
civil wars. Even then it was greater than at the Conquest,
and at that time, than at the invasion of Julius Caesar.
" In each of these periods, however, there were not only
many private feuds and public dissensions ; many bloody and
harassing wars ; great perversion of the powers of the in-
habitants from the production to the destruction of life ; but
sometimes such dreadful massacres and bloodshed, so great
multitudes perishing by the sword, and by famine following
up its ravages, as might be supposed not only to have retarded
the increase of the numbers of the inhabitants, but to have
left them fewer at the end than at the beginning. Had it
not been for these events, the greater part of those whom they
ied off would have married and had children, whose whole
numbers would naturally have been greater than that of the
392 APPENDIX
parents who procreated them. In this manner every genera-
tion would have exceeded proportionally the one preceding it.
The number of industrious hands thus produced would have
built more houses, would have improved more lands, and
would have cultivated better those which had been improved
before ; more manufactures would have been established, and
those which had been established before would have been
more extended, and how far the population of the country,
and its real wealth and strength, might have been carried by
this time, it is not perhaps very easy to imagine."
The error of both reasonings arises, in the same manner,
from taking what is merely a necessary concomitant, for a
cause. It is perfectly true, that the real wealth, strength, and
prosperity of a country, cannot advance, but as its population
advances, and that population can only advance by more being
brought into the world than go out of it. It is also true that
they cannot advance but as its capital advances, and that its
capital can only advance by more being saved than is spent.
But when it is said in either case, that as they can only
advance as population advances, or as accumulation advances,
we have only to allow population to go on unrestrained, or
only to allow accumulation to go on unchecked, we are
deceived, and led to unwarrantable conclusions, by a sort of
sleight in the use of words.
The contemplation of a couple contending with unremitting
labor against the evils of poverty and want, and, however
occasionally pinched by them themselves, warding them off
with care and success from their offspring, and rearing up a
numerous and industrious family, is a very pleasing sight. It
is pleasing as an evidence of the existence of some of the best
and purest affections of our nature ; it is pleasing, also, from
the mere view of the healthy addition thus made to that surest
stay of a state, an industrious and frugal population. But
when it is hence assumed, that nothing is wanting to augment
the numbers of the community, and carry it forward to great-
ness, than that similar principles and conduct should be
allowed to go on in all its members without restraint, a hasty
and inaccurate conclusion is drawn from a partial view of a
complicated subject. The numbers of a state can never
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 393
exceed, what its resources can support. When these resources
are augmented, the principles which tend to the preservation
and multiplication of the species are, in all well regulated
communities, sufficiently active speedily to fill up their
numbers to the amount of the increased supply.
In like manner, the contemplation of honest industry, and
patient frugality, not only manfully bearing up against present
necessity and want, but repelling them, and accumulating a
plentiful store to answer the demands of futurity, is also no
unpleasiiig spectacle. But for such principles neither public
nor private comfort or affluence could exist, or be preserved.
But, when it is hence also assumed, that nothing else is want-
ing to carry the community forward to the highest degree of
affluence and power, than that similar principles and conduct,
through all its members, should be encouraged, and allowed to
go on without check, a conclusion equally unwarranted and
equally inaccurate, is drawn from a like hasty and imperfect
view of a great subject. The capital of a state is a mere
instrument in the hands of its industry, to enable it to draw
forth the riches, with which the conjoined powers of nature
and art have endowed it. A multiplication of instruments is
of no avail, unless something additional be given on which
they may operate. When invention succeeds in discovering
these additional riches, the mere view is sufficient, in every
well regulated community, to induce its members to form the
new instruments, necessary to draw these riches forth.
There must be some strong inherent vice in any community,
where the certain prospect of plentiful subsistence does not
produce an abundant population. It can only be, also, from
the effects of some great inherent vice, that, in any community,
a very profitable investment for capital can be held out, and
yet capital not accumulate with rapidity. Where there is no
sufficient prospect of subsistence, people may be restrained
frniM marriage by the dread of their families suffering want.
\Vh<-re there is no sufficient prospect of profit, people may be
withheld from accumulating capital, because they may see no
iently profitable adventure open to them that they would
not fear to embark in. But the fact is, that people, rath.-i
_,'le, are inclined to marry at all risks, and hence
394 APPENDIX
population is kept down by misery, and premature death ; and
they are also, rather than do nothing, inclined to embark in
adventures where the chances are against their success ; hence
the vast numbers of unsuccessful projects that in most com-
munities are continually dissipating previous accumulations of
capital. To form a right judgment of the power of any com-
munity, under the most favorable circumstances, of increasing
its population, we must consider the additional marriages
which would take place, and the greater numbers that would
be reared to maturity from such as do take place, if plentiful
subsistence were provided. In like manner, to form a right
judgment of the powers of any community, under the most
favorable circumstances, to increase its capital, we must con-
sider, that, if abundance of secure and profitable investments
for capital were presented, its members would be more eager
to possess additional capital, and, therefore, would be more
prompted to accumulate it ; and the capital they possessed
would be more productive, and would not be subject to be
risked and lost in imprudent speculations.
From the inconsiderable rudiments of population and capital,
which Great Britain furnished to North America, is to be
traced the great amount of both, of which that flourishing
division of the globe at present boasts. The former has in-
creased so greatly, because plentiful subsistence has been
afforded it : the latter, because profitable and secure invest-
ments have been presented to it. Had it been possible to
have afforded, and had the same abundant subsistence been
afforded, to the population, and the same profitable and secure
investments to the capital remaining within the kingdom, they
would have both augmented, we have every reason to believe,
in a ratio equal to that at which the fragments of both that
went to North America have augmented. It certainly was
not the voyage across the Atlantic, but the rich soil on which
they fell on the other side of it, that excited them to so
luxuriant a growth.
This great productive power of both the population and
capital of a country, when room is afforded them to shoot,
seems so easily to fill up any gap which is made in the
national numbers or stock, that a calculation founded on the
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 395
assumption, that any loss in either which a nation may sustain,
necessarily occasions a proportionably permanent diminution of
its funds must evidently be inconclusive. It is very doubtful
it the population of London or England would have been
greater than it is at present, had there been no plague. It is
very doubtful also if the capital of London or of England
would have been greater than it is at present, had there been
no great fire. The additional demand for labor and capital,
which these disasters created, may very well be supposed
soon to have brought both up to the amount they had
previously attained.
In all instances of such, or even far greater calamities,
destroying a part of the population or capital of a country,
while the principles and elements, through and from which
they sprang, are not consumed along with them, we see them
quickly reproduced. When, for example, the great destroyer
\V;ir holds his course through a country, and clearing wide his
path with fire and sword, leaves property and life a wreck
behind him, we see not that the traces of his wrath are long
perpetuated ; in the midst of the ruins of what were, lie the
^erms of what are to be, and seizing on the elements of
xistence that lie waste around, they expand with a vigor
proportioned to the magnitude of the void that has been made
for them, and speedily replenish it. Like the track of the
whirlwind through the forest, the present desolation is quickly
covered up and obliterated by the freshness of the new growth,
vhich that very desolation gives light, and air, and the
means of existence. We should think the calculation rather
fanciful, which, estimating the trees overborne by the blast for
centuries, and reckoning the increase that might have possibly
come from each of them, should bring out as a correct result,
that all this would have been a clear addition to the vegetable
lit*- of the forest; and that so much greater it must have
been to-day, had not these disasters had place. Calculations
proceeding on the assumption of the indefinite increase of
population or capital, without showing also that there will
be room for them, are but little more logical.
Before population can advance, there must be something on
-which it can subsist ; before capital can increase, there must
396 APPENDIX
be something in which it may be embodied. Produce sub-
sistence, and, if vice prevent it not, population will follow
show that if capital did exist, it would produce great profits,
and, if vice prevent it not, capital will be accumulated. But,
until there be some means of subsisting the population, and
employing the capital, they can never, by simply urging on
their production, be rationally expected to be much augmented.
It is invention, which showing how profitable returns may
be got from the one, and how subsistence procured for the
other, that may most fitly be esteemed the cause of the exist-
ence of both ; and hence this power has most title to be
ranked as the true generator of states and people. It is
certainly, therefore, very far from being a self-evident truth,,
that the legislator, by employing the resources of the country
in rousing this principle to activity, necessarily retards, instead
of advancing, the increase of wealth and the prosperity of the
state.
PART 11.
Though the doctrine of the identity of the interests of
individuals and communities cannot be established as a simple
and self-evident principle, from the assumption that the objects
which individuals designedly pursue, for their private emolu-
ment, are precisely those which most promote the progress of
the general opulence ; and though in this sense, as we have
seen, the identity of the ends which they pursue is nominal,
not real, yet it follows not from this that the doctrine is
necessarily erroneous. Many doctrines which are far more
simple or self-evident are nevertheless true. Many, which at
first sight seem even contradictory to experience, are found, by
closer examination, to be legitimately deducible from it. It is
manifest that the general opulence, however brought about,
results, in some way or another, from the action and reaction
on each other of the whole system of persons and things,
which constitute communities, or belong to them. It is then
at least possible to conceive that it is entirely produced by the
efforts of individuals to advance their private fortunes. That,
though it is the object of individuals to acquire wealth, and of
nations to create it, yet that the series of actions which the
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 397
former generate, in endeavoring to make the acquisition, are
precisely those which are best calculated to forward the
creation ; and that thus, unconsciously to himself, each member
of the community, while seeking merely his own benefit,
necessarily adopts the very course which is most for the
advantage of the society, and, to use our author's words, " is
led in this, as in many other instances, by an invisible hand,
tn promote an end that was no part of his intention."
In this view of the subject the doctrine would put off the
shape of a simple principle, and assume that of a theory
deduced from an examination of the whole series of actions
that are concerned in the production of the wealth of com-
munities ; and in this way we may conceive that it might be
satisfactorily proved by an extended inquiry into the " Nature
of the Wealth of Nations."
Such is the theory of this department of human action,
which the author gives. If it be found not to be inconsistent
with the phenomena, but fairly deduced from them, the truth
of the peculiar doctrine, which it is the aim of his work to
maintain, would be established by it.
Before endeavoring to explain it, or attempting to show
wherein it fails, it is proper to remark that it is blended,
throughout the whole work, with that notion of the exact
identity of the ends which nations and individuals pursue,
the fallacy of which I trust I have, in some measure, exposed
in the preceding chapter. I shall afterwards have occasion to
show that this arrangement of his materials sometimes renders
his arguments illogical. I am led to notice it at present,
because I wish to account for the appearance of this assump-
tion, unremarked by me, in the analysis of the theory I am
a) unit to give.
must be apparent to every one acquainted with the
system, that its parts would not in any way hang together, if
deprived of the support which this popular notion gives to
them. Indeed, I conceive that the truest account that could
ivrn (.1 it, would be to say, that it is altogether founded on
the assumption that national and individual wealth and pros-
perity increase, and must increase, in precisely the same
manner ; and that the theoretical part of it merely serves to
398 APPENDIX
show how the increase of individual wealth does, in reality,
produce the events which we see accompanying national
wealth ; that the former is the cause, and the sole cause, of
the latter, and must therefore produce all the phenomena
attendant on it, being taken for an undeniable fact, and the
author seeming merely to have proposed to show how it may
be supposed to produce those phenomena. Thus, were what
was once the popular doctrine concerning population still held
to be the correct one, and were we to take it for granted as an
undeniable truth, that, as the national strength, and revenue,
and wealth can only advance as the number of industrious
hands that form them is increased, so every augmentation of
the population of a nation is an addition to the national funds,
and that, therefore, things ought to be allowed to take their
natural course , and all restraints on marriage be done away
with, the assumption and doctrine might be supported by a
theory, showing, or endeavoring to show, how all the phenomena
attending the advance of mankind towards prosperity and
affluence do, in fact, result from their increasing numbers.
It might, perhaps, in support of such a view of the subject,
be said, " that, as necessity is the mother of invention, so,
unless pressed by want, or the dread of it, mankind might
never have exercised their ingenuity in discovering even the
rudiments of the arts ; and certainly would not have advanced
them beyond the most unformed and imperfect elements. That,
while in genial climates the spontaneous fruits of the earth
afforded them abundant nourishment, they could have had no
motive to tax the labor of either their minds or bodies to pro-
duce that for which they had no need. That it was the
increase of their numbers, which, rendering the supplies that
nature had dealt out to them insufficient, imposed the task on
them of searching out the means of procuring additions to
them : and that thus necessity,
* Guns acuens mortalia corda
* * * * *
Ut varias usus meditando extunderet artes
Paulatim, etc.
* Whetting human industry by care
That studious need might useful arts explore,'
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 399
is in truth the divinity that taught mankind the most essential
arts.
* Primo Ceres ferro mortales vertere terrain
Instituit ; cum jam glatides atque arbuta sacra?
Defecerunt sylva* et victum Dodona negavit.
* First Ceres taught the ground with grain to sow,
And armed with iron shares the crooked plough ;
When now Dodonian oaks no more supplied
Their mast, and trees their forest fruit denied.' l
" That this urgent necessity, this imperious mistress, which
nature caused to spring from their increasing numbers, made
them spread themselves over the earth, and people even the
most rigorous climates. That the * rigid lore ' of the ' stern
d nurse' thus imposed on them, though harsh, was
healthful ; as a proof of which we may observe, that men in
general subsist in greatest comfort and abundance, where the
climate is most forbidding, and the soil most stubborn, because
there, that they may subsist at all, they have been obliged to
to their succour the most ingenious arts, and the most
indefatigable industry,
* Labor omnia vincit
Improbus et duns urgens in rebus egestas.'
4 What cannot endless labor urged by need ?'
it, as it is the action of this principle which has given rise
to all the arts, so it is it which has brought them to perfection.
That, while a territory is scantily peopled, and its inhabitants
id over it at a great distance from each other, they can
never subdivide themselves into different trades and employ-
ments, and each devoting himself to a particular business and
'xercise his whole ingenuity to bring that particular occu-
pation to perfection ; and that hence arts are in general in the
most flourishing condition, where the population is the most
dense.
"That to these causes, thus necessarily proceeding from this
great principle, we are to ascribe in particular both the opulence
an-1 ]>n.s]u -rity of our own nation, and the necessary diffusion
of the arts, manners, language, and race, with which they are
.cted, and in which they are embodied, over the remotest
1 [Virgil, Oeergic*, I. 149 f (Dryden'a TV*/.). J
4(>0 APPENDIX
regions of the globe. That thus, although men in marrying
seek only their own good, they nevertheless adopt that course
which is most to the advantage of society ; and here too, as
in many other instances, are led by an invisible hand to pro-
mote an end which was no part of their intention. That,
therefore, as the revenue and power of a nation can only
<-ase as its population increases, and as the increase of
population tends to give a beginning to every useful art, and
to carry it to the highest perfection, legislators act a very
absurd and culpable part in attempting, in any instance to
restrain it, or to check what is undoubtedly the natural, and
apparently the most beneficial course of events."
Such a theory, like almost every other view of only one side
of a complicated subject, would probably be partly correct, and
partly erroneous ; but it might be possible to embrace in it
a great mass of facts, and perhaps to give it considerable
plausibility.
In examining the soundness of the doctrine founded on it,
it might first be expedient to allow the assumptions necessarily
involved in it to pass unnoticed, and to test its accuracy by an
application to facts. Such is the course which I mean to
follow in this introductory examination of the somewhat similar
theory, as it seems to me, which is the groundwork for the vast
and varied accumulation of facts and opinions embodied in the
Wealth of Nations. I shall allow the author's assumptions to
pass unquestioned in all cases where they are mixed with the
explanation of real events, though I may esteem that explana-
tion erroneous ; and it is only where, alone and unconnected
with facts, they are brought forward for the purpose of argu-
ments as incontrovertible truths in order to establish the
particular doctrine which I combat, that I will feel myself
called on to expose the fallacies into which they lead.
The celebrated author remarks, " that it is from his labor
alone that man can draw the necessaries, the conveniences, the
amusements of human life, from the materials which nature
has placed around him. As the amount of these necessaries,
conveniences, and amusements, which any man can afford to
enjoy, constitutes his riches ; so the amount of them which all
the men in the nation can enjoy constitutes the national riches.
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 401
Labor, then, being the first price, the original purchase money,
that is paid for all things, an inquiry into national wealth is,
in fact, an inquiry into the means by which the labor of the
individuals composing a nation may produce, from the materials
they possess, the greatest amount of necessaries, conveniences,
and amusements.
" These may either be the immediate produce of that labor,
or what is purchased with that produce from other nations.
Hence such an inquiry may be divided into two parts ; the first
treating of the means by which the produce of the national
labor becomes greatest ; the second, of the manner in which
the part transferred to other nations procures for them, in
return, the greatest amount of necessaries, conveniences, and
amusements.
" First, then, may be considered the sources of wealth that
lie altogether within the society, the means of bringing, by the
labor of its members, out of the materials which it possesses,
the greatest amount of products ; that is, of articles affording,
necessaries, conveniences, or amusements.
" This, in any particular nation, must be regulated by two
circumstances. First, by the skill, dexterity, and judgment
with which its labor is generally applied; secondly, by the
proportion between the number of those who are employed in
useful labor, and that of those who are not so employed." It
is to the first of these circumstances, which he observes is of
much the greater influence, that our author's reasonings chiefly
refer, and to the consideration of it, therefore, we may altogether
confine ourselves.
" The chief cause operating on this, the main source of the
productiveness of labor, is capital. Without capital, industry
cuii Id scarce at all exist. While a man is executing a piece of
labor, he must have, to maintain him, a stock of goods, and he
must have ready provided for him the tools and materials
necessary for performing the work. These are all procured by
capital. A weaver, for instance, could not apply himself to
manufacture a web of cloth, unless there were stored up for
him a supply of food, and other necessaries, sufficient to main-
tain him till he complete and sell it, and were ho not provided
beforehand with a loom and other requisite tools and materials.
2c
402 ArPKNDIX
capital which provides all these, either his own or that of
some other person.
"As capital is thus the most essential element in setting
industry in motion, so it is by the amount of it, that the pro-
ductiveness of that industry is chiefly determined.
" Every man having capital naturally endeavors to make
the most of it ; that is, to cause the labor which it puts in
motion to yield the greatest amount of productions. This he
effects by the division of that labor ; that is, by separating the
operations it has to perform into as many distinct parts as
possible, and allotting each of them to one man, or one set of
men, as a peculiar employment.
" The increase arising to the productive powers of labor,
from this division of it, is owing to three different circum-
stances. First, to the increase of dexterity in every particular
workman ; secondly, to the saving of the time which is
commonly lost in passing from one species of work to another ;
lastly, to the invention of a great number of machines which
facilitate and abridge labor.
" First, the improvement of the dexterity of the workman
necessarily increases the quantity of the work he can perform ;
and the division of labor, by reducing every man's business to
some one simple operation, and by making this operation the
sole employment of his life, necessarily increases by much the
dexterity of the workman. A common smith, for instance, will
scarce make more than three hundred nails a day, and those
very bad ones. A boy who has devoted himself entirely to the
business of making nails, can make upwards of two thousand.
" Secondly, time is not wasted in passing from one work to
another, and the indolent sauntering habits induced by the
frequent change of employment are avoided.
" Thirdly, the invention of all those machines by which labor
is so much facilitated and abridged, seems to have been
originally owing to the division of labor. In consequence of it,
the whole of every man's attention comes naturally to be
directed to some one very simple object. It is naturally to be
expected, therefore, that some one or other of those who are
employed in each particular branch of labor should find out
easier and readier methods of performing their own particular
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 403
work, wherever the nature of it admits of improvement. In
this mode a great number of such improvements on the pro-
ductive power of labor have been made.
" The other improvements in machinery and manufactures l
have been also owing to the division of labor. Many of them
have been made by the ingenuity of those, who, from this
separation of employments, have taken up the trade of making
such machines ; others, by that class of citizens of whom
also philosophy or speculation becomes the sole trade and
occupation.
" The perfection to which this division of labor may be
carried depends on the amount of capital that sets it in
motion ; because the same number of workmen, executing a
greater quantity of work in proportion as they are better
classified and divided, require consequently, when so classified,
a larger stock of materials, and the extent of the stock of
materials provided must be regulated by the amount of capital
accumulated. Again, when so divided, they both require and
cause to be invented many new machines. These machines,
also, can only be procured by a capital previously stored up.
Not only, however, does the accumulation of capital, by pro-
viding more abundant materials and better machines, enable
the same number of workmen to be better divided, and to
produce more work, but it also may be observed that the
number of workmen in any branch of business increases with
the division of labor in that branch. Thus the increased
accumulation of capital, by effecting a more and more extended
division of labor, not only increases the productiveness of the
labor of the same number of workmen, but adds to that
number. By both means, therefore, it greatly augments the
total riches of the society, the amount of necessaries, conveni-
ences, and amusements produced by its members, and conse-
quently enjoyed by them.
" These productions which labor by the aid of capital
effects, have to be transported to the places where they are to
be consumed, have there to be stored up till they may be
wanted, when they have to be divided into small portions,
suited to the convenience of the persons who are to use them.
1 1 add this word because the chain of reasoning seems to require it.
404 APPENDIX
The dealers in wholesale and retail are enabled to perform
these useful offices by the instrumentality of capital, and the
greater the amount of that capital the more easily and
effectually they can perform them. Hence, every addition
their economy makes to that amount, tends also to the increase
of the general prosperity.
" The division of labor is limited by the extent of the
market. Before any man, or any set of men, can in common
prudence devote themselves to any particular employment,
they must be assured that they can dispose of the commodity
which their exertions in the prosecution of that employment
will produce. In situations where there is not a sufficient
number of customers near at hand to consume the manufactured
article, or where it cannot with advantage be transported to
those at a distance, the making of that article can never
become the exclusive employment of any man, or set of men.
When, therefore, there is not a sufficiently extensive market,
labor cannot be so much subdivided as it otherwise would, and
its productive powers are cramped for want of room in which
to exert themselves. The increase of capital extends the
market by adding to the numbers and general opulence of the
community, and by facilitating the modes of communication
between all parts of the territories which it possesses ; and this
extending market gives, in turn, additional celerity to the
increase of capital."
To this accumulation of capital, this continual parsimonious
saving out of revenue, the principle that, according to our
author, animates the whole progressive movement of the
society, he assigns the following limit.
" When the stocks of many rich merchants are turned into
the same trade, their mutual competition naturally tends to
lower its profit ; and, where there is a like increase of stock in
all the different trades carried on in the same society, the same
competition must produce the same effect in them all. As,
then, the profits of capital continually lower with its augmenta-
tion, there must arrive a period when they will be so diminished
as to render it no longer possible to save any part of them."
When this period arrives, the country would then, I think,
according to our author, have acquired its full complement of
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 405
riches ; every branch of business therein having the greatest
quantity of capital that could be employed in it.
" But besides the immediate produce of its own industry, a
country that has made any progress in the accumulation of
capital, and consequent division of labor and facility of pro-
duction, comes to furnish other countries with many articles,
and, in exchange, to receive from them many other articles.
This forms another source from whence the necessaries, con-
veniences, and amusements of nations may be supplied. A
country is enabled to do this from two causes. The soil,
climate, and natural productions of countries are various.
Hence one country has generally peculiar advantages over
others in manufacturing certain articles. Again, one country
exceeds another in the amount of capital it possesses, and
consequently in the skill with which its industry is applied ;
hence, also, there are articles which it can produce in greater
perfection than other countries, with greater facility, or both.
" This is the origin, and these are the advantages, of foreign
trade. By means of it two or more nations are enabled to
exchange with one another what would otherwise have been to
each superfluous for what, through these exchanges, procures
to each an additional amount of the necessaries, conveniences,
and amusements of life.
" It is capital which enables them to effect these beneficial
exchanges, and the amount of them must be limited by the
amount of capital that can be embarked in the employment."
What quantity of capital this employment may absorb, what
quantity of productions may thus be exchanged between
different countries, is a problem which our author has not, as
far as I perceive, given us certain data for solving. Some of
followers think it illimitable, but it is clear that this was
not his opinion, and that, though he did not assign the limits,
h<- nevertheless believed there were limits to it. Accordingly
ht makes another channel, through which, when these are
filled, it may flow, gathering still volume to itself, and adding
to the national prosperity as it proceeds.
" This is what is called the carrying trade, the carrying the
.surplus produce of one nation to another. Two countries may
have products which it would be advantageous for them to
406 APPENDIX
exchange, but they may not have capital sufficient to provide
the means necessary for effecting this exchange. In such
case, another nation having a superabundant capital may
embark part of it in performing this office for them, and
into this employment a country so circumstanced naturally
directs such a capital. When the capital stock of any
country is increased in such a degree, that it cannot be all
employed in supplying the consumption, and supporting the
productive labor of that particular country, the surplus part
of it naturally disgorges itself into the carrying trade, and is
employed in performing the same offices to other countries." 1
It may be observed, however, with regard to this last
employment, which our author assigns to capital, that it
implies a superiority in the progress of the productive in-
dustry of the country enjoying the trade, which cannot be
calculated on beforehand. A nation can only possess a
carrying trade, from other nations wanting foreign trade.
Though it may, therefore, form a source of gain to a par-
ticular nation, it seems not so properly to be reckoned
among the causes of the wealth of nations ; for, with the
general progress of that wealth, according to the theory of
our author, it would decay.
The ingenious theory, of the main elements of which, I
have thus attempted to delineate the outlines, its eminent
author has illustrated with a felicity of observation, and
laboriousness of research, which it were as vain to attempt
to depreciate, as superfluous to praise. He conceives that it
establishes the following conclusions.
" The natural effort of every individual to better his own
condition, when suffered to exert itself with freedom and
security, is so powerful a principle, that it is alone, and
without any assistance, not only capable of carrying on the
society to wealth and prosperity, but of surmounting a hun-
dred impertinent obstructions with which the folly of human
laws too often encumbers its operations ; though the effect
of these obstructions is always, more or less, either to
encroach upon its freedom or to diminish its security." 2
That " every system which endeavors, either, by extraordinary
1 Wealth of Nations, B. II. c. V. 2 B. IV. c. V.
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 407
encouragements to draw towards a particular species of in-
dustry a greater share of the capital of the society, than
what would naturally go to it, or, by extraordinary restraints,
to force from a particular species of industry some share
of the capital which would otherwise be employed in it,
is, in reality, subversive of the great purpose which it
means to promote. It retards instead of accelerating, the
progress of the society towards wealth and greatness ; and
diminishes, instead of increasing, the real value of the annual
produce of its land and labor." And therefore, that " all
systems, either of preference or restraint, being completely
taken away, the obvious and simple system of natural liberty
lishes itself of its own accord. Every man, as long
a> he does not violate the laws of justice, is left perfectly
free to pursue his own interest his own way, and to bring
both his industry and capital into competition with those of
any other man, or order of men. The sovereign is completely
discharged from a duty, in attempting to perform which he
must always be exposed to innumerable delusions, and for the
proper performance of which no human wisdom or knowledge
could ever be sufficient ; the duty of superintending the
industry of private people, and of directing it towards the
employments most suitable to the interest of the society." l
I expect in the sequel to show that the system contains
certain fundamental errors invalidating very many of the
conclusions, which the author desires to establish. In the
mean time, passing all such discussions, and viewing the
subject in something of the light in which it seems to have
been contemplated by Adam Smith himself, I would observe,
his system, if correct, must be consistent with itself, and
with admitted facts. His theory pretends to show, that the
source of the wealth of nations, the abundance, that is, of all
the materials of comfort and enjoyment, the necessaries, the
conveniences, the amusements of life which men possess, is
to be found in the gradual accumulation of capital by the
undisturbed industry and economy of individuals, continually
through the division of labor, introducing improvements in
the modes in which this labor operates with that capital, and,
1 Wealth of Nation*, B. IV. c. I \
408 APPENDIX
consequently, increasing with the greatest possible rapidity the
returns from them. His doctrine is, that the accumulation
of capital by individuals, being thus the only thing required
to produce that abundance with the greatest possible rapidity,
ought never to be interfered with by the legislator; ami
that, if he does so, it must necessarily be to the detriment
of the society for which he legislates. If, therefore, even
according to him, there are other sources, than the mere
accumulation of capital, and consequent division of labor, on
which nations are dependent for turning their labor ami
capital to the best account, and thus drawing from their
resources the most abundant returns of necessaries, conveni-
ences, and amusements, that is of wealth ; in so far, his theory
would seem imperfect, and his doctrine inapplicable. If we
now turn in particular to the part of the system with which
we are specially interested, we find, in reality, that as far as
it is concerned, the theory is thus inconsistent with events
admitted by its author, that hence this portion of it is con-
tradictory to itself, and to admitted phenomena, and that
consequently the doctrine drawn from it cannot here be
maintained.
In the account of the progress of opulence, given in the
Wealth of Nations, we find assigned, as one of the causes
of it, the introduction into a country of new manufactures.
" According to the natural course of things," we are told,
" the greater part of the wealth of any growing society is
first directed to agriculture, afterwards to manufactures, and
last of all to foreign commerce." 1 " After agriculture, the
capital employed in manufactures puts into motion the greatest
quantity of productive labor." 2 The utility of such manu-
factures is enlarged on in many parts of the work. " They
give a new value to the surplus part of the rude produce by
saving the expense of carrying it to the water side, or to
some distant market, and they furnish cultivators with some-
thing in exchange for it, that is either useful or agreeable
to them, upon easier terms than they could have obtained
it before. The cultivators get a better price for their sur-
plus produce, and can purchase cheaper other conveniences
1 Wealth of Nations, B. III. c. IX. 2 B. II. c. V.
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 409
which they have occasion for. They are thus encouraged
and enabled to increase this surplus produce by a farther
improvement and better cultivation of the land ; and as the
fertility of the land had given birth to the manufacture, so
the progress of the manufacture reacts upon the land, and
increases still farther its fertility. The manufacturers first
supply the neighborhood, and, as their work improves and
refines, more distant markets. For though neither the rude
produce nor even the coarse manufacture could, without the
greatest difficulty, support the expense of a considerable land
carriage, the refined and improved manufacture easily may.
In a small bulk it frequently contains the price of a great
quantity of rude produce." l " The revenue of a trading and
manufacturing country must, other things being equal, always
! niin-li ui eater than that of one without trade or manu-
la< -lures. By means of trade and manufactures a greater
quantity of subsistence can be annually imported into a
country than what its own lands, in the actual state of
their cultivation, could afford. The inhabitants of a town,
though they frequently possess no lands of their own, yet
draw to themselves, by their industry, such a quantity of
the rude produce of the lands of other people as supply
them, not only with the materials of their work, but with
the fund of their subsistence. What a town always is in
id to the country in its neighbourhood, one independent
state or country may frequently be with regard to other
independent states or countries. 2 Commerce and manufac-
tures gradually introduced order and good government " (into
Kuruj.r), "and with them the liberty and security of indi-
viduals among the inhabitants of the country, who had
before lived almost in a continual state of war with their
neighbors, and of servile dependency upon their superiors. 8
" No foreign war, of great expense or duration, could con-
veniently be carried on by the exportation of the rude produce
if the soil. The expense of sending such a quantity of it to a
fnivi'_'ii country as might purchase the pay and provisions of an
army would be too great. Few countries, too, produce much
more produce than what is sufficient for the subsistence of
1 Wealth of tfatim*, l;. ill 8, III B. IV. .-. IV B. III. c. IV.
410 APPENDIX
their own inhabitants. To send abroad any great quantity of
it, therefore, would be to send abroad a part of the necessary
subsistence of the people. It is otherwise with the exporta-
tion of manufactures. The maintenance of the people employed
in them is kept at home, and only the surplus part of their
work is exported. Among nations to whom commerce and
manufactures are little known, the sovereign, upon extra-
ordinary occasions, can seldom draw any considerable aid from
his subjects. 1 In modern war the great expense of fire arms
gives an evident advantage to the nation which can best afford
that expense ; and, consequently, to an opulent and civilized
over a poor and barbarous nation."
According to our author, some of these manufactures pro-
ceed from the original rude arts of the country cultivated and
refined by the gradual progress of capital and of the division of
labor ; others are introduced from foreign states. This transfer
takes place in the following manner. Trade first, by degrees,
introduces a taste for the foreign manufacture ; the demand for
it increases with time and the opulence of the society. But
when this trade has become so general as to occasion an exten-
sive consumption, the merchants of the country, to save the
expense attending the transport of the article from a foreign
country, introduce the manufacture of it at home.
In some cases, then, the increase of capital, arising from the
accumulation of individuals, and division of labour thence
arising, is not, it would appear, sufficient alone to account for
the progress of improvement, and consequent production of
fresh funds out of which wealth may grow. For, in cases
where the raw materials exist, and capital to divide labor and
put it in motion also exists, these are sometimes confessedly
dependent on the importation of new arts from other countries,
for the means of being advantageously directed. These ad-
mitted facts are certainly not in accordance with our author's
theory. Passing, however, the consideration of this at present,
I should wish to direct the reader's attention to the applica-
tion of his peculiar doctrines to events of this class ; and,
that I may do so, it is necessary to examine them with some-
what more attention.
1 Wealth of Nations, B. IV. c. I.
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 411
When goods are transported from a distance, a great part of
their price is made up of the expense, attending the transport.
This arises not merely from the simple expense of carriage, but
from the risk attending it, from the perils of land and water,
and the carelessness or knavery of those who are entrusted
with it ; from the profits which the different capitalists,
through whom they may be transferred, exact, and from the
damage to which commodities are subject by being long kept
on hand. The price of very many commodities transported
from one country to another is doubled by the influence of
these causes ; not a few of them derive more than three fourths
of their value from them.
Hence the transfer of the manufacture of such goods to the
countries to which, when manufactured, they were before sent,
is very highly advantageous to those countries. It is advan-
tageous from the saving to the national income which it effects
1 y doing away with the expense of transport ; from furnishing,
according to our author, a new and more profitable employ-
ment for capital ; and from the general effects it produces on
the national prosperity, as exemplified by him in the passages
I have quoted. It must be allowed, moreover, that this intro-
duction of such manufactures, by the violent operation, as he
terms it, of the stocks of particular merchants and undertakers,
who establish them in imitation of some foreign manufactures
of the same kind, is a matter of great difficulty.
For, in the first place, the materials which the home supply
affords, will, in all probability, be not altogether similar to
those that are used for the same purpose in the foreign country.
Some may be better, some worse adapted to the purpose, but
they can scarcely be altogether alike. They must vary, too, in
their price, some being cheaper, some dearer, than in the
country from whence the manufacture is brought.
The greater part of manufactures are also influenced by the
( liiuatf. The dryness or moisture of the atmosphere, the
<-es of heat and cold, the brightness of the sky and conse-
quent intensity of the light, are circumstances which all, more
or less, affect many manufactures.
The proportion between the rates of wages and profits of stock
is also very different in different countries, and it considerably
412 APPENDIX
influences the determination of what may be the most advan-
tageous mode of conducting any process in any country.
When the discovery of that exact mode of procedure, which
the relations and connexions that these new circumstances
have to each other renders most expedient, has once been made,
it may be found that they are on the whole more favorable
and such as will produce a better article, at less cost, in the
country to which the manufacture is transported, than in that
in which it was originally exercised. To make the discovery,
however, of this exact procedure is always a matter of difficulty,
and implies almost necessarily the previous commission of
many errors and mistakes, and the incurring of much needless
expense and loss. A single individual, whatever intelligence
and application he may possess, can scarce hope to arrive at it;
it requires the efforts of many individuals, continued through
a considerable course of time.
But these modifications, in the process of any manufacture,
which its removal from one country to another demands, are
far from being the only difficulty attending that removal. An
accurate knowledge of the principles of the manufacture, and
of the manner in which every part of it is carried on in the
foreign country, must be obtained ; the requisite machinery has
to be provided, and workmen, possessing the skill and dexterity
which each part of the process requires, must be procured.
These are generally matters of great difficulty.
Very few individuals have a thorough knowledge of every
different part of any complicated manufacture. In examining
any large and successful manufacturing establishment, we com-
monly find that the various parts of it depend, for the perfection
with which they are conducted, on the efforts of different
individuals, who devote their whole attention to their own
departments, and are not at all qualified to change places with
each other ; while the director of the whole has only such a
general knowledge of each as enables him to say when it is
properly conducted, not himself to point out the exact mode of
best conducting it. It is his business to preserve the economy
of the whole, and to search out the individuals best fitted for
carrying on every part. Hence the undertaker of any such
work, in a country where it has not been practised, has not
ADAM SMITH ON FREE TRADE 413
only to engage one, but generally many individuals, in order
that 
