DUTIES REGARDING THE EXCHANGE OF PROPERTY
§ 1. The Just Price.
We dealt in the last chapter with the duties which attached to
property in respect of its acquisition and use, and we now pass to
the duties which attached to it in respect of its exchange. As we
indicated above, the right to exchange one's goods for the goods or
the money of another person was, according to the scholastics, one of
the necessary corollaries of the right of private property. In order
that such exchange might be justifiable, it must be conducted on a.
basis of commutative justice, which, as we have seen, consisted in the
observance of equality according to the arithmetical mean. We further
drew attention to the fact that exchanges might be divided into
sales of goods and sales of the use of money. In the former case the
regulating principle of the equality of justice was given effect to
by the observance of the just price; in the latter by that of the
prohibition of usury. We shall deal with the former in the present
and with the latter in the following section.
The mediæval teaching on the just price, about which there has been so
much discussion and disagreement among modern writers, was simply the
application to the particular contract of sale of the principles which
regulated contracts in general. Exchange originally took the form
of barter; but, as it was found impossible accurately to measure
the values of the objects exchanged without the intervention of
some common measure of value, money was invented to serve as such a
measure. We need not further refer to barter in this section, as the
principles which applied to it were those that applied to sale. Indeed
all sales when analysed are really barter through the medium of
money. That Aquinas simply regarded his article on just price[1] as an
explanation of the application of his general teaching on justice to
the particular case of the contract of sale is quite clear from the
article itself. 'Apart from fraud, we may speak of buying and selling
in two ways. First, as considered in themselves; and from this point
of view buying and selling seem to be established for the common
advantage of both parties, one of whom requires that which belongs
to the other, and vice versa. Now whatever is established for the
common advantage should not be more of a burden to one part than to
the other, and consequently all contracts between them should observe
equality of thing and thing. Again, the quality of a thing that
comes into human use is measured by the price given for it, for which
purpose money was invented. Therefore, if either the price exceed the
quantity of the thing's worth, or conversely the worth of the thing
exceed the price, there is no longer the equality of justice; and
consequently to sell a thing for more than its worth, or to buy it for
less than its worth, is in itself unjust and unlawful.'[2] When two
contracting parties make an exchange through the medium of money,
the price is the expression of the exchange value in money. 'The
just price expresses the equivalence, which is the foundation of
contractual justice.'[3]
[Footnote 1: II. ii. 77, 1.]
[Footnote 2: This opinion was accepted by all the later writers,
e.g. Gerson, De Cont., ii. 5; Biel, op. cit., IV. xv. 10: 'Si
pretium excedit quantitatem valoris rei, vel e converso tolleretur
equalitas, erit contractus iniquus.']
[Footnote 3: Desbuquois, 'La Justice dans l'Echange,' Semaine
Sociale de France, 1911, p. 167. Gerson says: 'Contractus species est
justitiae commutativae quae respicit aequalitatem rei quae venditur
ad rem quae emitur, ut servetur aequalitas justi pretii; propter quam
aequalitatem facilius observandum inventa est moneta, vel numisma, vel
pecunia,' De Cont., ii. 5.]
The conception of the just price, though based on Aristotelian
conceptions of justice, is essentially Christian. The Roman law had
allowed the utmost freedom of contract in sales; apart from fraud,
the two contracting parties were at complete liberty to fix a price
at their own risk; and selfishness was assumed and allowed to be the
animating motive of every contracting party. The one limitation to
this sweeping rule was in favour of the seller. By a rescript of
Diocletian and Maximian it was enacted that, if a thing were sold
for less than half its value, the seller could recover the property,
unless the buyer chose to make up the price to the full amount.
Although this rescript was perfectly general in its terms, some
authors contended that it applied only to sales of land, because the
example given was the sale of a farm.[1] However, the rescript was
quoted by the Fathers as showing that even the Roman law considered
that contracts might be questioned on equitable grounds in certain
cases.[2] The distinctively Christian notion of just price seems to
have its origin in a passage of St. Augustine;[3] but the notion was
not placed on a philosophical foundation until the thirteenth century.
Even Aquinas, however, although he treats of the just price at some
length, and expresses clear and categorical opinions upon many points
connected with it, does not state the principles on which the just
price itself should be arrived at. This omission is due, not to the
fact that Aquinas was unfamiliar with these principles, but to the
fact that he took them for granted as they were not disputed or
doubted.[4] We have consequently to look for enlightenment upon this
point in writings other than those of Aquinas. The subject can be most
satisfactorily understood if we divide its treatment into two parts:
first, a consideration of what constituted the just price in the sale
of an article, the price of which was fixed by law; and second, a
consideration of what constituted the just price of an article, the
price of which was not so fixed.
[Footnote 1: Hunter, Roman Law, p. 492.]
[Footnote 2: Ashley, op. cit., p. 133.]
[Footnote 3: 'Scio ipse hominem quum venalis codex ei fuisset oblatus,
pretiique ejus ignarum ideo quiddam exiguum poscentem cerneret
venditorem, justum pretium, quod multo amplius erat nec opinanti
dedisse' (De Trin., xiii. 3).]
[Footnote 4: Palgrave, Dictionary of Political Economy, tit. 'Justum
Pretium.']
§ 2. The Just Price when Price fixed by Law.
Regarding the power of the State to fix prices, the theologians and
jurists were in complete agreement. According to Gerson: 'The law
may justly fix the price of things which are sold, both movable and
immovable, in the nature of rents and not in the nature of rents, and
feudal and non-feudal, below which price the seller must not give, or
above which the buyer must not demand, however they may desire to do
so. As therefore the price is a kind of measure of the equality to be
observed in contracts, and as it is sometimes difficult to find that
measure with exactitude, on account of the varied and corrupt desires
of man, it becomes expedient that the medium should be fixed according
to the judgment of some wise man…. In the civil state, however,
nobody is to be decreed wiser than the lawgiving authority. Therefore
it behoves the latter, whenever it is possible to do so, to fix the
just price, which may not be exceeded by private consent, and which
must be enforced.'…[1] Biel practically paraphrases this passage of
Gerson, and contends that it is the duty of the prince to fix prices,
mainly on account of the difficulty which private contractors find in
doing so.[2]
[Footnote 1: De Cont., i. 19.]
[Footnote 2: Op. cit., IV. xv. 11.]
The rules which we find laid down for the guidance of the prince in
fixing prices are very interesting, as they show that the mediæval
writers had a clear idea of the constituent elements of value.
Langenstein, whose famous work on contracts was considered of high
authority by later writers, says that the prince should take account
of the condition of the place for which the price was to be fixed, the
circumstances of the time, the condition of the mass of the people.
The different kinds of need which may be felt for goods must also
be considered, indigentice naturæ, status, voluptatis, and
cupiditatis; and a distinction drawn between extensive and intensive
need—the former is greater 'quanto plures re aliqua indigent,' the
latter 'quanto minus de illa re habetur.' The general rule is that the
prince must seek to find a medium between a price so low as to render
labourers, artisans, and merchants unable to maintain themselves
suitably, and one so high as to disable the poor from obtaining the
necessaries of life. When in doubt, Langenstein concludes, the price
should err on the low rather than the high side.[1] Biel gives similar
rules: The legislator must regard the needs of man, the abundance or
scarcity of things, the difficulty, labour, and risks of production.
When all these things are carefully considered the legislator is in a
position to fix a just price.[2] According to Endemann, the labour of
production, the cost and risk of transport, and the condition of
the markets had all to be kept in mind when a fair price was being
fixed.[3] We may mention in passing that the power of fixing the just
price might be delegated; prices were frequently fixed by the town
authorities, the guilds, and the Church.[4]
[Footnote 1: Roscher, Geschichte, p. 19.]
[Footnote 2: Op. cit., IV. xv. 10.]
[Footnote 3: Studien, vol. ii. p. 43.]
[Footnote 4: Endemann, Studien, vol. i. p. 40; Roscher, Political
Economy, s. 114.]
The passage from Gerson which we quoted above shows that, when a just
price had been fixed by the competent authority, the parties to
a contract were bound to keep to it. In other words, the pretium
legitimum was ipso facto the justum pretium. On this point there
is complete agreement among the writers of the period. Caepolla says,
'When the price is fixed by law or statute, that is the just price,
and nobody can receive anything, however small, in excess of it,
because the law must be observed';[1] and Biel, 'When a price has been
fixed, the contracting parties have sufficient certainty about the
equality of value and the justice of the price.'[2] Cossa draws
attention to the necessity of the fixed price corresponding with
the real price in order that it should maintain its validity. 'The
schoolmen talk of the legitimate and irreducible price of a thing
which was fixed by authority, and was for obvious reasons of special
importance in the case of the necessaries of life…. The legitimate
price of a thing as fixed by authority had to be based upon the
natural price, and therefore lost its validity and became a dead
letter the moment any change of circumstances made it unfair.'[3]
[Footnote 1: De Contractibus Simulatis, 69.]
[Footnote 2: Op. cit., IV. xv. 10.]
[Footnote 3: Op. cit., p. 143.]
§ 3. The Just Price when Price not fixed by Law.
When the just price was not fixed by any outside authority, the buyer
and seller had to arrive at it themselves. The problem before them was
to equalise their respective burdens, so that there would be equality
of burden between them, or, in other words, to reduce the value of the
article sold to terms of money. In order that we may understand how
this equality was arrived at, it is important to know the factors
which were held to enter into the determination of value.
The first thing upon which the mediæval teachers insist is that value
is not determined by the intrinsic excellence of the thing itself,
because, if it were, a fly would be more valuable than a pearl, as
being intrinsically more excellent.[1] Nor is the value to be measured
by the mere utility of the object for satisfying the material needs
of man, for in that case, corn should be worth more than precious
stones.[2] The value of an object is to be measured by its capacity
for satisfying men's wants. 'Valor rerum aestimatur secundum humanam
indigentiam…. Dicendum est quod indigentia humana est mensura
naturalis commutabilium; quod probatur sic: bonitas sive valor rei
attenditur ex fine propter quem exhibetur: unde commentator secundo
Metaphysicae nihil est bonum nisi propter causas finales; sed finis
naturalis ad quem justitia commutativa ordinet exteriora commutabilia
est supplementum indigentiae humanae…; igitur supplementum
indigentiae humanae est vera mensura commutabilium. Sed supplementum
videtur mensurari per indigentiam; majoris enim valoris est
supplementum quod majorem supplet indigentiam…. Item hoc probatur
signo, quia videmus quod illo tempore quo vina deficiunt quia magis
indigeremus eis ipsa fiunt cariora….[3]
[Footnote 1: 'In justitia commutativa non estimatur pretium
commutabilium secundum naturalem valorem ipsorum, sic enim musca plus
valeret quam totus aurum mundi' (Buridan, op. cit., v. 14).]
[Footnote 2: Slater, 'Value in Theology and Political Economy,' Irish
Ecclesiastical Record, Sept. 1901.]
[Footnote 3: Buridan, op. cit., v. 14 and 16. Antoninus of Florence
says that value is determined by three factors, virtuositas,
raritas, and placibilitas (Summa, ii. 1, 16.)]
The capacity of an object for satisfying man's needs could not be
measured by its capacity for satisfying the needs of this or that
individual, but by its capacity for satisfying the needs of the
average member of the community.[1] The Abbé Desbuquois, in the
article from which we have already quoted, finds in this elevation of
the common estimation an illustration of the general principle of the
mediævals, which we have seen at work in their teaching on the use of
property, that the individual benefit must always be subordinated to
the general welfare. According to him, it is but one application of
the duty of using one's goods for the common good. 'In the same way,
in allowing the right of exchange—a right, let us remark in passing,
which is but an application of the right of property—and in allowing
it as a means of life necessary to everybody, nature does not lose
sight of the universal destination of economic goods. One conceives
then that the variations of exchange are not permitted to be left
to the arbitrary judgment of a single man, nor to be affected by the
whims and abuses of individuals; that value is defined in view of the
general good. The exchange value, as it is in the general or social
order, proceeds from the judgment of the social environment (milieu
social).'[2]
[Footnote 1: 'Indigentia istius hominis vel illius non mensurat
valorem commutabilium; sed indigentia communis eorum qui inter se
commutare possunt,' Buridan, op. cit., v. 16. 'Prout communiter
venditur in foro,' Henri de Gand, Quod Lib., xiv. 14; Nider, De
Cont. Merc., ii. 1.]
[Footnote 2: 'La Justice dans l'Echange,' Semaine Sociale de France,
1911, p. 168.]
The writers of the Middle Ages show a very keen perception of the
elements which invest an object with the value which is accorded to
it by the general estimation. In Aquinas we find certain elements
recognised—'diversitas loci vel temporis, labor, raritas'—but it is
not until the authors of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries that
we find a systematic treatment of value.[1] First and foremost there
is the cost of production of the article, especially the wages of all
those who helped to produce it. Langenstein lays down that every one
can determine for himself the just price of the wares he has to sell
by reckoning what he needs to support himself in the status which he
occupies.[2] According to the Catholic Encyclopædia,[3] the
just price of an article included enough to pay fair wages to the
worker—that is, enough to enable him to maintain the standard of
living of his class. This, though not stated in so many words
by Aquinas, was probably assumed by him as too obvious to need
repetition.[4] 'The cost of production of manufactured products,' says
Brants, 'is a legitimate constituent element of value; it is according
to the cost that the producer can properly fix the value of his
product and of his work.'[5]
[Footnote 1: Brants, op. cit., p. 69.]
[Footnote 2: De Cont., quoted by Roscher, Geschichte, p. 20.]
[Footnote 3: Tit. 'Political Economy.']
[Footnote 4: Palgrave, Dictionary, tit. 'Justum Pretium.']
[Footnote 5: Brants, op. cit., p. 202.]
The cost of the labour of production was, however, by no means the
only factor which was admitted to enter into the determination of
value. The passage from Gerson dealing with the circumstances to which
the prince must have regard in fixing a price, which we quoted above,
shows quite clearly that many other factors were recognised as no
less important. This appears with special clearness in the treatise
of Langenstein, whose authority on this subject was always ranked very
high. Bernardine of Siena is careful to point out that the expense of
production is only one of the factors which influence the value of an
object.[1] Biel explains that, when no price has been fixed by law,
the just price may be arrived at by a reference to the cost of the
labour of production, and to the state of the market, and the other
circumstances which we have seen above the prince was bound to have
regard to in fixing a price. He also allows the price to be raised on
account of any anxiety which the production of the goods occasioned
him, or any danger he incurred.[2]
[Footnote 1: 'Res potest plus vel minus valere tribus modis; primo
secundum suam virtutem; secondo modo secundum suam caritatem; tertio
modo secundum suam placibilitatem et affectionem…. Primo observat
quemdam naturalem ordinem utilium rerum, secundo observat quemdam
communem cursum copiae et inopiae, tertio observat periculum et
industriam rerum seu obsequiorum' (Funk, Zins und Wucher, p. 153).]
[Footnote 1: 'Sollicitudo et periculum,' Op. cit., IV. xv. 10.]
It will be apparent from the whole trend of the above that, whereas
the remuneration of the labour of all those who were engaged in the
production of an article, was one of the elements to be taken into
account in reckoning its value, and consequently its just price,
it was by no means the only element. Certain so-called Christian
socialists have endeavoured to find in the writings of the scholastics
support for the Marxian position that all value arises from labour.[1]
This endeavour is, however, destined to failure; we shall see in a
later chapter that many forms of unearned income were tolerated and
approved by the scholastics; but all that is necessary here is to draw
the attention of the reader to the passages on value to which we have
referred. One of the most prominent exponents of the untenable view
that the mediævals traced all value to labour is the Abbé Hohoff,
whose argument that there was a divorce between value and just price
in the scholastic writings, is ably controverted by Rambaud, who
remarks that nobody would have been more surprised than Aquinas
himself at the suggestion that he was the forerunner of Karl Marx.[2]
[Footnote 1: Even Ashley states that 'the doctrine had thus a close
resemblance to that of modern Socialists; labour it regarded both as
the sole (human) cause of wealth, and also as the only just claim to
the possession of wealth' (Op. cit., vol. i. part ii. p. 393).]
[Footnote 2: Op. cit., p. 50.]
The idea that the scholastics traced all value to the labour expended
on production is rejected by many of the most prominent writers on
mediæval economic theory. Roscher draws particular attention to the
fact that the canonist teaching assigned the correct proportions in
production to land, capital, and labour, in contrast to all the later
schools of economists, who have exaggerated the importance of one or
the other of these factors.[1] Even Knies, who was the first modern
writer to insist on the importance of the cost of production as an
element of value, states that the Church sought to fix the price of
goods in accordance with the cost of production (Herstellungskosten)
and the consumption value (Gebrauchswerte).[2] Brants takes the
same view. 'The expenses of production are in practice the norm of the
fixing of the sale price in the great majority of cases, above all
in a very narrow market, where competition is limited; moreover, they
can, for reasons of public order, form the basis of a fixing that
will protect the producer and the consumer against the disastrous
consequences of constant oscillations. The vendor can in principle
be remunerated for his trouble. It is well that he should be so
remunerated; it is socially useful, and is used as a basis for fixing
price; but it cannot in any way be said that this forms the objective
measure of value, but that the work and expense are a sufficient
title of remuneration for the fixing of the just price of the sale
of a thing. Some writers have tried to conclude from this that the
authors of the Middle Ages saw in labour the measure of value. This
conclusion is exaggerated. We may fully admit that this element
enters into the sale price; but it is in no way the general measure
of value…. The expenses of production constitute, then, one of
the legitimate elements of just price; they are not the measure of
value, but a factor often influencing its determination.'[3] 'Labour,'
according to Dr. Cronin, 'is one of the most important of all the
determinants of value, for labour is the chief element in cost of
production, and cost of production is one of the chief elements in
determining the level at which it is useful to buy or sell. But labour
is not the only determinant of value; there is, e.g., the price of
the raw materials, a price that is not wholly determined by the labour
of producing those materials.'[4]
[Footnote 1: Political Economy, s. 48.]
[Footnote 2: Politische Oekonomie vom Standpuncte der geschichtlichen
Methode, p. 116.]
[Footnote 3: Op. cit., p. 112.]
[Footnote 4: Ethics, vol. ii. p. 181.]
The just price, then, in the absence of a legal fixing, was held to
be the price that was in accordance with the communis estimatio.
Of course, this did not mean that a plebiscite had to be taken before
every sale, but that any price that was in accordance with the general
course of dealing at the time and place of the sale was considered
substantially fair. 'A thing is worth what it can generally be sold
for—at the time of the contract; this means what it can be sold for
generally either on that day or the preceding or following day. One
must look to the price at which similar things are generally sold
in the open market.'[1] 'We must state precisely,' says the Abbé
Desbuquois, 'the character of this common estimation; it did not mean
the universal suffrage; although it expresses the universal interest,
it proceeds in practice from the evaluation of competent men, taken
in the social environment where the exchange value operates. If one
supposes a sovereign tribunal of arbitration where all the rights
of all the weak and all the strong economic factors are taken into
account, the just price appears as the sentence or decision of this
court.'[2] 'For the scholastics, the common estimation meant an
ethical judgment of at least the most influential members of
the community, anticipating the markets and fixing the rate of
exchange.'[3]
[Footnote 1: Caepolla, De Cont. Sim., 72.]
[Footnote 2: Op. cit., pp. 169-70.]
[Footnote 3: Fr. Kelleher in the Irish Theological Quarterly, vol.
xi. p. 133.]
It is quite incorrect to say, as has been sometimes said, that the
mediæval just price was in no way different from the competition
price of to-day which is arrived at by the higgling of the market.
Dr. Cunningham is very explicit and clear on this point. 'Common
estimation is thus the exponent of the natural or normal or just price
according to either the mediæval or modern view; but, whereas we rely
on the higgling of the market as the means of bringing out what is the
common estimate of any object, mediæval economists believed that it
was possible to bring common estimation into operation beforehand,
and by the consultation of experts to calculate out what was the just
price. If common estimation was thus organised, either by the town
authorities or guilds or parliament, it was possible to determine
beforehand what the price should be and to lay down a rule to this
effect; in modern times we can only look back on the competition
prices and say by reflection what the common estimation has been.'[1]
'The common estimation of which the Canonists spoke,' says Dr. Ryan,
'was conscious social judgment that fixed price beforehand, and was
expressed chiefly in custom, while the social estimate of to-day is
in reality an unconscious resultant of the higgling of the market, and
finds its expression only in market price.'[2] The phrase 'res tanti
valet quanti vendi potest,' which is so often used to prove that
the mediæval doctors permitted full competitive prices in the modern
sense, must be understood to mean that a thing could be sold at any
figure which was within the limits of the minimum and maximum just
price.[3]
[Footnote 1: Growth of English Industry and Commerce, vol. i. p.
353.]
[Footnote 2: Living Wage, p. 28.]
[Footnote 3: Lessius, De Justitia et Jure, xxi. 19.]
The last sentence suggests that the just price was not a fixed and
unalterable standard, but was somewhat wide and elastic. On this all
writers are agreed. 'The just price of things,' says Aquinas, 'is not
fixed with mathematical precision, but depends on a kind of estimate,
so that a slight addition or subtraction would not seem to destroy
the equality of justice,'[1] Caepolla repeats this dictum, with the
reservation that, when the just price is fixed by law, it must be
rigorously observed.[2] 'Note,' says Gerson, 'that the equality of
commutative justice is not exact or unchangeable, but has a good deal
of latitude, within the bounds of which a greater or less price may
be given without justice being infringed;'[3] and Biel insists on the
same latitude, from which he draws the conclusion that the just price
is constantly varying from day to day and from place to place.[4]
Generally it was said that there was a maximum, medium, and minimum
just price; and that any price between the maximum and minimum was
valid, although the medium was to be aimed at as far as possible.
[Footnote 1: II. ii. 77, 1, ad. 1.]
[Footnote 2: De Cont. Sim., 58.]
[Footnote 3: De Cont., ii. 11.]
[Footnote 4: Op. cit., IV. xv. 10.]
The price fixed by common estimation was therefore the one to be
observed in most cases, and it was at all times a safe guide to
follow. If, however, the parties either knew or had good reason to
believe that the common estimation had fixed the price wrongly,
they were not bound to follow it, but should arrive at a just
price themselves, having regard to the various considerations given
above.[1]
[Footnote 1: Nider, De Cont. Merc. ii.: 'Si vero scit vel credit
communitatem errare in estimatione pretii rei; tunc nullo modo debet
eam sequi; quia etiam si reciperet verum et justum pretium, tamen
faceret contra conscientiam.']
It did not make any difference whether the price was paid immediately
or at some future date. To increase the price in return for the giving
of credit was not allowed, as it was deemed usurious—as indeed it
was. It was held that the seller, in not taking his money immediately,
was simply making a loan of that amount to the buyer, and that to
receive anything more than the sum lent would be usury. Aquinas is
quite clear on this point. 'If a man wish to sell his goods at a
higher price than that which is just, so that he may wait for the
buyer to pay, it is manifestly a case of usury; because this waiting
for the payment of the price has the character of a loan, so that
whatever he demands beyond the just price in consideration of this
delay, is like a price for a loan, which pertains to usury. In like
manner, if a buyer wishes to buy goods at a lower price than what is
just, for the reason that he pays for the goods before they can
be delivered, it is likewise a sin of usury; because again this
anticipated payment of money has the character of a loan, the price of
which is the rebate on the just price of the goods sold. On the other
hand, if a man wishes to allow a rebate on the just price in order
that he may have his money sooner, he is not guilty of the sin of
usury.'[1] If, however, the seller, by giving credit, suffered any
damage, he was entitled to be recompensed; this, as we shall see, was
an ordinary feature of usury law. It could not be said that the price
was raised. The price remained the same; but the seller was entitled
to something further than the price by way of damages.[2] It was
by the application of this principle that a seller was justified in
demanding more than the current price for an article which possessed
some individual or sentimental value for him. 'In such a case the just
price will depend not only on the thing sold, but on the loss which
the sale brings on the seller…. No man should sell what is not his,
though he may charge for the loss he suffers.'[3] On the other
hand, it was strictly forbidden to raise the price on account of the
individual need of the buyer.[4]
[Footnote 1: II. ii. 78, 2, ad. 7. See Decret. Greg., v. 19, de
usuris, cc. 6 and 10.]
[Footnote 2: Endemann, Studien, vol. ii. pp. 49; Desbuquois, op.
cit., p. 174.]
[Footnote 3: II. ii. 77, 1.]
[Footnote 4: Ibid.]
§ 4. The Just Price of Labour.
Particular rules were laid down for determining the just price of
certain classes of goods. These need not be treated in detail, as they
were merely applications of the general principle to particular cases,
and whatever interest they possess is in the domain of practice rather
than of theory. In the sale of immovable property the rule was that
the value should be arrived at by a consideration of the annual fruits
of the property.[1] The only one of the particular contracts which
need detain us here is that of a contract of service for wages
(locatio operarum). Wages were considered as ruled by the laws
relating to just price. 'That is called a wage (merces) which is
paid to any one as a recompense for his work and labour. Therefore,
as it is an act of justice to give a just price for a thing taken from
another person, so also to pay the wages of work and labour is an act
of justice.'[2] Again, 'Remuneration of service or work … can be
priced at a money value, as may be seen in the case of those who offer
for hire the labour which they exercise by work or by tongue.'[3] Biel
insists that the value of labour is subject to the same influences as
the value of any other commodity which is offered for sale, and that
therefore a just price must be observed in buying it.[4]
[Footnote 1: Caepolla, de Cont. Sim., 78; Carletus, Summa
Angelica, lxv.]
[Footnote 2: Aquinas, Summa, II. ii. 114, 1.]
[Footnote 3: II. ii. 78, 2, ad. 3.]
[Footnote 4: Op. cit., IV. xv. 10. Modern Socialists caricature the
correct principle 'that labour is a commodity' into 'the labourer is
a commodity'—a great difference, which is not sufficiently understood
by many present-day writers. (See Roscher, Political Economy, s.
160.)]
This, according to Brants,[1] is essentially a matter upon which more
enlightenment will be found in histories of the working classes[2]
than in books dealing with the enunciation of abstract theories;
nevertheless, it is possible to state generally that it was regarded
as the duty of employers to give such a wage as would support the
worker in accordance with the requirements of his class. In the
great majority of cases the rate of wages was fixed by some
public—municipal or corporative—authority, but Langenstein
enunciates a rule which seems to approach the statement of a general
theory. According to him, when a man has something to sell, and has
no indication of the just price from its being fixed by any outside
authority, he must endeavour to get such a price as will reasonably
recompense him for any outlay he may have incurred, and will enable
him to provide for his needs, spiritual and temporal.[3] It was not
until the sixteenth century that the fixing of the just price of
wages was submitted to scientific discussion;[4] in the fourteenth
and fifteenth centuries there is little to be found bearing on this
subject except the passage of Langenstein which we have quoted, and
some strong exhortations by Antoninus of Florence to masters to pay
good wages.[5] The reason for this paucity of authority upon a subject
of so much importance is that in practice the machinery provided
by the guilds had the effect of preserving a substantially just
remuneration to the artisan. When a man is in perfect health he
does not bother to read medical books. In the same way, the proper
remuneration of labour was so universally recognised as a duty, and so
satisfactorily enforced, that it seems to have been taken for granted,
and therefore passed over, by the writers of the period. One may agree
with Brants in concluding that, 'the principle of just price in sales
was applied to wages; fluctuations in wages were not allowed; the just
price, as in sales, rested on the approximate equality of the services
rendered; and that this equality was estimated by common opinion.'[6]
Of course, in the case of slave labour it could not be said that any
wage was paid. The master was entitled to the services of the slave,
and in return was bound to furnish him with the necessaries of
life.[7]
[Footnote 1: Op. cit., p. 103.]
[Footnote 2: An excellent bibliography of books dealing with the
history of the working classes in the Middle Ages is to be found in
Brants, op. cit., p. 105. The need for examining concrete economic
phenomena is insisted on in Ryan's Living Wage, p. 28.]
[Footnote 3: De Cont. We have here a recognition of the principle
that the value of labour is not to be measured by anything extrinsic
to itself, e.g. by the value of the product, but by its own natural
function and end, and this function and end is the supplying of the
requirements of human life. The wage must, therefore, be capable of
supplying the same needs that the expenditure of a labourer's energy
is meant to supply. (See Cronin, Ethics, vol. ii. p. 390.)]
[Footnote 4: Brants, op. cit., p. 118.]
[Footnote 5: The passages from the Summa of Antoninus bearing on the
subject are reprinted in Brants, op. cit., p. 120.]
[Footnote 6: Op. cit., p. 125.]
[Footnote 7: Brants, op. cit., p. 116, quoting Le Lime du Trésor
of Brunetto Latini.]
§ 5. Value of the Conception of the Just Price.
It is probably correct to say that the canonical teaching on just
price was negative rather than positive; in other words, that it did
not so much aim at positively fixing the price at which goods should
be sold, as negatively at indicating the practices in buying and
selling which were unjust. 'The doctrine of just price,' according to
Dr. Ryan, 'may sometimes have been associated with incorrect views
of industrial life, but all competent authorities agree that it was a
fairly sound attempt to define the equities of mediæval exchanges,
and that it was tolerably successful in practice.'[1] The condition
of mediæval markets was frequently such that the competition was not
really fair competition, and consequently the price arrived at
by competition would be unfair either to buyer or seller. 'This,'
according to Dr. Cunningham, 'was the very thing which mediæval
regulation had been intended to prevent, as any attempt to make gain
out of the necessities of others, or to reap profit from unlooked-for
occurrences would have been condemned as extortion. It is by taking
advantage of such fluctuations that money is most frequently made in
modern times; but the whole scheme of commercial life in the
Middle Ages was supposed to allow of a regular profit on each
transaction.'[2] There might be some doubt as to the positive justice
of this or that price; but there could be no doubt as to the injustice
of a price which was enhanced by the necessities of the poor, or the
engrossing of a vital commodity.[3] Merely to buy up the whole supply
of a certain commodity, even if it were bought up by a 'ring' of
merchants, provided that the commodity was resold within the limits
of the just price, was not a sin against justice, though it might be
a sin against charity.[4] If the authorities granted a monopoly, they
must at the same time fix a just price.[5] A monopoly which was not
privileged by the State, and which had for its aim the raising of
the price of goods above the just price was regarded with universal
reprobation.[6] 'Whoever buys up corn, meat, and wine,' says
Trithemius, 'in order to drive up their price and to amass money at
the cost of others is, according to the laws of the Church, no better
than a common criminal. In a well-governed community all arbitrary
raising of prices in the case of articles of food and clothing is
peremptorily stopped; in times of scarcity merchants who have supplies
of such commodities can be compelled to sell them at fair prices; for
in every community care should be taken that all the members should be
provided for, and not only a small number be allowed to grow rich,
and revel in luxury to the hurt and prejudice of the many.[7] Thus the
doctrine of the just price was a deadly weapon with which to fight the
'profiteer.' The engrosser was looked upon as the natural enemy of the
poor; and the power of the trading class was justly reckoned so great,
that in cases of doubt prices were always fixed low rather than high.
In other words, the buyer—that is to say, the community—was the
subject of protection rather than the seller.[8]
[Footnote 1: The Living Wage, p. 27.]
[Footnote 2: Growth of English Industry and Commerce, vol. i. p.
460.]
[Footnote 3: Endemann, Studien, vol. ii. p. 60.]
[Footnote 4: Lessius, De Justitia et Jure, II. xx. 1, 21.]
[Footnote 5: Ibid.]
[Footnote 6: Langenstein, De Cont.; Biel, op. cit., iv. xv. 11.]
[Footnote 7: Quoted in Janssen, op. cit., vol. ii. p. 102.]
[Footnote 8: Roscher, Geschichte, p. 12.]
It must at the same time be clearly kept in mind that the seller
was also protected. All the authorities are unanimous that it was as
sinful for the buyer to give too little as for the seller to demand
too much, and it is this aspect of the just price which appears most
favourable in comparison with the theory of price of the classical
economists. In the former case prices were fixed having regard to
the wages necessary for the producer; in the latter the wages of the
producer are determined by the price at which he can sell his
goods, exposed to the competition of machinery or foreign—possibly
slave—labour.[1] According to the Catholic Encyclopædia: 'To the
mediæval theologian the just price of an article included enough
to pay fair wages to the worker—that is, enough to enable him to
maintain the standard of living of his class.'[2] 'The difference,'
says Dr. Cunningham, 'which emerges according as we start from one
principle or the other comes out most distinctly with reference to
wages. In the Middle Ages wages were taken as a first charge; in
modern times the reward of the labourer cannot but fluctuate in
connection with fluctuations in the utility and market price of the
things. There must always be a connection between wages and prices,
but in the olden times wages were the first charge, and prices on the
whole depended on them, while in modern times wages are, on the other
hand, directly affected by prices.'[3] Dr. Cunningham draws attention
to the fact that the labouring classes rejected the idea of the fixing
of a just price for their services when, from a variety of causes,
a situation arose when they were able to earn by open competition a
reward higher than what was necessary to support them according
to their state in life.[4] Nowadays the reverse has taken place;
unrestricted competition has in many cases resulted in the reduction
of wages to a level below the margin of subsistence; and the general
cry of the working classes is for the compulsory fixing of minimum
rates of wages which will ensure that their subsistence will not be
liable to be impaired by the fluctuations of the markets. What
the workers of the present day look to as a desirable, but almost
unattainable, ideal, was the universal practice in the ages when
economic relations were controlled by Christian principles.
[Footnote 1: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. i. p. 129.]
[Footnote 2: Art. 'Political Economy.']
[Footnote 3: Growth of English Industry and Commerce, vol. i. p.
461.]
[Footnote 4: Christianity and Economic Science, p. 29.]
§ 6. Was the Just Price Subjective or Objective?
The question whether the just price was essentially subjective or
objective has recently formed the subject matter of an interesting
and ably conducted discussion, provoked by certain remarks in Dr.
Cunningham's Western Civilisation.[1] Dr. Cunningham, although
admiring the ethical spirit which animated the conception of the just
price, thought at the same time that the economic ideas underlying the
conception were so undeveloped and unsound that the theory could not
be applied in practice at the present day. 'Their economic analysis
was very defective, and the theory of price which they put forward was
untenable; but the ethical standpoint which they took is well worth
examination, and the practical measures which they recommended appear
to have been highly beneficial in the circumstances in which they had
to deal. Their actions were not unwise; their common-sense morality
was sound; but the economic theories by which they tried to give an
intellectual justification for their rules and their practice were
quite erroneous…. The attempt to determine an ideal price implies
that there can and ought to be stability in relative values and
stability in the measure of values—which is absurd. The mediæval
doctrine and its application rested upon another assumption which we
have outlived. Value is not a quality which inheres in an object so
that it can have the same worth for everybody; it arises from the
personal preference and needs of different people, some of whom desire
a thing more and some less, some of whom want to use it in one way and
some in another. Value is not objective—intrinsic in the object—but
subjective, varying with the desire and intentions of the possessors
or would-be possessors; and, because it is thus subjective, there
cannot be a definite ideal value which every article ought to possess,
and still more a just price as the measure of that ideal value.' In
these and similar observations to be found in the Growth of English
History and Commerce, Dr. Cunningham showed that he profoundly
misunderstood the doctrine of the just price; the objectivity which
he attributed to it was not the objectivity ascribed to it by the
scholastics. It was to correct this misunderstanding that Father
Slater contributed an article to the Irish Theological Quarterly[2]
pointing out that the just price was subjective rather than objective.
This article, which was afterwards reprinted in Some Aspects of Moral
Theology, and the conclusions of which were embodied in the same
writer's work on Moral Theology, was controverted in a series of
articles by Father Kelleher in the Irish Theological Quarterly.[3]
[Footnote 1: Pp. 77-9.]
[Footnote 2: Vol. iv. p. 146.]
[Footnote 1: 'Market Prices,' vol. ix. p. 398 and vol. x. p. 163; and
'Father Slater on Just Price and Value,' vol. xi. p. 159.]
Father Slater draws attention to the fact that Dr. Cunningham
overlooked to some extent the importance of common estimation in
arriving at the just price. He points out that, far from objects being
invested with some immutable objective value, their value was in fact
determined by the price which the community as a whole was willing to
pay for them: 'As the value in exchange will be determined by what the
members of the community at the time are prepared to give, … it will
be determined by the social estimation of its utility for the support
of life and its scarcity. It will depend upon its capacity to satisfy
the wants and desires of the people with whom commercial transactions
are possible and practicable. Father Slater then goes on categorically
to refute Dr. Cunningham's presentation of the objectivity of price:
'All that that doctrine asserts is that there should be, and that
there is, an equivalent in social value between the commodity and
its price at a certain time and in a certain place; it says nothing
whatever about the stability or permanence of prices at different
times and at different places. By maintaining that the just price did
not depend upon the valuation of the individual buyer or seller the
mediæval doctors did not dream of making it intrinsic to the object.'
In the work on Moral Theology, to which we have referred, expressions
occur which lead one to believe that Father Slater did not see any
great difference between the mediæval just price arrived at by common
estimation and the modern normal or market price arrived at by
open competition. Thus, in endeavouring to correct Dr. Cunningham's
misunderstanding, Father Slater seems to have gone too far in the
other direction, and his position has been ably and, in our judgment,
successfully, controverted by Father Kelleher.
The point at issue between the upholders of the two opposing views
on just price is well stated by Father Kelleher in the first of his
articles on the subject: 'We must try to find out whether the just
and fair price determined the rate of exchange, or whether the rate
of exchange, being determined without an objective standard and merely
according to the play of human motives, determines what we call the
just and fair price.'[1] We have already demonstrated that the common
estimation referred to by the mediæval doctors was something quite
apart from the modern higgling in the market; and that, far from
being merely the result of unbridled competition on both sides, it
was rather the considered judgment of the best-informed members of the
community. As we have seen, even Dr. Cunningham admits that there
was a fundamental difference between the common estimation of
the scholastics and the modern competitive price. This is clearly
demonstrated by Father Kelleher, who further establishes the
proposition that the modern price is purely subjective, and that no
subjective price can rest on an ethical basis. The question at issue
therefore between what we may call the subjective and objective
schools is not whether the sale price was determined by competition
in the modern sense, but whether the common estimation of those best
qualified to form an opinion on the subject in itself determined the
just price, or whether it was merely the most reliable evidence of
what the just price in fact was at a particular moment.
[Footnote 1: Irish Theological Quarterly, vol. ix. p. 41.]
Father Kelleher draws attention to the fact that Aquinas in his
article on price did not specifically affirm that the just price
was objective, but he explains this omission by saying that the
objectivity of the price was so well and universally understood that
it was unnecessary expressly to restate it. Indeed, as we saw above,
the teaching of Aquinas on price left a great deal to be supplied by
later writers, not because he was in any doubt about the subject, but
because the theory was so well understood. 'Not even in St. Thomas can
we find a formal discussion of the moral obligation of observing an
objective equivalence in contracts of buying and selling. He simply
took it for granted, as, indeed, was inevitable, seeing that, up to
his time and for long after, all Catholic thought and legislation
proceeded on that hypothesis. But that he actually did take it for
granted, he has given many clear indications in his article on Justice
which leave us no room for reasonable doubt.'[1] As Father Kelleher
very cogently points out, the discussion in Aquinas's article on
commerce, whether it was lawful to buy cheap and sell dear, very
clearly indicates that the author maintained the objective theory,
because if the just price were simply determined by what people were
willing to give, this question could not have arisen.
[Footnote 1: Irish Theological Quarterly, vol. x. p. 165.]
Nor is the fact that the just price admitted of a certain elasticity
an argument in favour of its being subjective. Father Kelleher fully
admits that the common estimation was the general criterion of just
price, and, of course, the common estimation could not, of its very
nature, be rigid and immutable. Commodities should, indeed, exchange
according to their objective value, but, even so, commodities could
not carry their value stamped on their faces. Even if we assume that
the standard of exchange was the cost of production, there would still
remain room for a certain amount of difference of opinion as to what
exactly their value would be in particular instances. Suppose that the
commodity offered for sale was a suit of clothes, in estimating its
value on the basis of the cost of production, opinions might differ
as to the precise amount of time required for making it, or as to the
cost of the cloth out of which it was made. Unless recourse was to be
had to an almost interminable process of calculations, nobody could
say authoritatively what precisely the value was, and in practice the
determination of value had perforce to be left to the ordinary human
estimate of what it was, which of its very nature was bound to admit a
certain margin of fluctuation. Thus we can easily understand how, even
with an objective standard of value, the just price might be admitted
to vary within the limits of the maximum as it might be expected to
be estimated by sellers and the minimum as it would appear just to
buyers. The sort of estimation of which St. Thomas speaks is therefore
nothing else than a judgment, which, being human, is liable to be
slightly in excess or defect of the objective value about which it is
formed.'[1] As Father Kelleher puts it on a later page, 'There is a
sense certainly in which, with a solitary exception in the case of
wages, it may be said with perfect truth that the common estimation
determines the just price. That is, the common estimation is the
proximate practical criterion.'[2]
[Footnote 1: Irish Theological Quarterly, vol. x. p. 166.]
[Footnote 2: P. 173.]
Father Kelleher uses in support of his contention a very ingenious
argument drawn from the doctrine of usury. As we said in the first
chapter, and as we shall prove in detail in the next section, the
prohibition of usury was simply one of the applications of the theory
of equivalence in contracts—in other words, it was the determination
of the just price to be paid in an exchange of money for money. If,
asks Father Kelleher, the common estimation was the final test of just
price, why was not moderate usury allowed? That the general opinion of
the community in the Middle Ages was undoubtedly in favour of allowing
a reasonable percentage on loans is shown by the constant striving of
the Church to prevent such a practice. Nevertheless the Church did
not for a moment relax its teaching on usury in spite of the almost
universal judgment of the people. Here, therefore, is a clear example
of one contract in which the standard of value is clearly objective,
and it is only reasonable to draw the conclusion that the same
standard which applied in contracts of the exchange of money should
apply in contracts of the sale of other articles.
Father Kelleher's contention seems to be completely supported by the
passage from Nider which we have cited above, to the effect that the
common estimation ceases to be the final test of the just price when
the contracting parties know or believe that the common estimation has
erred.[1] This seems to us clearly to show that the common estimation
was but the most generally received test of what the just price
in fact was, but that it was in no sense a final or irrefutable
criterion.[2]
[Footnote 1: De Cont. Merc., ii. xv. Nider was regarded as a very
weighty authority on the subject of contracts (Endemann, Studien,
vol. ii. p. 8).]
[Footnote 2: The argument in favour of what we have called the
'objective' theory of the just price is strengthened by the
consideration that goods do not satisfy mere subjective whims, but
supply real wants. For example, food supplies a real need of the human
being, as also does clothing; in the one case hunger is appeased,
and in the other cold is warded off, just as drugs used in medical
practice produce real objective effects on the person taking them.]
The theory that the just price was objective seems to be accepted by
the majority of the best modern students of the subject. Sir William
Ashley says: 'The fundamental difference between the mediæval and
modern point of view is… that with us value is something entirely
subjective; it is what each individual cares to give for a thing. With
Aquinas it was entirely objective; something outside the will of
the individual purchaser or seller; something attached to the thing
itself, existing whether he liked it or not, and that he ought to
recognise.'[1] Palgrave's Dictionary of Political Economy, following
the authority of Knies, expresses the same opinion: 'Perhaps the
contrast between mediæval and modern ideas of value is best expressed
by saying that with us value is usually something subjective,
consisting of the mental determination of buyer and seller, while to
the schoolmen it was in a sense objective, something intrinsically
bound up with the commodity itself.'[2] Dr. Ryan agrees with this
view: 'The theologians of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
assumed that the objective price would be fair, since it was
determined by the social estimate. In their opinion the social
estimate would embody the requirements of objective justice as fully
as any device or institution that was practically available. For the
condition of the Middle Ages and the centuries immediately following,
this reasoning was undoubtedly correct. The agencies which created
the social estimate and determined prices—namely the civil law, the
guilds, and custom—succeeded fairly in establishing a price that was
equitable to all concerned.'[3] Dr. Cleary says: 'True, the pretium
legale is regarded as being a just price, but in order that it may
be just, it supposes some objective basis—in other words, it rather
declares than constitutes the just price.'[4] Haney is also strongly
of opinion that the just price was objective. 'Briefly stated, the
doctrine was that every commodity had some one true value which was
objective and absolute.'[5] The greater number of modern students
therefore who have given most care and attention to the question are
inclined to the opinion that the just price was not subjective, but
objective, and we see no valid reason for disagreeing with this view,
which seems to be fully warranted by the original authorities.
[Footnote 1: Op. cit., vol. i. pt. i. p. 140.]
[Footnote 2: Art. 'Justum Pretium.']
[Footnote 3: 'The Moral Aspect of Monopoly,' by J.A. Ryan, D.D.,
Irish Theological Quarterly, in. p. 275; and see Distributive
Justice, pp. 332-4.]
[Footnote 4: Op. cit., p. 193.]
[Footnote 5: History of Economic Thought, p. 75.]
§7. The Mediæval Attitude towards Commerce.
Before passing from the question of price, we must discuss the
legitimacy of the various occupations which were concerned with buying
and selling. The principal matter which arises for consideration
in this regard is the attitude of the mediæval theologians towards
commerce. Aquinas discusses the legitimacy of commerce in the same
question in which he discusses just price, and indeed the two subjects
are closely allied, because the importance of the observance of
justice in buying and selling grew urgent as commerce extended and
advanced.
In order to understand the disapprobation with which commerce was on
the whole regarded in the Middle Ages, it is necessary to appreciate
the importance of the Christian teaching on the dignity of labour. The
principle that, far from being a degrading or humiliating occupation,
as it had been regarded in Greece and Rome, manual labour was, on
the contrary, one of the most noble ways of serving God, effected
a revolution in the economic sphere analogous to that which the
Christian sanctification of marriage effected in the domestic sphere.
The Christian teaching on labour was grounded on the Divine precepts
contained in both the Old and New Testaments,[1] and upon the example
of Christ, who was Himself a working man. The Gospel was preached
amongst the poor, and St. Paul continued his humble labours during
his apostolate.[2] A life of idleness was considered something to be
avoided, instead of something to be desired, as it had been in the
ancient civilisations. Gerson says it is against the nature of man to
wish to live without labour as usurers do,[3] and Langenstein
inveighs against usurers and all who live without work.[4] 'We read
in Sebastian Brant that the idlers are the most foolish amongst fools,
they are to every people like smoke to the eyes or vinegar to
the teeth. Only by labour is God truly praised and honoured; and
Trithemius says "Man is born to labour as the bird to fly, and hence
it is contrary to the nature of man when he thinks to live without
work."'[5] The example of the monasteries, where the performance
of all sorts of manual labour was not thought inconsistent with the
administration of the sacred offices and the pursuit of the highest
intellectual exercises, acted as a powerful assertion to the laity
of the dignity of labour in the scheme of things.[6] The value of the
monastic example in this respect cannot be too highly estimated. 'When
we consider the results of the founding of monasteries,' says Dr.
Cunningham, 'we find influences at work that were plainly economic.
These communities can be best understood when we think of them as
Christian industrial colonies, and remember that they moulded society
rather by example than by precept. We are so familiar with the attacks
and satires on monastic life that were current at the Reformation
period, that it may seem almost a paradox to say that the chief
claim of the monks to our gratitude lies in this, that they helped to
diffuse a better appreciation of the duty and dignity of labour.'[7]
[Footnote 1: Gen. iii. 19; Ps. cxxvii. 2; 2 Thess. iii. 10. The
last-mentioned text is explained, in opposition to certain Socialist
interpretations which have been put on it, by Dr. Hogan in the Irish
Ecclesiastical Record, vol. xxv. p. 45.]
[Footnote 2: Wallon, op. cit., vol. iii. p. 401.]
[Footnote 3: De Cont., i. 13.]
[Footnote 4: De Cont.]
[Footnote 5: Janssen, op. cit., vol. ii. pp. 93-4.]
[Footnote 6: Levasseur, Histoire des Classes ouvrières en France,
vol. i. pp. 182 et seq.]
[Footnote 7: Western Civilisation, vol. ii. p. 35.]
The result of this teaching and example was that, in the Middle Ages,
labour had been raised to a position of unquestioned dignity. The
economic benefit of this attitude towards labour must be obvious. It
made the working classes take a direct pride and interest in their
work, which was represented to be a means of sanctification. 'Labour,'
according to Dr. Cunningham, 'was said to be pregnant with a double
advantage—the privilege of sharing with God in His work of carrying
out His purpose, and the opportunity of self-discipline and the
helping of one's fellow-men.'[1] 'Industrial work,' says Levasseur,
'in the times of antiquity had always had, in spite of the
institutions of certain Emperors, a degrading character, because it
had its roots in slavery; after the invasion, the grossness of the
barbarians and the levelling of towns did not help to rehabilitate it.
It was the Church which, in proclaiming that Christ was the son of
a carpenter, and the Apostles were simple workmen, made known to the
world that work is honourable as well as necessary. The monks proved
this by their example, and thus helped to give to the working classes
a certain consideration which ancient society had denied them. Manual
labour became a source of sanctification.'[2] The high esteem in which
labour was held appears from the whole artistic output of the Middle
Ages. 'Many of the simple artists of the time represented the saints
holding some instrument of work or engaged in some industrial pursuit;
as, for instance, the Blessed Virgin spinning as she sat by the cradle
of the divine Infant, and St. Joseph using a saw or carpenter's tools.
"Since the Saints," says the Christian Monitor, "have laboured, so
shall the Christian learn that by honourable labour he can glorify
God, do good, and save his own soul."'[3] Work was, alongside of
prayer and inseparable from it, the perfection of Christian life.[4]
[Footnote 1: Christianity and Economic Science, pp. 26-7.]
[Footnote 2: Op. cit., vol. i. p. 187.]
[Footnote 3: Janssen, op. cit., vol. ii. p. 9.]
[Footnote 4: Wallon, op. cit., vol. i. p. 410.]
It must not be supposed, however, that manual labour alone was thought
worthy of praise. On the contrary, the necessity for mental and
spiritual workers was fully appreciated, and all kinds of labour
were thought equally worthy of honour. 'Heavy labourer's work is the
inevitable yoke of punishment, which, according to God's righteous
verdict, has been laid upon all the sons of Adam. But many of Adam's
descendants seek in all sorts of cunning ways to escape from the yoke
and to live in idleness without labour, and at the same time to have
a superfluity of useful and necessary things; some by robbery and
plunder, some by usurious dealings, others by lying, deceit, and all
the countless, forms of dishonest and fraudulent gain, by which men
are for ever seeking to get riches and abundance without toil. But
while such men are striving to throw off the yoke righteously imposed
on them by God, they are heaping on their shoulders a heavy burden
of sin. Not so, however, do the reasonable sons of Adam proceed; but,
recognising in sorrow that for the sins of their first father God has
righteously ordained that only through the toil of labour shall they
obtain what is necessary to life, they take the yoke patiently on
them…. Some of them, like the peasants, the handicraftsmen, and the
tradespeople, procure for themselves and others, in the sweat of their
brows and by physical work, the necessary sustenance of life. Others,
who labour in more honourable ways, earn the right to be maintained by
the sweat of others' brows—for instance, those who stand at the head
of the commonwealth; for by their laborious exertion the former are
enabled to enjoy the peace, the security, without which they could not
exist. The same holds good of those who have the charge of spiritual
matters….'[1] 'Because,' says Aquinas, 'many things are necessary to
human life, with which one man cannot provide himself, it is necessary
that different things should be done by different people; therefore
some are tillers of the soil, some are raisers of cattle, some are
builders, and so on; and, because human life does not simply mean
corporal things, but still more spiritual things, therefore it
is necessary that some people should be released from the care of
attending to temporal matters. This distribution of different offices
amongst different people is in accordance with Divine providence.'[2]
[Footnote 1: Langenstein, quoted in Janssen, op. cit., p. 95.]
[Footnote 2: Summa Cont. Gent., iii. 134.]
All forms of labour being therefore admitted to be honourable and
necessary, there was no difficulty felt about justifying their reward.
It was always common ground that services of all kinds were entitled
to be properly remunerated, and questions of difficulty only arose
when a claim was made for payment in a transaction where the element
of service was not apparent.[1] The different occupations in which men
were engaged were therefore ranked in a well-recognised hierarchy
of dignity according to the estimate to which they were held to
be entitled. The Aristotelean division of industry into artes
possessivae and artes pecuniativae was generally followed, the
former being ranked higher than the latter. 'The industries called
possessivae, which are immediately useful to the individual, to the
family, and to society, producing natural wealth, are also the most
natural as well as the most estimable. But all the others should not
be despised. The natural arts are the true economic arts, but the arts
which produce artificial riches are also estimable in so far as they
serve the true national economy; the commutation of the exchanges and
the cambium being necessary to the general good, are good in so far
as they are subordinate to the end of true economy. One may say the
same thing about commerce. In order, then, to estimate the value of an
industrial art, one must examine its relation to the general good.'[2]
Even the artes possessivae were not all considered equally worthy of
praise, but were ranked in a curious order of professional hierarchy.
Agriculture was considered the highest, next manufacture, and lastly
commerce. Roscher says that, whereas all the scholastics were agreed
on the excellence of agriculture as an occupation, the best they could
say of manufacture was Deo non displicet, whereas of commerce they
said Deo placere non potest; and draws attention to the interesting
consequence of this, namely, that the various classes of goods that
took part in the different occupations were also ranked in a certain
order of sacredness. Immovables were thought more worthy of protection
against execution and distress than movables, and movables than
money.[3] Aquinas advises the rulers of States to encourage the artes
possessivae, especially agriculture.[4] The fullest analysis of the
order in which the different artes possessivae should be ranked is
to be found in Buridan's Commentaries on Aristotle's Politics. He
places first agriculture, which comprises cattle-breeding, tillage,
and hunting; secondly, manufacture, which helps to supply man's
corporal needs, such as building and architecture; thirdly,
administrative occupations; and lastly, commerce. The Christian
Exhortation, quoted by Janssen,[5] says, 'The farmer must in all
things be protected and encouraged, for all depend on his labour,
from the monarch to the humblest of mankind, and his handiwork is in
particular honourable and well pleasing to God.'
[Footnote 1: Aquinas, Summa, II. ii. 77, 4; Nider, op. cit., II.
x.]
[Footnote 2: Brants, op. cit., p. 82.]
[Footnote 3: Geschichte, p. 7.]
[Footnote 4: De Regimine Principum, vol. ii. chaps, v. and vi.]
[Footnote 5: Op. cit., vol. i. p. 297.]
The division of occupations according to their dignity adopted by
Nicholas Oresme is somewhat unusual. He divides professions into (1)
honourable, or those which increase the actual quantity of goods in
the community or help its development, such as ecclesiastical offices,
the law, the soldiery, the peasantry, artisans, and merchants, and
(2) degrading—such as campsores, mercatores monetae sen
billonatores.'[1]
No occupation, therefore, which involved labour, whether manual
or mental, gave any ground for difficulty with regard to its
remuneration. The business of the trader or merchant, on the other
hand, was one which called for some explanation. It is important
to understand what commerce was taken to mean. The definition which
Aquinas gives was accepted by all later writers: 'A tradesman is one
whose business consists in the exchange of things. According to the
philosopher, exchange of things is twofold; one natural, as it were,
and necessary, whereby one commodity is exchanged for another, or
money taken in exchange for a commodity in order to satisfy the needs
of life. Such trading, properly speaking, does not belong to traders,
but rather to housekeepers or civil servants, who have to provide the
household or the State with the necessaries of life. The other kind
of exchange is either that of money for money, or of any commodity for
money, not on account of the necessities of life, but for profit; and
this kind of trade, properly speaking, regards traders.' It is to
be remarked in this definition, that it is essential, to constitute
trade, that the exchange or sale should be for the sake of profit,
and this point is further emphasised in a later passage of the same
article: 'Not every one that sells at a higher price than he bought
is a trader, but only he who buys that he may sell at a profit. If,
on the contrary, he buys, not for sale, but for possession, and
afterwards for some reason wishes to sell, it is not a trade
transaction, even if he sell at a profit. For he may lawfully do this,
either because he has bettered the thing, or because the value of the
thing has changed with the change of place or time, or on account
of the danger he incurs in transferring the thing from one place to
another, or again in having it carried by hand. In this sense neither
buying nor selling is unjust.'[2] The importance of this definition
is that it rules out of the discussion all cases where the goods have
been in any way improved or rendered more valuable by the services
of the seller. Such improvement was always reckoned as the result of
labour of one kind or another, and therefore entitled to remuneration.
The essence of trade in the scholastic sense was selling the thing
unchanged at a higher price than that at which it had been bought, for
the sake of gain.[3]
[Footnote 1: Tractatus de Origine, etc., Monetarum.]
[Footnote 2: Tractatus de Origine, etc., Monetarum, ad. 2.]
[Footnote 3: 'Fit autem mercatio cum non ut emptor ea utatur sed ut
earn carius vendat etiam non mutatam suo artificio; illa mercatio
dicitur proprie negotiatio' (Biel, op. cit., IV. xv. 10.)]
The legitimacy of trade in this sense was only gradually admitted. The
Fathers of the Church had with one voice condemned trade as being an
occupation fraught with danger to the soul. Tertullian argued that
there would be no need of trade if there were no desire for gain, and
that there would be no desire for gain if man were not avaricious.
Therefore avarice was the necessary basis of all trade.[1] St. Jerome
thought that one man's gain in trading must always be another's loss;
and that, in any event, trade was a dangerous occupation since it
offered so many temptations to fraud to the merchant.[2] St. Augustine
proclaimed all trade evil because it turns men's minds away from
seeking true rest, which is only to be found in God, and this opinion
was embodied in the Corpus Juris Canonici.[3] This early view that
all trade was to be indiscriminately condemned could not in the nature
of things survive experience, and a great step forward was taken
when Leo the Great pronounced that trade was neither good nor bad in
itself, but was rendered good or bad according as it was honestly or
dishonestly carried on.[4]
[Footnote 1: De Idol., xi.]
[Footnote 2: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. i. p. 129.]
[Footnote 3: See Corpus Juris Canonici, Deer. I.D. 88 c. 12.]
[Footnote 4: Epist. ad Rusticum, c. ix.]
The scholastics, in addition to condemning commerce on the authority
of the patristic texts, condemned it also on the Aristotelean ground
that it was a chrematistic art, and this consideration, as we have
seen above, enters into Aquinas's article on the subject.[1]
[Footnote 1: Rambaud, op. cit., p. 52.]
The extension of commercial life which took place about the beginning
of the thirteenth century, raised acute controversies about the
legitimacy of commerce. Probably nothing did more to broaden the
teaching on this subject than the necessity of justifying trade which
became more and more insistent after the Crusades.[1]
[Footnote 1: On the economic influence of the Crusades the following
works may be consulted: Blanqui, Histoire de l'Economie politique;
Heeren, Essai sur l'Influence politique et sociale des Croisades;
Scherer, Histoire du Commerce; Prutz, Culturgeschichte der
Kreuzzüge; Pigonneau, Histoire du Commerce de la France; List, Die
Lehren der Handelspolitischen Geschichte.]
By the time of Aquinas the necessity of commerce had come to be fully
realised, as appears from the passage in the De Regimine Principum:
'There are two ways in which it is possible to increase the affluence
of any State. One, which is the more worthy way, is on account of the
fertility of the country producing an abundance of all things which
are necessary for human life, the other is through the employment
of commerce, through which the necessaries of life are brought from
different places. The former method can be clearly shown to be the
more desirable…. It is more admirable that a State should possess an
abundance of riches from its own soil than through commerce. For the
State which needs a number of merchants to maintain its subsistence
is liable to be injured in war through a shortage of food if
communications are in any way impeded. Moreover, the influx of
strangers corrupts the morals of many of the citizens… whereas,
if the citizens themselves devote themselves to commerce, a door is
opened to many vices. For when the desire of merchants is inclined
greatly to gain, cupidity is aroused in the hearts of many
citizens…. For the pursuit of a merchant is as contrary as possible
to military exertion. For merchants abstain from labours, and while
they enjoy the good things of life, they become soft in mind and their
bodies are rendered weak and unsuitable for military exercises….
It therefore behoves the perfect State to make a moderate use of
commerce.'[1]
[Footnote 1: ii. 3.]
Aquinas, who, as we have seen, recognised the necessity of commerce,
did not condemn all trade indiscriminately, as the Fathers had done,
but made the motive with which commerce was carried on the test of its
legitimacy: 'Trade is justly deserving of blame, because, considered
in itself, it satisfies the greed for gain, which knows no limit, and
tends to infinity. Hence trading, considered in itself, has a certain
debasement attaching thereto, in so far as, by its very nature, it
does not imply a virtuous or necessary end. Nevertheless gain, which
is the end of trading, though not implying, by its nature, anything
virtuous or necessary, does not, in itself, connote anything sinful
or contrary to virtue; wherefore nothing prevents gain from being
directed to some necessary or even virtuous end, and thus trading
becomes lawful. Thus, for instance, a man may intend the moderate gain
which he seeks to acquire by trading for the upkeep of his household,
or for the assistance of the needy; or again, a man may take to trade
for some public advantage—for instance, lest his country lack the
necessaries of life—and seek gain, not as an end, but as payment for
his labour.'[1] This is important in connection with what we have said
above as to property, as it shows that the trader was quite justified
in seeking to obtain more profits, provided that they accrued for the
benefit of the community. This justification of trade according to the
end for which it was carried on, was not laid down for the first time
by Aquinas, but may be found stated in an English treatise of the
tenth century entitled The Colloquy of Archbishop Alfric, where,
when a doctor asks a merchant if he wishes to sell his goods for the
same price for which he has bought them, the merchant replies: 'I do
not wish to do so, because if I do so, how would I be recompensed for
my trouble? but I wish to sell them for more than I paid for them so
that I might secure some gain wherewith to support myself, my wife,
and family.'[2]
[Footnote 1: II. ii. 77, 4.]
[Footnote 2: Loria, Analysi de la proprietà, capitalista, ii. 168.]
In spite of the fact that the earlier theory that no commercial gain
which did not represent payment for labour could be justified
was still maintained by some writers—for instance, Raymond de
Pennafort[1]—the teaching of St. Thomas Aquinas was generally
accepted throughout the later Middle Ages. Canonists and theologians
accepted without hesitation the justification of trade formulated by
Aquinas.[2] Henri de Gand,[3] Duns Scotus,[4] and François de Mayronis
[5] unhesitatingly accepted the view of Aquinas, and incorporated it
in their works.[6] 'An honourable merchant,' says Trithemius, 'who
does not only think of large profits, and who is guided in all his
dealings by the laws of God and man, and who gladly gives to the needy
of his wealth and earnings, deserves the same esteem as any other
worker. But it is no easy matter to be always honourable in all
mercantile dealings and not to become usurious. Without commerce
no community can of course exist, but immoderate commerce is rather
hurtful than beneficial, because it fosters greed of gain and gold,
and enervates and emasculates the nation through love of pleasure
and luxury.'[7] Nider says that to buy not for use but for sale at a
higher price is called trade. Two special rules apply to this: first,
that it should be useful to the State, and second, that the price
should correspond to the diligence, prudence, and risk undertaken in
the transaction.[8]
[Footnote 1: Summa Theologica, II. vii. 5.]
[Footnote 2: Ashley, op. cit., p. 55.]
[Footnote 3: Quodlib., i. 40.]
[Footnote 4: Lib. Quat. Sent., xv. 2.]
[Footnote 5: iv. 16, 4.]
[Footnote 6: See Jourdain, op. cit., p. 20 et seq.]
[Footnote 7: Quoted in Janssen, op. cit., vol. ii. p. 97.]
[Footnote 8: Op. cit., iv. 10.]
The later writers hi the fifteenth century seem to have regarded trade
more liberally even than Aquinas, although they quote his dictum on
the subject as the basis of their teaching. Instead of condemning all
commerce as wrong unless it was justified by good motives, they were
rather inclined to treat commerce as being in itself colourless, but
capable of becoming evil by bad motives. Carletus says: 'Commerce in
itself is neither bad nor illegal, but it may become bad on account
of the circumstances and the motive with which it is undertaken, the
persons who undertake it, or the manner in which it is conducted. For
instance, commerce undertaken through avarice or a desire for sloth is
bad; so also is commerce which is injurious to the republic, such as
engrossing.'[1]
[Footnote 1: Summa Angelica, 169: 'Mercatio non est mala ex genere,
sed bona, humano convictui necessaria dum fuerit justa. Mercatio
simpliciter non est peccatum sed ejus abusus.' Biel, op. cit., iv.
xv. 10.]
Endemann, having thoroughly studied all the fifteenth-century writers
on the subject, says that commerce might be rendered unjustifiable
either by subjective or objective reasons. Subjective illegality would
arise from the person trading—for instance, the clergy—or the motive
with which trade was undertaken; objective illegality on account of
the object traded in, such as weapons in war-time, or the bodies
of free men.[1] Speculative trading, and what we to-day call
profiteering, were forbidden in all circumstances.[2]
[Footnote 1: Studien, vol. ii. p. 18.]
[Footnote 2: The Ayenbite of Inwit, a thirteenth-century confessor's
manual, lays it down that speculation is a kind of usury. (Rambaud,
Histoire, p. 56.)]
We need not dwell upon the prohibition of trading by the clergy,
because it was simply a rule of discipline which has not any bearing
upon general economic teaching, except in so far as it shows that
commerce was considered an occupation dangerous to virtue. Aquinas
puts it as follows: 'Clerics should abstain not only from things that
are evil in themselves, but even from those that have an appearance of
evil. This happens in trading, both because it is directed to worldly
gain, which clerics should despise, and because trading is open to so
many vices, since "a merchant is hardly free from sins of the lips."
[1] There is also another reason, because trading engages the mind too
much with worldly cares, and consequently withdraws it from spiritual
cares; wherefore the Apostle says:[2] "No man being a soldier to God
entangleth himself with secular business." Nevertheless it is lawful
for clerics to engage in the first-mentioned kind of exchange, which
is directed to supply the necessaries of life, either by buying or by
selling.'[3] The rule of St. Benedict contains a strong admonition to
those who may be entrusted with the sale of any of the products of the
monastery, to avoid all fraud and avarice.[4]
[Footnote 1: Eccles. xxvi. 28.]
[Footnote 2: 2 Tim. ii. 4.]
[Footnote 3: Summa, II. ii. 77, 4, ad. 3.]
[Footnote 4: Beg. St. Ben., 57.]
On the whole, the attitude towards commerce seems to have grown more
liberal in the course of the Middle Ages. At first all commerce was
condemned as sinful; at a later period it was said to be justifiable
provided it was influenced by good motives; while at a still later
date the method of treatment was rather to regard it as a colourless
act in itself which might be rendered harmful by the presence of bad
motives. This gradual broadening of the justification of commerce is
probably a reflection of the necessities of the age, which witnessed a
very great expansion of commerce, especially of foreign trade. In the
earlier centuries remuneration for undertaking risk was prohibited on
the authority of a passage in the Gregorian Decretals, but the later
writers refused to disallow it.[1] The following passage from Dr.
Cunningham's Growth of English Industry and Commerce correctly
represents the attitude of the Church towards commerce at the end
of the Middle Ages: 'The ecclesiastic who regarded the merchant as
exposed to temptations in all his dealings would not condemn him as
sinful unless it were clear that a transaction were entered on
solely for greed, and hence it was the tendency for moralists to draw
additional distinctions, and refuse to pronounce against business
practices where common sense did not give the benefit of the
doubt.'[2] We have seen that one motive which would justify the
carrying on of trade was the desire to support one's self and one's
family. Of course this motive was capable of bearing a very extended
and elastic interpretation, and would justify increased commercial
profits according as the standard of life improved. The other motive
given by the theologians, namely, the benefit of the State, was also
one which was capable of a very wide construction. One must remember
that even the manual labourer was bound not to labour solely for
avaricious gain, but also for the benefit of his fellow-men. 'It is
not only to chastise our bodies,' says Basil, 'it is also by the love
of our neighbour that the labourer's life is useful so that God may
furnish through us our weaker brethren';[3] and a fifteenth-century
book on morality says: 'Man should labour for the honour of God.
He should labour in order to gain for himself and his family the
necessaries of life and what will contribute to Christian joy, and
moreover to assist the poor and the sick by his labours. He who acting
otherwise seeks only the pecuniary recompense of his work does ill,
and his labours are but usury. In the words of St. Augustine, "thou
shalt not commit usury with the work of thy hands, for thus wilt thou
lose thy soul,"'[4] The necessity for altruism and regard for the
needs of one's neighbour as well as of one's self were therefore
motives necessary to justify labour as well as commerce; and it would
be wrong to conclude that the teaching of the scholastics on the
necessity for a good motive to justify trade operated to damp
individual enterprise, or to discourage those who were inclined to
launch commercial undertakings, any more than the insistence on the
need for a similar motive in labourers was productive of idleness.
What the mediæval teaching on commerce really amounted to was that,
while commerce was as legitimate as any other occupation, owing to the
numerous temptations to avarice and dishonesty which it involved, it
must be carefully scrutinised and kept within due bounds. It was more
difficult to insure the observance of the just price in the case of
a sale by a merchant than in one by an artificer; and the power which
the merchant possessed of raising the price of the necessaries of life
on the poor by engrossing and speculation rendered him a person whose
operations should be carefully controlled.
[Footnote 1: Cunningham, Growth of English Industry and Commerce,
vol. i. p. 255.]
[Footnote 2: P. 255.]
[Footnote 3: Reg. Fus. Tract., XXXVII. i.]
[Footnote 4: Quoted in Janssen, op. cit., vol. ii. p. 9.]
Finally, it must be clearly understood that the attempt of some modern
writers to base the mediæval justification of commerce on an analysis
of all commercial gains as the payment for labour rests on a profound
misunderstanding. As we have already pointed out, Aquinas distinctly
rules out of consideration in his treatment of commerce the case
where the goods have been improved in value by the exertions of the
merchant. When the element of labour entered into the transaction the
matter was clearly beyond doubt, and the lengthy discussion devoted
to the question of commerce by Aquinas and his followers shows that in
justifying commercial gains they were justifying a gain resting not on
the remuneration for the labour, but on an independent title.
§ 8. Cambium.
There was one department of commerce, namely, cambium, or
money-changing, which, while it did not give any difficulty in theory,
involved certain difficulties in practice, owing to the fact that
it was liable to be used to disguise usurious transactions. Although
cambium was, strictly speaking, a special branch of commerce, it was
nevertheless usually treated in the works on usury, the reason being
that many apparent contracts of cambium were in fact veiled loans,
and that it was therefore a matter of importance in discussing usury
to explain the tests by which genuine and usurious exchanges could be
distinguished. Endemann treats this subject very fully and ably;[1]
but for the purpose of the present essay it is not necessary to do
more than to state the main conclusions at which he arrives.
[Footnote 1: Studien, vol. i. p. 75.]
Although the practice of exchange grew up slowly and gradually during
the later Middle Ages, and, consequently, the amount of space devoted
to the discussion of the theory of exchange became larger as time went
on, nevertheless there is no serious difference of opinion between
the writers of the thirteenth century, who treat the subject in
a fragmentary way, and those of the fifteenth, who deal with it
exhaustively and systematically. Aquinas does not mention cambium
in the Summa, but he recognises the necessity for some system of
exchange in the De Eegimine Principum.[1] All the later writers who
mention cambium are agreed in regarding it as a species of commerce
to which the ordinary rules regulating all commerce apply. Francis
de Mayronis says that the art of cambium is as natural as any
other kind of commerce, because of the diversity of the currencies
in different kingdoms, and approves of the campsor receiving some
remuneration for his labour and trouble.[2] Nicholas de Ausmo, in
his commentary on the Summa Pisana, written in the beginning of the
fifteenth century, says that the campsor may receive a gain from
his transactions, provided that they are not conducted with the sole
object of making a profit, and that the gain he may receive must
be limited by the common estimation of the place and time. This is
practically saying that cambium may be carried on under the same
conditions as any other species of commerce. Biel says that cambium
is only legitimate if the campsor has the motive of keeping up a
family or benefiting the State, and that the contract may become
usurious if the gain is not fair and moderate.[3] The right of the
campsor to some remuneration for risk was only gradually admitted,
and forms the subject of much discussion amongst the jurists.[4]
This hesitation in allowing remuneration for risk was not peculiar
to cambium, but, as we have seen above, was common to all commerce.
Endemann points out how the theologians and jurists unanimously
insisted that cambium could not be justified except when the just
price was observed, and that, when the doctrine attained its full
development, the element of labour was but one of the constituents in
the estimation of that price.[5]
[Footnote 1: 'Cum enim extraneae monetae communicantur in
permutationibus oportet recurrere ad artem campsoriam, cum talia
numismata non tantum valeant in regionibus extraneis quantum in
propriis (De Reg. Prin., ii. 13).]
[Footnote 2: In Quot. Lib. Sent., iv. 16, 4.]
[Footnote 3: Op. oil., IV. xv. 11.]
[Footnote 4: Endemann, Studien, vol. i. pp. 123-36.]
[Footnote 5: Ibid., p. 213.]
All the writers who treated of exchange divided it into three kinds;
ordinary exchange of the moneys of different currencies (cambium
minutum), exchange of moneys of different currencies between
different places, the justification for which rested on remuneration
for an imaginary transport (cambium per litteras), and usurious
exchange of moneys of the same currency (cambium siccum). The
former two species of cambium were justifiable, whereas the last was
condemned.[1]
[Footnote 1: Laurentius de Rodulfis, De Usuris, pt. iii. Nos. 1 to
5.]
The most complete treatise on the subject of money exchange is that
of Thomas da Vio, written in 1499. The author of this treatise divides
money-changing into three kinds, just, unjust, and doubtful. There
were three kinds of just change; cambium minutum, in which the
campsor was entitled to a reasonable remuneration for his labour;
cambium per litteras, in which the campsor was held entitled to a
wage (merces) for an imaginary transportation; and thirdly, when
the campsor carried money from one place to another, where it was of
higher value. The unjust change was when the contract was a usurious
transaction veiled in the guise of a genuine exchange. Under the
doubtful changes, the author discusses various special points which
need not detain us here.
Thomas da Vio then goes on to discuss whether the justifiable exchange
can be said to be a species of loan, and concludes that it can not,
because all that the campsor receives is an indemnity against loss
and a remuneration for his labour, trouble, outlay, and risk, which
is always justifiable. He then goes on to state the very important
principle, that in cambium money is not to be considered a measure
of value, but a vendible commodity,[1] a distinction which Endemann
thinks was productive of very important results in the later teaching
on the subject.[2] The last question treated in the treatise is the
measure of the campsor's profit, and here the contract of exchange
is shown to be on all fours with every other contract, because the
essential principle laid down for determining its justice is the
observance of the equivalence between both parties.[1]
[Footnote 1: 'Numisma quamvis sit mensura et instrumentum in
permutationibus; tamen per se aliquid esse potest.' It is this
principle that justifies the treatment of cambium in this section
rather than the next.]
[Footnote 2: Studien, vol. ii. p. 212.]
§ 1. Usury in Greece and Rome.
The prohibition of usury has always occupied such a large place in
histories of the Middle Ages, and particularly in discussions relating
to the attitude of the Church towards economic questions, that it is
important that its precise foundation and extent should be carefully
studied. The usury prohibition has been the centre of so many bitter
controversies, that it has almost become part of the stock-in-trade of
the theological mob orators. The attitude of the Church towards usury
only takes a slightly less prominent place than its attitude towards
Galileo in the utterances of those who are anxious to convict it of
error. We have referred to this current controversy, not in order that
we might take a part in it, but that, on the contrary, we might avoid
it. It is no part of our purpose in our treatment of this subject to
discuss whether the usury prohibition was or was not suitable to
the conditions of the Middle Ages; whether it did or did not impede
industrial enterprise and commercial expansion; or whether it was or
was not universally disregarded and evaded in real life. These are
inquiries which, though full of interest, would not be in place in
a discussion of theory. All we are concerned to do in the following
pages is to indicate the grounds on which the prohibition of usury
rested, the precise extent of its application, and the conceptions of
economic theory which it indicated and involved.
[Footnote 1: Brants has a very luminous and interesting section on
Cambium, Op. cit., p. 214 et seq.]
We must remark in the first place that the prohibition of usury was in
no sense peculiar to the Catholic Church in the Middle Ages, but,
on the contrary, was to be found in many other religious and legal
systems—for instance, in the writings of the Greek and Roman
philosophers, amongst the Jews, and the followers of Mohammed. We
shall give a very brief account of the other prohibitions of usury
before coming to deal with the scholastic teaching on the subject.
We can find no trace of any legal prohibition of usury in ancient
Greece. Although Solon's laws contained many provisions for the relief
of poor debtors, they did not forbid the taking of interest, nor did
they limit the rate of interest that might be taken.[1] In Rome the
Twelve Tables fixed a maximum rate of interest, which was probably
ten or twelve per cent, per annum, but which cannot be determined
with certainty owing to the doubtful signification of the expression
'unciarum foenus.' The legal rate of interest was gradually reduced
until the year 347 B.C., when five per cent, was fixed as a maximum.
In 342 B.C. interest was forbidden altogether by the Genucian Law;
but this law, though never repealed, was in practice quite inoperative
owing to the facility with which it could be evaded; and consequently
the oppression of borrowers was prevented by the enactment, or perhaps
it would be more correct to say the general recognition, of a maximum
rate of interest of twelve per cent. per annum. This maximum rate—the
Centesima—remained in operation until the time of Justinian.[2]
Justinian, who was under the influence of Christian teaching, and who
might therefore be expected to have regarded usury with unfavourable
eyes, fixed the following maximum rates of interest—maritime loans
twelve per cent.; loans to ordinary persons, not in business, six per
cent.; loans to high personages (illustres) and agriculturists, four
per cent.[3]
[Footnote 1: Cleary, The Church and Usury, p. 21.]
[Footnote 2: Hunter, Roman Law, pp. 652-53; Cleary, op. cit., pp.
22-6; Roscher, Political Economy, s. 90.]
[Footnote 3: Code 4, 32, 26, 1.]
While the taking of interest was thus approved or tolerated by Greek
and Roman law, it was at the same time reprobated by the philosophers
of both countries. Plato objects to usury because it tends to set one
class, the poor or the borrowers, against another, the rich or the
lenders; and goes so far as to make it wrong for the borrower to repay
either the principal or interest of his debt. He further considers
that the profession of the usurer is to be despised, as it is an
illiberal and debasing way of making money.[1] While Plato therefore
disapproves in no ambiguous words of usury, he does not develop the
philosophical bases of his objection, but is content to condemn it
rather for its probable ill effects than on account of its inherent
injustice.
[Footnote 1: Laws, v. ch. 11-13.]
Aristotle condemns usury because it is the most extreme and dangerous
form of chrematistic acquisition, or the art of making money for
its own sake. As we have seen above, in discussing the legitimacy of
commerce, buying cheap and selling dear was one form of chrematistic
acquisition, which could only be justified by the presence of certain
motives; and usury, according to the philosopher, was a still more
striking example of the same kind of acquisition, because it consisted
in making money from money, which was thus employed for a function
different from that for which it had been originally invented. 'Usury
is most reasonably detested, as the increase of our fortune arises
from the money itself, and not by employing it for the purpose for
which it was intended. For it was devised for the sake of exchange,
but usury multiplies it. And hence usury has received the name of
[Greek: tokos], or produce; for whatever is produced is itself like
its parents; and usury is merely money born of money; so that of all
means of money-making it is the most contrary to nature.'[1] We need
not pause here to discuss the precise significance of Aristotle's
conceptions on this subject, as they are to us not so much of
importance in themselves, as because they suggested a basis for the
treatment of usury to Aquinas and his followers.[2]
[Footnote 1: Aristotle, Politics, i. 10.]
[Footnote 2: Cleary, op. cit., p. 29.]
In Rome, as in Greece, the philosophers and moralists were unanimous
in their condemnation of the practice of usury. Cicero condemns usury
as being hateful to mankind, and makes Cato say that it is on the
same level of moral obliquity as murder; and Seneca makes a point that
became of some importance in the Middle Ages, namely, that usury is
wrongful because it involves the selling of time.[1] Plutarch develops
the argument that money is sterile, and condemns the practices
of contemporary money-lenders as unjust.[2] The teaching of the
philosophers as to the unlawfulness of usury was reflected in the
popular feeling of the time.[3]
[Footnote 1: Cleary, op. cit., p. 29.]
[Footnote 2: De Vitando Aere Alieno.]
[Footnote 3: Espinas, op. cit., pp. 81-2; Roscher, Political
Economy, s. 90.]
§ 2. Usury in the Old Testament.
The question of usury therefore attracted considerable attention in
the teaching and practice of pagan antiquity. It occupied an equally
important place in the Old Testament. In Exodus we find the first
prohibition of usury: 'If thou lend money to any of my people being
poor, thou shalt not be to him as a creditor, neither shall ye lay
upon him usury.'[1] In Leviticus we read: 'And if thy brother be waxen
poor, and his hand fail with thee; then, thou must uphold him; as a
stranger and a sojourner shall he live with thee. Take thou no money
of him or increase, but fear thy God that thy brother may live with
thee. Thou shalt not give him thy money upon usury, nor give him
victuals for increase.'[2] Deuteronomy lays down a wider prohibition:
'Thou shalt not lend upon usury to thy brother; usury of money,
usury of victuals, usury of anything that is lent upon usury; unto
a foreigner thou mayest lend upon usury, but unto thy brother thou
mayest not lend upon usury.'[3] It will be noticed that the first and
second of these texts do not forbid usury except in the case of loans
to the poor, and, if we had them alone to consider, we could conclude
that loans to the rich or to business men were allowed. The last text,
however, extends the prohibition to all loans to one's brother—an
expression which was of importance in Christian times, as Christian
writers maintained the universal brotherhood of man.
[Footnote 1: Exod. xxii. 25.]
[Footnote 2: Lev. xxv. 35.]
[Footnote 3: Deut. xxiii. 19.]
It is unnecessary for us to discuss the underlying considerations
which prompted these ordinances. Dr. Cleary, who has studied the
matter with great care, concludes that: 'The legislator was urged
mostly by economic considerations…. The permission to extract usury
from strangers—a permission which later writers, such as Maimonides,
regarded as a command—clearly favours the view that the legislator
was guided by economic principles. It is more difficult to say whether
he based his legislation on the principle that usury is intrinsically
unjust—that is to say, unjust even when taken in moderation. There
is really nothing in the texts quoted to enable us to decide. The
universality of the prohibition when there is question solely of Jews
goes to show that usury as such was regarded as unjust; whilst its
permission as between Jew and Gentile favours the contradictory
hypothesis.'[1] Modern Jewish thought is inclined to hold the view
that these prohibitions were based upon the assumption that usury was
intrinsically unjust, but that the taking of usury from the Gentiles
was justified on the principle of compensation; in other words, that
Jews might exact usury from those who might exact it from them.[2] It
is at least certain that usury was regarded by the writers of the Old
Testament as amongst the most terrible of sins.[3]
[Footnote 1: Op. cit., pp. 5-6.]
[Footnote 2: Jewish Encyclopaedia, art. 'Usury.']
[Footnote 3: Ezek. xviii. 13; Jer. xv. 10; Ps. xiv. 5, cix. 11, cxii.
5; Prov. xxviii. 8; Hes. xviii. 8; 2 Esd. v. I et seq.]
The general attitude of the Jews towards usury cannot be better
explained than by quoting Dr. Cleary's final conclusion on the
subject: 'It appears therefore that in the Old Testament usury was
universally prohibited between Israelite and Israelite, whilst it
was permitted between Israelite and Gentile. Furthermore, it
seems impossible to decide what was the nature of the obligations
imposed—whether the prohibition supposed and ratified an already
existing universal obligation, in charity or justice, or merely
imposed a new obligation in obedience, binding the consciences of men
for economic or political reasons. So, too, it seems impossible to
decide absolutely whether the decrees were intended to possess eternal
validity; the probabilities, however, seem to favour very strongly the
view that they were intended as mere economic regulations suited to
the circumstances of the time. This does not, of course, decide the
other question, whether, apart from such positive regulations, there
already existed an obligation arising from the natural law; nor would
the passing of the positive law into desuetude affect the existence of
the other obligation.'[1]
[Footnote 1: Op. cit., pp. 17-18.]
Before we pass from the consideration of the Old Testament to that of
the New, we may mention that the taking of interest by Mohammedans is
forbidden in the Koran.[2]
[Footnote 2: ii. 30. This prohibition is universally evaded. (Roscher,
Political Economy, s. 90.)]
§ 3. Usury in the First Twelve Centuries of Christianity.
The only passage in the Gospels which bears directly on the question
of usury is a verse of St. Luke, the correct reading of which is a
matter of considerable difference of opinion.[1] The Revised Version
reads: 'But love your enemies, and do them good, and lend, never
despairing (nihil desperantes); and your reward shall be great.' If
this be the true reading of the verse, it does not touch the question
of usury at all, as it is simply an exhortation to lend without
worrying whether the debtor fail or not.[2] The more generally
received reading of this verse, however, is that adopted by the
Vulgate, 'mutuum date, nihil inde sperantes'—'lend hoping for
nothing thereby.' If this be the correct reading, the verse raises
considerable difficulties of interpretation. It may simply mean, as
Mastrofini interprets it, that all human actions should be performed,
not in the hope of obtaining any material reward, but for the love of
God and our neighbour; or it may contain an actual precept or counsel
relating to the particular subject of loans. If the latter be the
correct interpretation, the further question arises whether the
recommendation is to renounce merely the interest of a loan or the
principal as well. We need not here engage on the details of the
controversy thus aroused; it is sufficient to say that it is the
almost unanimous opinion of modern authorities that the verse
recommends the renunciation of the principal as well as the interest;
and that, if this interpretation is correct, the recommendation is
not a precept, but a counsel.[3] Aquinas thought that the verse was a
counsel as to the repayment of the principal, but a precept as to the
payment of interest, and this opinion is probably correct.[4] With the
exception of this verse, there is not a single passage in the Gospels
which prohibits the taking of usury.
[Footnote 1: Luke vi. 35.]
[Footnote 2: Cleary, op. cit., p. 33, following Knabenbaur.]
[Footnote 3: Cleary, op. cit., p. 34.]
[Footnote 4: Ibid., p. 35.]
We must now give some account of the teaching on usury which was laid
down by the Fathers and early councils of the Church; but at the same
time we shall not attempt to treat this in an exhaustive way, because,
although the early Christian teaching is of interest in itself,
it exercised little or no influence upon the great philosophical
treatment of the same subject by Aquinas and his followers, which is
the principal subject to be discussed in these pages. The first thing
we must remark is that the prohibition of usury was not included by
the Council of Jerusalem amongst the 'necessary things' imposed upon
converts from the Gentiles.[1] This would seem to show that the taking
of usury was not regarded as unlawful by the Apostles, who were at
pains expressly to forbid the commission of offences, the evil of
which must have appeared plainly from the natural law—for instance,
fornication. The Didache, which was used as a book of catechetical
instruction for catechumens, does not specifically mention usury; the
forcing of the repayment of loans from the poor who are unable to pay
is strongly reprobated; but this is not so in the case of the rich.[2]
Clement of Alexandria expressly limits his disapprobation of usury to
the case of loans between brothers, whom he defines as 'participators
in the same word,' i.e. fellow-Christians; and in any event it
is clear that he regards it as sin against charity, but not against
justice.[3]
[Footnote 1: Acts xv. 29.]
[Footnote 2: Didache, ch. i.; Cleary, op. cit., p. 39.]
[Footnote 3: Stromata, ii. 18.]
Tertullian is one of the first of the Fathers to lay down positively
that the taking of usury is sinful. He regards it as obviously wrong
for Christians to exact usury on their loans, and interprets the
passage of St. Luke, to which we have referred, as a precept against
looking for even the repayment of the principal.[1] On the other hand,
Cyprian, writing in the same century, although he declaims eloquently
and vigorously against the usurious practices of the clergy, does not
specifically express the opinion that the taking of usury is wrong in
itself.[2]
[Footnote 1: Ad Marcion, iv. 17.]
[Footnote 2: Le Lapsis, ch. 5-6; Cleary, op. cit., pp. 42-3.]
Thus, during the first three centuries of Christianity, there does not
seem to have been, as far as we can now ascertain, any definite and
general doctrine laid down on the subject of usury. In the year 305
or 306 a very important step forward was taken, when the Council of
Elvira passed a decree against usury. This decree, as given by Ivo
and Gratian, seems only to have applied to usury on the part of the
clergy, but as given by Mansi it affected the clergy and laity alike.
'Should any cleric be found to have taken usury,' the latter version
runs, 'let him be degraded and excommunicated. Moreover, if any layman
shall be proved a usurer, and shall have promised, when corrected, to
abstain from the practice, let him be pardoned. If, on the contrary,
he perseveres in his evil-doing, he is to be excommunicated.'[1]
Although the Council of Elvira was but a provincial Council, its
decrees are important, as they provided a model for later legislation.
Dr. Cleary thinks that Mansi's version of this decree is probably
incorrect, and that, therefore, the Council only forbade usury on the
part of the clergy. In any event, with this one possible and extremely
doubtful exception, there was no conciliar legislation affecting the
practice of usury on the part of the laity until the eighth century.
Certain individual popes censured the taking of usury by laymen, and
the Council of Nice expressed the opinion that such a practice was
contrary to Christ's teaching, but there is nowhere to be found an
imperative and definite prohibition of the taking of usury except by
the clergy.[2]
[Footnote 1: Cleary, op. cit., p. 43.]
[Footnote 2: Cleary, op. cit., pp. 44-8.]
The inconclusive result of the Christian teaching up to the middle of
the fourth century is well summarised by Dr. Cleary: 'Hitherto we have
encountered mere prohibitions of usury with little or no attempt to
assign a reason for them other than that of positive legislation.
Most of the statements of these early patristic writers, as well
as possibly all of the early Christian legislative enactments, deal
solely with the practice of usury by the clergy; still, there is
sufficient evidence to show that in those days it was reprobated even
for the Christian laity, for the Didache and Tertullian clearly
teach or presuppose its prohibition, while the oecumenical Council
of Nice certainly presupposed its illegality for the laity, though
it failed to sustain its doctrinal presuppositions with corresponding
ecclesiastical penalties. With the exception of some very vague
statements by Cyprian and Clement of Alexandria, we find no attempt to
state the nature of the resulting obligation—that is to say, we are
not told whether there is an obligation of obedience, of justice, or
of charity. The prohibition indeed seems to be regarded as universal;
and it may very well be contended that for the cases the Fathers
consider it was in fact universal—for the loans with which they are
concerned, being necessitous, should be, in accordance with Christian
charity, gratuitous—even if speculatively usurious loans in general
were not unjust.'[1]
[Footnote 1: Op. cit., pp. 48-9.]
The middle of the fourth century marked the opening of a new
period—'a period when oratorical denunciations are profuse, and when
consequently philosophical speculation, though fairly active, is
of too imaginative a character to be sufficiently definite.'[1]
St. Basil's Homilies on the Fourteenth Psalm contain a violent
denunciation of usury, the reasoning of which was repeated by St.
Gregory of Nyssa[2] and St. Ambrose.[3] These three Fathers draw a
terrible picture of the state of the poor debtor, who, harassed by
his creditors, falls deeper and deeper into despair, until he finally
commits suicide, or has to sell his children into slavery. Usury was
therefore condemned by these Fathers as a sin against charity; the
passage from St. Luke was looked on merely as a counsel in so far as
it related to the repayment of the principal, but as a precept so
far as it related to usury; but the notion that usury was in its very
essence a sin against justice does not appear to have arisen. The
natural sterility of money is referred to, but not developed; and it
is suggested, though not categorically stated, that usury may be taken
from wealthy debtors.[4]
[Footnote 1: Cleary, op. cit., p. 49.]
[Footnote 2: Contra Usurarios.]
[Footnote 3: De Tobia.]
[Footnote 4: Cleary, op. cit., p. 52.]
The other Fathers of the later period do not throw very much light
on the question of how usury was regarded by the early Church. St.
Hilary[1] and Jerome[2] still base their objection on the ground of
its being an offence against charity; and St. Augustine, though he
would like to make restitution of usury a duty, treats the matter from
the same point of view.[3] On the other hand, there are to be found
patristic utterances in favour of the legality of usury, and episcopal
approbations of civil codes which permitted it.[4] The civil law
did not attempt to suppress usury, but simply to keep it within due
bounds.[5] The result of the patristic teaching therefore was on the
whole unsatisfactory and inconclusive. 'Whilst patristic opinion,'
says Dr. Cleary, 'is very pronounced in condemning usury, the
condemnation is launched against it more because of its oppressiveness
than for its intrinsic injustice. As Dr. Funk has pointed out, one can
scarcely cite a single patristic opinion which can be said clearly to
hold that usury is against justice, whilst there are, on the contrary,
certain undercurrents of thought in many writers, and certain explicit
statements in others, which tend to show that the Fathers would not
have been prepared to deal so harshly with usurers, did usurers not
treat their debtors so cruelly…. Of keen philosophical analysis
there is none…. On the whole, we find the teachings of the Fathers
crude and undeveloped.'[6]
[Footnote 1: In Ps. xiv.]
[Footnote 2: Ad Ezech.]
[Footnote 3: Cleary, op. cit., p. 56.]
[Footnote 4: Ibid. pp. 56-7.]
[Footnote 5: Justinian Code, iv. 32.]
[Footnote 6: Op. cit., pp. 57-9. On the patristic teaching on usury,
see Espinas, Op. cit., pp. 82-4; Roscher, Political Economy, s.
90; Antoine, Cours d'Economie sociale, pp. 588 et seq.]
The practical teaching with regard to the taking of usury made an
important advance in the eighth and ninth centuries, although the
philosophical analysis of the subject did not develop any more
fully. A capitulary canon made in 789 decreed 'that each and all are
forbidden to give anything on usury'; and a capitulary of 813 states
that 'not only should the Christian clergy not demand usury, laymen
should not.' In 825 it was decreed that the counts were to assist the
bishops in their suppression of usury; and in 850 the Synod of Ticinum
bound usurers to restitution.[1] The underlying principles of these
enactments is as obscure as their meaning is plain and definite. There
is not a single trace of the keen analysis with which Aquinas was
later to illuminate and adorn the subject.
[Footnote 1: These are but a few of the enactments of the period
directed against usury (Cleary, op. cit., p. 61; Favre, Le prêt à
intérêt dans l'ancienne France).]
§ 4. The Mediæval Prohibition of Usury.
The tenth and eleventh centuries saw no advance in the teaching on
usury. The twelfth century, however, ushered in a new era. 'Before
that century controversy had been mostly confined to theologians, and
treated theologically, with reference to God and the Bible, and only
rarely with regard to economic considerations. After the twelfth
century the discussion was conducted on a gradually broadening
economic basis—appeals to the Fathers, canonists, philosophers, the
jus divinum, the jus naturale, the jus humanum, became the order
of the day.'[1] Before we proceed to discuss the new philosophical or
scholastic treatment of usury which was inaugurated for all practical
purposes by Aquinas, we must briefly refer to the ecclesiastical
legislation on the subject.
[Footnote 1: Böhm-Bawerk, Capital and Interest, p. 19.]
In 1139 the second Lateran Council issued a very strong declaration
against usurers. 'We condemn that disgraceful and detestable rapacity,
condemned alike by human and divine law, by the Old and the New
Testaments, that insatiable rapacity of usurers, whom we hereby
cut off from all ecclesiastical consolation; and we order that no
archbishop, bishop, abbot, or cleric shall receive back usurers except
with the very greatest caution, but that, on the contrary, usurers
are to be regarded as infamous, and shall, if they do not repent, be
deprived of Christian burial.'[1] It might be argued that this decree
was aimed against immoderate or habitual usury, and not against usury
in general, but all doubt as regards the attitude of the Church was
set at rest by a decree of the Lateran Council of 1179. This decree
runs: 'Since almost in every place the crime of usury has become
so prevalent that many people give up all other business and become
usurers, as if it were lawful, regarding not its prohibition in both
Testaments, we ordain that manifest usurers shall not be admitted to
communion, nor, if they die in their sins, be admitted to Christian
burial, and that no priest shall accept their alms.'[2] Meanwhile,
Alexander III., having given much attention to the subject of usury,
had come to the conclusion that it was a sin against justice. This
recognition of the essential injustice of usury marked a turning-point
in the history of the treatment of the subject; and Alexander III.
seems entitled to be designated the 'pioneer of its scientific
study.'[3] Innocent III. followed Alexander in the opinion that usury
was unjust in itself, and from his time forward there was but little
further disagreement upon the matter amongst the theologians.[4]
[Footnote 1: Cleary, op. cit., p. 64.]
[Footnote 2: Ibid.]
[Footnote 3: Cleary, op. cit., p. 65.]
[Footnote 4: Ibid., p. 68.]
In 1274 Gregory X., in the Council of Lyons, ordained that no
community, corporation, or individual should permit foreign usurers to
hire houses, but that they should expel them from their territory;
and the disobedient, if prelates, were to have their lands put under
interdict, and, if laymen, to be visited by their ordinary with
ecclesiastical censures.[1] By a further canon he ordained that the
wills of usurers who did not make restitution should be invalid.[2]
This brought usury definitely within the jurisdiction of the
ecclesiastical courts.[3] In 1311 the Council of Vienne declared all
secular legislation in favour of usury null and void, and branded as
heresy the belief that usury was not sinful.[4] The precise extent and
interpretation of this decree have given rise to a considerable amount
of discussion,[5] which need not detain us here, because by that time
the whole question of usury had come under the treatment of the great
scholastic writers, whose teaching is more particularly the subject
matter of the present essay.
[Footnote 1: Liber Sextus, v. 5, 1.]
[Footnote 2: Ibid., c. 2.]
[Footnote 3: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. i. p. 150.]
[Footnote 4: Clementinarum, v. 5, 1.]
[Footnote 5: Cleary, op. cit., pp. 74-8.]
Even as late as the first half of the thirteenth century there was
no serious discussion of usury by the theologians. William of Paris,
Alexander of Hales, and Albertus Magnus simply pronounced it sinful
on account of the texts in the Old and New Testaments, which we have
quoted above.[1] It was Aquinas who really put the teaching on usury
upon the new foundation, which was destined to support it for so
many hundred years, and which even at the present day appeals to many
sympathetic and impartial inquirers. Mr. Lecky apologises for the
obscurity of his account of the argument of Aquinas, but adds that the
confusion is chiefly the fault of the latter;[2] but the fact that Mr.
Lecky failed to grasp the meaning of the argument should not lead one
to conclude that the argument itself was either confused or illogical.
The fact that it for centuries remained the basis of the Catholic
teaching on the subject is a sufficient proof that its inherent
absurdity did not appear apparent to many students at least as gifted
as Mr. Lecky. We shall quote the article of Aquinas at some length,
because it was universally accepted by all the theologians of the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, with whose opinions we are
concerned in this essay. To quote later writings is simply to repeat
in different words the conclusions at which Aquinas arrived.[3]
[Footnote 1: Jourdain, op. cit., p. 15.]
[Footnote 2: Rise and Influence, of Rationalism in Europe, vol. ii.
p. 261.]
[Footnote 3: Endemann, Studien, vol. i. p. 17.]
In answer to the question 'whether it is a sin to take usury for money
lent,' Aquinas replies: 'To take usury for money lent is unjust
in itself, because this is to sell what does not exist, and this
evidently leads to inequality, which is contrary to justice.
'In order to make this evident, we must observe that there are certain
things the use of which consists in their consumption; thus we consume
wine when we use it for drink, and we consume wheat when we use it for
food. Wherefore in such-like things the use of the thing must not be
reckoned apart from the thing itself, and whoever is granted the use
of the thing is granted the thing itself; and for this reason to lend
things of this kind is to transfer the ownership. Accordingly, if a
man wanted to sell wine separately from the use of the wine, he would
be selling the same thing twice, or he would be selling what does not
exist, wherefore he would evidently commit a sin of injustice. In like
manner he commits an injustice who lends wine or wheat, and asks for
double payment, viz. one, the return of the thing in equal measure,
the other, the price of the use, which is called usury.
'On the other hand, there are other things the use of which does not
consist in their consumption; thus to use a house is to dwell in it,
not to destroy it. Wherefore in such things both may be granted; for
instance, one man may hand over to another the ownership of his house,
while reserving to himself the use of it for a time, or, vice versa,
he may grant the use of a house while retaining the ownership. For
this reason a man may lawfully make a charge for the use of his house,
and, besides this, revendicate the house from the person to whom he
has granted its use, as happens in renting and letting a house.
'But money, according to the philosopher,[1] was invented chiefly for
the purpose of exchange; and consequently the proper and principal
use of money is its consumption or alienation, whereby it is sunk in
exchange. Hence it is by its very nature unlawful to take payment for
the use of money lent, which payment is known as usury; and, just as
a man is bound to restore other ill-gotten goods, so he is bound to
restore the money which he has taken in usury.'[2]
[Footnote 1: Eth. v. Pol. 1.]
[Footnote 2: II. ii. 78, 1.]
The essential thing to notice in this explanation is that the contract
of mutuum is shown to be a sale. The distinction between things
which are consumed in use (res fungibiles), and which are not
consumed in use (res non fungibiles) was familiar to the civil
lawyers; but what they had never perceived was precisely what Aquinas
perceived, namely, that the loan of a fungible thing was in fact not
a loan at all, but a sale, for the simple reason that the ownership
in the thing passed. Once the transaction had been shown to be a sale,
the principle of justice to be applied to it became obvious. As we
have seen above, in treating of sales, the essential basis of justice
in exchange was the observance of aequalitas between buyer and
seller—in other words, the fixing of a just price. The contract of
mutuum, however, was nothing else than a sale of fungibles,
and therefore the just price in such a contract was the return of
fungibles of the same value as those lent. If the particular fungible
sold happened to be money, the estimation of the just price was a
simple matter—it was the return of an amount of money of equal value.
As money happened to be the universal measure of value, this simply
meant the return of the same amount of money. Those who maintained
that something additional might be claimed for the use of the money
lost sight of the fact that the money was incapable of being used
apart from its being consumed.[1] To ask for payment for the sale of
a thing which not only did not exist, but which was quite incapable
of existence, was clearly to ask for something for nothing—which
obviously offended against the first principles of commutative
justice. 'He that is not bound to lend,' says Aquinas in another part
of the same article, 'may accept repayment for what he has done, but
he must not exact more. Now he is repaid according to equality of
justice if he is repaid as much as he lent, wherefore, if he exacts
more for the usufruct of a thing which has no other use but the
consumption of its substance, he exacts a price of something
non-existent, and so his exaction is unjust.'[2] And in the next
article the principle that mutuum is a sale appears equally clearly:
'Money cannot be sold for a greater sum than the amount lent, which
has to be paid back.'[3]
[Footnote 1: Aquinas did not lose sight of the fact that money might,
in certain cases, be used apart from being consumed—for instance,
when it was not used as a means of exchange, but as an ornament.
He gives the example of money being sewn up and sealed in a bag to
prevent its being spent, and in this condition lent for any purpose.
In this case, of course, the transaction would not be a mutuum, but
a locatio et conductio, and therefore a price could be charged for
the use of the money (Quaestiones Disputatae de Malo, Q. xiii. art.
iv. ad. 15, quoted in Cronin's Ethics, vol. ii. p. 332).]
[Footnote 2: II. ii. 78, 1, ad. 5.]
[Footnote 3: II. ii. 78, 2, ad. 4. Biel distinguishes three kinds of
exchange: of goods for goods, or barter; of goods for money, or sale;
and of money for money; and adds, 'In his contractibus … generaliter
justitia in hoc consistit quod fiant sine fraude, et servetur
aequalitas substantiae, qualitatis, quantitatis in commutatis (Op.
cit., IV. xv. 1). Buridan says that usury is contrary to natural law
'ex conditione justitiae quae in aequalitate damni et lucri consistit;
quoniam injustum est pro re semel commutata pluries pretium recipere'
(In Lib. Pol., iv. 6).]
The difficulty which moderns find in understanding this teaching,
is that it is said to be based on the sterility of money. A moment's
thought, however, will convince us that money is in fact sterile until
labour has been applied to it. In this sense money differs in its
essence from a cow or a tree. A cow will produce calves, or a tree
will produce fruit without the application of any exertion by its
owner; but, whatever profit is derived from money, is derived from the
use to which it is put by the person who owns it. This is all that
the scholastics meant by the sterility of money. They never thought
of denying that money, when properly used, was capable of bringing its
employer a profit; but they emphatically asserted that the profit was
due to the labour, and not to the money.
Antoninus of Florence clearly realised this: 'Money is not profitable
of itself alone, nor can it multiply itself, but it may become
profitable through its employment by merchants';[1] and Bernardine of
Sienna says: 'Money has not simply the character of money, but it
has beyond this a productive character, which we commonly call
capital.'[2] 'What is money,' says Brants, 'if it is not a means of
exchange, of which the employment and preservation will give a profit,
if he who possesses it is prudent, active, and intelligent? If this
money is well employed, it will become a capital, and one may derive
a profit from it; but this profit arises from the activity of him who
uses it, and consequently this profit belongs to him—it is the fruit,
the remuneration of his labour…. Did they (the scholastics) say
that it was impossible to draw a profit from a sum of money? No; they
admitted fully that one might de pecunia lucrari; but this lucrum
does not come from the pecunia, but from the application of labour
to the sum.'[3]
[Footnote 1: Quoted in Brants, op. cit., p. 134.]
[Footnote 2: Ibid.]
[Footnote 3: Brants, op. cit., pp. 133-5; Nider, De Cont. Merc.
iii. 15.]
Therefore, if the borrower did not derive any profit from the loan,
the sum lent had in fact been sterile, and obviously the just price of
the loan was the return of the amount lent; if, on the contrary, the
borrower had made a profit from it, it was the reward of his labour,
and not the fruit of the loan itself. To repay more than the sum lent
would therefore be to make a payment to one person for the labour of
another.[1] The exaction of usury was therefore the exploitation of
another man's exertion.[2]
[Footnote 1: Gerson, De Cont., iv. 15.]
[Footnote 2: Neumann, when he says that 'it was sinful to recompense
the use of capital belonging to another' (Geschichte des Wuchers in
Deutschland, p. 25), seems to miss the whole point of the discussion.
The teaching of the canonists on rents and partnership shows clearly
that the owner of capital might draw a profit from another's labour,
and the central point of the usury teaching was that money which has
been lent, and employed so as to produce a profit by the borrower,
belongs not 'to another,' but to the very man who employed it, namely,
the borrower.]
It is interesting to notice how closely the rules applying in the case
of sales were applied to usury. The raising of the price of a loan
on account of some special benefit derived from it by the borrower is
precisely analogous to raising the sale price of an object because it
is of some special individual utility to the buyer. On the other
hand, as we shall see further down, any special damage suffered by the
lender was a sufficient reason for exacting something over and above
the amount lent; this was precisely the rule that applied in the case
of sales, when the seller suffered any special damage from parting
with the object sold. Thus the analogy between sales and loans was
complete at every point. In both, equality of sacrifice was the test
of justice.
Nor could it be suggested that the delay in the repayment of the loan
was a reason for increasing the amount to be repaid, because this
really amounted to a sale of time, which, of its nature, could not be
owned.[1]
[Footnote 1: Rambaud, op. cit., p. 63; Aquinas(?), De Usuris, i.
4.]
The scholastic teaching, then, on the subject was quite plain and
unambiguous. Usury, or the payment of a price for the use of a sum
lent in addition to the repayment of the sum itself, was in all
cases prohibited. The fact that the payment demanded was moderate was
irrelevant; there could be no question of the reasonableness of the
amount of an essentially unjust payment.[1] Nor was the payment of
usury rendered just because the loan was for a productive purpose—in
other words, a commercial loan. Certain writers have maintained that
in this case usury was tolerated;[2] but they can easily be refuted.
As we have seen above, mutuum was essentially a sale, and,
therefore, no additional price could be charged because of some
special individual advantage enjoyed by the buyer (or borrower).
It was quite impossible to distinguish, according to the scholastic
teaching, between taking an additional payment because the lender made
a profit by using the loan wisely, and taking it because the borrower
was in great distress, and therefore derived a greater advantage from
the loan than a person in easier circumstances. The erroneous notion
that loans for productive purposes were entitled to any special
treatment was finally dispelled in 1745 by an encyclical of Benedict
XIV.[3]
[Footnote 1: Jourdain, op. cit., p. 35.]
[Footnote 2: E.g. Périn, Premiers Principes d'Économie politique,
p. 305; Claudio Jannet, Capital Spéculation et Finance, p. 83; De
Metz-Noblat, Lois économiques, p. 293.]
[Footnote 3: Rambaud, op. cit., p. 69.]
§ 5. Extrinsic Titles.
Usury, therefore, was prohibited in all cases. Many people at the
present day think that the prohibition of usury was the same thing
as the prohibition of interest. There could not be a greater mistake.
While usury was in all circumstances condemned, interest was in every
case allowed. The justification of interest rested on precisely the
same ground as the prohibition of usury, namely, the observance of the
equality of commutative justice. It was unjust that a greater price
should be paid for the loan of a sum of money than the amount lent;
but it was no less unjust that the lender should find himself in a
worse position because of his having made the loan. In other words,
the consideration for the loan could not be increased because of any
special benefit which it conferred on the borrower, but it could
be increased on account of any special damage suffered by the
lender—precisely the same rule as we have seen applied in the case
of sales. The borrower must, in addition to the repayment of the loan,
indemnify the lender for any damage he had suffered. The measure of
the damage was the difference between the lender's condition before
the loan was made and after it had been repaid—in other words, he
was entitled to compensation for the difference in his condition
occasioned by the transaction—id quod interest.
Before we discuss interest properly so called, we must say a word
about another analogous but not identical title of compensation,
namely, the poena conventionalis. It was a very general practice,
about the legitimacy of which the scholastics do not seem to have had
any doubt, to attach to the original contract of loan an agreement
that a penalty should be paid in case of default in the repayment
of the loan at the stipulated time.[1] The justice of the poena
conventionalis was recognised by Alexander of Hales,[2] and by Duns
Scotus, who gives a typical form of the stipulation as follows: 'I
have need of my money for commerce, but shall lend it to you till a
certain day on the condition that, if you do not repay it on that day,
you shall pay me afterwards a certain sum in addition, since I shall
suffer much injury through your delay.'[3] The poena conventionalis
must not be confused with either of the titles damnum emergens or
lucrum cessans, which we are about to discuss; it was distinguished
from the former by being based upon a presumed injury, whereas the
injury in damnum emergens must be proved; and for the latter because
the damage must be presumed to have occurred after the expiration of
the loan period, whereas in lucrum cessans the damage was presumed
to have occurred during the currency of the loan period. The important
thing to remember is that these titles were really distinct.[4] The
essentials of a poena conventionalis were, stipulation from the
first day of the loan, presumption of damage, and attachment to a
loan which was itself gratuitous.[5] The Summa Astesana clearly
maintained the distinction between the two titles of compensation,[6]
as also did the Summa Angelica.[7]
[Footnote 1: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. i. p. 399.]
[Footnote 2: Biel, op. cit., iv. 15, 11.]
[Footnote 3: Cleary, op. cit., p. 93.]
[Footnote 4: Ibid., p. 95.]
[Footnote 5: Cleary, op. cit., p. 94.]
[Footnote 6: Endemann, Studien, vol. i. p. 20.]
[Footnote 7: ccxl.]
The first thing to be noted on passing from the poena conventionalis
to interest proper is that the latter ground of compensation was
generally divided into two kinds, damnum emergens and lucrum
cessans. The former included all cases where the lender had incurred
an actual loss by reason of his having made the loan; whereas the
latter included all cases where the lender, by parting with his money,
had lost the opportunity of making a profit. This distinction was made
at least as early as the middle of the thirteenth century, and was
always adopted by later writers.[1]
[Footnote 1: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. ii. p. 399.]
The title damnum emergens never presented any serious difficulty.
It was recognised by Albertus Magnus,[1] and laid down so clearly by
Aquinas that it was not afterwards questioned: 'A lender may without
sin enter an agreement with the borrower for compensation for the loss
he incurs of something he ought to have, for this is not to sell
the use of money, but to avoid a loss. It may also happen that the
borrower avoids a greater loss than the lender incurs, wherefore the
borrower may repay the lender with what he has gained.'[2] The usual
example given to illustrate how damnum emergens might arise, was
the case of the lender being obliged, on account of the failure of the
borrower, to borrow money himself at usury.[3]
[Footnote 1: Roscher, Geschichte, p. 27.]
[Footnote 2: II. ii. 78, 2, ad. 1.]
[Footnote 3: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. i. p. 400.]
Closely allied to the title of damnum emergens was that of lucrum
cessans. According to some writers, the latter was the only true
interest. Dr. Cleary quotes some thirteenth-century documents in which
a clear distinction is made between damnum and interesse;[1] and
it seems to have been the common custom in Germany at a later date
to distinguish between interesse and schaden.[2] Although the
division between these two titles was very indefinite, they did not
meet recognition with equal readiness; the title damnum emergens
was universally admitted by all authorities; while that of lucrum
cessans was but gradually admitted, and hedged round with many
limitations.[3]
[Footnote 1: Op. cit., p. 95.]
[Footnote 2: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. ii. p. 401.]
[Footnote 3: Cleary, op. cit., p. 98; Endemann, Studien, vol. ii.
p. 279; Bartolus and Baldus said that damnum emergens and lucrum
cessans were divided by a very narrow line, and that it was often
difficult to distinguish between them. They suggested that the
terms interesse proximum and interesse remotum would be more
satisfactory, but they were not followed by other writers (Endemann,
Studien, vol. ii, pp. 269-70).]
The first clear recognition of the title lucrum cessans occurs in
a letter from Alexander III., written in 1176, and addressed to the
Archbishop of Genoa: 'You tell us that it often happens in your city
that people buy pepper and cinnamon and other wares, at the time worth
not more than five pounds, promising those from whom they received
them six pounds at an appointed time. Though contracts of this
kind and under such a form cannot strictly be called usurious, yet,
nevertheless, the vendors incur guilt, unless they are really doubtful
whether the wares might be worth more or less at the time of payment.
Your citizens will do well for their own salvation to cease from such
contracts.'[1] As Dr. Cleary points out, the trader is held by this
decision to be entitled to a recompense on account of a probable loss
of profit, and the decision consequently amounts to a recognition of
the title lucrum cessans.[2] The title is also recognised by Scotus
and Hostiensis.[3]
[Footnote 1: Decr. Greg. v. 5, 6.]
[Footnote 2: Op. cit., p. 67.]
[Footnote 3: Ibid., p. 99.]
The attitude of Aquinas to the admission of lucrum cessans is
obscure. In the article on usury he expressly states that 'the lender
cannot enter an agreement for compensation through the fact that he
makes no profit out of his money, because he must not sell that which
he has not yet, and may be prevented in many ways from having.'[1] Two
comments must be made on this passage; first, that it only refers to
making a stipulation in advance for compensation for profit lost, and
does not condemn the actual payment of compensation;[2] second, that
the point is made that the probability of gaining a profit on money is
so problematical as to make it unsaleable. As Ashley points out, the
latter consideration was peculiarly important at the time when the
Summa was composed; and, when in the course of the following
two centuries the opportunities for reasonably safe and profitable
business investments increased, the great theologians conceived that
they were following the real thought of Aquinas by giving to this
explanation a pure contemporanea expositio. The argument in favour
of this construction is strengthened by a reference to the article of
the Summa dealing with restitution,[3] where it is pointed out that
a man may suffer in two ways—first, by being deprived of what he
actually has, and, second, by being prevented from obtaining what he
was on his way to obtain. In the former case an equivalent must always
be restored, but in the latter it is not necessary to make good an
equivalent, 'because to have a thing virtually is less than to have it
actually, and to be on the way to obtain a thing is to have it
merely virtually or potentially, and so, were he to be indemnified by
receiving the thing actually, he would be paid, not the exact value
taken from him, but more, and this is not necessary for salvation.
However, he is bound to make some compensation according to the
condition of persons and things.' Later in the same article we are
told that 'he that has money has the profit not actually, but only
virtually; and it may be hindered in many ways.'[4] It seems
quite clear from these passages that Aquinas admitted the right to
compensation for a profit which the lender was hindered from making on
account of the loan; but that, in the circumstances of the time, the
probability of making such a profit was so remote that it could not
be made the basis of pecuniary compensation. The probability of there
being a lucrum cessans was thought small, but the justice of its
reward, if it did in fact exist, was admitted.
[Footnote 1: II. ii. 78, 2, ad. 1.]
[Footnote 2: Rambaud, op. cit., p. 67.]
[Footnote 3: II. ii. 62, 4.]
[Footnote 4: Ibid., ad. 1 and 2.]
This interpretation steadily gained ground amongst succeeding writers;
so that, in spite of some lingering opposition, the justice of the
title lucrum cessans was practically universally admitted by the
theologians of the fifteenth century.[1]
[Footnote 1: Ashley, op. cit., p. 99. Lucrum cessans was defined
by Navarrus as 'amissio facta a creditore per pecuniam sibi non
redditam' (Endemann, Studien, vol. ii. p. 279).]
Of course the burden of proving that an opportunity for profitable
investment had been really lost was on the lender, but this onus
was sufficiently discharged if the probability of such a loss were
established. In the fifteenth century, with the expansion of commerce,
it came to be generally recognised that such a probability could be
presumed in the case of the merchant or trader.[1] The final condition
of this development of the teaching on lucrum cessans is thus stated
by Ashley:[2] 'Any merchant, or indeed any person in a trading
centre where there were opportunities of business investment (outside
money-lending itself) could, with a perfectly clear conscience,
and without any fear of molestation, contract to receive periodical
interest from the person to whom he lent money; provided only that
he first lent it to him gratuitously, for a period that might be made
very short, so that technically the payment would not be reward for
the use, but compensation for the non-return of the money.' At a later
period than that of which we are treating in the present essay the
short gratuitous period could be dispensed with, but until the end of
the fifteenth century it seems to have been considered essential.[3]
[Footnote 1: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. ii. p. 402.]
[Footnote 2: Ibid.]
[Footnote 3: Ashley, op. cit. vol. i. pt. ii. p. 402; Endemann,
Studien, vol. ii. pp. 253-4; Cleary, op. cit., p. 100.]
Of course the amount paid in respect of lucrum cessans must be
reasonable in regard to the loss of opportunity actually experienced;
'Lenders,' says Buridan, 'must not take by way of lucrum
cessans more than they would have actually made by commerce or in
exchange';[1] and Ambrosius de Vignate explains that compensation
must only be made for 'the time and just interesse of the lost gain,
which must be certain and proximate.'[2]
[Footnote 1: Eth., iv. 6.]
[Footnote 2: De Usuris, c. 10.]
There was another title on account of which more than the amount of
the loan could be recovered, namely, periculum sortis. In one sense
it was a contradiction in terms to speak of the element of risk in
connection with usury, because from its very definition usury was gain
without risk as opposed to profit from a trading partnership, which,
as we shall see presently, consisted of gain coupled with the risk of
loss. It could not be lost sight of, however, that in fact there might
be a risk of the loan not being repaid through the insolvency of the
borrower, or some other cause, and the question arose whether the
lender could justly claim any compensation for the undertaking of this
risk. 'Regarded as an extrinsic title, risk of losing the principal
is connected with the contract of mutuum, and entitles the lender to
some compensation for running the risk of losing his capital in order
to oblige a possibly insolvent debtor. The greater the danger of
insolvency, the greater naturally would be the charge. The contract
was indifferent to the object of the loan; it mattered not whether it
was intended for commerce or consumption; it was no less indifferent
to profit on the part of the borrower; it took account simply of the
latter's ability to pay, and made its charge accordingly. It resembled
consequently the contracts made by insurance companies, wherein there
is a readiness to risk the capital sum for a certain rate of payment;
the only difference was that the probabilities charged for were not
so much the likelihood of having to pay, as the likelihood of not
receiving back.'[1]
[Footnote 1: Cleary, op. cit., p. 115.]
We have referred above, when dealing with the legitimacy of commercial
profits, to the difficulty which was felt in admitting the justice
of compensation for risk, on account of the Gregorian Decretal on
the subject. The same decree gave rise to the same difficulty in
connection with the justification of a recompense for periculum
sortis. There was a serious dispute about the actual wording of the
decree, and even those who agreed as to its wording differed as to its
interpretation.[1] The justice of the title was, however, admitted by
Scotus, who said that it was lawful to stipulate for recompense when
both the principal and surplus were in danger of being lost[2]; by
Carletus;[3] and by Nider.[4] The question, however, was still hotly
disputed at the end of the fifteenth century, and was finally settled
in favour of the admission of the title as late as 1645.[5]
[Footnote 1: Ibid.]
[Footnote 2: Cleary, op. cit., p. 117.]
[Footnote 3: Summa Angelica Usura, i. 38.]
[Footnote 4: De Cont. Merc., iii. 15.]
[Footnote 5: Cleary, op. cit., p. 117.]
§ 6. Other Cases in which more than the Loan could be repaid.
We have now discussed the extrinsic titles—poena conventionalis,
damnum emergens, lucrum cessans, and periculum sortis. There were
other grounds also, which cannot be reduced to the classification of
extrinsic titles, on which more than the amount of the loan might be
justly returned to the lender. In the first place, the lender might
justly receive anything that the borrower chose to pay over and above
the loan, voluntarily as a token of gratitude. 'Repayment for a favour
may be done in two ways,' says Aquinas. 'In one way, as a debt of
justice; and to such a debt a man may be bound by a fixed contract;
and its amount is measured according to the favour received. Wherefore
the borrower of money, or any such thing the use of which is its
consumption, is not bound to repay more than he received in loan; and
consequently it is against justice if he is obliged to pay back more.
In another way a man's obligation to repayment for favour received
is based on a debt of friendship, and the nature of this debt depends
more on the feeling with which the favour was conferred than on the
question of the favour itself. This debt does not carry with it a
civil obligation, involving a kind of necessity that would exclude the
spontaneous nature of such a repayment.'[1]
[Footnote 1: II. ii. 78, 2, ad. 2.]
It was also clearly understood that it was not wrongful to borrow at
usury under certain conditions. In such cases the lender might commit
usury in receiving, but the borrower would not commit usury in paying
an amount greater than the sum lent. It was necessary, however, in
order that borrowing at usury might be justified, that the borrower
should be animated by some good motive, such as the relief of his own
or another's need. The whole question was settled once and for all by
Aquinas: 'It is by no means lawful to induce a man to sin, yet it is
lawful to make use of another's sin for a good end, since even God
uses all sin for some good, since He draws some good from every
evil…. Accordingly it is by no means lawful to induce a man to lend
under a condition of usury; yet it is lawful to borrow for usury from
a man who is ready to do so, and is a usurer by profession, provided
that the borrower have a good end in view, such as the relief of his
own or another's need…. He who borrows for usury does not consent
to the usurer's sin, but makes use of it. Nor is it the usurer's
acceptance of usury that pleases him, but his lending, which is
good.'[1]
[Footnote 1: II. ii. 78, 4.]
We should mention here the montes pietatis, which occupied a
prominent place among the credit-giving agencies of the later Middle
Ages, although it is difficult to say whether their methods were
examples of or exceptions to the doctrines forbidding usury. These
institutions were formed on the model of the montes profani, the
system of public debt resorted to by many Italian States. Starting in
the middle of the twelfth century,[1] the Italian States had
recourse to forced loans in order to raise reserves for extraordinary
necessities, and, in order to prevent the growth of disaffection among
the citizens, an annual percentage on such loans was paid. A fund
raised by such means was generally called a mons or heap. The
propriety of the payment of this percentage was warmly contested
during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries—the Dominicans and
Franciscans defending it, and the Augustinians attacking it. But its
justification was not difficult. In the first place, the loans were
generally, if not universally, forced, and therefore the payment of
interest on them was purely voluntary. As we have seen, Aquinas was
quite clear as to the lawfulness of such a voluntary payment. In
the second place, the lenders were almost invariably members of
the trading community, who were the very people in whose favour a
recompense for lucrum cessans would be allowed.[2] Laurentius de
Rodulphis argued in favour of the justice of these State loans, and
contended that the bondholders were entitled to sell their rights, but
advised good Christians to abstain from the practice of a right about
the justice of which theologians were in such disagreement[3]; and
Antoninus of Florence, who was in general so strict on the subject of
usury, took the same view.[4]
[Footnote 1: Endemann, Studien, vol. i. p. 433.]
[Footnote 2: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. i. p. 448.]
[Footnote 3: De Usuris.]
[Footnote 4: Ashley, op. cit., p. 449.]
It was probably the example of these State loans, or montes profani,
that suggested to the Franciscans the possibility of creating an
organisation to provide credit facilities for poor borrowers, which
was in many ways analogous to the modern co-operative credit banks.
Prior to the middle of the fifteenth century, when this experiment
was initiated, there had been various attempts by the State to provide
credit facilities for the poor, but these need not detain us here, as
they did not come to anything.[1] The first of the montes pietatis
was founded at Orvieto by the Franciscans in 1462, and after that
year they spread rapidly.[2] The montes, although their aim was
exclusively philanthropic, found themselves obliged to make a small
charge to defray their working expenses, and, although one would think
that this could be amply justified by the title of damnum emergens,
it provoked a violent attack by the Dominicans. The principal
antagonist of the montes pietatis was Thomas da Vio, who wrote a
special treatise on the subject, in which he made the point that the
montes charged interest from the very beginning of the loan, which
was a contradiction of all the previous teaching on interest.[3]
[Footnote 1: Cleary, op. cit., p. 108; Brants, op. cit., p. 159.]
[Footnote 2: Perugia, 1467; Viterbo, 1472; Sevona, 1472; Assisi,
1485; Mantua, 1486; Cesana and Parma, 1488; Interamna and Lucca,
1489; Verona, 1490; Padua, 1491, etc. (Endemann, Studien, vol. i. p.
463).]
[Footnote 3: De Monte Pietatis.]
The general feeling of the Church, however, was in favour of the
montes. It was felt that, if the poor must borrow, it was better
that they should borrow at a low rate of interest from philanthropic
institutions than at an extortionate rate from usurers; several
montes were established under the direct protection of the Popes;[1]
and finally, in 1515, the Lateran Council gave an authoritative
judgment in favour of the montes. This decree contains an excellent
definition of usury as it had come to be accepted at that date: 'Usury
is when gain is sought to be acquired from the use of a thing, not
fruitful in itself, without labour, expense, or risk on the part of
the lender.'[2]
[Footnote 1: Cleary, op. cit., p. 111.]
[Footnote 2: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. ii. p. 451.]
It was generally admitted by the theologians that the taking of usury
might be permitted by the civil authorities, although it was insisted
that acting in accordance with this permission did not absolve the
conscience of the usurer. Albertus Magnus conceded that 'although
usury is contrary to the perfection of Christian laws, it is at least
not contrary to civil interests';[1] and Aquinas also justified the
toleration of usury by the State: 'Human laws leave certain things
unpunished, on account of the condition of those who are imperfect,
and who would be deprived of many advantages if all sins were strictly
forbidden and punishments appointed for them. Wherefore human law
has permitted usury, not that it looks upon usury as harmonising
with justice, but lest the advantage of many should be hindered.'[2]
Although this opinion was controverted by Ægidius Romanus,[3] it was
generally accepted by later writers. Thus Gerson says that 'the civil
law, when it tolerates usury in some cases, must not be said to be
always contrary to the law of God or the Church. The civil legislator,
acting in the manner of a wise doctor, tolerates lesser evils that
greater ones may be avoided. It is obviously less of an evil that
slight usury should be permitted for the relief of want, than that men
should be driven by their want to rob or steal, or to sell their goods
at an unfairly low price.'[4] Buridan explains that the attitude of
the State towards usury must never be more than one of toleration;
it must not actively approve of usury, but it may tacitly refuse to
punish it.[5]
[Footnote 1: Rambaud, op. cit., p. 65; Espinas, op. cit., p. 103.]
[Footnote 2: II. ii. 78, 1, ad. 3.]
[Footnote 3: De Reg. Prin., ii. 3, 11.]
[Footnote 4: De Cont., ii. 17.]
[Footnote 5: Quaest. super. Lib. Eth., iv. 6.]
§ 7. The Justice of Unearned Income.
Many modern socialists—'Christian' and otherwise—have asserted that
the teaching of the Church on usury was a pronouncement in favour of
the unproductivity of capital.[1] Thus Rudolf Meyer, one of the
most distinguished of 'Christian socialists,' has argued that if one
recognises the productivity of land or stock, one must also recognise
the productivity of money, and that therefore the Church, in denying
the productivity of the latter, would be logically driven to deny
the productivity of the former.[2] Anton Menger expresses the same
opinion: 'There is not the least reason for attacking from the moral
and religious standpoints loans at interest and usury more than any
other form of unearned income. If one questions the legitimacy of
loans at interest, one must equally condemn as inadmissible the other
forms of profit from capital and lands, and particularly the feudal
institutions of the Middle Ages…. It would have been but a logical
consequence for the Church to have condemned all forms of unearned
revenue.'[3]
[Footnote 1: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. ii. p. 427.]
[Footnote 2: Der Kapitalismus fin de siècle, p. 29.]
[Footnote 3: Das Recht auf den Arbeiterstrag. See the Abbé Hohoff in
Démocratie Chrétienne, Sept. 1898, p. 284.]
No such conclusion, however, can be properly drawn from the mediæval
teaching. The whole discussion on usury turned on the distinction
which was drawn between things of which the use could be transferred
without the ownership, and things of which the use could not be so
transferred. In the former category were placed all things which
could be used, either by way of enjoyment or employment for productive
purposes, without being destroyed in the process; and in the latter
all things of which the use or employment involved the destruction.
With regard to income derived from the former, no difficulty was ever
felt; a farm or a house might be let at a rent without any question,
the return received being universally regarded as one of the
legitimate fruits of the ownership of the thing. With regard to the
latter, however, a difficulty did arise, because it was felt that a
so-called loan of such goods was, when analysed, in reality a sale,
and that therefore any increase which the goods produced was in
reality the property, not of the lender, but of the borrower. That
money was in all cases sterile was never suggested; on the contrary,
it was admitted that it might produce a profit if wisely and prudently
employed in industry or commerce; but it was felt that such an
increase, when it took place, was the rightful property of the owner
of the money. But when money was lent, the owner of this money was
the borrower, and therefore, when money which was lent was employed
in such a way as to produce a profit, that profit belonged to the
borrower, not the lender. In this way the schoolmen were strictly
logical; they fully admitted that wealth could produce wealth; but
they insisted that that additional wealth should accrue to the owner
of the wealth that produced it.
The fact is, as Böhm-Bawerk has pointed out, that the question of the
productivity of capital was never discussed by the mediæval schoolmen,
for the simple reason that it was so obvious. The justice of receiving
an income from an infungible thing which was temporarily lent by its
owner, was discussed and supported; but the justice of the owner of
such a thing receiving an income from the thing so long as it remained
in his own possession was never discussed, because it was universally
admitted.[1] It is perfectly correct to say that the problems which
have perplexed modern writers as to the justice of receiving an
unearned income from one's property never occurred to the scholastics;
such problems can only arise when the institution of private property
comes to be questioned; and private property was the keystone of the
whole scholastic economic conception. In other words, the justice of a
reward for capital was admitted because it was unquestioned.
[Footnote 1: Capital and Interest, p. 39.]
The question that caused difficulty was whether money could
be considered a form of capital. At the present day, when the
opportunities of industrial investment are wider than they ever were
before, the principal use to which money is put is the financing of
industrial enterprises; but in the Middle Ages this was not the case,
precisely because the opportunities of profitable investment were
so few. This is the reason why the mediæval writers did not find it
necessary to discuss in detail the rights of the owner of money who
used it for productive purposes. But of the justice of a profit being
reaped when money was actually so employed there was no doubt at all.
As we have seen, the borrower of a sum of money might reap a profit
from its wise employment; there was no question about the justice of
taking such a profit; and the only matter in dispute was whether that
profit should belong to the borrower or the lender of the money. This
dispute was decided in favour of the borrower on the ground that,
according to the true nature of the contract of mutuum, the money
was his property. It was, therefore, never doubted that even money
might produce a profit for its owner. The only difference between
infungible goods and money was that, in the case of the former, the
use might be transferred apart from the property, whereas, in the case
of the latter, it could not be so transferred.
The recognition of the title lucrum cessans as a ground for
remuneration clearly implies the recognition of the legitimacy of the
owner of money deriving a profit from its use; and the slowness of the
scholastics to admit this title was precisely because of the rarity of
opportunities for so employing money in the earlier Middle Ages. The
nature of capital was clearly understood; but the possibility of money
constituting capital arose only with the extension of commerce and
the growth of profitable investments. Those scholastics who strove to
abolish or to limit the recognition of lucrum cessans as a ground
for remuneration did not deny the productivity of capital, but simply
thought the money had not at that time acquired the characteristics of
capital.[1]
[Footnote 1: See Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. ii. pp. 434-9.]
If there were any doubt about the fact that the scholastics recognised
the legitimacy of unearned income, it would be dispelled by an
understanding of their teaching on rents and partnership, in the
former of which they distinctly acknowledged the right to draw an
unearned income from one's land, and in the latter of which they
acknowledged the same right in regard to one's money.[1]
[Footnote 1: On this discussion see Ashley, Economic History, vol.
i. pt. ii. pp. 427 et seq.; Rambaud, Histoire, pp. 57 et seq.;
Funk, Zins und Wucher; Arnold, Zur Geschichte des Eigenthums, pp.
92 et seq.; Böhm-Bawerk, Capital and Interest (Eng. trans.), pp.
1-39.]
§ 8. Rent Charges.
There was never any difficulty about admitting the justice of
receiving a rent from a tenant in occupation of one's lands, because
land was understood to be essentially a thing of which the use could
be sold apart from the ownership; and it was also recognised that the
recipient of such a rent might sell his right to a third party, who
could then demand the rent from the tenant. When this was admitted it
was but a small step to admit the right of the owner of land to create
a rent in favour of another person in consideration for some
payment. The distinctions between a census reservativus, or a rent
established when the possession of land was actually transferred to a
tenant, and a census constitutivus, or a rent created upon property
remaining in the possession of the payer, did not become the subject
of discussion or difficulty until the sixteenth century.[1] The
legitimacy of rent charges does not seem to have been questioned
by the theologians; the best proof of this being the absence of
controversy about them in a period when they were undoubtedly very
common, especially in Germany.[2] Langenstein, whose opinion on
the subject was followed by many later writers,[3] thought that the
receipt of income from rent charges was perfectly justifiable, when
the object was to secure a provision for old age, or to provide an
income for persons engaged in the services of Church or State, but
that it was unjustifiable if it was intended to enable nobles to
live in luxurious idleness, or plebeians to desert honest toil. It is
obvious that Langenstein did not regard rent charges as wrongful in
themselves, but simply as being the possible occasions of wrong.[4]
[Footnote 1: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. ii. p. 409.]
[Footnote 2: Endemann, Studien, vol. ii. p. 104.]
[Footnote 3: Endemann, Studien, vol. ii. p. 109.]
[Footnote 4: Roscher, Geschichte, p. 20.]
In the fifteenth century definite pronouncements on rent charges
were made by the Popes. A large part of the revenue of ecclesiastical
bodies consisted of rent charges, and in 1425 several persons in the
diocese of Breslau refused to pay the rents they owed to their clergy
on the ground that they were usurious. The question was referred to
Pope Martin V., whose bull deciding the matter was generally followed
by all subsequent authorities. The bull decides in favour of the
lawfulness of rent charges, provided certain conditions were observed.
They must be charged on fixed property ('super bonis suis, dominiis,
oppidis, terris, agris, praediis, domibus et hereditatibus') and
determined beforehand; they must be moderate, not exceeding seven or
ten per cent.; and they must be capable of being repurchased at any
moment in whole or in part, by the repayment of the same sum for which
they were originally created. On the other hand, the payer of the rent
must never be forced to repay the purchase money, even if the goods on
which the rent was charged had perished—in other words, the contract
creating the rent charge was one of sale, and not of loan. The bull
recites that such conditions had been observed in contracts of this
nature from time immemorial.[1] A precisely similar decree was issued
by Calixtus III. in 1455.[2]
[Footnote 1: Extrav. Commun., iii. 5, i.]
[Footnote 2: Ibid., c. 2.]
These decisions were universally followed in the fifteenth century.[1]
It was always insisted that a rent could only be charged upon
something of which the use could be separated from the ownership,
as otherwise it would savour of usury.[2] In the sixteenth century
interesting discussions arose about the possibility of creating a
personal rent charge, not secured on any specific property, but such
discussions did not trouble the writers of the period which we are
treating. The only instance of such a contract being considered is
found in a bull of Nicholas V. in 1452, permitting such personal rent
charges in the kingdoms of Aragon and Sicily, but this permission was
purely local, and, as the bull itself shows, was designed to meet the
exigencies of a special situation.[3]
[Footnote 1: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. ii. p. 410.]
[Footnote 2: Biel, op. cit., Sent. IV. xv. 12.]
[Footnote 3: Cleary, op. cit., p. 124.]
§ 9. Partnership.
The teaching on partnership contains such a complete disproof of
the contention that the mediæval teaching on usury was based on the
unproductivity of capital, that certain writers have endeavoured
to prove that the permission of partnership was but a subterfuge,
consciously designed to justify evasions of the usury law. Further
historical knowledge, however, has dispelled this misconception;
and it is now certain that the contract of partnership was widely
practised and tolerated long before the Church attempted to insist
on the observance of its usury laws in everyday commercial life.[1]
However interesting an investigation into the commercial and
industrial partnerships of the Middle Ages might be, we must not
attempt to pursue it here, as we have rigidly limited ourselves to a
consideration of teaching. We must refer, however, to the commenda,
which was the contract from which the later mediæval partnership
(societas) is generally admitted to have developed, because the
commenda was extensively practised as early as the tenth century,
and, as far as we know, never provoked any expression of disapproval
from the Church. This silence amounts to a justification; and we may
therefore say that, even before Aquinas devoted his attention to the
subject, the Church fully approved of an institution which provided
the owner of money with the means of procuring an unearned income.
[Footnote 1: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. ii. p. 411; Weber,
Handelsgesellschaften, pp. 111-14.]
The commenda was originally a contract by which merchants who wished
to engage in foreign trade, but who did not wish to travel themselves,
entrusted their wares to agents or representatives. The merchant was
known as the commendator or socius stans, and the agent as the
commendatarius or tractator. The most usual arrangement for the
division of the profits of the adventure was that the commendatarius
should receive one-fourth and the commendator three-fourths. At
a slightly later date contracts came to be common in which the
commendatarius contributed a share of capital, in which case he
would receive one-fourth of the whole profit as commendatarius, and
a proportionate share of the remainder as capitalist. This contract
came to be generally known as collegantia or societas. Contracts
of this kind, though originally chiefly employed in overseas
enterprise, afterwards came to be utilised in internal trade and
manufacturing industry.[1]
[Footnote 1: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. ii. pp. 412-14.]
The legitimacy of the profits of the commendator never seems to have
caused the slightest difficulty to the canonists. In 1206 Innocent
III. advised the Archbishop of Genoa that a widow's dowry should be
entrusted to some merchant so that an income might be obtained by
means of honest gain.[1] Aquinas expressly distinguishes between
profit made from entrusting one's money to a merchant to be employed
by him in trade, and profit arising from a loan, on the ground that
in the former case the ownership of the money does not pass, and that
therefore the person who derives the profit also risks the loan. 'He
who lends money transfers the ownership of the money to the borrower.
Hence the borrower holds the money at his own risk, and is bound to
pay it all back: wherefore the lender must not exact more. On the
other hand, he that entrusts his money to a merchant or craftsman so
as to form a kind of society does not transfer the ownership of the
money to them, for it remains his, so that at his risk the merchant
speculates with it, or the craftsman uses it for his craft, and
consequently he may lawfully demand, as something belonging to him,
part of the profits derived from his money.'[2] This dictum of Aquinas
was the foundation of all the later teaching on partnership, and the
importance of the element of risk was insisted on in strong terms by
the later writers. According to Baldus, 'when there is no sharing
of risk there is no partnership';[3] and Paul de Castro says, 'A
partnership when the gain is shared, but not the loss, is not to be
permitted.'[4] 'The legitimacy,' says Brants, 'of the contract of
commenda always rested upon the same principle; capital could not be
productive except for him who worked it himself, or who caused it
to be worked on his own responsibility. This latter condition was
realised in commenda.'[5]
[Footnote 1: Greg. Decr., iv. 19, 7.]
[Footnote 2: II. ii. 78, 2, ad. 5.]
[Footnote 3: Brants, op. cit., p. 167.]
[Footnote 4: Consilia, ii. 55; also Ambrosius de Vignate, De
Usuris, i. 62; Biel, Op. cit., IV. xv. 11.]
[Footnote 5: Op. cit., p. 172.]
Although the contract of partnership was fully recognised by the
scholastics, it was not very scientifically treated, nor were the
different species of the contract systematically classified. The only
classification adopted was to divide contracts of partnership into
two kinds—those where both parties contributed labour to a joint
enterprise, and those where one party contributed labour and the other
party money. The former gave no difficulty, because the justice of the
remuneration of labour was admitted; but, while the latter was no
less fully recognised, cases of it were subjected to careful scrutiny,
because it was feared that usurious contracts might be concealed under
the appearance of a partnership.[1] The question which occupied the
greatest space in the treatises on the subject was the share in which
the profits should be divided between the parties. The only rule which
could be laid down, in the absence of an express contract, was that
the parties should be remunerated in proportion to the services which
they contributed—a rule the application of which must have been
attended with enormous difficulties. Laurentius de Rodulphis insists
that equality must be observed;[2] and Angelus de Periglis de Perusio,
the first monographist on the subject, does not throw much more light
on the question. The rule as stated by this last writer is that in the
first place the person contributing money must be repaid a sum equal
to what he put in, and the person contributing labour must be paid
a sum equal to the value of his labour, and that whatever surplus
remains must be divided between the two parties equally.[3] The
question of the shares in which the profits should be distributed was
not one, however, that frequently arose in practice, because it was
the almost universal custom for the partners to make this a term of
their original contract. Within fairly wide limits it was possible
to arrange for the division of the profits in unequal shares—say
two-thirds and one-third. The shares of gain and loss must, however,
be the same; one party could not reap two-thirds of the profit and
bear only one-third of the loss; but it might be contracted that, when
the loss was deducted from the gain, one party might have two-thirds
of the balance, and the other one-third.[4] In no case, of course,
could the party contributing the money stipulate that his principal
should in all cases be returned, because that was a mutuum. The
party contributing the labour might validly contract that he should
be paid for his labour in any case, but, if this was so, the contract
ceased to be a societas and became a locatio operarum, or ordinary
contract of work for wages. In all cases, common participation in the
gains and losses of the enterprise was an essential feature of the
contract of partnership.[5]
[Footnote 1: Summa Astesana, iii. 12.]
[Footnote 2: De Usuris, i. 19.]
[Footnote 3: De Societatibus, i. 130.]
[Footnote 4: De Societatibus, i. 130.]
[Footnote 5: Ibid.]
Before concluding the subject of partnership, we must make reference
to the trinus contractus, which caused much discussion and great
difficulty. As we have seen, a contract of partnership was good so
long as the person contributing money did not contract that he should
receive his original money back in all circumstances. A contract of
insurance was equally justifiable. There was no doubt that A might
enter into partnership with B; he could further insure himself with C
against the loss of his capital, and with D against damage caused
by fluctuations in the rate of profits. Why, then, should he not
simultaneously enter into all three contracts with B? If he did so, he
was still B's partner, but at the same time he was protected against
the loss of his principal and a fair return upon it—in other words,
he was a partner, protected against the risks of the enterprise. The
legitimacy of such a contract—the trinus contractus, as it was
called—was maintained by Carletus in the Summa Angelica, which was
published about 1476, and by Biel.[1] Early in the sixteenth century
Eck, a young professor at Ingolstadt, brought the question of the
legitimacy of this contract before the University of Bologna, but no
formal decision was pronounced, and, had it not been for the reaction
following the Reformation, the trinus contractus would probably have
gained general acceptance. As it was, it was condemned by a provincial
synod at Milan in 1565, and by Sixtus V. in 1585.[2]
[Footnote 1: Op. cit., IV. xv. 11. Lecky attributed the invention of
the trinus contractus to the Jesuits—who were only founded in 1534
(History of Rationalism, vol. ii. p. 267).]
[Footnote 2: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. ii. pp. 439 et seqq.;
Cleary, op. cit., pp. 126 et seqq.]
We should also refer to the contract of bottomry, which consisted of a
loan made to the owner—or in some cases the master—of a ship, on
the security of the ship, to be repaid with interest upon the safe
conclusion of a voyage. This contract could not be considered a
partnership, inasmuch as the property in the money passed to the
borrower; but it probably escaped condemnation as usurious on the
ground that the lender shared in the risk of the enterprise. The
payment of some additional sum over and above the money lent might
thus be justified on the ground of periculum sortis. The contract,
moreover, was really one of insurance for the shipowner, and contracts
of insurance were clearly legitimate. In any event the legitimacy of
loans on bottomry was not questioned before the sixteenth century.[1]
[Footnote 1: Ashley, op. cit., vol. i. pt. ii. pp. 421-3; Palgrave,
Dictionary of Political Economy, art. 'Bottomry'; Cunningham,
Growth of English Industry and Commerce, vol i. p. 257.]
§ 10. Concluding Remarks on Usury.
It is to be hoped that the above exposition of the mediæval doctrine
on usury will dispel the idea that the doctrine was founded upon the
injustice of unearned income. Far from the receipt of an unearned
income from money or other capital being in all cases condemned, it
was unanimously recognised, provided that the income accrued to the
owner of the capital, and not to somebody else, and that the rate
of remuneration was just. The teaching on partnership rested on the
fundamental assumption that a man might trade with his money, either
by using it himself, or by allowing other people to use it on his
behalf. In the latter case, the person making use of the money might
be either assured of being paid a fixed remuneration for his services,
in which case the contract was one of locatio operarum, or he might
be willing to let his remuneration depend upon the result of the
enterprise, in which case the contract was one of societas. In
either case the right of the owner of the money to reap a profit from
the operation was unquestioned, provided only that he was willing to
share the risks of loss. But if, instead of making use of his money
for trading either by his own exertions or by those of his partner
or agent, he chose to sell his money, he was not permitted to receive
more for it than its just price—which was, in fact, the repayment of
the same amount. This was what happened in the case of a mutuum. In
that case the ownership of the money was transferred to the borrower,
who was perfectly at liberty to trade with it, if he so desired, and
to reap whatever gain that trade produced. The prohibition of usury,
far from being proof of the injustice of an income from capital, is
proof of quite the contrary, because it was designed to insure that
the income from capital should belong to the owner of that capital and
to no other person.[1] Although, therefore, no price could be paid for
a loan, the lender must be prevented from suffering any damage from
making the loan, and he might make good his loss by virtue of the
implied collateral contract of indemnity, which we discussed above
when treating of extrinsic titles. If the lender, through making the
loan, had been prevented from making a profit in trade, he might be
indemnified for that loss. All through the discussions on usury we
find express recognition of the justice of the owner of money deriving
an income from its employment; all that the teaching of usury was at
pains to define was who the person was to whom money, which was the
subject matter of a mutuum, belonged. It is quite impossible to
comprehend how modern writers can see in the usury teaching of the
scholastics a fatal discouragement to the enterprise of traders and
capitalists; and it is equally impossible to understand how
socialists can find in that doctrine any suggestion of support for the
proposition that all unearned income is immoral and unjust.
[Footnote 1: See Rambaud, op. cit., p. 59.]
We have already drawn attention to the fact that there was no branch
of economics about which such profound ignorance ruled in the earlier
Middle Ages as that of money. As we stated above, even as late as
the twelfth century, the theologians were quite content to quote the
ill-founded and erroneous opinions of Isidore of Seville as final
on the subject. It will be remembered that we also remarked that
the question of money was the first economic question to receive
systematic scientific treatment from the writers of the later Middle
Ages. This remarkable development of opinion on this subject is
practically the work of one man, Nicholas Oresme, Bishop of Lisieux,
whose treatise, De Origine, Natura, Jure et Mutationibus Monetarum,
is the earliest example of a pure economic monograph in the modern
sense. 'The scholastics,' says Roscher, 'extended their inquiries from
the economic point of view further than one is generally disposed to
believe; although it is true that they often did so under a singular
form…. We can, however, single out Oresme as the greatest scholastic
economist for two reasons: on account of the exactitude and clarity
of his ideas, and because he succeeded in freeing himself from the
pseudo-theological systematisation of things in general, and from the
pseudo-philosophical deduction in details.'[1]
[Footnote 1: Quoted in the Introduction to Wolowski's edition of
Oresme's Tractatus (Paris, 1864).]
Even in the thirteenth century natural economy had not been
replaced to any large extent by money economy. The great majority
of transactions between man and man were carried on without the
intervention of money payments; and the amount of coin in circulation
was consequently small.[1] The question of currency was not therefore
one to engage the serious attention of the writers of the time.
Aquinas does not deal with money in the Summa, except
incidentally, and his references to the subject in the De Regimine
Principum—which occur in the chapters of that work of which
the authorship is disputed—simply go to the length of approving
Aristotle's opinions on money, and advising the prince to exercise
moderation in the exercise of his power of coining sive in mutando
sive in diminuendo pondus.[2]
[Footnote 1: Brants, op. cit., p. 179; Rambaud, op. cit., p. 73.]
[Footnote 2: De Reg. Prin., ii. 13.]
As is often the case, the discussion of the rights and duties of the
sovereign in connection with the currency only arose when it became
necessary for the public to protest against abuses. Philip the Fair of
France made it part of his policy to increase the revenue by tampering
with the coinage, a policy which was continued by his successors,
until it became an intolerable grievance to his subjects. In vain did
the Pope thunder against Philip;[1] in vain did the greatest poet of
the age denounce
'him that doth work
With his adulterate money on the Seine.'[2]
[Footnote 1: Le Blant, Traité historique des Monnaies de France, p.
184.]
[Footnote 2: Dante, Paradiso, xix.]
Matters continued to grow steadily worse until the middle of the
fourteenth century. During the year 1348 there were no less than
eleven variations in the value of money in France; in 1349 there were
nine, in 1351 eighteen, in 1353 thirteen, and in 1355 eighteen again.
In the course of a single year the value of the silver mark sprang
from four to seventeen livres, and fell back again to four.[1] The
practice of fixing the price of many necessary commodities must have
aggravated the natural evil consequences of such fluctuations.[2]
[Footnote 1: Wolowski's Introduction to Oresme's Tractatus, p.
xxvii.]
[Footnote 2: See Endemann, Studien, vol. ii. p. 34.]
This grievance had the good result of fixing the attention of scholars
on the money question. 'Under the stress of facts and of necessity,'
says Brants, 'thinkers applied their minds to the details of the
theory of money, which was the department of economics which, thanks
to events, received the earliest illumination. Lawyers, bankers,
money-changers, doctors of theology, and publicists of every kind,
attached a thoroughly justifiable importance to the question of money.
We are no doubt far from knowing all the treatises which saw the light
in the fourteenth century upon this weighty question; but we know
enough to affirm that the monetary doctrine was very developed and
very far-seeing.'[1] Buridan analysed the different functions and
utilities of money, and explained the different ways in which its
value might be changed.[2] He did not, however, proceed to discuss the
much more important question as to when the sovereign was entitled
to make these alterations. This was reserved for Nicholas Oresme, who
published his famous treatise about the year 1373. The merits of this
work have excited the unanimous admiration of all who have studied it.
Roscher says that it contains 'a theory of money, elaborated in the
fourteenth century, which remains perfectly correct to-day, under the
test of the principles applied in the nineteenth century, and that
with a brevity, a precision, a clarity, and a simplicity of language
which is a striking proof of the superior genius of its author.'[3]
According to Brants, 'the treatise of Oresme is one of the first to
be devoted ex professo to an economic subject, and it expresses many
ideas which are very just, more just than those which held the field
for a long period after him, under the name of mercantilism, and more
just than those which allowed of the reduction of money as if it were
nothing more than a counter of exchange.'[4] 'Oresme's treatise on
money,' says Macleod, 'may be justly said to stand at the head of
modern economic literature. This treatise laid the foundations of
monetary science, which are now accepted by all sound economists.'[5]
'Oresme's completely secular and naturalistic method of treating one
of the most important problems of political economy,' says Espinas,
'is a signal of the approaching end of the Middle Ages and the dawn of
the Renaissance.'[6] Dr. Cunningham adds his tribute of praise: 'The
conceptions of national wealth and national power were ruling ideas in
economic matters for several centuries, and Oresme appears to be the
earliest of the economic writers by whom they were explicitly adopted
as the very basis of his argument…. A large number of points
of economic doctrine in regard to coinage are discussed with much
judgment and clearness.'[7] Endemann alone is[8] inclined to quarrel
with the pre-eminence of Oresme; but on this question, he is in a
minority of one.[9]
[Footnote 1: Op. cit., p. 186.]
[Footnote 2: Quaest. super Lib. Eth., v. 17; Quaest. super Lib.
Pol., i. 11.]
[Footnote 3: Quoted in Wolowski, op. cit., and see Roscher,
Geschichte, p. 25.]
[Footnote 4: Op. cit., p. 190.]
[Footnote 5: History of Economics, p. 37.]
[Footnote 6: Op. cit., p. 110.]
[Footnote 7: Growth of English Industry and Commerce, vol. i. p.
359.]
[Footnote 8: Grundsätze, p. 75.]
[Footnote 9: See an interesting note in Brants, op. cit., p. 187.]
The principal question which Oresme sets out to answer, according to
the first chapter of this treatise, is whether the sovereign has the
right to alter the value of the money in circulation at his pleasure,
and for his own benefit. He begins the discussion by going over the
same ground as Aristotle in demonstrating the origin and utility of
money, and then proceeds to discuss the most suitable materials
which can be made to serve as money. He decides in favour of gold and
silver, and shows himself an unquestioning bimetallist. He further
admits the necessity of some token money of small denominations, to be
composed of the baser metals. Having drawn attention to the transition
from the circulation of money, the value of which is recognised
solely by weight, to the circulation of that which is accepted for its
imprint or superscription, the author insists that the production of
such an imprinted coinage is essentially a matter for the sovereign
authority in the State. Oresme now comes to the central point of his
thesis. Although, he says, the prince has undoubtedly the power to
manufacture and control the coinage, he is by no means the owner of it
after it has passed into circulation, because money is a thing which
in its essence was invented and introduced in the interests of society
as a whole.
Oresme then proceeds to apply this central principle to the solution
of the question which he sets himself to answer, and concludes that,
as money is essentially a thing which exists for the public benefit,
it must not be tampered with, nor varied in value, except in cases of
absolute necessity, and in the presence of an uncontroverted general
utility. He bases his opposition to unnecessary monetary variation on
the perfectly sound ground that such variation is productive of loss
either to those who are bound to make or bound to receive fixed sums
in payment of obligations. The author then goes on to analyse the
various kinds of variation, which he says are five—figurae,
proportionis, appellationis, ponderis, and materiae. Changes
of form (figurae) are only justified when it is found that the
existing form is liable to increase the damage which the coins suffer
from the wear and tear of usage, or when the existing currency has
been degraded by widespread illegal coining; changes proportionis
are only allowable when the relative value of the different metals
constituting the coinage have themselves changed; simple changes of
name (appellationis), such as calling a mark a pound, are never
allowed. Changes of the weight of the coins (ponderis) are
pronounced by Oresme to be just as gross a fraud as the arbitrary
alteration of the weights or measures by which corn or wine are sold;
and changes of matter (materiae) are only to be tolerated when the
supply of the old metal has become insufficient. The debasement of the
coinage by the introduction of a cheaper alloy is condemned.
In conclusion, Oresme insists that no alteration of any of the above
kinds can be justified at the mere injunction of the prince; it must
be accomplished per ipsam communitatem. The prince exercises
the functions of the community in the matter of coinage not as
principalis actor, but as ordinationis publicae executor. It is
pointed out that arbitrary changes in the value of money are really
equivalent to a particularly noxious form of taxation; that they
seriously disorganise commerce and impoverish many merchants; and
that the bad coinage drives the good out of circulation. This last
observation is of special interest in a fourteenth-century writer,
as it shows that Gresham's Law, which is usually credited to a
sixteenth-century English economist, was perfectly well understood in
the Middle Ages.[1]
[Footnote 1: The best edition of Oresme's Tractatus is that by
Wolowski, published at Paris in 1864, which includes both the Latin
and French texts.]
This brief account of the ground which Oresme covered, and the
conclusions at which he arrived, will enable us to appreciate his
importance. Although his clear elucidation of the principles which
govern the questions of money was not powerful enough to check the
financial abuses of the sovereigns of the later Middle Ages, they
exercised a profound influence on the thought of the period, and were
accepted by all the theologians of the fifteenth century.[2]
[Footnote 2: Biel, op. cit., IV. xv. 11; De Monetarum Potestate et
Utilitate, referred to in Jourdain, op. cit., p. 34.]