The first duty of the sovereign, that of protecting
the society from the violence and
invasion of other independent societies, can
be performed only by means of a military
force. But the expense both of preparing
this military force in time of peace, and of
employing it in time of war, is very different
in the different states of society, in the different
periods of improvement.
Among nations of hunters, the lowest and
rudest state of society, such as we find it
among the native tribes of North America,
every man is a warrior, as well as a hunter.
When he goes to war, either to defend his
society, or to revenge the injuries which have
been done to it by other societies, he maintains
himself by his own labour, in the same
manner as when he lives at home. His society
(for in this state of things there is properly
neither sovereign nor commonwealth)
is at no sort of expense, either to prepare
him for the field, or to maintain him while he
is in it.
Among nations of shepherds, a more advanced
state of society, such as we find it
among the Tartar and Arabs, every man is,
in the same manner a warrior. Such nations
have commonly no fixed habitation, but live
either in tents, or in a sort of covered wagons,
which are easily transported from place
to place. The whole tribe, or nation, changes
its situation according to the different seasons
of the year, as well as according to other
accidents. When its herds and flocks have
consumed the forage of one part of the
country, it removes to another, and from
that to a third. In the dry season, it comes
down to the banks of the rivers; in the wet
season, it retires to the upper country.
When such a nation goes to war, the warriors
will not trust their herds and flocks to
the feeble defence of their old men, their
women and children; and their old men,
their women and children, will not be left
behind without defence, and without subsistence.
The whole nation, besides, being accustomed
to a wandering life, even in time
of peace, easily takes the field in time of war.
Whether it marches as an army, or moves
about as a company of herdsmen, the way of
life is nearly the same, though the object
proposed by it be very different. They all
go to war together, therefore, and every one
does as well as he can. Among the Tartars,
even the women have been frequently known
to engage in battle. If they conquer, whatever
belongs to the hostile tribe is the recompence
of the victory; but if they are vanquished,
all is lost; and not only their herds
and flocks, but their women and children,
become the booty of the conqueror. Even
the greater part of those who survive the action
are obliged to submit to him for the sake
of immediate subsistence. The rest are commonly
dissipated and dispersed in the desert.
The ordinary life, the ordinary exercise of
a Tartar or Arab, prepare him sufficiently
for war. Running, wrestling, cudgel-playing,
throwing the javelin, drawing the bow,
&c. are the common pastimes of those who
live in the open air, and are all of them the
images of war. When a Tartar or Arab
actually goes to war, he is maintained by his
own herds and flocks, which he carries with
him, in the same manner as in peace. His
chief or sovereign (for those nations have all
chiefs or sovereigns) is at no sort of expense
in preparing him for the field; and when he
is in it, the chance of plunder is the only pay
which he either expects or requires.
An army of hunters can seldom exceed two
or three hundred men. The precarious subsistence
which the chace affords, could seldom
allow a greater number to keep together for
any considerable time. An army of shepherds,
on the contrary, may sometimes amount
to two or three hundred thousand. As long
as nothing stops their progress, as long as they
can go on from one district, of which they
have consumed the forage, to another, which
is yet entire; there seems to be scarce any
limit to the number who can march on together.
A nation of hunters can never be
formidable to the civilized nations in their
neighbourhood; a nation of shepherds may.
Nothing can be more contemptible than an
Indian war in North America; nothing, on
the contrary, can be more dreadful than a
Tartar invasion has frequently been in Asia.
The judgement of Thucydides, that both Europe
and Asia could not resist the Scythians
united, has been verified by the experience of
all ages. The inhabitants of the extensive,
but defenceles plains of Scythia or Tartary,
have been frequently united under the dominion
of the chief of some conquering horde
or clan; and the havock and devastation of
Asia have always signalized their union. The
inhabitants of the inhospitable deserts of
Arabia, the other great nation of shepherds,
have never been united but once, under Mahomet
and his immediate successors. Their
union, which was more the effect of religious
enthusiasm than of conquest, was signalized
in the same manner. If the hunting nations
of America should ever become shepherds,
their neighbourhood would be much more
dangerous to the European colonies than it is
at present.
In a yet more advanced state of society,
among those nations of husbandmen who have
little foreign commerce, and no other manufactures
but those coarse and household ones,
which almost every private family prepares
for its own use, every man, in the same
manner, either is a warrior, or easily becomes
such. Those who live by agriculture generally
pass the whole day in the open air, exposed
to all the inclemencies of the seasons.
The hardiness of their ordinary life prepares
them for the fatigues of war, to some of which
their necessary occupations bear a great analogy.
The necessary occupation of a ditcher
prepares him to work in the trenches, and to
fortify a camp, as well as to inclose a field.
The ordinary pastimes of such husbandmen
are the same as those of shepherds, and are in
the same manner the images of war. But as
husbandmen have less leisure than shepherds,
they are not so frequently employed in those
pastimes. They are soldiers, but soldiers not
quite so much masters of their exercise. Such
as they are, however, it seldom costs the sovereign
or commonwealth any expense to prepare
them for the field.
Agriculture, even in its rudest and lowest
state, supposes a settlement, some sort of fixed
habitation, which cannot be abandoned
without great loss. When a nation of mere
husbandmen, therefore, goes to war, the whole
people cannot take the field together. The
old men, the women and children, at least,
must remain at home, to take care of the habitation.
All the men of the military age,
however, may take the field, and in small nations
of this kind, have frequently done so.
In every nation, the men of the military age
are supposed to amount to about a fourth or
a fifth part of the whole body of the people.
If the campaign, too, should begin after seed-time,
and end before harvest, both the husbandman
and his principal labourers can be
spared from the farm without much loss. He
trusts that the work which must be done in
the mean time, can be well enough executed
by the old men, the women, and the children.
He is not unwilling, therefore, to serve without
pay during a short campaign; and it frequently
costs the sovereign or commonwealth
as little to maintain him in the field as to prepare
him for it. The citizens of all the different
states of ancient Greece seem to have
served in this manner till after the second
Persian war; and the people of Peloponnesus
till after the Peloponnesian war. The
Peloponnesians, Thucydides observes, generally
left the field in the summer, and returned
home to reap the harvest. The Roman
people, under their kings, and during the first
ages of the republic, served in the same manner.
It was not till the siege of Veii, that
they who staid at home began to contribute
something towards maintaining those who
went to war. In the European monarchies,
which were founded upon the ruins of the
Roman empire, both before, and for some
time after, the establishment of what is properly
called the feudal law, the great lords,
with all their immediate dependents, used to
serve the crown at their own expense. In
the field, in the same manner as at home,
they maintained themselves by their own revenue,
and not by any stipend or pay which
they received from the king upon that particular
occasion.
In a more advanced state of society, two
different causes contribute to render it altogether
impossible that they who take the field
should maintain themselves at their own expense.
Those two causes are, the progress of
manufactures, and the improvement in the art
of war.
Though a husbandman should be employed
in an expedition, provided it begins after seed-time,
and ends before harvest, the interruption
of his business will not always occasion any
considerable diminution of his revenue. Without
the intervention of his labour, Nature
does herself the greater part of the work which
remains to be done. But the moment that an
artificer, a smith, a carpenter, or a weaver,
for example, quits his workhouse, the sole
source of his revenue is completely dried up.
Nature does nothing for him; he does all for
himself. When he takes the field, therefore,
in defence of the public, as he has no revenue
to maintain himself, he must necessarily be
maintained by the public. But in a country,
of which a great part of the inhabitants are
artificers and manufacturers, a great part
the people who go to war must be drawn from
those classes, and must, therefore, be maintained
by the public as long as they are employed
in its service.
When the art of war, too, has gradually
grown up to be a very intricate and complicated
science; when the event of war ceases
to be determined, as in the first ages of society,
by a single irregular skirmish or battle;
but when the contest is generally spun out
through several different campaigns, each of
which lasts during the greater part of the
year; it becomes universally necessary that
the public should maintain those who serve
the public in war, at least while they are employed
in that service. Whatever, in time of
peace, might be the ordinary occupation of
those who go to war, so very tedious and expensive
a service would otherwise be by far
too heavy a burden upon them. After the second
Persian war, accordingly, the armies of
Athens seem to have been generally composed
of mercenary troops, consisting, indeed, partly
of citizens, but partly, too, of foreigners;
and all of them equally hired and paid at the
expense of the state. From the time of the
siege of Veii, the armies of Rome received
pay for their service during the time which
they remained in the field. Under the feudal
governments, the military service, both of the
great lords, and of their immediate dependents,
was, after a certain period, universally
exchanged for a payment in money, which
was employed to maintain those who served
in their stead.
The number of those who can go to war,
in proportion to the whole number of the
people, is necessarily much smaller in a civilized
than in a rude state of society. In
a civilized society, as the soldiers are maintained
altogether by the labour of those
who are not soldiers, the number of the former
can never exceed what the latter can
maintain, over and above maintaining, in a
manner suitable to their respective stations,
both themselves and the other officers of government
and law, whom they are obliged to
maintain. In the little agrarian states of ancient
Greece, a fourth or a fifth part of the
whole body of the people considered themselves
as soldiers, and would sometimes, it is
said, take the field. Among the civilized nations
of modern Europe, it is commonly computed,
that not more than the one hundredth
part of the inhabitants of any country can be
employed as soldiers, without ruin to the
country which pays the expense of their service.
The expense of preparing the army for the
field seems not to have become considerable
in any nation, till long after that of maintaining
it in the field had devolved entirely upon
the sovereign or commonwealth. In all the
different republics of ancient Greece, to learn
his military exercises, was a necessary part of
education imposed by the state upon every
free citizen. In every city there seems to
have been a public field, in which, under the
protection of the public magistrate, the young
people were taught their different exercises
by different masters. In this very simple institution
consisted the whole expense which
any Grecian state seems ever to have been at,
in preparing its citizens for war. In ancient
Rome, the exercises of the Campus Martius
answered the same purpose with those of the
Gymnasium in ancient Greece. Under the
feudal governments, the many public ordinances,
that the citizens of every district should
practise archery, as well as several other military
exercises, were intended for promoting
the same purpose, but do not seem to have
promoted it so well. Either from want of
interest in the officers entrusted with the execution
of those ordinances, or from some other
cause, they appear to have been universally
neglected; and in the progress of all those
governments, military exercises seem to have
gone gradually into disuse among the great
body of the people.
In the republic of ancient Greece and
Rome, during the whole period of their existence,
and under the feudal governments, for
a considerable time after their first establishment,
the trade of a soldier was not a separate,
distinct trade, which constituted the sole
or principal occupation of a particular class of
citizens; every subject of the state, whatever
might be the ordinary trade or occupation by
which he gained his livelihood, considered
himself, upon all ordinary occasions, as fit
likewise to exercise the trade of a soldier, and,
upon many extraordinary occasions, as bound
to exercise it.
The art of war, however, as it is certainly
the noblest of all arts, so, in the progress of
improvement, it necessarily becomes one of
most complicated among them. The state
of the mechanical, as well as some other arts,
with which it is necessarily connected, determines
the degree of perfection to which it is
capable of being carried at any particular
time. But in order to carry it to this degree
of perfection, it is necessary that it should become
the sole or principal occupation of a
particular class of citizens; and the division
of labour is as necessary for the improvement
of this, as of every other art. Into other
arts, the division of labour is naturally introduced
by the prudence of individuals, who
find that they promote their private interest
better by confining themselves to a particular
trade, than by exercising a great number.
But it is the wisdom of the state only, which
can render the trade of a soldier a particular
trade, separate and distinct from all others.
A private citizen, who, in time of profound
peace, and without any particular encouragement
from the public, should spend the greater
part of his time in military exercises, might,
no doubt, both improve himself very much in
them, and amuse himself very well; but he
certainly would not promote his own interest.
It is the wisdom of the state only, which can
render it for his interest to give up the greater
part of his time to this peculiar occupation;
and states have not always had this wisdom,
even when their circumstances had become
such, that the preservation of their existence
required that they should have it.
A shepherd has a great deal of leisure; a
husbandman, in the rude state of husbandry,
has some; an artificer or manufacturer has
none at all. The first may, without any loss,
employ a great deal of his time in martial exercises;
the second may employ some part of
it; but the last cannot employ a single hour
in them without some loss, and his attention
to his own interest naturally leads him to neglect
them altogether. Those improvements in
husbandry, too, which the progress of arts
and manufacturers necessarily introduces, leave
the husbandman as little leisure as the artificer.
Military exercises come to be as much
neglected by the inhabitants of the country as
by those of the town, and the great body of the
people becomes altogether unwarlike. That
wealth, at the same time, which always follows
the improvements of agriculture and manufactures,
and which, in reality, is no more than
the accumulated produce of those improvements,
provokes the invasion of all their
neighbours. An industrious, and, upon that
account, a wealthy nation, is of all nations
the most likely to be attacked; and unless the
states takes some new measure for the public
defence, the natural habits of the people render
them altogether incapable of defending
themselves.
In these circumstances, there seem to be
but two methods by which the state can
make any tolerable provision for the public
defence.
If may either, first, by means of a very rigorous
police, and in spite of the whole bent
of the interest, genius, and inclinations of the
people, enforce the practice of military exercises,
and oblige either all the citizens of the
military age, or a certain number of them, to
join in some measure the trade of a soldier to
whatever other trade or profession they may
happen to carry on.
Or, secondly, by maintaining and employing
a certain number of citizens in the constant
practice of military exercises, it may
render the trade of a soldier a particular trade,
separate and distinct from all others.
If the state has recourse to the first of those
two expedients, its military force is said to
consist in a militia; if to the second, it is
said to consist in a standing army. The practice
of military exercises is the sole or principal
occupation of the soldiers of a standing
army, and the maintenance or pay which the
state affords them is the principal and ordinary
fund of their subsistence. The practice
of military exercises is only the occasional occupation
of the soldiers of a militia, and they
derive the principal and ordinary fund of their
subsistence from some other occupation. In
a militia, the character of the labourer, artificer,
or tradesman, predominates over that of
the soldier; in a standing army, that of the
soldier predominates over every other character;
and in this distinction seems to consist the
essential difference between those two different
species of military force.
Militias have been of several different kinds.
In some countries, the citizens destined for
defending the state seem to have been exercised
only, without being, if I may say so, regimented;
that is, without being divided into
separate and distinct bodies of troops, each
of which performed its exercises under its
own proper and permanent officers. In the
republics of ancient Greece and Rome, each
citizen, as long as he remained at home, seems
to have practiced his exercises, either separately
and independently, or with such of his
equals as he liked best; and not to have been
attached to any particular body of troops, till
he was actually called upon to take the field.
In other countries, the militia has not only
been exercised, but regimented. In England,
in Switzerland, and, I believe, in every other
country of modern Europe, where any imperfect
military force of this kind has been
established, every militiaman is, even in time
of peace, attached to a particular body of
troops, which performs its exercises under its
own proper and permanent officers.
Before the invention of fire-arms, that army
was superior in which the soldiers had, each
individually, the greatest skill and dexterity
in the use of their arms. Strength and agility
of body were of the highest consequence,
and commonly determined the fate of battles.
But this skill and dexterity in the use of their
arms could be acquired only, in the same
manner as fencing is at present, by practising,
not in great bodies, but each man separately,
in a particular school, under a particular
master, or with his own particular equals and
companions. Since the invention of fire-arms,
strength and agility of body, or even
extraordinary dexterity and skill in the use of
arms, though they are far from being of no
consequence, are, however, of less consequence.
The nature of the weapon, though
it by no means puts the awkward upon a
level with the skilful, puts him more nearly
so than he ever was before. All the dexterity
and skill, it is supposed, which are necessary
for using it, can be well enough acquired by
practising in great bodies.
Regularity, order, and prompt obedience to
command, are qualities which, in modern
armies, are of more importance towards determining
the fate of battles, than the dexterity
and skill of the soldiers in the use of their
arms. But the noise of fire-arms, the smoke,
and the invisible death to which every man
feels himself every moment exposed, as soon
as he comes within cannon-shot, and frequently
a long time before the battle can be
well said to be engaged, must render it very
difficult to maintain any considerable degree
of this regularity, order, and prompt obedience,
even in the beginning of a modern
battle. In an ancient battle, there was no
noise but what arose from the human voice;
there was no smoke, there was no invisible
cause of wounds or death. Every man, till
some mortal weapon actually did approach
him, saw clearly that no such weapon was
near him. In these circumstances, and
among troops who had some confidence in
their own skill and dexterity in the use of
their arms, it must have been a good deal
less difficult to preserve some degree of regularity
and order, not only in the beginning,
but through the whole progress of an ancient
battle, and till one of the two armies was
fairly defeated. But the habits of regularity,
order, and prompt obedience to command,
can be acquired only by troops which are
exercised in great bodies.
A militia, however, in whatever manner it
may be either disciplined or exercised, must
always be much inferior to a well disciplined
and well exercised standing army.
The soldiers who are exercised only once a-week,
or once a-month, can never be so expert
in the use of their arms, as those who are
exercised every day, or every other day; and
though this circumstance may not be of so
much consequence in modern, as it was in
ancient times, yet the acknowledged superiority
of the Prussian troops, owing, it is said,
very much to their superior expertness in
their exercise, may satisfy us that it is, even
at this day, of very considerable consequence.
The soldiers, who are bound to obey their
officer only once a-week, or once a-month,
and who are at all other times at liberty to
manage their own affairs their own way,
without being, in any respect, accountable to
him, can never be under the same awe in his
presence, can never have the same disposition
to ready obedience, with those whose whole
life and conduct are every day directed by
him, and who every day even rise and go to
bed, or at least retire to their quarters, according
to his orders. In what is called discipline,
or in the habit of ready obedience, a
militia must always be still more inferior to a
standing army, than it may sometimes be in
what is called the manual exercise, or in the
management and use of its arms. But, in
modern war, the habit of ready and instant
obedience is of much greater consequence
than a considerable superiority in the management
of arms.
Those militias which, like the Tartar or Arab
militia, go to war under the same chieftains
whom they are accustomed to obey in peace,
are by far the best. In respect for their
officers, in the habit of ready obedience,
they approach nearest to standing armies.
The Highland militia, when it served under
its own chieftains, had some advantage of the
same kind. As the Highlanders, however,
were not wandering, but stationary shepherds,
as they had all a fixed habitation, and were
not, in peaceable times, accustomed to follow
their chieftain from place to place; so, in
time of war, they were less willing to follow
him to any considerable distance, or to continue
for any long time in the field. When
they had acquired any booty, they were eager
to return home, and his authority was seldom
sufficient to detain them. In point of obedience,
they were always much inferior to
what is reported of the Tartars and Arabs.
As the Highlanders, too, from their stationary
life, spend less of their time in the open air,
they were always less accustomed to military
exercises, and were less expert in the use of
their arms than the Tartars and Arabs are said
to be.
A militia of any kind, it must be observed,
however, which has served for several successive
campaigns in the field, becomes in
every respect a standing army. The soldiers
are every day exercised in the use of their
arms, and, being constantly under the command
of their officers, are habituated to the
same prompt obedience which takes place in
standing armies. What they were before
they took the field, is of little importance.
They necessarily become in every respect a
standing army, after they have passed a few
campaigns in it. Should the war in America
drag out through another campaign, the
American militia may become, in every respect,
a match for that standing army, of
which the valour appeared, in the last war at
least, not inferior to that of the hardiest veterans
of France and Spain.
This distinction being well understood, the
history of all ages, it will be found, bears
testimony to the irresistible superiority which
a well regulated standing army has over a
militia.
One of the first standing armies, of which
we have any distinct account in any well
authenticated history, is that of Philip of
Macedon. His frequent wars with the Thracians,
Illyrians, Thessalians, and some of the
Greek cities in the neighbourhood of Macedon,
gradually formed his troops, which in
the beginning were probably militia, to the
exact discipline of a standing army. When
he was at peace, which he was very seldom,
and never for any long time together, he was
careful not to disband that army. It vanquished
and subdued, after a long and violent
struggle, indeed, the gallant and well
exercised militias of the principal republics
of ancient Greece; and afterwards, with very
little struggle, the effeminate and ill exercised
militia of the great Persian empire. The
fall of the Greek republics, and of the Persian
empire was the effect of the irresistible
superiority which a standing army has over
every other sort of militia. It is the first
great revolution in the affairs of mankind of
which history has preserved any distinct and
circumstantial account.
The fall of Carthage, and the consequent
elevation of Rome, is the second. All the
varieties in the fortune of those two famous
republics may very well be accounted for from
the same cause.
From the end of the first to the beginning
of the second Carthaginian war, the armies
of Carthage were continually in the field, and
employed under three great generals, who
succeeded one another in the command;
Amilcar, his son-in-law Asdrubal, and his
son Annibal: first in chastising their own
rebellious slaves, afterwards in subduing the
revolted nations of Africa; and lastly, in
conquering the great kingdom of Spain. The
army which Annibal led from Spain into
Italy must necessarily, in those different
wars, have been gradually formed to the
exact discipline of standing army. The
Romans, in the meantime, though they had
not been altogether at peace, yet they had
not, during this period, been engaged in any
war of very great consequence; and their
military discipline, it is generally said, was a
good deal relaxed. The Roman armies
which Annibal encountered at Trebi, Thrasymenus,
and Cannæ, were militia opposed to
a standing army. This circumstance, it is
probable, contributed more than any other to
determine the fate of those battles.
The standing army which Annibal left
behind him in Spain had the like superiority
over the militia which the Romans sent to
oppose it; and, in a few years, under the
command of his brother, the younger Asdrubal,
expelled them almost entirely from
that country.
Annibal was ill supplied from home. The
Roman militia, being continually in the field,
became, in the progress of the war, a well
disciplined and well exercised standing army;
and the superiority of Annibal grew every
day less and less. Asdrubal judged it necessary
to lead the whole, or almost the
whole, of the standing army which he commanded
in Spain, to the assistance of his
brother in Italy. In this march, he is said
to have been misled by his guides; and in a
country which he did not know, was surprised
and attacked, by another standing
army, in every respect equal or superior to
his own, and was entirely defeated.
When Asdrubal had left Spain, the great
Scipio found nothing to oppose him but a
militia inferior to his own. He conquered
and subdued that militia, and, in the course
of the war, his own militia necessarily became
a well disciplined and well exercised standing
army. That standing army was afterwards
carried to Africa, where it found nothing but
a militia to oppose it. In order to defend
Carthage, it became necessary to recal the
standing army of Annibal. The disheartened
and frequently defeated African militia joined
it, and, at the battle of Zama, composed the
greater part of the troops of Annibal. The
event of that day determined the fate of the
two rival republics.
From the end of the second Carthaginian
war till the fall of the Roman republic, the
armies of Rome were in every respect standing
armies. The standing army of Macedon
made some resistance to their arms. In the
height of their grandeur, it cost them two
great wars, and three great battles, to subdue
that little kingdom, of which the conquest
would probably have been still more difficult,
had it not been for the cowardice of its last
king. The militias of all the civilized nations
of the ancient word, of Greece, of Syria,
and of Egypt, made but a feeble resistance
to the standing armies of Rome. The militias
of some barbarous nations defended
themselves much better. The Scythian or
Tartar militia, which Mithridates drew from
the countries north of the Euxine and Caspian
seas, were the most formidable enemies
whom the Romans had to encounter after the
second Carthaginian war. The Parthian and
German militias, too, were always respectable,
and upon several occasions, gained very considerable
advantages over the Roman armies.
In general, however, and when the Roman
armies were well commanded, they appear to
have been very much superior; and if the
Romans did not pursue the final conquest
either of Parthia or Germany, it was probably
because they judged that it was not worth
while to add those two barbarous countries to
an empire which was already too large. The
ancient Parthians appear to have been a nation
of Scythian or Tartar extraction, and to
have always retained a good deal of the manners
of their ancestors. The ancient Germans
were, like the Scythians or Tartars, a
nation of wandering shepherds, who went to
war under the same chiefs whom they were
accustomed to follow in peace. Their militia
was exactly of the same kind with that of the
Scythians or Tartars, from whom, too, they
were probably descended.
Many different causes contributed to relax
the discipline of the Roman armies. Its extreme
severity was, perhaps, one of those
causes. In the days of their grandeur, when
no enemy appeared capable of opposing them,
their heavy armour was laid aside as unnecessarily
burdensome, their laborious exercises
were neglected, as unnecessarily toilsome.
Under the Roman emperors, besides, the
standing armies of Rome, those particularly
which guarded the German and Pannonian
frontiers, became dangerous to their masters,
against whom they used frequently to set up
their own generals. In order to render them
less formidable, according to some authors,
Dioclesian, according to others, Constantine,
first withdrew them from the frontier, where
they had always before been encamped in great
bodies, generally of two or three legions each,
and dispersed them in small bodies through
the different provincial towns, from whence
they were scarce ever removed, but when it
became necessary to repel an invasion. Small
bodies of soldiers, quartered in trading and
manufacturing towns, and seldom removed
from those quarters, became themselves
tradesmen, artificers, and manufacturers.
The civil came to predominate over the military
character; and the standing armies of
Rome gradually degenerated into a corrupt,
neglected, and undisciplined militia, incapable
of resisting the attack of the German and
Scythian militias, which soon afterwards invaded
the western empire. It was only by
hiring the militia of some of those nations to
oppose to that of others, that the emperors
were for some time able to defend themselves.
The fall of the western empire is the third
great revolution in the affairs of mankind, of
which ancient history has preserved any distinct
or circumstantial account. It was
brought about by the irresistible superiority
which the militia of a barbarous has over
that of a civilized nation; which the militia
of a nation of shepherds has over that of a nation
of husbandmen, artificers, and manufacturers.
The victories which have been gained
by militias have generally been, not over standing
armies, but over other militias, in exercise
and discipline inferior to themselves. Such
were the victories which the Greek militia
gained over that of the Persian empire; and
such, too, were those which, in later times,
the Swiss militia gained over that of the Austrians
and Burgundians.
The military force of the German and Scythian
nations, who established themselves upon
the ruins of the western empire, continued
for some time to be of the same kind in their
new settlements, as it had been in their original
country. It was a militia of shepherds
and husbandmen, which, in time of war, took
the field under the command of the same
chieftains whom it was accustomed to obey in
peace. It was, therefore, tolerably well exercised,
and tolerably well disciplined. As
arts and industry advanced, however, the authority
of the chieftains gradually decayed, and
the great body of the people had less time to
spare for military exercises. Both the discipline
and the exercise of the feudal militia,
therefore, went gradually to ruin, and standing
armies were gradually introduced to
supply the place of it. When the expedient
of a standing army, besides, had once been
adopted by one civilized nation, it became
necessary that all its neighbors should follow
the example. They soon found that their
safety depended upon their doing so, and that
their own militia was altogether incapable of
resisting the attack of such an army.
The soldiers of a standing army, though
they may never have seen an enemy, yet have
frequently appeared to possess all the courage
of veteran troops, and, the very moment that
they took the field, to have been fit to face
the hardiest and most experienced veterans.
In 1756, when the Russian army marched
into Poland, the valour of the Russian soldiers
did not appear inferior to that of the
Prussians, at that time supposed to be the
hardiest and most experienced veterans in
Europe. The Russian empire, however,
had enjoyed a profound peace for near twenty
years before, and could at that time have very
few soldiers who had ever seen an enemy.
When the Spanish war broke out in 1739,
England had enjoyed a profound peace for
about eight-and-twenty years. The valour
of her soldiers, however, far from being corrupted
by that long peace, was never more
distinguished than in the attempt upon Carthagena,
the first unfortunate exploit of that
unfortunate war. In a long peace, the generals,
perhaps, may sometimes forget their
skill; but where a well regulated standing
army has been kept up, the soldiers seem never
to forget their valour.
When a civilized nation depends for its
defence upon a militia, it is at all times exposed
to be conquered by any barbarous nation
which happens to be in its neighbourhood.
The frequent conquests of all the
civilized countries in Asia by the Tartars,
sufficiently demonstrates the natural superiority
which the militia of a barbarous has
over that of a civilized nation. A well regulated
standing army is superior to every
militia. Such an army, as it can best be
maintained by an opulent and civilized nation,
so it can alone defend such a nation against
the invasion of a poor and barbarous neighbour.
It is only by means of a standing
army, therefore, that the civilization of any
country can be perpetuated, or even preserved,
for any considerable time.
As it is only by means of a well regulated
standing army, that a civilized country can
be defended, so it is only by means of it that
a barbarous country can be suddenly and tolerably
civilised. A standing army establishes,
with an irresistible force, the law
of the sovereign through the remotest provinces
of the empire, and maintains some degree
of regular government in countries
which could not otherwise admit of any.
Whoever examines with attention, the improvements
which Peter the Great introduced
into the Russian empire, will find that they
almost all resolve themselves into the establishment
of a well regulated standing army.
It is the instrument which executes and maintains
all his other regulations. That degree
of order and internal peace, which that empire
has ever since enjoyed, is altogether owing
to the influence of that army.
Men of republican principles have been
jealous of a standing army, as dangerous to
liberty. It certainly is so, wherever the interest
of the general, and that of the principal
officers, are not necessarily connected with
the support of the constitution of the state.
The standing army of Cæsar destroyed the
Roman republic. The standing army of
Cromwell turned the long parliament out of
doors. But where the sovereign is himself
the general, and the principal nobility and
gentry of the country the chief officers of the
army; where the military force is placed under
the command of those who have the
greatest interest in the support of the civil
authority, because they have themselves the
greatest share of that authority, a standing
army can never be dangerous to liberty. On
the contrary, it may, in some cases, be favourable
to liberty. The security which it
gives to the sovereign renders unnecessary
that troublesome jealousy, which, in some
modern republics, seems to watch over the
minutest actions, and to be at all times ready
to disturb the peace of every citizen. Where
the security of the magistrate, though supported
by the principal people of the country,
is endangered by every popular discontent;
where a small tumult is capable of bringing
about in a few hours a great revolution, the
whole authority of government must be employed
to suppress and punish every murmur
and complaint against it. To a sovereign,
on the contrary, who feels himself supported,
not only by the natural aristocracy of the
country, but by a well regulated standing
army, the rudest, the most groundless, and
the must licentious remonstrances, can give
little disturbance. He can safely pardon or
neglect them, and his consciousness of his
own superiority naturally disposes him to do
so. That degree of liberty which approaches
to licentiousness, can be tolerated only in
countries where the sovereign is secured by a
well regulated standing army. It is in such
countries only, that the public safety does
not require that the sovereign should be trusted
with any discretionary power, for suppressing
even the impertinent wantonness of this
licentious liberty.
The first duty of the sovereign, therefore,
that of defending the society from the violence
and injustice of other independent societies,
grows gradually more and more expensive,
as the society advances in civilization.
The military force of the society,
which originally cost the sovereign no expense,
either in time of peace, or in time of
war, must, in the progress of improvement,
first be maintained by him in time of war,
and afterwards even in time of peace.
The great change introduced into the art
of war by the invention of fire-arms, has enhanced
still further both the expense of exercising
and disciplining any particular number
of soldiers in time of peace, and that of employing
them in time of war. Both their
arms and their ammunition are become more
expensive. A musket is a more expensive
machine than a javelin or a bow and arrows;
a cannon or a mortar, than a balista or a catapulta.
The powder which is spent in a
modern review is lost irrecoverably, and occasions
a very considerable expense. The
javelins and arrows which were thrown or
shot in an ancient one, could easily be picked
up again, and were, besides, of very little
value. The cannon and the mortar are not
only much dearer, but much heavier machines
than the balista or catapulta; and require a
greater expense, not only to prepare them for
the field, but to carry them to it. As the
superiority of the modern artillery, too, over
that of the ancients, is very grant; it has become
much more difficult, and consequently
much more expensive, to fortify a town, so
as to resist, even for a few weeks, the attack
of that superior artillery. In modern times,
many different causes contribute to render the
defence of the society more expensive. The
unavoidable effects of the natural progress of
improvement have, in this respect, been a
good deal enhanced by a great revolution in
the the art of war, to which a mere accident, the
invention of gunpowder, seems to have given
occasion.
In modern war, the great expense of fire-arms
gives an evident advantage to the nation
which can best afford that expense; and
consequently, to an opulent and civilized,
over a poor and barbarous nation. In ancient
times, the opulent and civilized found
it difficult to defend themselves against the
poor and barbarous nations. In modern
times, the poor and barbarous find it difficult
to defend themselves against the opulent and
civilized. The invention of fire-arms, an
invention which at first sight appears to be so
pernicious, is certainly favourable, both to
the permanency and to the extension of civilisation.
The second duty of the sovereign, that of
protecting, as far as possible, every member
of the society from the injustice or oppression
of every other member of it, or the duty of
establishing an exact administration of justice,
requires two very different degrees of expense
in the different periods of society.
Among nations of hunters, as there is
scarce any property, or at least none that exceeds
the value of two or three days labour;
so there is seldom any established magistrate,
or any regular administration of justice.
Men who have no property, can injure one
another only in their persons or reputations.
But when one man kills, wounds, beats, or
defames another, though he to whom the injury
is done suffers, he who does it receives
no benefit. It is otherwise with the injuries
to property. The benefit of the person who
does the injury is often equal to the loss of
him who suffers it. Envy, malice, or resentment,
are the only passions which can prompt
one man to injure another in his person or
reputation. But the greater part of men are
not very frequently under the influence of
those passions; and the very worst men are
so only occasionally. As their gratification,
too, how agreeable soever it may be to certain
characters, is not attended with any real
or permanent advantage, it is, in the greater
part of men, commonly restrained by prudential
considerations. Men may live together
in society with some tolerable degree of security,
though there is no civil magistrate to
protect them from the injustice of those passions.
But avarice and ambition in the rich,
in the poor the hatred of labour and the love
of present ease and enjoyment, are the passions
which prompt to invade property; passions
much more steady in their operation,
and much more universal in their influence.
Wherever there is a great property, there is
great inequality. For one very rich man,
there must be at least five hundred poor, and
the affluence of the few supposes the indigence
of the many. The affluence of the rich
excites the indignation of the poor, who are
often both driven by want, and prompted by
envy to invade his possessions. It is only
under the shelter of the civil magistrate, that
the owner of that valuable property, which is
acquired by the labour of many years, or
perhaps of many successive generations, can
sleep a single night in security. He is at all
times surrounded by unknown enemies,
whom, though he never provoked, he can
never appease, and from whose injustice he
can be protected only by the powerful arm of
the civil magistrate, continually held up to
chastise it. The requisition of valuable and
extensive property, therefore, necessarily
requires the establishment of civil government.
Where there is no property, or at least none
that exceeds the value of two or three days
labour, civil government is not so necessary.
Civil government supposes a certain
subordination. But as the necessity of civil
government gradually grows up with the acquisition
of valuable property, so the principal
causes, which naturally introduce subordination,
gradually grow up with the growth of
that valuable property.
The causes or circumstances which naturally
introduce subordination, or which naturally
and antecedent to any civil institution, give
some men some superiority over the greater
part of their brethren, seem to be four in
number.
The first of those causes or circumstances,
is the superiority of personal qualifications,
of strength, beauty, and agility of body; of
wisdom and virtue of prudence, justice,
fortitude, and moderation of mind. The
qualifications of the body, unless supported
by those of the mind, can give little authority
in any period of society. He is a very strong
man, who, by mere strength of body, can
force two weak ones to obey him. The
qualifications of the mind can alone give very
great authority. They are however, invisible
qualities; always disputable, and generally
disputed. No society, whether barbarous or
civilized, has ever found it convenient to settle
the rules of precedency of rank and subordination,
according to those invisible qualities;
but according to something that is more
plain and palpable.
The second of those causes or circumstances
is the superiority of age. An old man, provided
his age is not so far advanced as to give
suspicion of dotage, is everywhere more
respected than a young man of equal rank, fortune,
and abilities. Among nations of hunters,
such as the native tribes of North America,
age is the sole foundation of rank and
precedency. Among them, father is the
appellation of a superior; brother, of an equal;
and son, of an inferior. In the most opulent
and civilized nations, age regulates rank
among those who are in every other respect
equal; and among whom, therefore, there is nothing
else to regulate it. Among brothers and
among sisters, the eldest always takes place;
and in the succession of the paternal estate,
every thing which cannot be divided, but must
go entire to one person, such as a title of honour,
is in most cases given to the eldest.
Age is a plain and palpable quality, which admits
of no dispute.
The third of those causes or circumstances,
is the superiority of fortune. The authority
of riches, however, though great in every age
of society, is, perhaps, greatest in the rudest
ages of society, which admits of any considerable
inequality of fortune. A Tartar chief,
the increase of whose flocks and herds is
sufficient to maintain a thousand men, cannot
well employ that increase in any other way
than in maintaining a thousand men. The
rude state of his society does not afford him
any manufactured produce; any trinkets or
baubles of any kind, for which he can exchange
that part of his rude produce which
is over and above his own consumption. The
thousand men whom he thus maintains, depending
entirely upon him for their subsistence,
must both obey his orders in war, and
submit to his jurisdiction in peace. He is necessarily
both their general and their judge,
and his chieftainship is the necessary effect of
the superiority of his fortune. In an opulent
and civilized society, a man may possess a
much greater fortune, and yet not be able to
command a dozen of people. Though the
produce of his estate may be sufficient to maintain,
and may, perhaps, actually maintain,
more than a thousand people, yet, as those
people pay for every thing which they get
from him, as he gives scarce any thing to any
body but in exchange for an equivalent, there
is scarce any body who considers himself as
entirely dependent upon him, and his authority
extends only over a few menial servants.
The authority of fortune, however, is very
great, even in an opulent and civilized society.
That it is much greater than that either of age
or of personal qualities, has been the constant
complaint of every period of society which
admitted of any considerable inequality of fortune.
The first period of society, that of
hunters, admits of no such inequality. Universal
poverty establishes their universal equality;
and the superiority, either of age or of
personal qualities, are the feeble, but the sole
foundations of authority and subordination.
There is, therefore, little or no authority or
subordination in this period of society. The
second period of society, that of shepherds,
admits of very great inequalities of fortune,
and there is no period in which the superiority
of fortune gives so great authority to those
who possess it. There is no period, accordingly,
in which authority and subordination
are more perfectly established. The authority
of an Arabian scherif is very great; that of a
Tartar khan altogether despotical.
The fourth of those causes or circumstances,
is the superiority of birth. Superiority of
birth supposes an ancient superiority of fortune
in the family of the person who claims
it. All families are equally ancient; and the
ancestors of the prince, though they may be
better known, cannot well be more numerous
than those of the beggar. Antiquity of family
means everywhere the antiquity either
of wealth, or of that greatness which is commonly
either founded upon wealth, or accompanied
with it. Upstart greatness is everywhere
less respected than ancient greatness.
The hatred of usurpers, the love of the family
of an ancient monarch, are in a great measure
founded open the contempt which men
naturally have for the former, and upon their
veneration for the latter. As a military officer
submits, without reluctance, to the authority
of a superior by whom he has always been
commanded, but cannot bear that his inferior
should be set over his head; so men easily
submit to a family to whom they and their
ancestors have always submitted; but are
fired with indignation when another family,
in whom they had never acknowledged any
such superiority, assumes a dominion over
them.
The distinction of birth, being subsequent
to the inequality of fortune, can have no place
in nations of hunters, among whom all men,
being equal in fortune, must likewise be very
nearly equal in birth. The son of a wise and
brave man may, indeed, even among them,
be somewhat more respected than a man of
equal merit, who has the misfortune to be
the son of a fool or a coward. The difference,
however, will not be very great; and
there never was, I believe, a great family in
the world, whose illustration was entirely derived
from the inheritance of wisdom and
virtue.
The distinction of birth not only may, but
always does, take place among nations of
shepherds. Such nations are always strangers
to every sort of luxury, and great wealth can
scarce ever be dissipated among them by improvident
profusion. There are no nations,
accordingly, who abound more in families revered
and honoured on account of their descent
from a long race of great and illustrious
ancestors; because there are no nations
among whom wealth is likely to continue
longer in the same families.
Birth and fortune are evidently the two circumstances
which principally set one man above
another. They are the two great sources of personal
distinction, and are, therefore, the principal
causes which naturally establish authority
and subordination among men. Among
nations of shepherds, both those causes operate
with their full force. The great shepherd
or herdsman, respected on account of
his great wealth, and of the great number of
those who depend upon him for subsistence,
and revered on account of the nobleness of
his birth, and of the immemorial antiquity of
his illustrious family, has a natural authority
over all the inferior shepherds or herdsmen of
his horde or clan. He can command the
united force of a greater number of people
than any of them. His military power is
greater than that of any of them. In time of
war, they are all of them naturally disposed
to muster themselves under his banner, rather
than under that of any other person; and his
birth and fortune thus naturally procure to
him some sort of executive power. By commanding,
too, the united force of a greater
number of people than any of them, he is best
able to compel any one of them, who may
have injured another, to compensate the
wrong. He is the person, therefore, to whom
all those who are too weak to defend themselves
naturally look up for protection. It is
to him that they naturally complain of the
injuries which they imagine have been done to
them; and his interposition, in such cases, is
more easily submitted to, even by the person
complained of, than that of any other person
would be. His birth and fortune thus naturally
procure him some sort of judicial authority.
It is in the age of shepherds, in the second
period of society, that the inequality of fortune
first begins to take place, and introduces
among men a degree of authority and subordination,
which could not possibly exist before.
It thereby introduces some degree of
that civil government which is indispensably
necessary for its own preservation; and it
seems to do this naturally, and even independent
of the consideration of that necessity.
The consideration of that necessity comes, no
doubt, afterwards, to contribute very much to
maintain and secure that authority and subordination.
The rich, in particular, are necessarily
interested to support that order of
things, which can alone secure them in the
possession of their own advantages. Men of
inferior wealth combine to defend those of
superior wealth in the possession of their property,
in order that men of superior wealth
may combine to defend them in the possession
of theirs. All the inferior shepherds and
herdsmen feel, that the security of their own
herds and flocks depends upon the security of
those of the great shepherd or herdsman;
that the maintenance of their lesser authority
depends upon that of his greater authority;
and that upon their subordination to him depends
his power of keeping their inferiors in
subordination to them. They constitute a
sort of little nobility, who feel themselves interested
to defend the property, and to support
the authority, of their own little sovereign,
in order that he may be able to defend
their property, and to support their authority.
Civil government, so far as it is instituted for
the security of property, is, in reality, instituted
for the defence of the rich against the poor,
or of those who have some property against
those who have none at all.
The judicial authority of such a sovereign,
however, far from being a cause of expense,
was, for a long time, a source of revenue to
him. The persons who applied to him for
justice were always willing to pay for it, and
a present never failed to accompany a petition.
After the authority of the sovereign,
too, was thoroughly established, the person
found guilty, over and above the satisfaction
which he was obliged to make to the party,
was likewise forced to pay an amercement to
the sovereign. He had given trouble, he had
disturbed, he had broke the peace of his lord
the king, and for those offences an amercement
was thought due. In the Tartar governments
of Asia, in the governments of
Europe which were founded by the German
and Scythian nations who overturned the
Roman empire, the administration of justice
was a considerable source of revenue, both to
the sovereign, and to all the lesser chiefs or
lords who exercised under him any particular
jurisdiction, either over some particular tribe
or clan, or over some particular territory or
district. Originally, both the sovereign and
the inferior chiefs used in exercise this jurisdiction
in their own persons. Afterwards,
they universally found it convenient to delegate
it to some substitute, bailiff, or judge.
This substitute, however, was still obliged to
account to his principal or constituent for the
profits of the jurisdiction. Whoever reads the
instructions[47] which were given to the judges
of the circuit in the time of Henry II. will
see clearly that those judges were a sort of
itinerant factors, sent round the country for
the purpose of levying certain branches of the
king's revenue. In those days, the administration
of justice not only afforded a certain
revenue to the sovereign, but, to procure
this revenue, seems to have been one of the
principal advantages which he proposed to obtain
by the administration of justice.
This scheme of making the administration
of justice subservient to the purposes of revenue,
could scarce fail to be productive of several
very gross abuses. The person who applied
for justice with a large present in his
hand, was likely to get something more than
justice; while he who applied for it with a
small one was likely to get something less.
Justice, too, might frequently be delayed, in
order that this present might be repeated.
The amercement, besides, of the person complained
of, might frequently suggest a very
strong reason for finding him in the wrong,
even when he had not really been so. That
such abuses were far from being uncommon,
the ancient history of every country in Europe
bears witness.
When the sovereign or chief exercises his
judicial authority in his own person, how
much soever he might abuse it, it must have
been scarce possible to get any redress; because
there could seldom be any body powerful
enough to call him to account. When he
exercised it by a bailiff, indeed, redress might
sometimes be had. If it was for his own benefit
only, that the bailiff had been guilty of
an act of injustice, the sovereign himself might
not always be unwilling to punish him, or to
oblige him to repair the wrong. But if it
was for the benefit of his sovereign; if it was
in order to make court to the person who appointed
him, and who might prefer him, that
he had committed any act of oppression; redress
would, upon most occasions be as impossible
as if the sovereign had committed it
himself. In all barbarous governments, accordingly,
in all those ancient governments of
Europe in particular, which were founded
upon the ruins of the Roman empire, the administration
of justice appears for a long time
to have been extremely corrupt; far from being
quite equal and impartial, even under the
best monarchs, and altogether profligate under
the worst.
Among nations of shepherds, where the sovereign
or chief is only the greatest shepherd
or herdsman of the horde or clan, he is maintained
in the same manner as any of his vassals
or subjects, by the increase of his own
herds or flocks. Among those nations of husbandmen,
who are but just come out of the
shepherd state, and who are not much advanced
beyond that state, such as the Greek
tribes appear to have been about the time of
the Trojan war, and our German and Scythian
ancestors, when they first settled upon the
ruins of the western empire; the sovereign
or chief is, in the same manner, only the
greatest landlord of the country, and is maintained
in the same manner as any other landlord,
by a revenue derived from his own private
estate, or from what, in modern Europe,
was called the demesne of the crown. His
subjects, upon ordinary occasions, contribute
nothing to his support, except when, in order
to protect them from the oppression of some
of their fellow-subjects, they stand in need of
his authority. The presents which they make
him upon such occasions constitute the whole
ordinary revenue, the whole of the emoluments
which, except, perhaps, upon some very
extraordinary emergencies, he derives from
his dominion over them. When Agamemnon,
in Homer, offers to Achilles, for his friendship,
the sovereignty of seven Greek cities, the sole
advantage which he mentions as likely to be
derived from it was, that the people would
honour him with presents. As long as such
presents, as long as the emoluments of justice,
or what may be called the fees of court,
constituted, in this manner, the whole ordinary
revenue which the sovereign derived from
his sovereignty, it could not well be expected,
it could not even decently be proposed, that
he should give them up altogether. It might,
and it frequently was proposed, that he should
regulate and ascertain then. But after they
had been so regulated and ascertained, how
to hinder a person who was all-powerful from
extending them beyond those regulations, was
still very difficult, not to say impossible. During
the continuance of this state of things,
therefore, the corruption of justice, naturally
resulting from the arbitrary and uncertain nature
of those presents, scarce admitted of any
effectual remedy.
But when, from different causes, chiefly
from the continually increasing expense of
defending the nation against the invasion of
other nations, the private estate of the sovereign
had become altogether insufficient for
defraying the expense of the sovereignty;
and when it had become necessary that the
people should, for their own security, contribute
towards this expense by taxes of different
kinds; it seems to have been very
commonly stipulated, that no present for the
administration of justice should, under any
pretence, be accepted either by the sovereign,
or by his bailiffs and substitutes, the judges.
Those presents, it seems to have been supposed,
could more easily be abolished altogether,
than effectually regulated and ascertained.
Fixed salaries were appointed to the judges,
which were supposed to compensate to them
the loss of whatever might have been their
share of the ancient emoluments of justice;
as the taxes more than compensated to the
sovereign the loss of his. Justice was then
said to be administered gratis.
Justice, however, never was in reality administered
gratis in any country. Lawyers
and attorneys, at least, must always be paid
by the parties; and if they were not, they
would perform their duty still worse than
they actually perform it. The fees annually
paid to lawyers and attorneys, amount, in
every court, to a much greater sum than the
salaries of the judges. The circumstance of
those salaries being paid by the crown, can
nowhere much diminish the necessary expense
of a law-suit. But it was not so much to
diminish the expense, as to prevent the corruption
of justice, that the judges were prohibited
from receiving any present or fee from
the parties.
The office of judge is in itself so very honourable,
that men are willing to accept of it,
though accompanied with very small emoluments.
The inferior office of justice of
peace, though attended with a good deal of
trouble, and in most cases with no emoluments
at all, is an object of ambition to the
greater part of our country gentlemen. The
salaries of all the different judges, high and
low, together with the whole expense of the
administration and execution of justice, even
where it is not managed with very good
economy, makes, in any civilized country,
but a very inconsiderable part of the whole
expense of government.
The whole expense of justice, too, might
easily be defrayed by the fees of court; and,
without exposing the administration of justice
to any real hazard of corruption, the public
revenue might thus be entirely discharged
from a certain, though perhaps but a small
incumbrance. It is difficult to regulate the
fees of court effectually, where a person so
powerful as the sovereign is to share in them,
and to derive any considerable part of his revenue
from them. It is very easy, where the
judge is the principal person who can reap any
benefit from them. The law can very easily
oblige the judge to respect the regulation,
though it might not always be able to make
the sovereign respect it. Where the fees of
court are precisely regulated and ascertained;
where they are paid all at once, at a certain
period of every process, into the hands of a
cashier or receiver, to be by him distributed
in certain known proportions among the
different judges after the process is decided,
and not till it is decided; there seems to be
no more danger of corruption than where
such fees are prohibited altogether. Those
fees, without occasioning any considerable
increase in the expense of a law-suit, might
be rendered fully sufficient for defraying the
whole expense of justice. But not being
paid to the judges till the process was determined,
they might be some incitement to the
diligence of the court in examining and deciding
it. In courts which consisted of a
considerable number of judges, by proportioning
the share of each judge to the number
of hours and days which he had employed in
examining the process, either in the court, or
in a committee, by order of the court, those
fees might give some encouragement to the
diligence of each particular judge. Public
services are never better performed, than
when their reward comes only in consequence
of their being performed, and is proportioned
to the diligence employed in performing
them. In the different parliaments of
France, the fees of court (called epices and
vacations) constitute the far greater part of
the emoluments of the judges. After all
deductions are made, the neat salary paid by
the crown to a counsellor or judge in the
parliament of Thoulouse, in rank and dignity
the second parliament of the kingdom,
amounts only to 150 livres, about L.6. 11s.
sterling a-year. About seven years ago, that
sum was in the same place the ordinary yearly
wages of a common footman. The distribution
of these epices, too, is according to the
diligence of the judges. A diligent judge
gains a comfortable, though moderate revenue,
by his office; an idle one gets little
more than his salary. Those parliaments
are, perhaps, in many respects, not very convenient
courts of justice, but they have
never been accused; they seem never even to
have been suspected of corruption.
The fees of court seem originally to have
been the principal support of the different
courts of justice in England. Each court
endeavoured to draw to itself as much business
as it could, and was, upon that account,
willing to take cognizance of many suits
which were not originally intended to fall
under its jurisdiction. The court of king's
bench, instituted for the trial of criminal
causes only, took cognizance of civil suits;
the plaintiff pretending that the defendant, in
not doing him justice, had been guilty of
some trespass or misdemeanour. The court
of exchequer, instituted for the levying of the
king's revenue, and for enforcing the payment
of such debts only as were due to the
king, took cognizance of all other contract
debts; the plaintiff alleging that he could not
pay the king, because the defendant would
not pay him. In consequence of such fictions,
it came, in many cases, to depend altogether
upon the parties, before what court
they would choose to have their cause tried,
and each court endeavoured, by superior dispatch
and impartiality, to draw to itself as
many causes as it could. The present admirable
constitution of the courts of justice
in England was, perhaps, originally, in a
great measure, formed by this emulation,
which anciently took place between their respective
judges; each judge endeavouring to
give, in his own court, the speediest and
most effectual remedy which the law would
admit, for every sort of injustice. Originally,
the courts of law gave damages only
for breach of contract. The court of chancery,
as a court of conscience, first took upon
it to enforce the specific performance of
agreements. When the breach of contract
consisted in the non-payment of money, the
damage sustained could be compensated in
no other way than by ordering payment,
which was equivalent to a specific performance
of the agreement. In such cases,
therefore, the remedy of the courts of law
was sufficient. It was not so in others.
When the tenant sued his lord for having
unjustly outed him of his lease, the damages
which he recovered were by no means equivalent
to the possession of the land. Such
causes, therefore, for some time, went all to
the court of chancery, to the no small loss of
the courts of law. It was to draw back such
causes to themselves, that the courts of law
are said to have invented the artificial and
fictitious writ of ejectment, the most effectual
remedy for an unjust outer or dispossession
of land.
A stamp-duty upon the law proceedings
by each particular court, to be levied by that
court, and applied towards the maintenance
of the judges, and other officers belonging to
it, might in the same manner, afford a revenue
sufficient for defraying the expense of
the administration of justice, without bringing
any burden upon the general revenue of
the society. The judges, indeed, might in
this case, be under the temptation of multiplying
unnecessarily the proceedings upon
every cause, in order to increase, as much as
possible, the produce of such a stamp-duty.
It has been the custom in modern Europe to
regulate, upon most occasions, the payment
of the attorneys and clerks of court according
to the number of pages which they had
occasion to write; the court, however, requiring
that each page should contain so
many lines, and each line so many words.
In order to increase their payment, the attorneys
and clerks have contrived to multiply
words beyond all necessity, to the corruption
of the law language of, I believe, every court
of justice in Europe. A like temptation
might, perhaps, occasion a like corruption in
the form of law proceedings.
But whether the administration of justice
be so contrived as to defray its own expense,
or whether the judges be maintained by fixed
salaries paid to them from some other fund,
it does not seem necessary that the person or
persons entrusted with the executive power
should be charged with the management of
that fund, or with the payment of those salaries.
That fund might arise from the rent of
landed estates, the management of each
estate being entrusted to the particular court
which was to be maintained by it. That
fund might arise even from the interest of a
sum of money, the lending out of which
might, in the same manner, be entrusted to
the court which was to be maintained by it.
A part, though indeed but a small part of the
salary of the judges of the court of session
in Scotland, arises from the interest of a sum
of money. The necessary instability of such
a fund seems, however, to render it an improper
one for the maintenance of an institution
which ought to last for ever.
The separation of the judicial from the
executive power, seems originally to have
arisen from the increasing business of the
society, in consequence of its increasing improvement.
The administration of justice
became so laborious and so complicated a
duty, as to require the undivided attention of
the person to whom it was entrusted. The
person entrusted with the executive power,
not having leisure to attend to the decision
of private causes himself, a deputy was appointed
to decide them in his stead. In the
progress of the Roman greatness, the consul
was too much occupied with the political affairs
of the state, to attend to the administration
of justice. A prætor, therefore, was
appointed to administer it in his stead. In
the progress of the European monarchies,
which were founded upon the ruins of the
Roman empire, the sovereigns and the great
lords came universally to consider the administration
of justice as an office both too laborious
and too ignoble for them to execute
in their own persons. They universally,
therefore, discharged themselves of it, by appointing
a deputy, bailiff, or judge.
When the judicial is united to the executive
power, it is scarce possible that justice
should not frequently be sacrificed to what is
vulgarly called politics. The persons entrusted
with the great interests of the state
may even without any corrupt views, sometimes
imagine it necessary to sacrifice to those
interests the rights of a private man. But
upon the impartial administration of justice
depends the liberty of every individual, the
sense which he has of his own security. In
order to make every individual feel himself
perfectly secure in the possession of every
right which belongs to him, it is not only necessary
that the judicial should be separated
from the executive power, but that it should
be rendered as much as possible independent
of that power. The judge should not be
liable to be removed from his office according
to the caprice of that power. The regular
payment of his salary should not depend upon
the good will, or even upon the good economy
of that power.
The third and last duty of the sovereign or
commonwealth, is that of erecting and maintaining
those public institutions and those
public works, which though they may be in
the highest degree advantageous to a great
society, are, however, of such a nature, that
the profit could never repay the expense to
any individual, or small number of individuals;
and which it, therefore, cannot be
expected that any individual, or small number
of individuals, should erect or maintain.
The performance of this duty requires, too,
very different degrees of expense in the different
periods of society.
After the public institutions and public
works necessary for the defence of the society,
and for the administration of justice, both of
which have already been mentioned, the other
works and institutions of this kind are chiefly
for facilitating the commerce of the society,
and those for promoting the instruction of
the people. The institutions for instruction
are of two kinds: those for the education of
the youth, and those for the instruction of
people of all ages. The consideration of the
manner in which the expense of those different
sorts of public works and institutions
may be most properly defrayed will divide this
third part of the present chapter into three
different articles.
That the erections and maintenance of the
public works which facilitate the commerce
of any country, such as good roads, bridges,
navigable canals, harbours, &c. must require
very different degrees of expense in the different
periods of society, is evident without
any proof. The expense of making and
maintaining the public roads of any country
must evidently increase with the annual produce
of the land and labour of that country,
or with the quantity and weight of the goods
which it becomes necessary to fetch and carry
upon those roads. The strength of a bridge
must be suited to the number and weight of
the carriages which are likely to pass over it.
The depth and the supply of water for a navigable
canal must be proportional to the
number and tonnage of the lighters which
are likely to carry goods upon it; the extent
of a harbour, to the number of the shipping
which are likely to take shelter in it.
It does not seem necessary that the expense
of those public works should be defrayed
from that public revenue, as it is commonly
called, of which the collection and application
are in most countries, assigned to the
executive power. The greater part of such
public works may easily be so managed, as to
afford a particular revenue, sufficient for defraying
their own expense, without bringing
any burden upon the general revenue of the
society.
A highway, a bridge, a navigable canal, for
example, may, in most cases, be both made
and maintained by a small toll upon the carriages
which make use of them; a harbour,
by a moderate port-duty upon the tonnage of
the shipping which load or unload in it.
The coinage, another institution for facilitating
commerce, in many countries, not only
defrays its own expense, but affords a small
revenue or a seignorage to the sovereign.
The post-office, another institution for the same
purpose, over and above defraying its own
expense, affords, in almost all countries, a
very considerable revenue to the sovereign.
When the carriages which pass over a highway
or a bridge, and the lighters which sail
upon a navigable canal, pay toll in proportion
to their weight or their tonnage, they pay for
the maintenance of these public works exactly
in proportion to the wear and tear which they
occasion of them. It seems scarce possible
to invent a more equitable way of maintaining
such works. This tax or toll, too, though
it is advanced by the carrier, is finally paid
by the consumer, to whom it must always be
charged in the price of the goods. As the
expense of carriage, however, is very much
reduced by means of such public works, the
goods, notwithstanding the toll, come cheaper
to the consumer than they could otherwise
have done, their price not being so much raised
by the toll, as it is lowered by the cheapness
of the carriage. The person who finally
pays this tax, therefore, gains by the application
more than he loses by the payment of
it. His payment is exactly in proportion to
his gain. It is, in reality, no more than a
part of that gain which he is obliged to give
up, in order to get the rest. It seems impossible
to imagine a more equitable method
of raising a tax.
When the toll upon carriages of luxury,
upon coaches, post-chaises, &c. is made
somewhat higher in proportion to their
weight, than upon carriages of necessary use,
such as carts, waggons, &c. the indolence and
vanity of the rich is made to contribute, in a
very easy manner, to the relief of the poor,
by rendering cheaper the transportation of
heavy goods to all the different parts of the
country.
When high-roads, bridges, canals, &c. are
in this manner made and supported by the
commerce which is carried on by means of
them, they can be made only where that
commerce requires them, and, consequently,
where it is proper to make them, Their expense,
too, their grandeur and magnificence,
must be suited to what that commerce can
afford to pay. They must be made, consequently,
as it is proper to make them. A
magnificent high-road cannot be made through
a desert country, where there is little or no
commerce, or merely because it happens to
lead to the country villa of the intendant of
the province, or to that of some great lord,
to whom the intendant finds it convenient to
make his court. A great bridge cannot be
thrown over a river at a place where nobody
passes, or merely to embellish the view from
the windows of a neighbouring palace; things
which sometimes happen in countries, where
works of this kind are carried on by any other
revenue than that which they themselves are
capable of affording.
In several different parts of Europe, the
toll or lock-duty upon a canal is the property
of private persons, whose private interest
obliges them to keep up the canal. If it is
not kept in tolerable order, the navigation
necessarily ceases altogether, and, along with
it, the whole profit which they can make by
the tolls. If those tolls were put under the
the management of commissioners, who had
themselves no interest in them, they might
be less attentive to the maintenance of the
works which produced them. The canal of
Languedoc cost the king of France and the
province upwards of thirteen millions of livres,
which (at twenty-eight livres the mark of silver,
the value of French money in the end
of the last century) amounted to upwards of
nine hundred thousand pounds sterling.
When that great work was finished, the most
likely method, it was found, of keeping it in
constant repair, was to make a present of the
tolls to Riquet, the engineer who planned
and conducted the work. Those tolls constitute,
at present, a very large estate to the
different branches of the family of that gentleman,
who have, therefore, a great interest
to keep the work in constant repair. But had
those tolls been put under the management
of commissioners, who had no such interest,
they might perhaps, have been dissipated in
ornamental and unnecessary expenses, while
the most essential parts of the works were allowed
to go to ruin.
The tolls for the maintenance of a high-road
cannot, with any safety, be made the
property of private persons. A high-road,
though entirely neglected, does not become
altogether impassable, though a canal does.
The proprietors of the tolls upon a high-road,
therefore, might neglect altogether the repair
of the road, and yet continue to levy very
nearly the same tolls. It is proper, therefore,
that the tolls for the maintenance of such a
work should be put under the management
of commissioners or trustees.
In Great Britain, the abuses which the very
trustees have committed in the management
of those tolls, have, in many cases, been very
justly complained of. At many turnpikes,
it has been said, the money levied is more
than double of what is necessary for executing,
in the completest manner, the work,
which is often executed in a very slovenly
manner, and sometimes not executed at all.
The system of repairing the high-roads by
tolls of this kind, it must be observed, is not
of very long standing. We should not wonder,
therefore, if it has not yet been brought
that degree of perfection of which it seems
capable. If mean and improper persons are
frequently appointed trustees; and if proper
courts of inspection and account have not yet
been established for controlling their conduct,
and for reducing the tolls to what is barely
sufficient for executing the work to be done
by them; the recency of the institution both
accounts and apologizes for those defects, of
which, by the wisdom of parliament, the
greater part may, in due time, be gradually
remedied.
The money levied at the different turnpikes
in Great Britain, is supposed to exceed so
much what is necessary for repairing the
roads, that the savings which, with proper
economy, might be made from it, have been
considered, even by some ministers, as a very
great resource, which might, at some time or
another, be applied to the exigencies of the
state. Government, it has been said, by taking
the management of the turnpikes into its
own hands, and by employing the soldiers,
who would work for a very small addition to
their pay, could keep the roads in good order,
at a much less expense than it can be done by
trustees, who have no other workmen to employ,
but such as derive their whole subsistence
from their wages. A great revenue,
half a million, perhaps[48], it has been pretended,
might in this manner be gained, without
laying any new burden upon the people; and
the turnpike roads might be made to contribute
to the general expense of the state, in
the same manner as the post-office does at
present.
That a considerable revenue might be gained
in this manner, I have no doubt, though
probably not near so much as the projectors
of this plan have supposed. The plan itself,
however, seems liable to several very important
objections.
First, If the tolls which are levied at the
turnpikes should ever be considered as one of
the resources for supplying the exigencies of
the state, they would certainly be augmented
as those exigencies were supposed to require.
According to the policy of Great Britain,
therefore, they would probably be augmented
very fast. The facility with which a great
revenue could be drawn from them, would
probably encourage administration to recur
very frequently to this resource. Though it
may, perhaps, be more than doubtful, whether
half a million could by any economy be
saved out of the present tolls, it can scarcely
be doubted, but that a million might be saved
out of them, if they were doubled; and perhaps
two millions, if they were tripled[49]. This
great revenue, too, might be levied without
the appointment of a single new officer to collect
and receive it. But the turnpike tolls,
being continually augmented in this manner,
instead of facilitating the inland commerce of
the country, as at present, would soon become
a very great incumbrance upon it. The
expense of transporting all heavy goods from
one part of the country to another, would
soon be so much increased, the market for
all such goods, consequently, would soon be
so much narrowed, that their production
would be in a great measure discouraged,
and the most important branches of the domestic
industry of the country annihilated altogether.
Secondly, A tax upon carriages, in proportion
to their weight, though a very equal
tax when applied to the sole purpose of repairing
the roads, is a very unequal one when
applied to any other purpose, or to supply
the common exigencies of the state. When
it is applied to the sole purpose above mentioned,
each carriage is supposed to pay exactly
for the wear and tear which that carriage
occasions of the roads. But when it is applied
to any other purpose, each carriage is
supposed to pay for more than that wear and
tear, and contributes to the supply of some
other exigency of the state. But as the turnpike
toll raises the price of goods in proportion
to their weight and not to their value, it
is chiefly paid by the consumers of coarse
and bulky, not by those of precious and light
commodities. Whatever exigency of the
state, therefore, this tax might be intended
to supply, that exigency would be chiefly
supplied at the expense of the poor, not of
the rich; at the expense of those who are
least able to supply it, not of those who are
most able.
Thirdly, If government should at any time
neglect the reparation of the high-roads, it
would be still more difficult, than it is at present,
to compel the proper application of any
part of the turnpike tolls. A large revenue
might thus be levied upon the people, without
any part of it being applied to the only
purpose to which a revenue levied in this
manner ought ever to be applied. If the
meanness and poverty of the trustees of turnpike
roads render it sometimes difficult, at
present, to oblige them to repair their wrong;
their wealth and greatness would render it
ten times more so in the case which is here
supposed.
In France, the funds destined for the reparation
of the high-roads are under the immediate
direction of the executive power.
Those funds consist, partly in a certain number
of days labour, which the country people are
in most parts of Europe obliged to give to the
reparation of the highways; and partly in
such a portion of the general revenue of the
state as the king chooses to spare from his
other expenses.
By the ancient law of France, as well as
by that of most other parts of Europe, the
labour of the country people was under the
direction of a local or provincial magistracy,
which had no immediate dependency upon
the king's council. But, by the present
practice, both the labour of the country people,
and whatever other fund the king may
choose to assign for the reparation of the
high-roads in any particular province or generality,
are entirely under the management
of the intendant; an officer who is appointed
and removed by the king's council who receives
his orders from it, and is in constant
correspondence with it. In the progress of
despotism, the authority of the executive
power gradually absorbs that of every other
power in the state, and assumes to itself the
management of every branch of revenue
which is destined for any public purpose. In
France, however, the great post-roads, the
roads which make the communication between
the principal towns of the kingdom, are in
general kept in good order; and, in some
provinces, are even a good deal superior to
the greater part of the turnpike roads of
England. But what we call the cross roads,
that is, the far greater part of the roads in
the country, are entirely neglected, and are
in many places absolutely impassable for any
heavy carriage. In some places it is even
dangerous to travel on horseback, and mules
are the only conveyance which can safely be
trusted. The proud minister of an ostentatious
court, may frequently take pleasure in executing
a work of splendour and magnificence,
such as a great highway, which is frequently
seen by the principal nobility, whose
applauses not only flatter his vanity, but even
contribute to support his interest at court.
But to execute a great number of little works,
in which nothing that can be done can make
any great appearance, or excite the smallest
degree of admiration in any traveller, and
which, in short, have nothing to recommend
them but their extreme utility, is a business
which appears, in every respect, too mean
and paltry to merit the attention of so great a
magistrate. Under such an administration,
therefore, such works are almost always entirely
neglected.
In China, and in several other governments
of Asia, the executive power charges itself
both with the reparation of the high-roads,
and with the maintenance of the navigable
canals. In the instructions which are given
to the governor of each province, those objects,
it is said, are constantly recommended to
him, and the judgment which the court forms
of his conduct is very much regulated by the
attention which he appears to have paid to this
part of his instructions. This branch of
public police, accordingly, is said to be very
much attended to in all those countries, but
particularly in China, where the high-roads,
and still more the navigable canals, it is pretended,
exceed very much every thing of the
same kind which is known in Europe. The
accounts of those works, however, which have
been transmitted to Europe, have generally
been drawn up by weak and wondering travellers;
frequently by stupid and lying missionaries.
If they had been examined by
more intelligent eyes, and if the accounts of
them had been reported by more faithful
witnesses, they would not, perhaps, appear to
be so wonderful. The account which Bernier
gives of some works of this kind in
Indostan, falls very short of what had been
reported of them by other travellers, more
disposed to the marvellous than he was. It
may too, perhaps, be in those countries, as it
is in France, where the great roads, the great
communications, which are likely to be the
subjects of conversation at the court and in
the capital, are attended to, and all the rest
neglected. In China, besides, in Indostan,
and in several other governments of Asia,
the revenue of the sovereign arises almost altogether
from a land tax or land rent, which
rises or falls with the rise and fall of the
annual produce of the land. The great interest
of the sovereign, therefore, his revenue,
is in such countries necessarily and immediately
connected with the cultivation of the
land, with the greatness of its produce, and
with the value of its produce. But in order
to render that produce both as great and as
valuable as possible, it is necessary to procure
to it as extensive a market as possible, and
consequently to establish the freest, the
easiest, and the least expensive communication
between all the different parts of the
country; which can be done only by means
of the best roads and the best navigable canals.
But the revenue of the sovereign does
not, in any part of Europe, arise chiefly from
a land tax or land rent. In all the great
kingdoms of Europe, perhaps, the greater
part of it may ultimately depend upon the
produce of the land: but that dependency is
neither so immediate nor so evident. In
Europe, therefore, the sovereign does not feel
himself so directly called upon to promote
the increase, both in quantity and value of the
produce of the land, or, by maintaining good
roads and canals, to provide the most extensive
market for that produce. Though it
should be true, therefore, what I apprehend
is not a little doubtful, that in some parts of
Asia this department of the public police is
very properly managed by the executive
power, there is not the least probability that,
during the present state of things, it could be
tolerably managed by that power in any part
of Europe.
Even those public works, which are of
such a nature that they cannot afford any revenue
for maintaining themselves, but of
which the conveniency is nearly confined to
some particular place or district, are always
better maintained by a local or provincial revenue,
under the management of a local and
provincial administration, than by the general
revenue of the state, of which the executive
power must always have the management.
Were the streets of London to be lighted and
paved at the expense of the treasury, is there
any probability that they would be so well
lighted and paved as they are at present, or
even at so small an expense? The expense,
besides, instead of being raised by a local tax
upon the inhabitants of each particular street,
parish, or district in London, would, in this
case, be defrayed out of the general revenue
of the state, and would consequently be raised
by a tax upon all the inhabitants of the
kingdom, of whom the greater part derive no
sort of benefit from the lighting and paving of
the streets of London.
The abuses which sometimes creep into the
local and provincial administration of a local
and provincial revenue, how enormous soever
they may appear, are in reality, however, almost
always very trifling in comparison of
those which commonly take place in the administration
and expenditure of the revenue
of a great empire. They are, besides, much
more easily corrected. Under the local or
provincial administration of the justices of
the peace in Great Britain, the six days labour
which the country people are obliged to
give to the reparation of the highways, is not
always, perhaps, very judiciously applied, but
it is scarce ever exacted with any circumstance
of cruelty or oppression. In France,
under the administration of the intendants,
the application is not always more judicious,
and the exaction is frequently the most cruel
and oppressive. Such corvees, as they are
called, make one of the principal instruments
of tyranny by which these officers chastise any
parish or communeaute, which has had the
misfortune to fall under their displeasure.
The object of the public works and institutions
above mentioned, is to facilitate commerce
in general. But in order to facilitate
some particular branches of it, particular institutions
are necessary, which again require
a particular and extraordinary expense.
Some particular branches of commerce
which are carried on with barbarous and uncivilized
nations, require extraordinary protection.
An ordinary store or counting-house
could give little security to the goods
of the merchants who trade to the western
coast of Africa. To defend them from the
barbarous natives, it is necessary that the
place where they are deposited should be in
same measure fortified. The disorders in
the government of Indostan have been supposed
to render a like precaution necessary,
even among that mild and gentle people;
and it was under pretence of securing their
persons and property from violence, that both
the English and French East India companies
were allowed to erect the first forts
which they possessed in that country. Among
other nations, whose vigorous government
will suffer no strangers to possess any fortified
place within their territory, it may be necessary
to maintain some ambassador, minister,
or consul, who may both decide,
according to their own customs, the differences
arising among his own countrymen;
and, in their disputes with the natives, may
by means of his public character, interfere
with more authority and afford them a more
powerful protection than they could expect
from any private man. The interests of
commerce have frequently made it necessary
to maintain ministers in foreign countries,
where the purposes either of war or alliance
would not have required any. The commerce
of the Turkey company first occasioned the
establishment of an ordinary ambassador at
Constantinople. The first English embassies
to Russia arose altogether from commercial
interests. The constant interference with
those interests, necessarily occasioned between
the subjects of the different states of Europe,
has probably introduced the custom of keeping,
in all neighbouring countries, ambassadors
or ministers constantly resident, even in
the time of peace. This custom, unknown to
ancient times, seems not to be older than the
end of the fifteenth, or beginning of the sixteenth
century; that is, than the time when
commerce first began to extend itself to the
greater part of the nations of Europe, and
when they first began to attend to its interests.
It seems not unreasonable, that the extraordinary
expense which the protection of any
particular branch of commerce may occasion,
should be defrayed by a moderate tax upon
that particular branch; by a moderate fine,
for example, to be paid by the traders when
they first enter into it; or, what is more
equal, by a particular duty of so much per
cent. upon the goods which they either import
into, or export out of, the particular
countries with which it is carried on. The
protection of trade, in general, from pirates
and freebooters, is said to have given occasion
to the first institution of the duties of customs.
But, if it was thought reasonable to
lay a general tax upon trade, in order to defray
the expense of protecting trade in general,
it should seem equally reasonable to lay
a particular tax upon a particular branch of
trade, in order to defray the extraordinary
expense of protecting that branch.
The protection of trade, in general, has
always been considered as essential to the
defence of the commonwealth, and, upon that
account, a necessary part of the duty of the
executive power. The collection and application
of the general duties of customs,
therefore, have always been left to that power.
But the protection of any particular branch
of trade is a part of the general protection of
trade; a part, therefore, of the duty of that
power; and if nations always acted consistently,
the particular duties levied for the
purposes of such particular protection, should
always have been left equally to its disposal.
But in this respect, as well as in many others,
nations have not always acted consistently;
and in the greater part of the commercial
states of Europe, particular companies of
merchants have had the address to persuade
the legislature to entrust to them the performance
of this part of the duty of the sovereign,
together with all the powers which are
necessarily connected with it.
These companies, though they may, perhaps,
have been useful for the first introduction
of some branches of commerce, by
making, at their own expense, an experiment
which the state might not think it prudent to
make, have in the long-run proved, universally,
either burdensome or useless, and have
either mismanaged or confined the trade.
When those companies do not trade upon a
joint stock, but are obliged to admit any person,
properly qualified, upon paying a certain
fine, and agreeing to submit to the regulations
of the company, each member trading upon
his own stock, and at his own risk, they are
called regulated companies. When they trade
upon a joint stock, each member sharing in
the common profit or loss, in proportion to his
share in this stock, they are called joint-stock
companies. Such companies, whether regulated
or joint-stock, sometimes have, and sometimes
have not, exclusive privileges.
Regulated companies resemble, in every respect,
the corporation of trades, so common in
the cities and towns of all the different countries
of Europe; and are a sort of enlarged
monopolies of the same kind. As no inhabitant
of a town can exercise an incorporated
trade, without first obtaining his freedom in
the incorporation, so, in most cases, no subject
of the state can lawfully carry on any branch
of foreign trade, for which a regulated company
is established, without first becoming a
member of that company. The monopoly is
more or less strict, according as the terms of
admission are more or less difficult, and according
as the directors of the company have
more or less authority, or have it more or less
in their power to manage in such a manner as
to confine the greater part of the trade to themselves
and their particular friends. In the
most ancient regulated companies, the privileges
of apprenticeship were the same as in
other corporations, and entitled the person
who had served his time to a member of the
company, to become himself a member, either
without paying any fine, or upon paying a
much smaller one than what was exacted of
other people. The usual corporation spirit,
wherever the law does not restrain it, prevails
in all regulated companies. When they have
been allowed to act according to their natural
genius, they have always, in order to confine
the competition to as small a number of persons
as possible, endeavoured to subject the
trade to many burdensome regulations. When
the law has restrained them from doing this,
they have become altogether useless and insignificant.
The regulated companies for foreign commerce
which at present subsist in Great Britain,
are the ancient merchant-adventurers
company, now commonly called the Hamburgh
company, the Russia company, the
Eastland company, the Turkey company, and
the African company.
The terms of admission into the Hamburgh
company are now said to be quite easy; and
the directors either have it not in their power
to subject the trade to any troublesome restraint
or regulations, or, at least, have not of
late exercised that power. It has not always
been so. About the middle of the last century,
the fine for admission was fifty, and at
one time one hundred pounds, and the conduct
of the company was said to be extremely
oppressive. In 1643, in 1645, and in 1661,
the clothiers and free traders of the west of
England complained of them to parliament,
as of monopolists, who confined the trade,
and oppressed the manufactures of the country.
Though those complaints produced no
act of parliament, they had probably intimidated
the company so far, as to oblige them to
reform their conduct. Since that time, at
least, there have been no complaints against
them. By the 10th and 11th of William III.
c. 6, the fine for admission into the Russia
company was reduced to five pounds; and by
the 25th of Charles II. c. 7, that for admission
into the Eastland company to forty shillings;
while, at the same time, Sweden, Denmark,
and Norway, all the countries on the
north side of the Baltic, were exempted from
their exclusive charter. The conduct of those
companies had probably given occasion to those
two acts of parliament. Before that time,
Sir Josiah Child had represented both these
and the Hamburgh company as extremely oppressive,
and imputed to their bad management
the low state of the trade, which we at
that time carried on to the countries comprehended
within their respective charters. But
though such companies may not, in the present
times, be very oppressive, they are certainly
altogether useless. To be merely useless,
indeed, is perhaps, the highest eulogy
which can ever justly be bestowed upon a regulated
company; and all the three companies
above mentioned seem, in their present
state, to deserve this eulogy.
The fine for admission into the Turkey
company was formerly twenty-five pounds
for all persons under twenty-six years of
age, and fifty pounds for all persons above
that age. Nobody but mere merchants could
be admitted; a restriction which excluded
all shop-keepers and retailers. By a bye-law,
no British manufactures could be exported
to Turkey but in the general ships
of the company; and as those ships sailed
always from the port of London, this
restriction confined the trade to that expensive
port, and the traders in those who lived in
London and in its neighbourhood. By another
bye-law, no person living within twenty
miles of London, and not free of the city
could be admitted a member; another restriction
which, joined to the foregoing, necessarily
excluded all but the freemen of London.
As the time for the loading and sailing of
those general ships depended altogether upon
the directors, they could easily fill them with
their own goods, and those of their particular
friends, to the exclusion of others, who, they
might pretend, had made their proposals too
late. In this state of things, therefore, this
company was, in every respect, a strict and
oppressive monopoly. Those abuses gave occasion
to the act of the 26th of George II. c.
18, reducing the fine for admission to twenty
pounds for all persons, without any distinction
of ages, or any restriction, either to mere merchants,
or to the freemen of London; and
granting to all such persons the liberty of exporting,
from all the ports of Great Britain,
to any port in Turkey, all British goods, of
which the exportation was not prohibited, upon
paying both the general duties of customs,
and the particular duties assessed for defraying
the necessary expenses of the company;
and submitting, at the same time, to the lawful
authority of the British ambassador and
consuls resident in Turkey, and to the bye-laws
of the company duly enacted. To prevent
any oppression by those bye-laws, it was
by the same act ordained, that if any seven
members of the company conceived themselves
aggrieved by any bye-law which should be
enacted after the passing of this act, they might
appeal to the board of trade and plantations
(to the authority of which a committee of the
privy council has now succeeded), provided
such appeal was brought within twelve months
after the bye-law was enacted; and that, if
any seven members conceived themselves aggrieved
by any bye-law which had been enacted
before the passing of this act, they might
bring a like appeal, provided it was within
twelve months after the day on which this act
was to take place. The experience of one
year, however, may not always be sufficient to
discover to all the members of a great company
the pernicious tendency of a particular
bye-law; and if several of them should afterwards
discover it, neither the board of trade,
nor the committee of council, can afford them
any redress. The object, besides, of the greater
part of the bye-laws of all regulated companies,
as well as of all other corporations, is
not so much to oppress those who are already
members, as to discourage others from becoming
so; which may be done, not only by a
high fine, but by many other contrivances.
The constant view of such companies is always
to raise the rate of their own profit as
high as they can; to keep the market, both
for the goods which they export, and for those
which they import, as much understocked as
they can; which can be done only by restraining
the competition, or by discouraging new
adventurers from entering into the trade. A
fine, even of twenty pounds, besides, though
it may not, perhaps, be sufficient to discourage
any man from entering into the Turkey
trade, with an intention to continue in it, may
be enough to discourage a speculative merchant
from hazarding a single adventure in it.
In all trades, the regular established traders,
even though not incorporated, naturally combine
to raise profits, which are noway so likely
to be kept, at all times, down to their proper
level, as by the occasional competition of
speculative adventurers. The Turkey trade,
though in some measure laid open by this act
of parliament, is still considered by many people
as very far from being altogether free.
The Turkey company contribute to maintain
an ambassador and two or three consuls, who,
like other public ministers, ought to be maintained
altogether by the state, and the trade
laid open to all his majesty's subjects. The
different taxes levied by the company, for this
and other corporation purposes, might afford
a revenue much more than sufficient to enable
a state to maintain such ministers.
Regulated companies, it was observed by
Sir Josiah Child, though they had frequently
supported public ministers, had never maintained
any forts or garrisons in the countries
to which they traded; whereas joint-stock
companies frequently had. And, in reality,
the former seem to be much more unfit for
this sort of service than the latter. First, the
directors of a regulated company have no particular
interest in the prosperity of the general
trade of the company, for the sake of which
such forts and garrisons are maintained. The
decay of that general trade may even frequently
contribute to the advantage of their own
private trade; as, by diminishing the number
of their competitors, it may enable them both
to buy cheaper, and to sell dearer. The directors
of a joint-stock company, on the contrary,
having only their share in the profits
which are made upon the common stock committed
to their management, have no private
trade of their own, of which the interest can
be separated from that of the general trade of
the company. Their private interest is connected
with the prosperity of the general trade
of the company, and with the maintenance of
the forts and garrisons which are necessary for
its defence. They are more likely, therefore,
to have that continual and careful attention
which that maintenance necessarily requires.
Secondly, The directors of a joint-stock company
have always the management of a large
capital, the joint stock of the company, a
part of which they may frequently employ,
with propriety, in building, repairing, and
maintaining such necessary forts and garrisons.
But the directors of a regulated company,
having the management of no common
capital, have no other fund to employ in this
way, but the casual revenue arising from the
admission fines, and from the corporation duties
imposed upon the trade of the company.
Though they had the same interest, therefore,
to attend to the maintenance of such forts and
garrisons, they can seldom have the same ability
to render that attention effectual. The
maintenance of a public minister, requiring
scarce any attention, and but a moderate and
limited expense, is a business much more suitable
both to the temper and abilities of a regulated
company.
Long after the time of Sir Josiah Child,
however, in 1750, a regulated company was
established, the present company of merchants
trading to Africa; which was expressly charged
at first with the maintenance of all the British
forts and garrisons that lie between Cape
Blanc and the Cape of Good Hope, and afterwards
with that of those only which lie between
Cape Rouge and the Cape of Good
Hope. The act which establishes this company
(the 23d of George II. c. 31), seems to
have had two distinct objects in view; first,
to restrain effectually the oppressive and monopolizing
spirit which is natural to the directors
of a regulated company; and, secondly,
to force them, as much as possible, to give
an attention, which is not natural to them,
towards the maintenance of forts and garrisons.
For the first of these purposes, the fine for
admission is limited to forty shillings. The
company is prohibited from trading in their
corporate capacity, or upon a joint stock; from
borrowing money upon common seal, or from
laying any restraints upon the trade, which
may be carried on freely from all places, and
by all persons being British subjects, and paying
the fine. The government is in a committee
of nine persons, who meet at London, but
who are chosen annually by the freemen of
the company at London, Bristol, and Liverpool;
three from each place. No committee-man
can be continued in office for more than
three years together. Any committee-man
might be removed by the board of trade and
plantations, now by a committee of council, after
being heard in his own defence. The
committee are forbid to export negroes from
Africa, or to import any African goods into
Great Britain. But as they are charged with
the maintenance of forts and garrisons, they
may, for that purpose export from Great Britain
to Africa goods and stores of different
kinds. Out of the moneys which they shall
receive from the company, they are allowed a
sum, not exceeding eight hundred pounds, for
the salaries of their clerks and agents at London,
Bristol, and Liverpool, the house-rent of
their offices at London, and all other expenses
of management, commission, and agency, in
England. What remains of this sum, after
defraying these different expenses, they may
divide among themselves, as compensation for
their trouble, in what manner they think proper.
By this constitution, it might have been
expected, that the spirit of monopoly would
have been effectually restrained, and the first
of these purposes sufficiently answered. It
would seem, however, that it had not. Though
by the 4th of George III. c. 20, the fort of
Senegal, with all its dependencies, had been
invested in the company of merchants trading
to Africa, yet, in the year following (by the
5th of George III. c. 44), not only Senegal
and its dependencies, but the whole coast,
from the port of Sallee, in South Barbary, to
Cape Rouge, was exempted from the jurisdiction
of that company, was vested in the crown,
and the trade to it declared free to all his majesty's
subjects. The company had been suspected
of restraining the trade and of establishing
some sort of improper monopoly. It
is not, however, very easy to conceive how,
under the regulations of the 23d George II.
they could do so. In the printed debates of
the house of commons, not always the most
authentic records of truth, I observe, however,
that they have been accused of this.
The members of the committee of nine being
all merchants, and the governors and factors
in their different forts and settlements being
all dependent upon them, it is not unlikely
that the latter might have given peculiar attention
to the consignments and commissions
of the former, which would establish a real
monopoly.
For the second of these purposes, the maintenance
of the forts and garrisons, an annual
sum has been allotted to them by parliament,
generally about L.13,000. For the proper
application of this sum, the committee is
obliged to account annually to the cursitor
baron of exchequer; which account is afterwards
to be laid before parliament. But parliament,
which gives so little attention to the
application of millions, is not likely to give
much to that of L.13,000 a-year; and the
cursitor baron of exchequer, from his profession
and education, is not likely to be profoundly
skilled in the proper expense of forts
and garrisons. The captains of his majesty's
navy, indeed, or any other commissioned officers,
appointed by the board of admiralty,
may inquire into the condition of the forts and
garrisons, and report their observations to that
board. But that board seems to have no direct
jurisdiction over the committee, nor any
authority to correct those whose conduct it
may thus inquire into; and the captains of
his majesty's navy, besides, are not supposed
to be always deeply learned in the science of
fortification. Removal from an office, which
can be enjoyed only for the term of three
years, and of which the lawful emoluments,
even during that term, are so very small,
seems to be the utmost punishment to which
any committee-man is liable, for any fault,
except direct malversation, or embezzlement,
either of the public money, or of that of the
company; and the fear of the punishment can
never be a motive of sufficient weight to force
a continual and careful attention to a business
to which he has no other interest to attend.
The committee are accused of having
sent out bricks and stones from England for
the reparation of Cape Coast Castle, on the
coast of Guinea; a business for which parliament
had several times granted an extraordinary
sum of money. These bricks and stones,
too, which had thus been sent upon so long a
voyage, were said to have been of so bad a
quality, that it was necessary to rebuild, from
the foundation, the walls which had been repaired
with them. The forts and garrisons
which lie north of Cape Rouge, are not only
maintained at the expense of the state, but are
under the immediate government of the executive
power; and why those which lie south
of that cape, and which, too, are, in part at
least, maintained at the expense of the state,
should be under a different government, it
seems not very easy even to imagine a good
reason. The protection of the Mediterranean
trade was the original purpose or pretence of
the garrisons of Gibraltar and Minorca; and
the maintenance and government of those garrisons
have always been, very properly, committed,
not to the Turkey company, but to
the executive power. In the extent of its dominion
consists, in a great measure, the pride
and dignity of that power; and it is not very
likely to fail in attention to what is necessary
for the defence of that dominion. The garrisons
at Gibraltar and Minorca, accordingly,
have never been neglected. Though Minorca
has been twice taken, and is now probably
lost for ever, that disaster has never been imputed
to any neglect in the executive power.
I would not, however, be understood to insinuate,
that either of those expensive garrisons
was ever, even in the smallest degree, necessary
for the purpose for which they were originally
dismembered from the Spanish monarchy.
That dismemberment, perhaps, never
served any other real purpose than to alienate
from England her natural ally the king of
Spain, and to unite the two principal branches
of the house of Bourbon in a much stricter
and more permanent alliance than the ties of
blood could ever have united them.
Joint-stock companies, established either by
royal charter, or by act of parliament, are different
in several respects, not only from regulated
companies, but from private copartneries.
First, In a private copartnery, no partner
without the consent of the company, can
transfer his share to another person, or introduce
a new member into the company. Each
member, however, may, upon proper warning,
withdraw from the copartnery, and demand
payment from them of his share of the common
stock. In a joint-stock company, on
the contrary, no member can demand payment
of his share from the company; but
each member can, without their consent,
transfer his share to another person, and
thereby introduce a new member. The value
of a share in a joint stock is always the
price which it will bring in the market; and
this may be either greater or less in any proportion,
than the sum which its owner stands
credited for in the stock of the company.
Secondly, In a private copartnery, each
partner is bound for the debts contracted by
the company, to the whole extent of his fortune.
In a joint-stock company, on the contrary,
each partner is bound only to the extent
of his share.
The trade of a joint-stock company is always
managed by a court of directors. This
court, indeed, is frequently subject, in many
respects, to the control of a general court of
proprietors. But the greater part of these
proprietors seldom pretend to understand any
thing of the business of the company; and
when the spirit of faction happens not to prevail
among them, give themselves no trouble
about it, but receive contentedly such half-yearly
or yearly dividend as the directors
think proper to make to them. This total
exemption from trouble and from risk, beyond
a limited sum, encourages many people
to become adventurers in joint-stock companies,
who would, upon no account, hazard
their fortunes in any private copartnery.
Such companies, therefore, commonly draw
to themselves much greater stocks, than any
private copartnery can boast of. The trading
stock of the South Sea company at one time
amounted to upwards of thirty-three millions
eight hundred thousand pounds. The divided
capital of the Bank of England amounts,
at present, to ten millions seven hundred
and eighty thousand pounds. The directors
of such companies, however, being the managers
rather of other people's money than of
their own, it cannot well be expected that
they should watch over it with the same anxious
vigilance with which the partners in a
private copartnery frequently watch over their
own. Like the stewards of a rich man, they
are apt to consider attention to small matters
as not for their master's honour, and very
easily give themselves a dispensation from
having it. Negligence and profusion, therefore,
must always prevail, more or less, in
the management of the affairs of such a company.
It is upon this account, that joint-stock
companies for foreign trade have seldom
been able to maintain the competition against
private adventurers. They have, accordingly,
very seldom succeeded without an exclusive
privilege; and frequently have not succeeded
with one. Without an exclusive privilege,
they have commonly mismanaged the
trade. With an exclusive privilege, they
have both mismanaged and confined it.
The Royal African company, the predecessors
of the present African company, had
an exclusive privilege by charter; but as that
charter had not been confirmed by act of parliament,
the trade, in consequence of the declaration
of rights, was, soon after the Revolution,
laid open to all his majesty's subjects.
The Hudson's Bay company are, as to their
legal rights, in the same situation as the
Royal African company. Their exclusive
charter has not been confirmed by act of parliament.
The South Sea company, as long
as they continued to be a trading company,
had an exclusive privilege confirmed by act
of parliament; as have likewise the present
united company of merchants trading to the
East Indies.
The Royal African company soon found
that they could not maintain the competition
against private adventurers, whom, notwithstanding
the declaration of rights, they continued
for some time to call interlopers, and
to persecute as such. In 1698, however, the
private adventurers were subjected to a duty
of ten per cent. upon almost all the different
branches of their trade, to be employed by
the company in the maintenance of their forts
and garrisons. But, notwithstanding this
heavy tax, the company were still unable to
maintain the competition. Their stock and
credit gradually declined. In 1712, their
debts had become so great, that a particular
act of parliament was thought necessary, both
for their security and for that of their creditors.
It was enacted, that the resolution of
two-thirds of these creditors in number and
value should bind the rest, both with regard
to the time which should be allowed to the
company for the payment of their debts, and
with regard to any other agreement which it
might be thought proper to make with them
concerning those debts. In 1730, their affairs
were in so great disorder, that they were altogether
incapable of maintaining their forts
and garrisons, the sole purpose and pretext
of their institution. From that year till their
final dissolution, the parliament judged it necessary
to allow the annual sum of ten thousand
pounds for that purpose. In 1732, after
having been for many years losers by the trade
of carrying negroes to the West Indies, they at
last resolved to give it up altogether; to sell
to the private traders to America the negroes
which they purchased upon the coast; and to
employ their servants in a trade to the inland
parts of Africa for gold dust, elephants teeth,
dyeing drugs, &c. But their success in this
more confined trade was not greater than in
their former extensive one. Their affairs
continued to go gradually to decline, till at
last, being in every respect a bankrupt company,
they were dissolved by act of parliament,
and their forts and garrisons vested in
the present regulated company of merchants
trading to Africa. Before the erection of
the Royal African company, there had been
three other joint-stock companies successively
established, one after another, for the African
trade. They were all equally unsuccessful.
They all, however, had exclusive charters,
which, though not confirmed by act of parliament,
were in those days supposed to convey
a real exclusive privilege.
The Hudson's Bay company, before their
misfortunes in the late war, had been much
more fortunate than the Royal African company.
Their necessary expense is much smaller.
The whole number of people whom they
maintain in their different settlements and habitations,
which they have honoured with the
name of forts, is said not to exceed a hundred
and twenty persons. This number, however,
is sufficient to prepare beforehand the
cargo of furs and other goods necessary for
loading their ships, which, on account of the
ice, can seldom remain above six or eight
weeks in those seas. This advantage of having
a cargo ready prepared, could not, for several
years, be acquired by private adventurers;
and without it there seems to be no possibility
of trading to Hudson's Bay. The
moderate capital of the company, which, it is
said, does not exceed one hundred and ten
thousand pounds, may, besides, be sufficient
to enable them to engross the whole, or almost
the whole trade and surplus produce, of the
miserable though extensive country comprehended
within their charter. No private adventurers,
accordingly, have ever attempted
to trade to that country in competition with
them. This company, therefore, have always
enjoyed an exclusive trade, in fact, though
they may have no right to it in law. Over
and above all this, the moderate capital of this
company is said to be divided among a very
small number of proprietors. But a joint-stock
company, consisting of a small number
of proprietors, with a moderate capital, approaches
very nearly to the nature of a private
copartnery, and may be capable of nearly
the same degree of vigilance and attention.
It is not to be wondered at, therefore, if, in
consequence of these different advantages, the
Hudson's Bay company had, before the late
war, been able to carry on their trade with a
considerable degree of success. It does not
seem probable, however, that their profits ever
approached to what the late Mr Dobbs imagined
them. A much more sober and judicious
writer, Mr Anderson, author of the Historical
and Chronological Deduction of Commerce,
very justly observes, that upon examining
the accounts which Mr Dobbs himself
has given for several years together, of their
exports and imports, and upon making proper
allowances for their extraordinary risk and
expense, it does not appear that their profits
deserve to be envied, or that they can much,
if at all, exceed the ordinary profits of trade.
The South Sea company never had any forts
or garrisons to maintain, and therefore were
entirely exempted from one great expense, to
which other joint-stock companies for foreign
trade are subject; but they had an immense
capital divided among an immense number of
proprietors. It was naturally to be expected,
therefore, that folly, negligence, and profusion,
should prevail in the whole management
of their affairs. The knavery and extravagance
of their stock-jobbing projects are sufficiently
known, and the explication of them
would be foreign to the present subject. Their
mercantile projects were not much better conducted.
The first trade which they engaged
in, was that of supplying the Spanish West
Indies with negroes, of which (in consequence
of what was called the Assiento Contract granted
them by the treaty of Utrecht) they had
the exclusive privilege. But as it was not
expected that much profit could be made by
this trade, both the Portuguese and French
companies, who had enjoyed it upon the same
terms before them, having been ruined by it,
they were allowed, as compensation, to send
annually a ship of a certain burden, to trade
directly to the Spanish West Indies. Of the
ten voyages which this annual ship was allowed
to make, they are said to have gained considerably
by one, that of the Royal Caroline, in
1731; and to have been losers, more or less,
by almost all the rest. Their ill success was
imputed, by their factors and agents, to the
extortion and oppression of the Spanish government;
but was, perhaps, principally owing
to the profusion and depredations of those very
factors and agents; some of whom are said to
have acquired great fortunes, even in one year.
In 1734, the company petitioned the king, that
they might be allowed to dispose of the trade
and tonnage of their annual ship, on account
of the little profit which they made by it, and
to accept of such equivalent as they could obtain
from the king of Spain.
In 1724, this company had undertaken the
whale fishery. Of this, indeed, they had no
monopoly; but as long as they carried it on,
no other British subjects appear to have engaged
in it. Of the eight voyages which their
ships made to Greenland, they were gainers
by one, and losers by all the rest. After their
eighth and last voyage, when they had sold
their ships, stores, and utensils, they found
that their whole loss upon this branch, capital
and interest included, amounted to upwards
of two hundred and thirty-seven thousand
pounds.
In 1722, this company petitioned the parliament
to be allowed to divide their immense
capital of more than thirty-three millions eight
hundred thousand pounds, the whole of which
been lent to government, into two equal
parts; the one half, or upwards of sixteen
millions nine hundred thousand pounds, to be
put upon the same footing with other government
annuities, and not to be subject to the
debts contracted, or losses incurred, by the
directors of the company, in the prosecution
of their mercantile projects; the other half to
remain as before, a trading stock, and to be
subject to those debts and losses. The petition
was too reasonable not to be granted.
In 1733, they again petitioned the parliament,
that three-fourths of their trading stock might
be turned into annuity stock, and only one-fourth
remain as trading stock, or exposed to
the hazards arising from the bad management
of their directors. Both their annuity and
trading stocks had, by this time, been reduced
more than two millions each, by several different
payments from government; so that this
fourth amounted only to L.3,662,784 : 8 : 6.
In 1748, all the demands of the company upon
the king of Spain, in consequence of the
assiento contract, were, by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle,
given up for what was supposed
an equivalent. An end was put to their trade
with the Spanish West Indies; the remainder
of their trading stock was turned into an annuity
stock; and the company ceased, in every
respect, to be a trading company.
It ought to be observed, that in the trade
which the South Sea company carried on by
means of their annual ship, the only trade by
which it ever was expected that they could
make any considerable profit, they were not
without competitors, either in the foreign or
in the home market. At Carthagena, Porto
Bello, and La Vera Cruz, they had to encounter
the competition of the Spanish merchants,
who brought from Cadiz to those markets
European goods, of the same kind with
the outward cargo of their ship; and in England
they had to encounter that of the English
merchants, who imported from Cadiz
goods of the Spanish West Indies, of the same
kind with the inward cargo. The goods, both
of the Spanish and English merchants, indeed,
were, perhaps, subject to higher duties. But
the loss occasioned by the negligence, profusion,
and malversation of the servants of the
company, had probably been a tax much heavier
than all those duties. That a joint-stock
company should be able to carry on successfully
any branch of foreign trade, when private
adventurers can come into any sort of
open and fair competition with them, seems
contrary to all experience.
The old English East India company was
established in 1600, by a charter from Queen
Elizabeth. In the first twelve voyages which
they fitted out for India, they appear to have
traded as a regulated company, with separate
stocks, though only in the general ships of the
company. In 1612, they united into a joint
stock. Their charter was exclusive, and,
though not confirmed by act of parliament,
was in those days supposed to convey a real
exclusive privilege. For many years, therefore,
they were not much disturbed by interlopers.
Their capital, which never exceeded
seven hundred and fourty-four thousand
pounds, and of which fifty pounds was a share,
was not so exorbitant, nor their dealings so
extensive, as to afford either a pretext for gross
negligence and profusion, or a cover to gross
malversation. Notwithstanding some extraordinary
losses, occasioned partly by the malice
of the Dutch East India company, and
partly by other accidents, they carried on for
many years a successful trade. But in process
of time, when the principles of liberty
were better understood, it became every day
more and more doubtful, how far a royal
charter, not confirmed by act of parliament,
could convey an exclusive privilege. Upon
this question the decisions of the courts of justice
were not uniform, but varied with the authority
of government, and the humours of the
times. Interlopers multiplied upon them;
and towards the end of the reign of Charles
II., through the whole of that of James II.,
and during a part of that of William III., reduced
them to great distress. In 1698, a proposal
was made to parliament, of advancing
two millions to government, at eight per cent.
provided the subscribers were erected into a
new East India company, with exclusive privileges.
The old East India company offered
seven hundred thousand pounds, nearly the
amount of their capital, at four per cent. upon
the same conditions. But such was at that
time the state of public credit, that it was more
convenient for government to borrow two millions
at eight per cent. than seven hundred
thousand pounds at four. The proposal of
the new subscribers was accepted, and a new
East India company established in consequence.
The old East India company, however,
had a right to continue their trade till
1701. They had, at the same time, in the
name of their treasurer, subscribed very artfully
three hundred and fifteen thousand
pounds into the stock of the new. By a negligence
in the expression of the act of parliament,
which vested the East India trade in
the subscribers to this loan of two millions, it
did not appear evident that they were all obliged
to unite into a joint stock. A few private
traders, whose subscriptions amounted
only to seven thousand two hundred pounds,
insisted upon the privilege of trading separately
upon their own stocks, and at their own
risks. The old East India company had a
right to a separate trade upon their own stock
till 1701; and they had likewise, both before
and after that period, a right, like that of
other private traders, to a separate trade upon
the three hundred and fifteen thousand pounds,
which they had subscribed into the stock of
the new company. The competition of the
two companies with the private traders, and
with one another, is said to have well nigh
ruined both. Upon a subsequent occasion, in
1730, when a proposal was made to parliament
for putting the trade under the management
of a regulated company, and thereby
laying it in some measure open, the East India
company, in opposition to this proposal,
represented, in very strong terms, what had
been, at this time, the miserable effects, as
they thought them, of this competition. In
India, they said, it raised the price of goods
so high, that they were not worth the buying;
and in England, by overstocking the market,
it sunk their price so low, that no profit could
be made by them. That by a more plentiful
supply, to the great advantage and conveniency
of the public, it must have reduced very
much the price of India goods in the English
market, cannot well be doubted; but that it
should have raised very much their price in
the Indian market, seems not very probable,
as all the extraordinary demand which that
competition could occasion must have been
but as a drop of water in the immense ocean
of Indian commerce. The increase of demand,
besides, though in the beginning it may
sometimes raise the price of goods, never fails
to lower it in the long-run. It encourages
production, and thereby increases the competition
of the producers, who, in order to undersell
one another, have recourse to new divisions
of labour and new improvements of
art, which might never otherwise have been
thought of. The miserable effects of which
the company complained, were the cheapness
of consumption, and the encouragement given
to production; precisely the two effects which
it is the great business of political economy to
promote. The competition, however, of which
they gave this doleful account, had not been
allowed to be of long continuance. In 1702,
the two companies were, in some measure,
united by an indenture tripartite, to which the
queen was the third party; and in 1708, they
were by act of parliament, perfectly consolidated
into one company, by their present
name of the United Company of Merchants
trading to the East Indies. Into this act it
was thought worth while to insert a clause,
allowing the separate traders to continue their
trade till Michaelmas 1711; but at the same
time empowering the directors, upon three
years notice, to redeem their little capital of
seven thousand two hundred pounds, and
thereby to convert the whole stock of the company
into a joint stock. By the same act, the
capital of the company, in consequence of a
new loan to government, was augmented from
two millions to three millions two hundred
thousand pounds. In 1743, the company advanced
another million to government. But
this million being raised, not by a call upon
the proprietors, but by selling annuities and
contracting bond-debts, it did not augment
the stock upon which the proprietors could
claim a dividend. It augmented, however,
their trading stock, it being equally liable
with the other three millions two hundred
thousand pounds, to the losses sustained, and
debts contracted by the company in prosecution
of their mercantile projects. From 1708,
or at least from 1711, this company, being
delivered from all competitors, and fully established
in the monopoly of the English
commerce to the East Indies, carried on a
successful trade, and from their profits, made
annually a moderate dividend to their proprietors.
During the French war, which began
in 1741, the ambition of Mr. Dupleix, the
French governor of Pondicherry, involved
them in the wars of the Carnatic, and in the
politics of the Indian princes. After many
signal successes, and equally signal losses,
they at last lost Madras, at that time their
principal settlement in India. It was restored
to them by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle;
and, about this time the spirit of war and
conquest seems to have taken possession of
their servants in India, and never since to
have left them. During the French war,
which began in 1755, their arms partook of
the general good fortune of those of Great
Britain. They defended Madras, took Pondicherry,
recovered Calcutta, and acquired the
revenues of a rich and extensive territory, amounting,
it was then said, to upwards of
three millions a-year. They remained for
several years in quiet possession of this revenue;
but in 1767, administration laid claim
to their territorial acquisitions, and the revenue
arising from them, as of right belonging
to the crown; and the company, in compensation
for this claim, agreed to pay to government
four hundred thousand pounds a-year.
They had, before this, gradually augmented
their dividend from about six to ten per cent.;
that is, upon their capital of three millions
two hundred thousand pounds, they had increased
it by a hundred and twenty-eight
thousand pounds, or had raised it from one
hundred and ninety-two thousand to three
hundred and twenty thousand pounds a-year.
They were attempting about this time to raise
it still further, to twelve and a-half per cent.,
which would have made their annual payments
to their proprietors equal to what they
had agreed to pay annually to government, or
to four hundred thousand pounds a-year.
But during the two years in which their agreement
with government was to take place,
they were restrained from any further increase
of dividend by two successive acts of parliament,
of which the object was to enable them
to make a speedier progress in the payment
of their debts, which were at this time estimated
at upwards of six or seven millions
sterling. In 1769, they renewed their agreement
with government for five years more,
and stipulated, that during the course of that
period, they should be allowed gradually to
increase their dividend to twelve and a-half
per cent; never increasing it, however, more
than one per cent. in one year. This increase
of dividend, therefore, when it had risen to its
utmost height, could augment their annual
payments, to their proprietors and government
together, but by six hundred and eight thousand
pounds, beyond what they had been before
their late territorial acquisitions. What
the gross revenue of those territorial acquisitions
was supposed to amount to, has already
been mentioned; and by an account brought
by the Cruttenden East Indiaman in 1769,
the neat revenue, clear of all deductions and
military charges, was stated at two millions
forty-eight thousand seven hundred and forty-seven
pounds. They were said, at the same
time, to possess another revenue, arising partly
from lands, but chiefly from the customs
established at their different settlements, amounting
to four hundred and thirty-nine
thousand pounds. The profits of their trade,
too, according to the evidence of their chairman
before the house of commons, amounted,
at this time, to at least four hundred thousand
pounds a-year; according to that of their
accountant, to at least five hundred thousand;
according to the lowest account, at least equal
to the highest dividend that was to be paid to
their proprietors. So great a revenue might
certainly have afforded augmentation of six
hundred and eight thousand pounds in their
annual payments; and, at the same time, have
left a large sinking fund, sufficient for the
speedy reduction of their debt. In 1773,
however, their debts, instead of being reduced,
were augmented by an arrear to the treasury
in the payment of the four hundred thousand
pounds; by another to the custom-house
for duties unpaid; by a large debt to the
bank, for money borrowed; and by a fourth,
for bills drawn upon them from India, and
wantonly accepted, to the amount of upwards
of twelve hundred thousand pounds. The
distress which these accumulated claims
brought upon them, obliged them not only to
reduce all at once their dividend to six per
cent. but to throw themselves upon the mercy
of government, and to supplicate, first, a release
from the further payment of the stipulated
four hundred thousand pounds a-year;
and, secondly, a loan of fourteen hundred
thousand, to save them from immediate bankruptcy.
The great increase of their fortune
had, it seems, only served to furnish their servants
with a pretext for greater profusion, and
a cover for greater malversation, than in proportion
even to that increase of fortune. The
conduct of their servants in India, and the general
state of their affairs both in India and in
Europe, became the subject of a parliamentary
inquiry: in consequence of which, several
very important alterations were made in
the constitution of their government, both at
home and abroad. In India, their principal
settlements of Madras, Bombay, and Calcutta,
which had before been altogether independent
of one another, were subjected to a governor-general,
assisted by a council of four
assessors, parliament assuming to itself the
first nomination of this governor and council,
who were to reside at Calcutta; that city having
now become, what Madras was before, the
most important of the English settlements in
India. The court of the Mayor of Calcutta,
originally instituted for the trial of mercantile
causes, which arose in the city and neighbourhood,
had gradually extended its jurisdiction
with the extension of the empire. It was now
reduced and confined to the original purpose
of its institution. Instead of it, a new supreme
court of judicature was established, consisting
of a chief justice and three judges, to
be appointed by the crown. In Europe, the
qualification necessary to entitle a proprietor
to vote at their general courts was raised, from
five hundred pounds, the original price of a
share in the stock of the company, to a thousand
pounds. In order to vote upon this qualification,
too, it was declared necessary, that
he should have possessed it, if acquired by his
own purchase, and not by inheritance, for at
least one year, instead of six months, the term
requisite before. The court of twenty-four
directors had before been chosen annually;
but it was now enacted, that each director
should, for the future, be chosen for four
years; six of them, however, to go out of office
by rotation every year, and not be capable
of being re-chosen at the election of the six
new directors for the ensuing year. In consequence
of these alterations, the courts, both
of the proprietors and directors, it was expected,
would be likely to act with more dignity
and steadiness than they had usually done before.
But it seems impossible, by any alterations,
to render those courts, in any respect,
fit to govern, or even to share in the government
of a great empire; because the greater
part of their members must always have too
little interest in the prosperity of that empire,
to give any serious attention to what may promote
it. Frequently a man of great, sometimes
even a man of small fortune, is willing
to purchase a thousand pounds share in India
stock, merely for the influence which he expects
to acquire by a vote in the court of proprietors.
It gives him a share, though not
in the plunder, yet in the appointment of the
plunderers of India; the court of directors,
though they make that appointment, being necessarily
more or less under the influence of
the proprietors, who not only elect those directors,
but sometimes over-rule the appointments
of their servants in India. Provided
he can enjoy this influence for a few years, and
thereby provide for a certain number of his
friends, he frequently cares little about the dividend,
or even about the value of the stock
upon which his vote in founded. About the
prosperity of the great empire, in the government
of which that vote gives him a share, he
seldom cares at all. No other sovereigns ever
were, or, from the nature of things, ever could
be, so perfectly indifferent about the happiness
or misery of their subjects, the improvement
or waste of their dominions, the glory or disgrace
of their administration, as, from irresistible
moral causes, the greater part of the proprietors
of such a mercantile company are, and
necessarily must be. This indifference, too,
was more likely to be increased than diminished
by some of the new regulations which were
made in consequence of the parliamentary inquiry.
By a resolution of the house of commons,
for example, it was declared, that when
the L.1,400,000 lent to the company by government,
should be paid, and their bond-debts
be reduced to L.1,500,000, they might then,
and not till then, divide eight per cent. upon
their capital; and that whatever remained of
their revenues and neat profits at home should
be divided into four parts; three of them to
be paid into the exchequer for the use of the
public, and the fourth to be reserved as a fund,
either for the further reduction of their bond-debts,
or for the discharge of other contingent
exigencies which the company might labour
under. But if the company were bad stewards
and bad sovereigns, when the whole of
their neat revenue and profits belonged to
themselves, and were at their own disposal,
they were surely not likely to be better when
three-fourths of them were to belong to other
people, and the other fourth, though to be
laid out for the benefit of the company, yet to
be so under the inspection and with the approbation
of other people.
It might be more agreeable to the company,
that their own servants and dependants should
have either the pleasure of wasting, or the
profit of embezzling, whatever surplus might
remain, after paying the proposed dividend of
eight per cent. than that it should come into
the hands of a set of people with whom those
resolutions could scarce fail to set them in
some measure at variance. The interest of
those servants and dependants might so far
predominate in the court of proprietors, as
sometimes to dispose it to support the authors
of depredations which had been committed
in direct violation of its own authority.
With the majority of proprietors, the support
even of the authority of their own court
might sometimes be a matter of less consequence
than the support of those who had set
that authority at defiance.
The regulations of 1773, accordingly, did
not put an end to the disorder of the company's
government in India. Notwithstanding
that, during a momentary fit of good conduct,
they had at one time collected into the
treasury of Calcutta more than L.3,000,000
sterling; notwithstanding that they had afterwards
extended either their dominion or their
depredations over a vast accession of some of
the richest and most fertile countries in India,
all was wasted and destroyed. They found
themselves altogether unprepared to stop or
resist the incursion of Hyder Ali; and in
consequence of those disorders, the company
is now (1784) in greater distress than ever;
and, in order to prevent immediate bankruptcy,
is once more reduced to supplicate
the assistance of government. Different
plans have been proposed by the different
parties in parliament for the better management
of its affairs; and all those plans seem
to agree in supposing, what was indeed always
abundantly evident, that it is altogether
unfit to govern its territorial possessions.
Even the company itself seems to be convinced
of its own incapacity so far, and seems,
upon that account willing to give them up to
government.
With the right of possessing forts and garrisons
in distant and barbarous countries, is
necessarily connected the right of making
peace and war in those countries. The
joint-stock companies, which have had the
one right, have constantly exercised the other,
and have frequently had it expressly conferred
upon them. How unjustly, how capriciously,
how cruelly, they have commonly
exercised it, is too well known from recent
experience.
When a company of merchants undertake,
at their own risk and expense, to establish a
new trade with some remote and barbarous
nation, it may not be unreasonable to incorporate
them into a joint-stock company, and
to grant them, in case of their success, a monopoly
of the trade for a certain number of
years. It is the easiest and most natural
way in which the state can recompense them
for hazarding a dangerous and expensive experiment,
of which the public is afterwards to
reap the benefit. A temporary monopoly
of this kind may be vindicated, upon the
same principles upon which a like monopoly
of a new machine is granted to its inventor,
and that of a new book to its author. But
upon the expiration of the term, the monopoly
ought certainly to determine; the forts
and garrisons, if it was found necessary to
establish any, to be taken into the hands of
government, their value to be paid to the
company, and the trade to be laid open to all
the subjects of the state. By a perpetual
monopoly, all the other subjects of the state
are taxed very absurdly in two different ways:
first, by the high price of goods, which, in
the case of a free trade, they could buy much
cheaper; and, secondly, by their total exclusion
from a branch of business which it might
be both convenient and profitable for many
of them to carry on. It is for the most
worthless of all purposes, too, that they are
taxed in this manner. It is merely to enable
the company to support the negligence, profusion,
and malversation of their own servants,
whose disorderly conduct seldom allows
the dividend of the company to exceed the
ordinary rate of profit in trades which are
altogether free, and very frequently makes it
fall even a good deal short of that rate.
Without a monopoly, however, a joint-stock
company, it would appear from experience,
cannot long carry on any branch of foreign
trade. To buy in one market, in order to
sell with profit in another, when there are
many competitors in both; to watch over,
not only the occasional variations in the demand,
but the much greater and more frequent
variations in the competition, or in the
supply which that demand is likely to get
from other people; and to suit with dexterity
and judgment both the quantity and quality
of each assortment of goods to all these
circumstances, is a species of warfare, of which
the operations are continually changing, and
which can scarce ever be conducted successfully,
without such an unremitting exertion
of vigilance and attention as cannot long be
expected from the directors of a joint-stock
company. The East India company, upon
the redemption of their funds, and the expiration
of their exclusive privilege, have a
right, by act of parliament, to continue a
corporation with a joint stock, and to trade in
their corporate capacity to the East Indies,
in common with the rest of their fellow subjects.
But in this situation, the superior vigilance
and attention of a private adventurer
would, in all probability, soon make them
weary of the trade.
An eminent French author, of great knowledge
in matters of political economy, the
Abbé Morellet, gives a list of fifty-five joint-stock
companies for foreign trade, which have
been established in different parts of Europe
since the year 1600, and which, according
to him, have all failed from mismanagement,
notwithstanding they had exclusive privileges.
He has been misinformed with regard to the
history of two or three of them, which were
not joint-stock companies and have not failed.
But, in compensation, there have been
several joint-stock companies which have failed,
and which he has omitted.
The only trades which it seems possible for
a joint-stock company to carry on successfully,
without an exclusive privilege, are those,
of which all the operations are capable of
bring reduced to what is called a routine, or
to such a uniformity of method as admits
of little or no variation. Of this kind is,
first, the banking trade; secondly, the trade
of insurance from fire and from sea risk, and
capture in time of war; thirdly, the trade of
making and maintaining a navigable cut or
canal; and, fourthly, the similar trade of
bringing water for the supply of a great city.
Though the principles of the banking trade
may appear somewhat abstruse, the practice
is capable of being reduced to strict rules.
To depart upon any occasion from those
rules, in consequence of some flattering speculation
of extraordinary gain, is almost always
extremely dangerous and frequently
fatal to the banking company which attempts
it. But the constitution of joint-stock companies
renders them in general, more tenacious
of established rules than any private
copartnery. Such companies, therefore, seem
extremely well fitted for this trade. The
principal banking companies in Europe, accordingly,
are joint-stock companies, many
of which manage their trade very successfully
without any exclusive privilege. The bank
of England has no other exclusive privilege,
except that no other banking company in
England shall consist of more than six persons.
The two banks of Edinburgh are
joint-stock companies, without any exclusive
privilege.
The value of the risk, either from fire, or
from loss by sea, or by capture, though it
cannot, perhaps, be calculated very exactly, admits,
however, of such a gross estimation, as
renders it, in some degree, reducible to strict
rule and method. The trade of insurance,
therefore, may be carried on successfully by a
joint-stock company, without any exclusive
privilege. Neither the London Assurance,
nor the Royal Exchange Assurance companies,
have any such privilege.
When a navigable cut or canal has been
once made, the management of it becomes
quite simple and easy, and it is reducible to
strict rule and method. Even the making of
it is so, as it may be contracted for with undertakers,
at so much a mile, and so much a
lock. The same thing may be said of a canal,
an aqueduct, or a great pipe for bringing
water to supply a great city. Such undertakings,
therefore, may be, and accordingly
frequently are, very successfully managed by
joint-stock companies, without any exclusive
privilege.
To establish a joint-stock company, however,
for any undertaking, merely because
such a company might be capable of managing
it successfully; or, to exempt a particular
set of dealers from some of the general
laws which take place with regard to all their
neighbours, merely because they might be
capable of thriving, if they had such an
exemption, would certainly not be reasonable.
To render such an establishment perfectly
reasonable, with the circumstance of being
reducible to strict rule and method, two other
circumstances ought to concur. First, it
ought to appear with the clearest evidence,
that the undertaking is of greater and more
general utility than the greater part of common
trades; and, secondly, that it requires a
greater capital than can easily be collected
into a private copartnery. If a moderate
capital were sufficient, the great utility of the
undertaking would not be a sufficient reason
for establishing a joint-stock company; because,
in this case, the demand for what it
was to produce, would readily and easily be
supplied by private adventurers. In the four
trades above mentioned, both those circumstances
concur.
The great and general utility of the banking
trade, when prudently managed, has been
fully explained in the second book of this
Inquiry. But a public bank, which is to
support public credit, and, upon particular
emergencies, to advance to government the
whole produce of a tax, to the amount, perhaps,
of several millions, a year or two before
it comes in, requires a greater capital than
can easily be collected into any private copartnery.
The trade of insurance gives great security
to the fortunes of private people, and, by
dividing among a great many that loss which
would ruin an individual, makes it fall light
and easy upon the whole society. In order
to give this security, however, it is necessary
that the insurers should have a very large
capital. Before the establishment of the two
joint-stock companies for insurance in London,
a list, it is said, was laid before the attorney-general,
of one hundred and fifty private
insurers, who had failed in the course of
a few years.
That navigable cuts and canals, and the
works which are sometimes necessary for
supplying a great city with water, are of
great and general utility, while, at the same
time, they frequently require a greater expense
than suits the fortunes of private people, is
sufficiently obvious.
Except the four trades above mentioned, I
have not been able to recollect any other, in
which all the three circumstances requisite for
rendering reasonable the establishment of a
joint-stock company concur. The English
copper company of London, the lead-smelting
company, the glass-grinding company,
have not even the pretext of any great or
singular utility in the object which they pursue;
nor does the pursuit of that object seem
to require any expense unsuitable to the fortunes
of many private men. Whether the
trade which those companies carry on, is reducible
to such strict rule and method as to
render it fit for the management of a joint-stock
company, or whether they have any
reason to boast of their extraordinary profits,
I do not pretend to know. The mine-adventurers
company has been long ago bankrupt.
A share in the stock of the British Linen
company of Edinburgh sells, at present, very
much below par, though less so than it did
some years ago. The joint-stock companies,
which are established for the public-spirited
purpose of promoting some particular manufacture,
over and above managing their own
affairs ill, to the diminution of the general stock
of the society, can, in other respects, scarce
ever fail to do more harm than good. Notwithstanding
the most upright intentions, the
unavoidable partiality of their directors to
particular branches of the manufacture, of
which the undertakers mislead and impose
upon them, is a real discouragement to the
rest, and necessarily breaks, more or less, that
natural proportion which would otherwise
establish itself between judicious industry and
profit, and which, to the general industry of
the country, is of all encouragements the
greatest and the most effectual.
The institutions for the education of the
youth may, in the same manner, furnish a
revenue sufficient for defraying their own expense.
The fee or honorary, which the
scholar pays to the master, naturally constitutes
a revenue of this kind.
Even where the reward of the master does
not arise altogether from this natural revenue,
it still is not necessary that it should be derived
from that general revenue of the society,
of which the collection and application
are, in most countries, assigned to the executive
power. Through the greater part of
Europe, accordingly, the endowment of
schools and colleges makes either no charge
upon that general revenue, or but a very
small one. It everywhere arises chiefly from
some local or provincial revenue, from the
rent of some landed estate, or from the interest
of some sum of money, allotted and
put under the management of trustees for
this particular purpose, sometimes by the sovereign
himself, and sometimes by some private
donor.
Have those public endowments contributed
in general, to promote the end of their institution?
Have they contributed to encourage
the diligence, and to improve the abilities, of
the teachers? Have they directed the course
of education towards objects more useful,
both to the individual and to the public, than
those to which it would naturally have gone
of its own accord? It should not seem very
difficult to give at least a probable answer to
each of those questions.
In every profession, the exertion of the
greater part of those who exercise it, is always
in proportion to the necessity they are
under of making that exertion. This necessity
is greatest with those to whom the emoluments
of their profession are the only
source from which they expect their fortune,
or even their ordinary revenue and subsistence.
In order to acquire this fortune, or
even to get this subsistence, they must, in the
course of a year, execute a certain quantity
of work of a known value; and, where the
competition is free, the rivalship of competitors,
who are all endeavouring to justle one another
out of employment, obliges every man to endeavour
to execute his work with a certain
degree of exactness. The greatness of the objects
which are to be acquired by success in
some particular professions may, no doubt,
sometimes animate the exertion of a few men
of extraordinary spirit and ambition. Great
objects, however, are evidently not necessary,
in order to occasion the greatest exertions.
Rivalship and emulation render excellency,
even in mean professions, an object of ambition,
and frequently occasion the very greatest
exertions. Great objects, on the contrary,
alone and unsupported by the necessity
of application, have seldom been sufficient to
occasion any considerable exertion. In England,
success in the profession of the law
leads to some very great objects of ambition;
and yet how few men, born to easy fortunes,
have ever in this country been eminent in that
profession?
The endowments of schools and colleges
have necessarily diminished, more or less, the
necessity of application in the teachers. Their
subsistence, so far as it arises from their salaries,
is evidently derived from a fund, altogether
independent of their success and reputation
in their particular professions.
In some universities, the salary makes but
a part, and frequently but a small part, of
the emoluments of the teacher, of which the
greater part arises from the honoraries or fees
of his pupils. The necessity of application,
though always more or less diminished, is
not, in this case, entirely taken away. Reputation
in his profession is still of some importance
to him, and he still has some dependency
upon the affection, gratitude, and
favourable report of those who have attended
upon his instructions; and these favourable
sentiments he is likely to gain in no way so
well as by deserving them, that is, by the
abilities and diligence with which he discharges
every part of his duty.
In other universities, the teacher is prohibited
from receiving any honorary or fee
from his pupils, and his salary constitutes the
whole of the revenue which he derives from
his office. His interest is, in this case, set
as directly in opposition to his duty as it is
possible to set it. It is the interest of every
man to live as much at his ease as he can;
and if his emoluments are to be precisely the
same, whether he does or does not perform
some very laborious duty, it is certainly his
interest, at least as interest is vulgarly understood,
either to neglect it altogether, or,
if he is subject to some authority which will
not suffer him to do this, to perform it in as
careless and slovenly a manner as that authority
will permit. If he is naturally active
and a lover of labour, it is his interest to employ
that activity in any way from which he
can derive some advantage, rather than in the
performance of his duty, from which he can
derive none.
If the authority to which he is subject resides
in the body corporate, the college, or
university, of which he himself is a member,
and in which the greater part of the other
members are, like himself, persons who either
are, or ought to be teachers, they are likely
to make a common cause, to be all very indulgent
to one another, and every man to
consent that his neighbour may neglect his
duty, provided he himself is allowed to neglect
his own. In the university of Oxford,
the greater part of the public professors have,
for these many years, given up altogether
even the pretence of teaching.
If the authority to which he is subject resides,
not so much in the body corporate, of
which he is a member, as in some other extraneous
persons, in the bishop of the diocese,
for example, in the governor of the province,
or, perhaps, in some minister of state,
it is not, indeed, in this case, very likely that
he will be suffered to neglect his duty altogether.
All that such superiors, however,
can force him to do, is to attend upon his
pupils a certain number of hours, that is, to
give a certain number of lectures in the week,
or in the year. What those lectures shall
be, must still depend upon the diligence of
the teacher; and that diligence is likely to be
proportioned to the motives which he has for
exerting it. An extraneous jurisdiction of
this kind, besides, is liable to be exercised
both ignorantly and capriciously. In its nature,
it is arbitrary and discretionary; and
the persons who exercise it, neither attending
upon the lectures of the teacher themselves,
nor perhaps understanding the sciences which
it is his business to teach, are seldom capable
of exercising it with judgment. From the
insolence of office, too, they are frequently
indifferent how they exercise it, and are very
apt to censure or deprive him of his office
wantonly and without any just cause. The
person subject to such jurisdiction is necessarily
degraded by it, and, instead of being
one of the most respectable, is rendered one
of the meanest and most contemptible persons
in the society. It is by powerful protection
only, that he can effectually guard
himself against the bad usage to which he is
at all times exposed; and this protection he
is most likely to gain, not by ability or diligence
in his profession, but by obsequiousness
to the will of his superiors, and by being
ready, at all times, to sacrifice to that will
the rights, the interest, and the honour of
the body corporate, of which he is a member.
Whoever has attended for any considerable
time to the administration of a French university,
must have had occasion to remark the
effects which naturally result from an arbitrary
and extraneous jurisdiction of this kind.
Whatever forces a certain number of students
to any college or university, independent
of the merit or reputation of the teachers,
tends more or less to diminish the necessity
of that merit or reputation.
The privileges of graduates in arts, in law,
physic, and divinity, when they can be obtained
only by residing a certain number of years
in certain universities, necessarily force a certain
number of students to such universities,
independent of the merit or reputation of the
teachers. The privileges of graduates are a
sort of statutes of apprenticeship, which have
contributed to the improvement of education,
just as the other statutes of apprenticeship
have to that of arts and manufactures.
The charitable foundations of scholarships,
exhibitions, bursaries, &c. necessarily attach
a certain number of students to certain colleges,
independent altogether of the merit of
those particular colleges. Were the students
upon such charitable foundations left free to
choose what college they liked best, such liberty
might perhaps contribute to excite some
emulation among different colleges. A regulation,
on the contrary, which prohibited
even the independent members of every particular
college from leaving it, and going to
any other, without leave first asked and obtained
of that which they meant to abandon,
would tend very much to extinguish that
emulation.
If in each college, the tutor or teacher,
who was to instruct each student in all arts
and sciences, should not be voluntarily chosen
by the student, but appointed by the head of
the college; and if, in case of neglect, inability,
or bad usage, the student should not be
allowed to change him for another, without
leave first asked and obtained; such a regulation
would not only tend very much to extinguish
all emulation among the different
tutors of the same college, but to diminish
very much, in all of them, the necessity of
diligence and of attention to their respective
pupils. Such teachers, though very well
paid by their students, might be as much disposed
to neglect them, as those who are not
paid by them at all or who have no other recompense
but their salary.
If the teacher happens to be a man of
sense, it must be an unpleasant thing to him
to be conscious, while he is lecturing to his
students, that he is either speaking or reading
nonsense, or what is very little better than
nonsense. It must, too, be unpleasant to
him to observe, that the greater part of his
students desert his lectures; or perhaps, attend
upon them with plain enough marks of
neglect, contempt, and derision. If he is
obliged, therefore, to give a certain number
of lectures, these motives alone, without any
other interest, might dispose him to take
some pains to give tolerably good ones. Several
different expedients, however, may be
fallen upon, which will effectually blunt the
edge of all those incitements to diligence.
The teacher, instead of explaining to his pupils
himself the science in which he proposes
to instruct them, may read some book upon
it; and if this book is written in a foreign
and dead language, by interpreting it to
them into their own, or, what would give
him still less trouble, by making them interpret
it to him, and by now and then making
an occasional remark upon it, he may flatter
himself that he is giving a lecture. The
slightest degree of knowledge and application
will enable him to do this, without exposing
himself to contempt or derision, by saying
any thing that is really foolish, absurd, or
ridiculous. The discipline of the college, at
the same time, may enable him to force all
his pupils to the most regular attendance upon
his sham lecture, and to maintain the
most decent and respectful behaviour during
the whole time of the performance.
The discipline of colleges and universities
is in general contrived, not for the benefit of
the students, but for the interest, or, more
properly speaking, for the ease of the masters.
Its object is, in all cases, to maintain the authority
of the master, and, whether he neglects
or performs his duty, to oblige the students
in all cases to behave to him as if he
performed it with the greatest diligence and
ability. It seems to presume perfect wisdom
and virtue in the one order, and the greatest
weakness and folly in the other. Where the
masters, however, really perform their duty,
there are no examples, I believe, that the
greater part of the students ever neglect
theirs. No discipline is ever requisite to
force attendance upon lectures which are
really worth the attending, as is well known
wherever any such lectures are given. Force
and restraint may, no doubt, be in some degree
requisite, in order to oblige children, or
very young boys, to attend to those parts of
education, which it is thought necessary for
them to acquire during that early period of
life; but after twelve or thirteen years of age,
provided the master does his duty, force or
restraint can scarce ever be necessary to carry
on any part of education. Such is the generosity
of the greater part of young men, that
so far from being disposed to neglect or despise
the instructions of their master, provided
he shews some serious intention of being
of use to them, they are generally inclined
to pardon a great deal of incorrectness in
the performance of his duty, and sometimes
even to conceal from the public a good deal
of gross negligence.
Those parts of education, it is to be observed,
for the teaching of which there are no
public institutions, are generally the best
taught. When a young man goes to a fencing
or a dancing school, he does not, indeed,
always learn to fence or to dance very well;
but he seldom fails of learning to fence or to
dance. The good effects of the riding school
are not commonly so evident. The expense
of a riding school is so great, that in most
places it is a public institution. The three
most essential parts of literary education, to
read, write, and account, it still continues to
be more common to acquire in private than in
public schools; and it very seldom happens,
that anybody fails of acquiring them to the
degree in which it is necessary to acquire
them.
In England, the public schools are much
less corrupted than the universities. In the
schools, the youth are taught, or at least may
be taught, Greek and Latin; that is, every
thing which the masters pretend to teach, or
which it is expected they should teach. In
the universities, the youth neither are taught,
nor always can find any proper means of
being taught the sciences, which it is the business
of those incorporated bodies to teach.
The reward of the schoolmaster, in most
cases, depends principally, in some cases almost
entirely, upon the fees or honoraries of
his scholars. Schools have no exclusive privileges.
In order to obtain the honours of
graduation, it is not necessary that a person
should bring a certificate of his having studied
a certain number of years at a public school.
If, upon examination, he appears to understand
what is taught there, no questions are
asked about the place where he learnt it.
The parts of education which are commonly
taught in universities, it may perhaps be
said, are not very well taught. But had it
not been for those institutions, they would
not have been commonly taught at all; and
both the individual and the public would have
suffered a good deal from the want of those
important parts of education.
The present universities of Europe were
originally, the greater part of them, ecclesiastical
corporations, instituted for the education
of churchmen. They were founded by
the authority of the pope; and were so entirely
under his immediate protection, that
their members, whether masters or students,
had all of them what was then called the benefit
of clergy, that is, were exempted from
the civil jurisdiction of the countries in which
their respective universities were situated, and
were amenable only to the ecclesiastical tribunals.
What was taught in the greater part
of those universities was suitable to the end
of their institution, either theology, or something
that was merely preparatory to theology.
When Christianity was first established by
law, a corrupted Latin had become the common
language of all the western parts of
Europe. The service of the church, accordingly,
and the translation of the Bible which
were read in churches, were both in that corrupted
Latin; that is, in the common language
of the country. After the irruption of
the barbarous nations who overturned the
Roman empire, Latin gradually ceased to be
the language of any part of Europe. But
the reverence of the people naturally preserves
the established forms and ceremonies of religion
long after the circumstances which first
introduced and rendered them reasonable, are
no more. Though Latin, therefore, was no
longer understood anywhere by the great
body of the people, the whole service of the
church still continued to be performed in that
language. Two different languages were
thus established in Europe, in the same manner
as in ancient Egypt: a language of the
priests, and a language of the people; a
sacred and a profane, a learned and an unlearned
language. But it was necessary that
the priests should understand something of
that sacred and learned language in which
they were to officiate; and the study of the
Latin language therefore made, from the
beginning, an essential part of university
education.
It was not so with that either of the Greek
or of the Hebrew language. The infallible
decrees of the church had pronounced the
Latin translation of the Bible, commonly
called the Latin Vulgate, to have been equally
dictated by divine inspiration, and therefore
of equal authority with the Greek and
Hebrew originals. The knowledge of those
two languages, therefore, not being indispensably
requisite to a churchman, the study
of them did not for a long time make a necessary
part of the common course of university
education. There are some Spanish
universities, I am assured, in which the study
of the Greek language has never yet made
any part of that course. The first reformers
found the Greek text of the New Testament,
and even the Hebrew text of the Old, more
favourable to their opinions than the vulgate
translation, which, as might naturally
be supposed, had been gradually accommodated
to support the doctrines of the Catholic
Church. They set themselves, therefore, to
expose the many errors of that translation,
which the Roman catholic clergy were thus
put under the necessity of defending or explaining.
But this could not well be done
without some knowledge of the original languages,
of which the study was therefore gradually
introduced into the greater part of
universities; both of those which embraced,
and of those which rejected, the doctrines of
the reformation. The Greek language was
connected with every part of that classical
learning, which, though at first principally
cultivated by catholics and Italians, happened
to come into fashion much about the same
time that the doctrines of the reformation
were set on foot. In the greater part of universities,
therefore, that language was taught
previous to the study of philosophy, and as
soon as the student had made some progress
in the Latin. The Hebrew language having
no connection with classical learning, and,
except the Holy Scriptures, being the language
of not a single book in any esteem
the study of it did not commonly commence
till after that of philosophy, and when the
student had entered upon the study of theology.
Originally, the first rudiments, both of the
Greek and Latin languages, were taught in
universities; and in some universities they
still continue to be so. In others, it is expected
that the student should have previously
acquired, at least, the rudiments of one or
both of those languages, of which the study
continues to make everywhere a very considerable
part of university education.
The ancient Greek philosophy was divided
into three great branches; physics, or natural
philosophy; ethics, or moral philosophy; and
logic. This general division seems perfectly
agreeable to the nature of things.
The great phenomenon of nature, the revolutions
of the heavenly bodies, eclipses, comets;
thunder and lightning, and other extraordinary
meteors; the generation, the life,
growth, and dissolution of plants and animals;
are objects which, as they necessarily
excite the wonder, so they naturally call forth
the curiosity of mankind to inquire into their
causes. Superstition first attempted to satisfy
this curiosity, by referring all those
wonderful appearances to the immediate agency
of the gods. Philosophy afterwards
endeavoured to account for them from more
familiar causes, or from such as mankind
were better acquainted with, than the agency
of the gods. As those great phenomena are
the first objects of human curiosity, so the
science which pretends to explain them must
naturally have been the first branch of philosophy
that was cultivated. The first philosophers,
accordingly, of whom history has
preserved any account, appears to have been
natural philosophers.
In every age and country of the world,
men must have attended to the characters,
designs, and actions of one another; and
many reputable rules and maxims for the
conduct of human life must have been laid
down and approved of by common consent.
As soon as writing came into fashion, wise
men, or those who fancied themselves such,
would naturally endeavour to increase the
number of those established and respected
maxims, and to express their own sense of
what was either proper or improper conduct,
sometimes in the more artificial form of apologues,
like what are called the fables of
Æsop; and sometimes in the more simple
one of apophthegms or wise sayings, like the
proverbs of Solomon, the verses of Theognis
and Phocyllides, and some part of the works
of Hesiod. They might continue in this
manner, for a long time, merely to multiply
the number of those maxims of prudence and
morality, without even attempting to arrange
them in any very distinct or methodical order,
much less to connect them together by one or
more general principles, from which they
were all deducible, like effects from their natural
causes. The beauty of a systematical
arrangement of different observations, connected
by a few common principles, was first
seen in the rude essays of those ancient times
towards a system of natural philosophy.
Something of the same kind was afterwards
attempted in morals. The maxims of common
life were arranged in some methodical
order, and connected together by a few common
principles, in the same manner as they
had attempted to arrange and connect the
phenomena of nature. The science which
pretends to investigate and explain those connecting
principles, is what is properly called
Moral Philosophy.
Different authors gave different systems,
both of natural and moral philosophy. But
the arguments by which they supported those
different systems, far from being always demonstrations,
were frequently at best but
very slender probabilities, and sometimes
mere sophisms, which had no other foundation
but the inaccuracy and ambiguity of
common language. Speculative systems,
have, in all ages of the world, been adopted
for reasons too frivolous to have determined
the judgment of any man of common sense,
in a matter of the smallest pecuniary interest.
Gross sophistry has scarce ever had any influence
upon the opinions of mankind, except
in matters of philosophy and speculation;
and in these it has frequently had the
greatest. The patrons of each system of natural
and moral philosophy, naturally endeavoured
to expose the weakness of the arguments
adduced to support the systems which
were opposite to their own. In examining
those arguments, they were necessarily led to
consider the difference between a probable
and a demonstrative argument, between a
fallacious and a conclusive one; and logic,
or the science of the general principles of
good and bad reasoning, necessarily arose
out of the observations which a scrutiny of
this kind gave occasion to; though, in its origin,
posterior both to physics and to ethics, it
was commonly taught, not indeed in all, but
in the greater part of the ancient schools of
philosophy, previously to either of those
sciences. The student, it seems to have been
thought, ought to understand well the difference
between good and bad reasoning, before
he was led to reason upon subjects of so great
importance.
This ancient division of philosophy into
three parts was, in the greater part of the
universities of Europe, changed for another
into five.
In the ancient philosophy, whatever was
taught concerning the nature either of the
human mind or of the Deity, made a part of
the system of physics. Those beings, in
whatever their essence might be supposed to
consist, were parts of the great system of the
universe, and parts, too, productive of the
most important effects. Whatever human
reason could either conclude or conjecture
concerning them, made, as it were, two
chapters, though no doubt two very important
ones, of the science which pretended to give
an account of the origin and revolutions of
the great system of the universe. But in
the universities of Europe, where philosophy
was taught only as subservient to theology, it
was natural to dwell longer upon these two
chapters than upon any other of the science.
They were gradually more and more extended,
and were divided into many inferior chapters;
till at last the doctrine of spirits, of
which so little can be known, came to take up
as much room in the system of philosophy as
the doctrine of bodies, of which so much can
be known. The doctrines concerning those
two subjects were considered as making two
distinct sciences. What are called metaphysics,
or pneumatics, were set in opposition
to physics, and were cultivated not only as
the more sublime, but, for the purposes of a
particular profession, as the more useful
science of the two. The proper subject of
experiment and observation, a subject in
which a careful attention is capable of making
so many useful discoveries, was almost
entirely neglected. The subject in which,
after a very few simple and almost obvious
truths, the most careful attention can discover
nothing but obscurity and uncertainty, and
can consequently produce nothing but subtleties
and sophisms, was greatly cultivated.
When these two sciences had thus been set
in opposition to one another, the comparison
between them naturally gave birth to a third,
to what was called ontology, or the science
which treated of the qualities and attributes
which were common to both the subjects of
the other two sciences. But if subtleties and
sophisms composed the greater part of the
metaphysics or pneumatics of the schools,
they composed the whole of this cobweb
science of ontology, which was likewise sometimes
called metaphysics.
Wherein consisted the happiness and perfection
of a man, considered not only as an
individual, but as the member of a family, of
a state, and of the great society of mankind,
was the object which the ancient moral philosophy
proposed to investigate. In that philosophy,
the duties of human life were treated
of as subservient to the happiness and perfection
of human life. But when moral, as
well as natural philosophy, came to be taught
only as subservient to theology, the duties of
human life were treated of as chiefly subservient
to the happiness of a life to come. In
the ancient philosophy, the perfection of virtue
was represented as necessarily productive,
to the person who possessed it, of the most
perfect happiness in this life. In the modern
philosophy, it was frequently represented as
generally, or rather as almost always, inconsistent
with any degree of happiness in this
life; and heaven was to be earned only by
penance and mortification, by the austerities
and abasement of a monk, not by the liberal,
generous, and spirited conduct of a man.
Casuistry, and an ascetic morality, made up,
in most cases, the greater part of the moral
philosophy of the schools. By far the most
important of all the different branches of philosophy
became in this manner by far the most
corrupted.
Such, therefore, was the common course of
philosophical education in the greater part of
the universities in Europe. Logic was taught
first; ontology came in the second place;
pneumatology, comprehending the doctrine
concerning the nature of the human soul and
of the Deity, in the third; in the fourth followed
a debased system of moral philosophy,
which was considered as immediately connected
with the doctrines of pneumatology,
with the immortality of the human soul, and
with the rewards and punishments which,
from the justice of the Deity, were to be expected
in a life to come: a short and superficial
system of physics usually concluded the
course.
The alterations which the universities of
Europe thus introduced into the ancient course
of philosophy were all meant for the education
of ecclesiastics, and to render it a more
proper introduction to the study of theology.
But the additional quantity of subtlety and
sophistry, the casuistry and ascetic morality
which those alterations introduced into it, certainly
did not render it more for the education
of gentlemen or men of the world, or more
likely either to improve the understanding or
to mend the heart.
This course of philosophy is what still continues
to be taught in the greater part of the
universities of Europe, with more or less diligence,
according as the constitution of each
particular university happens to render diligence
more or less necessary to the teachers.
In some of the richest and best endowed universities,
the tutors content themselves with
teaching a few unconnected shreds and parcels
of this corrupted course; and even these
they commonly teach very negligently and superficially.
The improvements which, in modern times,
have been made in several different branches
of philosophy, have not, the greater part of
them, been made in universities, though some,
no doubt, have. The greater part of universities
have not even been very forward to
adopt those improvements after they were
made; and several of those learned societies
have chosen to remain, for a long time, the
sanctuaries in which exploded systems and obsolete
prejudices found shelter and protection,
after they had been hunted out of every other
corner of the world. In general, the richest
and best endowed universities have been slowest
in adopting those improvements, and the
most averse to permit any considerable change
in the established plan of education. Those
improvements were more easily introduced into
some of the poorer universities, in which
the teachers, depending upon their reputation
for the greater part of their subsistence,
were obliged to pay more attention to the current
opinions of the world.
But though the public schools and universities
of Europe were originally intended only
for the education of a particular profession,
that of churchmen; and though they were not
always very diligent in instructing their pupils,
even in the sciences which were supposed
necessary for that profession; yet they gradually
drew to themselves the education of
almost all other people, particularly of almost
all gentlemen and men of fortune. No better
method, it seems, could be fallen upon, of
spending, with any advantage, the long interval
between infancy and that period of life
at which men begin to apply in good earnest
to the real business of the world, the business
which is to employ them during the remainder
of their days. The greater part of what is
taught in schools and universities, however,
does not seem to be the most proper preparation
for that business.
In England, it becomes every day more and
more the custom to send young people to travel
in foreign countries immediately upon their
leaving school, and without sending them to
any university. Our young people, it is said,
generally return home much improved by their
travels. A young man, who goes abroad at
seventeen or eighteen, and returns home at
one-and-twenty, returns three or four years
older than he was when he went abroad; and
at that age it is very difficult not to improve
a good deal in three or four years. In the
course of his travels, he generally acquires
some knowledge of one or two foreign languages;
a knowledge, however, which is seldom
sufficient to enable him either to speak or
write them with propriety. In other respects,
he commonly returns home more conceited,
more unprincipled, more dissipated, and more
incapable of any serious application, either to
study or to business, than he could well have
become in so short a time had he lived at
home. By travelling so very young, by spending
in the must frivolous dissipation the most
precious years of his life, at a distance from
the inspection and controul of his parents and
relations, every useful habit, which the earlier
parts of his education might have had some
tendency to form in him, instead of being riveted
and confirmed, is almost necessarily
either weakened or effaced. Nothing but the
discredit into which the universities are allowing
themselves to fall, could ever have brought
into repute so very absurd a practice as that
of travelling at this early period of life. By
sending his son abroad, a father delivers himself,
at least for some time, from so disagreeable
an object as that of a son unemployed,
neglected, and going to ruin before
his eyes.
Such have been the effects of some of the
modern institutions for education.
Different plans and different institutions for
education seem to have taken place in other
ages and nations.
In the republics of ancient Greece, every
free citizen was instructed, under the direction
of the public magistrate, in gymnastic exercises
and in music. By gymnastic exercises,
it was intended to harden his body, to sharpen
his courage, and to prepare him for the fatigues
and dangers of war; and as the Greek
militia was, by all accounts, one of the best
that ever was in the world, this part of their
public education must have answered completely
the purpose for which it was intended.
By the other part, music, it was proposed, at
least by the philosophers and historians, who
have given us an account of those institutions,
to humanize the mind, to soften the
temper, and to dispose it for performing all
the social and moral duties of public and private
life.
In ancient Rome, the exercises of the Campus
Martius answered the same purpose as
those of the Gymnasium in ancient Greece,
and they seem to have answered it equally
well. But among the Romans there was nothing
which corresponded to the musical education
of the Greeks. The morals of the Romans,
however, both in private and public
life, seem to have been, not only equal, but,
upon the whole, a good deal superior to those
of the Greeks. That they were superior in
private life, we have the express testimony of
Polybius, and of Dionysius of Halicarnassus,
two authors well acquainted with both nations;
and the whole tenor of the Greek and
Roman history bears witness to the superiority
of the public morals of the Romans. The
good temper and moderation of contending
factions seem to be the most essential circumstances
in the public morals of a free people.
But the factions of the Greeks were almost
always violent and sanguinary; whereas,
till the time of the Gracchi, no blood had
ever been shed in any Roman faction; and
from the time of the Gracchi, the Roman republic
may be considered as in reality dissolved.
Notwithstanding, therefore, the very respectable
authority of Plato, Aristotle, and
Polybius, and notwithstanding the very ingenious
reasons by which Mr. Montesquieu endeavours
to support that authority, it seems
probable that the musical education of the
Greeks had no great effect in mending their
morals, since, without any such education,
those of the Romans were, upon the whole,
superior. The respect of those ancient sages
for the institutions of their ancestors had probably
disposed them to find much political
wisdom in what was, perhaps, merely an ancient
custom, continued, without interruption,
from the earliest period of those societies, to
the times in which they had arrived at a considerable
degree of refinement. Music and
dancing are the great amusements of almost
all barbarous nations, and the great accomplishments
which are supposed to fit any man
for entertaining his society. It is so at this
day among the negroes on the coast of Africa.
It was so among the ancient Celtes, among
the ancient Scandinavians, and, as we may
learn from Homer, among the ancient Greeks,
in the times preceding the Trojan war. When
the Greek tribes had formed themselves into
little republics, it was natural that the study
of those accomplishments should for a long
time make a part of the public and common
education of the people.
The masters who instructed the young people,
either in music or in military exercises,
do not seem to have been paid, or even appointed
by the state, either in Rome or even
at Athens, the Greek republic of whose laws
and customs we are the best informed. The
state required that every free citizen should fit
himself for defending it in war, and should
upon that account, learn his military exercises.
But it left him to learn them of such
masters as he could find; and it seems to have
advanced nothing for this purpose, but a public
field or place of exercise, in which he should
practise and perform them.
In the early ages, both of the Greek and
Roman republics, the other parts of education
seem to have consisted in learning to read,
write, and account, according to the arithmetic
of the times. These accomplishments the
richer citizens seem frequently to have acquired
at home, by the assistance of some domestic
pedagogue, who was, generally, either a
slave or a freedman; and the poorer citizens
in the schools of such masters as made a trade
of teaching for hire. Such parts of education,
however, were abandoned altogether to
the care of the parents or guardians of each
individual. It does not appear that the state
ever assumed any inspection or direction of
them. By a law of Solon, indeed, the children
were acquitted from maintaining those parents
who had neglected to instruct them in
some profitable trade or business.
In the progress of refinement, when philosophy
and rhetoric came into fashion, the better
sort of people used to send their children
to the schools of philosophers and rhetoricians,
in order to be instructed in these fashionable
sciences. But those schools were not supported
by the public. They were, for a long time,
barely tolerated by it. The demand for philosophy
and rhetoric was, for a long time, so
small, that the first professed teachers of either
could not find constant employment in any
one city, but were obliged to travel about from
place to place. In this manner lived Zeno of
Elea, Protagoras, Gorgias, Hippias, and many
others. As the demand increased, the schools,
both of philosophy and rhetoric, became stationary,
first in Athens, and afterwards in several
other cities. The state, however, seems
never to have encouraged them further, than
by assigning to some of them a particular
place to teach in, which was sometimes done,
too, by private donors. The state seems to
have assigned the Academy to Plato, the Lyceum
to Aristotle, and the Portico to Zeno of
Citta, the founder of the Stoics. But Epicurus
bequeathed his gardens to his own
school. Till about the time of Marcus Antoninus,
however, no teacher appears to have
had any salary from the public, or to have had
any other emoluments, but what arose from
the honoraries or fees of his scholars. The
bounty which that philosophical emperor, as
we learn from Lucian, bestowed upon one of
the teachers of philosophy, probably lasted no
longer than his own life. There was nothing
equivalent to the privileges of graduation;
and to have attended any of those schools was
not necessary, in order to be permitted to
practise any particular trade or profession. If
the opinion of their own utility could not
draw scholars to them, the law neither forced
anybody to go to them, nor rewarded anybody
for having gone to them. The teachers had
no jurisdiction over their pupils, nor any other
authority besides that natural authority which
superior virtue and abilities never fail to procure
from young people towards those who
are entrusted with any part of their education.
At Rome, the study of the civil law made
a part of the education, not of the greater
part of the citizens, but of some particular
families. The young people, however, who
wished to acquire knowledge in the law, had
no public school to go to, and had no other
method of studying it, than by frequenting
the company of such of their relations and
friends as were supposed to understand it.
It is, perhaps, worth while to remark, that
though the laws of the twelve tables were
many of them copied from those of some ancient
Greek republics, yet law never seems
to have grown up to be a science in any republic
of ancient Greece. In Rome it became
a science very early, and gave a considerable
degree of illustration to those citizens
who had the reputation of understanding
it. In the republics of ancient Greece, particularly
in Athens, the ordinary courts of
justice consisted of numerous, and therefore
disorderly, bodies of people, who frequently
decided almost at random, or as clamour,
faction, and party-spirit, happened to determine.
The ignominy of an unjust decision,
when it was to be divided among five hundred,
a thousand, or fifteen hundred people (for
some of their courts were so very numerous),
could not fall very heavy upon any individual.
At Rome, on the contrary, the principal
courts of justice consisted either of a
single judge, or of a small number of judges,
whose characters, especially as they deliberated
always in public, could not fail to be
very much affected by any rash or unjust decision.
In doubtful cases such courts, from
their anxiety to avoid blame, would naturally
endeavour to shelter themselves under the example
or precedent of the judges who had sat
before them, either in the same or in some
other court. This attention to practice and
precedent, necessarily formed the Roman
law into that regular and orderly system in
which it has been delivered down to us; and
the like attention has had the like effects upon
the laws of every other country where
such attention has taken place. The superiority
of character in the Romans over that
of the Greeks, so much remarked by Polybius
and Dionysius of Halicarnassus, was
probably more owing to the better constitution
of their courts of justice, than to any of
the circumstances to which those authors
ascribe it. The Romans are said to have
been particularly distinguished for their superior
respect to an oath. But the people
who were accustomed to make oath only before
some diligent and well informed court of
justice, would naturally be much more attentive
to what they swore, than they who were
accustomed to do the same thing before mobbish
and disorderly assemblies.
The abilities, both civil and military, of
the Greeks and Romans, will readily be allowed
to have been at least equal to those of
any modern nation. Our prejudice is perhaps
rather to overrate them. But except in
what related to military exercises, the state
seems to have been at no pains to form those
great abilities; for I cannot be induced to
believe that the musical education of the
Greeks could be of much consequence in
forming them. Masters, however, had been
found, it seems, for instructing the better
sort of people among those nations, in every
art and science in which the circumstances of
their society rendered it necessary or convenient
for them to be instructed. The demand
for such instruction produced, what it
always produces, the talent for giving it; and
the emulation which an unrestrained competition
never fails to excite, appears to have
brought that talent to a very high degree of
perfection. In the attention which the ancient
philosophers excited, in the empire
which they acquired over the opinions and
principles of their auditors, in the faculty
which they possessed of giving a certain tone
and character to the conduct and conversation
of those auditors, they appear to have been
much superior to any modern teachers. In
modern times, the diligence of public teachers
is more or less corrupted by the circumstances
which render them more or less independent
of their success and reputation in
their particular professions. Their salaries,
too, put the private teacher, who would pretend
to come into competition with them, in
the same state with a merchant who attempts
to trade without a bounty, in competition
with those who trade with a considerable one.
If he sells his goods at nearly the same price,
he cannot have the same profit; and poverty
and beggary at least, if not bankruptcy and
ruin, will infallibly be his lot. If he attempts
to sell them much dearer, he is likely
to have so few customers, that his circumstances
will not be much mended. The privileges
of graduation, besides, are in many
countries necessary, or at least extremely convenient,
to most men of learned professions,
that is, to the far greater part of those who
have occasion for a learned education. But
those privileges can be obtained only by attending
the lectures of the public teachers.
The most careful attendance upon the ablest
instructions of any private teacher cannot always
give any title to demand them. It is
from these different causes that the private
teacher of any of the sciences, which are
commonly taught in universities, is, in modern
times, generally considered as in the
very lowest order of men of letters. A man
of real abilities can scarce find out a more
humiliating or a more unprofitable employment
to turn them to. The endowments of
schools and colleges have in this manner not
only corrupted the diligence of public teachers,
but have rendered it almost impossible
to have any good private ones.
Were there no public institutions for education,
no system, no science, would be
taught, for which there was not some demand,
or which the circumstances of the
times did not render it either necessary or
convenient, or at least fashionable to learn.
A private teacher could never find his account
in teaching either an exploded and antiquated
system of a science acknowledged to be useful,
or a science universally believed to be a
mere useless and pedantic heap of sophistry
and nonsense. Such systems, such sciences,
can subsist nowhere but in those incorporated
societies for education, whose prosperity and
revenue are in a great measure independent
of their industry. Were there no public institutions
for education, a gentleman, after
going through, with application and abilities,
the most complete course of education which
the circumstances of the times were supposed
to afford, could not come into the world completely
ignorant of every thing which is the
common subject of conversation among gentlemen
and men of the world.
There are no public institutions for the
education of women, and there is accordingly
nothing useless, absurd, or fantastical, in the
common course of their education. They are
taught what their parents or guardians judge
it necessary or useful for them to learn, and
they are taught nothing else. Every part of
their education tends evidently to some useful
purpose; either to improve the natural attractions
of their person, or to form their mind
to reserve, to modesty, to chastity, and to
economy; to render them both likely to become
the mistresses of a family, and to behave
properly when they have become such.
In every part of her life, a woman feels some
conveniency or advantage from every part of
her education. It seldom happens that a
man, in any part of his life, derives any conveniency
or advantage from some of the most
laborious and troublesome parts of his education.
Ought the public, therefore, to give no
attention, it may be asked, to the education
of the people? Or, if it ought to give any,
what are the different parts of education
which it ought to attend to in the different
orders of the people? and in what manner
ought it to attend to them?
In some cases, the state of society necessarily
places the greater part of individuals in
such situations as naturally form in them,
without any attention of government, almost
all the abilities and virtues which that state
requires, or perhaps can admit of. In other
cases, the state of the society does not place
the greater part of individuals in such situations;
and some attention of government is
necessary, in order to prevent the almost entire
corruption and degeneracy of the great
body of the people.
In the progress of the division of labour,
the employment of the far greater part of
those who live by labour, that is, of the great
body of the people, comes to be confined to
a few very simple operations; frequently to
one or two. But the understandings of the
greater part of men are necessarily formed
by their ordinary employments. The man
whose whole life is spent in performing a few
simple operations, of which the effects, too,
are perhaps always the same, or very nearly
the same, has no occasion to exert his understanding,
or to exercise his invention, in
finding out expedients for removing difficulties
which never occur. He naturally loses,
therefore, the habit of such exertion, and generally
becomes as stupid and ignorant as it
is possible for a human creature to become.
The torpor of his mind renders him not only
incapable of relishing or bearing a part in
any rational conversation, but of conceiving
any generous, noble, or tender sentiment,
and consequently of forming any just judgment
concerning many even of the ordinary
duties of private life. Of the great and extensive
interests of his country he is altogether
incapable of judging; and unless very
particular pains have been taken to render
him otherwise, he is equally incapable of defending
his country in war. The uniformity
of his stationary life naturally corrupts the
courage of his mind, and makes him regard,
with abhorrence, the irregular, uncertain, and
adventurous life of a soldier. It corrupts
even the activity of his body, and renders
him incapable of exerting his strength with
vigour and perseverance in any other employment,
than that to which he has been bred.
His dexterity at his own particular trade
seems, in this manner, to be acquired at the
expense of his intellectual, social, and martial
virtues. But in every improved and civilized
society, this is the state into which the labouring
poor, that is, the great body of the
people, must necessarily fall, unless government
takes some pains to prevent it.
It is otherwise in the barbarous societies, as
they are commonly called, of hunters, of shepherds,
and even of husbandmen in that rude
state of husbandry which precedes the improvement
of manufactures, and the extension
of foreign commerce. In such societies, the
varied occupations of every man oblige every
man to exert his capacity, and to invent expedients
for removing difficulties which are
continually occurring. Invention is kept
alive, and the mind is not suffered to fall into
that drowsy stupidity, which, in a civilized
society, seems to benumb the understanding
of almost all the inferior ranks of people.
In those barbarous societies, as they are called,
every man, it has already been observed,
is a warrior. Every man, too, is in some
measure a statesman, and can form a tolerable
judgment concerning the interest of the
society, and the conduct of those who govern
it. How far their chiefs are good judges in
peace, or good leaders in war, is obvious to
the observation of almost every single man
among them. In such a society, indeed, no
man can well acquire that improved and refined
understanding which a few men sometimes
possess in a more civilized state.
Though in a rude society there is a good
deal of variety in the occupations of every
individual, there is not a great deal in those
of the whole society. Every man does, or is
capable of doing, almost every thing which
any other man does, or is capable of doing.
Every man has a considerable degree of
knowledge, ingenuity, and invention; but
scarce any man has a great degree. The degree,
however, which is commonly possessed,
is generally sufficient for conducting the
whole simple business of the society. In a
civilized state, on the contrary, though there
is little variety in the occupations of the
greater part of individuals, there is an almost
infinite variety in those of the whole society.
These varied occupations present an almost
infinite variety of objects to the contemplation
of those few, who, being attached to no
particular occupation themselves, have leisure
and inclination to examine the occupations
of other people. The contemplation of so
great a variety of objects necessarily exercises
their minds in endless comparisons end combinations,
and renders their understandings,
in an extraordinary degree, both acute and
comprehensive. Unless those few, however,
happen to be placed in some very particular
situations, their great abilities, though honourable
to themselves, may contribute very
little to the good government or happiness of
their society. Notwithstanding the great abilities
of those few, all the nobler parts of the
human character may be, in a great measure,
obliterated end extinguished in the great
body of the people.
The education of the common people requires,
perhaps, in a civilized and commercial
society, the attention of the public, more than
that of people of some rank and fortune.
People of some rank and fortune are generally
eighteen or nineteen years of age, before
they enter upon that particular business, profession,
or trade, by which they propose to
distinguish themselves in the world. They
have, before that, full time to acquire, or at
least to fit themselves for afterwards acquiring,
every accomplishment which can recommend
them to the public esteem, or render
them worthy of it. Their parents or guardians
are generally sufficiently anxious that
they should be so accomplished, and are, in
most cases, willing enough to lay out the expense
which is necessary for that purpose. If
they are not always properly educated, it is
seldom from the want of expense laid out upon
their education, but from the improper application
of that expense. It is seldom from
the want of masters, but from the negligence
and incapacity of the masters who are to be
had, and from the difficulty, or rather from
the impossibility, which there is, in the present
state of things, of finding any better.
The employments, too, in which people of
some rank or fortune spend the greater part
of their lives, are not, like those of the common
people, simple and uniform. They are
almost all of them extremely complicated,
and such as exercise the head more than the
hands. The understandings of those who are
engaged in such employments, can seldom
grow torpid for want of exercise. The
employments of people of some rank and fortune,
besides, are seldom such as harass them
from morning to night. They generally have
a good deal of leisure, during which they
may perfect themselves in every branch, either
of useful or ornamental knowledge, of which
they may have laid the foundation, or for
which they may have acquired some taste in
the earlier part of life.
It is otherwise with the common people.
They have little time to spare for education.
Their parents can scarce afford to maintain
them, even in infancy. As soon as they are
able to work, they must apply to some trade,
by which they can earn their subsistence.
That trade, too, is generally so simple and
uniform, as to give little exercise to the understanding;
while, at the same time, their
labour is both so constant and so severe, that
it leaves them little leisure and less inclination
to apply to, or even to think of any thing
else.
But though the common people cannot, in
any civilized society, be so well instructed as
people of some rank and fortune; the most
essential parts of education, however, to read,
write, and account, can be acquired at so
early a period of life, that the greater part,
even of those who are to be bred to the lowest
occupations, have time to acquire them before
they can be employed in those occupations.
For a very small expense, the public can facilitate,
can encourage, and can even impose
upon almost the whole body of the people, the
necessity of acquiring those most essential
parts of education.
The public can facilitate this acquisition,
by establishing in every parish or district a
little school, where children may be taught
for a reward so moderate, that even a common
labourer may afford it; the master being partly,
but not wholly, paid by the public; because, if
he was wholly, or even principally, paid by it,
he would soon learn to neglect his business.
In Scotland, the establishment of such parish
schools has taught almost the whole common
people to read, and a very great proportion of
them to write and account. In England, the
establishment of charity schools has had an
effect of the same kind, though not so universally,
because the establishment is not so
universal. If, in those little schools, the
books by which the children are taught to
read, were a little more instructive than they
commonly are; and if, instead of a little
smattering in Latin, which the children of the
common people are sometimes taught there,
and which can scarce ever be of any use to
them, they were instructed in the elementary
parts of geometry and mechanics; the literary
education of this rank of people would, perhaps,
be as complete as can be. There is
scarce a common trade, which does not afford
some opportunities of applying to it the principles
of geometry and mechanics, and which
would not, therefore, gradually exercise and
improve the common people in those principles,
the necessary introduction to the most
sublime, as well as to the most useful sciences.
The public can encourage the acquisition
of those most essential parts of education, by
giving small premiums, and little badges of
distinction, to the children of the common
people who excel in them.
The public can impose upon almost the
whole body of the people the necessity of acquiring
the most essential parts of education,
by obliging every man to undergo an examination
or probation in them, before he can
obtain the freedom in any corporation, or be
allowed to set up any trade, either in a village
or town corporate.
It was in this manner, by facilitating the
acquisition of their military and gymnastic
exercises, by encouraging it, and even by imposing
upon the whole body of the people the
necessity of learning those exercises, that the
Greek and Roman republics maintained the
martial spirit of their respective citizens. They
facilitated the acquisition of those exercises,
by appointing a certain place for learning and
practising them, and by granting to certain
masters the privilege of teaching in that place.
Those masters do not appear to have had either
salaries or exclusive privileges of any
kind. Their reward consisted altogether in
what they got from their scholars; and a citizen,
who had learnt his exercises in the public
gymnasia, had no sort of legal advantage
over one who had learnt them privately, provided
the latter had learned them equally
well. Those republics encouraged the acquisition
of those exercises, by bestowing little
premiums and badges of distinction upon those
who excelled in them. To have gained a
prize in the Olympic, Isthmian, or Nemæan
games, gave illustration, not only to the person
who gained it, but to his whole family and
kindred. The obligation which every citizen
was under, to serve a certain number of years,
if called upon, in the armies of the republic,
sufficient imposed the necessity of learning
those exercises, without which he could not
be fit for that service.
That in the progress of improvement, the
practice of military exercises, unless government
takes proper pains to support it, goes
gradually to decay, and, together with it, the
martial spirit of the great body of the people,
the example of modern Europe sufficiently
demonstrates. But the security of every society
must always depend, more or less, upon the
martial spirit of the great body of the people.
In the present times, indeed, that martial spirit
alone, and unsupported by a well-disciplined
standing army, would not, perhaps, be sufficient
for the defence and security of any society.
But where every citizen had the spirit
of a soldier, a smaller standing army would
surely be requisite. That spirit, besides, would
necessarily diminish very much the dangers
to liberty, whether real or imaginary, which
are commonly apprehended from a standing
army. As it would very much facilitate the
operations of that army against a foreign invader;
so it would obstruct them as much, if
unfortunately they should ever be directed
against the constitution of the state.
The ancient institutions of Greece and
Rome seem to have been much more effectual
for maintaining the martial spirit of the great
body of the people, than the establishment of
what are called the militias of modern times.
They were much more simple. When they
were once established, they executed themselves,
and it required little or no attention
from government to maintain them in the
most perfect vigour. Whereas to maintain,
even in tolerable execution, the complex regulations
of any modern militia, requires the
continual and painful attention of government,
without which they are constantly falling
into total neglect and disuse. The influence,
besides, of the ancient institutions, was
much more universal. By means of them, the
whole body of the people was completely instructed
in the use of arms; whereas it is but
a very small part of them who can ever be
so instructed by the regulations of any modern
militia, except, perhaps, that of Switzerland.
But a coward, a man incapable either
of defending or of revenging himself, evidently
wants one of the most essential parts
of the character of a man. He is as much
mutilated and deformed in his mind as another
is in his body, who is either deprived of
some of its most essential members, or has
lost the use of them. He is evidently the
more wretched and miserable of the two; because
happiness and misery, which reside altogether
in the mind, must necessarily depend
more upon the healthful or unhealthful, the
mutilated or entire state of the mind, than
upon that of the body. Even though the martial
spirit of the people were of no use towards
the defence of the society, yet, to prevent
that sort of mental mutilation, deformity, and
wretchedness, which cowardice necessarily involves
in it, from spreading themselves through
the great body of the people, would still deserve
the most serious attention of government;
in the same manner as it would deserve
its most serious attention to prevent a
leprosy, or any other loathsome and offensive
disease, though neither mortal nor dangerous,
from spreading itself among them; though,
perhaps, no other public good might result
from such attention, besides the prevention of
so great a public evil.
The same thing may be said of the gross
ignorance and stupidity which, in a civilized
society, seem so frequently to benumb the
understandings of all the inferior ranks of
people. A man without the proper use of the
intellectual faculties of a man, is, if possible,
more contemptible than even a coward, and
seems to be mutilated and deformed in a still
more essential part of the character of human
nature. Though the state was to derive no
advantage from the instruction of the inferior
ranks of people, it would still deserve its attention
that they should not be altogether uninstructed.
The state, however, derives no
inconsiderable advantage from their instruction.
The more they are instructed, the less
liable they are to the delusions of enthusiasm
and superstition, which, among ignorant nations
frequently occasion the most dreadful
disorders. An instructed and intelligent people,
besides, are always more decent and orderly
than an ignorant and stupid one. They
feel themselves, each individually, more respectable,
and more likely to obtain the respect
of their lawful superiors, and they are,
therefore, more disposed to respect those superiors.
They are more disposed to examine,
and more capable of seeing through, the interested
complaints of faction and sedition;
and they are, upon that account, less apt to
be misled into any wanton or unnecessary opposition
to the measures of government. In
free countries, where the safety of government
depends very much upon the favourable
judgment which the people may form
of its conduct, it must surely be of the highest
importance, that they should not be disposed
to judge rashly or capriciously concerning it.
The institutions for the instruction of people
of all ages, are chiefly those for religious
instruction. This is a species of instruction,
which the object is not so much to render
the people good citizens in this world, as to
prepare them for another and a better world
in the life to come. The teachers of the
doctrine which contains this instruction, in
the same manner as other teachers, may either
depend altogether for their subsistence upon
the voluntary contributions of their hearers;
or they may derive it from some other fund,
to which the law of their country may entitle
them; such as a landed estate, a tythe or
land tax, an established salary or stipend.
Their exertion, their zeal and industry, are
likely to be much greater in the former situation
than in the latter. In this respect, the
teachers of a new religion have always had a
considerable advantage in attacking these ancient
and established systems, of which the
clergy, reposing themselves upon their benefices,
had neglected to keep up the fervour of
faith and devotion in the great body of the
people; and having given themselves up to
indolence, were become altogether incapable
of making any vigorous exertion in defence
even of their own establishment. The clergy
of an established and well endowed religion
frequently become men of learning and elegance,
who possess all the virtues of gentlemen,
or which can recommend them to the
esteem of gentlemen; but they are apt gradually
to lose the qualities, both good and
bad, which gave them authority and influence
with the inferior ranks of people, and which
had perhaps been the original causes of the
success and establishment of their religion.
Such a clergy, when attacked by a set of popular
and bold, though perhaps stupid and
ignorant enthusiasts, feel themselves as perfectly
defenceless as the indolent, effeminate, and
full fed nations of the southern parts of Asia,
when they were invaded by the active, hardy,
and hungry Tartars of the north. Such a
clergy, upon such an emergency, have commonly
no other resource than to call upon the
civil magistrate to persecute, destroy, or
drive out their adversaries, as disturbers of
the public peace. It was thus that the Roman
catholic clergy called upon the civil
magistrate to persecute the protestants, and
the church of England to persecute the dissenters;
and that in general every religious
sect, when it has once enjoyed, for a century
or two, the security of a legal establishment,
has found itself incapable of making any
vigorous defence against any new sect which
chose to attack its doctrine or discipline.
Upon such occasions, the advantage, in point
of learning and good writing, may sometimes
be on the side of the established church.
But the arts of popularity, all the arts of
gaining proselytes, are constantly on the side
of its adversaries. In England, those arts
have been long neglected by the well endowed
clergy of the established church, and are
at present chiefly cultivated by the dissenters
and by the methodists. The independent
provisions, however, which in many places
have been made for dissenting teachers, by
means of voluntary subscriptions, of trust
rights, and other evasions of the law, seem
very much to have abated the zeal and activity
of those teachers. They have many of
them become very learned, ingenious, and
respectable men; but they have in general
ceased to be very popular preachers. The
methodists, without half the learning of the
dissenters, are much more in vogue.
In the church of Rome the industry and
zeal of the inferior clergy are kept more alive
by the powerful motive of self-interest, than
perhaps in any established protestant church.
The parochial clergy derive many of them, a
very considerable part of their subsistence
from the voluntary oblations of the people;
a source of revenue, which confession gives
them many opportunities of improving. The
mendicant orders derive their whole subsistence
from such oblations. It is with them
as with the hussars and light infantry of some
armies; no plunder, no pay. The parochial
clergy are like those teachers whose reward
depends partly upon their salary, and partly
upon the fees or honoraries which they get
from their pupils; and these must always depend,
more or less, upon their industry and
reputation. The mendicant orders are like
those teachers whose subsistence depends
altogether upon their industry. They are
obliged, therefore, to use every art which can
animate the devotion of the common people.
The establishment of the two great mendicant
orders of St. Dominic and St. Francis, it is
observed by Machiavel, revived, in the thirteenth
and fourteenth centuries, the languishing
faith and devotion of the catholic church.
In Roman catholic countries, the spirit of
devotion is supported altogether by the
monks, and by the poorer parochial clergy.
The great dignitaries of the church, with all
the accomplishments of gentlemen and men
of the world, and sometimes with those of
men of learning, are careful to maintain the
necessary discipline over their inferiors, but
seldom give themselves any trouble about the
instruction of the people.
"Most of the arts and professions in a
state," says by far the most illustrious philosopher
and historian of the present age, "are
of such a nature, that, while they promote the
interests of the society, they are also useful
or agreeable to some individuals; and, in
that case, the constant rule of the magistrate,
except, perhaps, on the first introduction of
any art, is, to leave the profession to itself,
and trust its encouragement to the individuals
who reap the benefit of it. The artisans,
finding their profits to rise by the favour
of their customers, increase, as much as possible,
their skill and industry; and as matters
are not disturbed by any injudicious tampering,
the commodity is always sure to be at
all times nearly proportioned to the demand."
"But there are also some callings which,
though useful and even necessary in a state,
bring no advantage or pleasure to any individual;
and the supreme power is obliged to
alter its conduct with regard to the retainers
of those professions. It must give them
public encouragement in order to their subsistence;
and it must provide against that
negligence to which they will naturally be
subject, either by annexing particular honours
to profession, by establishing a long
subordination of ranks, and a strict dependence,
or by some other expedient. The
persons employed in the finances, fleets, and
magistracy, are instances of this order of
men.
"It may naturally be thought, at first
sight, that the ecclesiastics belong to the first
class, and that their encouragement, as well
as that of lawyers and physicians, may safely
be entrusted to the liberality of individuals,
who are attached to their doctrines, and who
find benefit or consolation from their spiritual
ministry and assistance. Their industry and
vigilance will, no doubt, be whetted by such
an additional motive; and their skill in the
profession, as well as their address in governing
the minds of the people, must receive
daily increase, from their increasing practice,
study, and attention.
"But if we consider the matter more closely,
we shall find that this interested diligence
of the clergy is what every wise legislator will
study to prevent; because, in every religion
except the true, it is highly pernicious, and it
has even a natural tendency to pervert the
truth, by infusing into it a strong mixture of
superstition, folly, and delusion. Each
ghostly practitioner, in order to render himself
more precious and sacred in the eyes of
his retainers, will inspire them with the most
violent abhorrence of all other sects, and
continually endeavour, by some novelty, to
excite the languid devotion of his audience.
No regard will be paid to truth, morals, or
decency, in the doctrines inculcated. Every
tenet will be adopted that best suits the disorderly
affections of the human frame. Customers
will be drawn in each conventicle by
new industry and address, in practising on
the passions and credulity of the populace.
And, in the end, the civil magistrate will find
that he has dearly paid for his intended frugality,
in saving a fixed establishment for the
priests; and that, in reality, the most decent
and advantageous composition, which he can
make with the spiritual guides, is to bribe
their indolence, by assigning stated salaries
to their profession, and rendering it superfluous
for them to be farther active, than
merely to prevent their flock from straying in
quest of new pastors. And in this manner
ecclesiastical establishments, though commonly
they arose at first from religious views,
prove in the end advantageous to the political
interests of society."
But whatever may have been the good or
bad effects of the independent provision of
the clergy, it has, perhaps, been very seldom
bestowed upon them from any view to those
effects. Times of violent religious controversy
have generally been times of equally
violent political faction. Upon such occasions,
each political party has either found it,
or imagined it, for his interest, to league itself
with some one or other of the contending
religious sects. But this could be done only
by adopting, or, at least, by favouring the
tenets of that particular sect. The sect
which had the good fortune to be leagued
with the conquering party necessarily shared
in the victory of its ally, by whose favour
and protection it was soon enabled, in some
degree, to silence and subdue all its adversaries.
Those adversaries had generally leagued
themselves with the enemies of the conquering
party, and were, therefore the enemies
of that party. The clergy of this particular
sect having thus become complete masters of
the field, and their influence and authority
with the great body of the people being in
its highest vigour, they were powerful enough
to overawe the chiefs and leaders of their
own party, and to oblige the civil magistrate
to respect their opinions and inclinations.
Their first demand was generally that he
should silence and subdue all their adversaries;
and their second, that he should bestow
an independent provision on themselves.
As they had generally contributed a good
deal to the victory, it seemed not unreasonable
that they should have some share in the
spoil. They were weary, besides, of humouring
the people, and of depending upon
their caprice for a subsistence. In making
this demand, therefore, they consulted their
own ease and comfort, without troubling
themselves about the effect which it might
have, in future times, upon the influence and
authority of their order. The civil magistrate,
who could comply with their demand
only by giving them something which he
would have chosen much rather to take, or
to keep to himself, was seldom very forward
to grant it. Necessity, however, always
forced him to submit at last, though frequently
not till after many delays, evasions, and
affected excuses.
But if politics had never called in the aid
of religion, had the conquering party never
adopted the tenets of one sect more than
those of another, when it had gained the
victory, it would probably have dealt equally
and impartially with all the different sects,
and have allowed every man to choose his
own priest, and his own religion, as he
thought proper. There would, and, in this
case, no doubt, have been, a great multitude
of religious sects. Almost every different
congregation might probably have had a
little sect by itself, or have entertained some
peculiar tenets of its own. Each teacher,
would, no doubt, have felt himself under the
necessity of making the utmost exertion,
and of using every art, both to preserve and
to increase the number of his disciples. But
as every other teacher would have felt himself
under the same necessity, the success of
no one teacher, or sect of teachers, could have
been very great. The interested and active
zeal of religious teachers can be dangerous
and troublesome only where there is either
but one sect tolerated in the society, or
where the whole of a large society is divided
into two or three great sects; the teachers
of each acting by concert, and under a
regular discipline and subordination. But
that zeal must be altogether innocent, where
the society is divided into two or three hundred,
or, perhaps, into as many thousand
small sects, of which no one could be considerable
enough to disturb the public tranquillity.
The teachers of each sect, seeing
themselves surrounded on all sides with more
adversaries than friends, would be obliged to
learn that candour and moderation which are
so seldom to be found among the teachers of
those great sects, whose tenets, being supported
by the civil magistrate, are held in veneration
by almost all the inhabitants of extensive
kingdoms and empires, and who, therefore,
see nothing round them but followers,
disciples, and humble admirers. The teachers
of each little sect, finding themselves almost
alone, would be obliged to respect those of
almost every other sect; and the concessions
which they would mutually find in both convenient
and agreeable to make one to another,
might in time, probably reduce the
doctrine of the greater part of them to that
pure and rational religion, free from every
mixture of absurdity, imposture, or fanaticism,
such as wise men have, in all ages of the world,
wished to see established; but such as positive
law has, perhaps, never yet established, and
probably never will establish in any country;
because, with regard to religion, positive law
always has been, and probably always will
be, more or less influenced by popular superstition
and enthusiasm. This plan of
ecclesiastical government, or, more properly,
of no ecclesiastical government, was what
the sect called Independents (a sect, no
doubt, of very wild enthusiasts), proposed to
establish in England towards the end of the
civil war. If it had been established, though
of a very unphilosophical origin, it would
probably, by this time, have been productive
of the most philosophical good temper and
moderation with regard to every sort of religious
principle. It has been established in
Pennsylvania, where, though the quakers
happen to be the most numerous, the law, in
reality, favours no one sect more than another;
and it is there said to have been productive
of this philosophical good temper and
moderation.
But though this equality of treatment
should not be productive of this good temper
and moderation in all, or even in the greater
part of the religious sects of a particular
country; yet, provided those sects were sufficiently
numerous, and each of them consequently
too small to disturb the public
tranquillity, the excessive zeal of each for its
particular tenets could not well be productive
of any very hurtful effects, but, on the contrary,
of several good ones; and if the government
was perfectly decided, both to let
them all alone, and to oblige them all to let
alone one another, there is little danger that
they would not of their own accord, subdivide
themselves fast enough, so as soon to
become sufficiently numerous.
In every civilized society, in every society
where the distinction of ranks has once been
completely established, there have been always
two different schemes or systems of morality
current at the same time; of which the one
may be called the strict or austere; the
other the liberal, or, if you will, the loose
system. The former is generally admired
and revered by the common people; the
latter is commonly more esteemed and adopted
by what are called the people of fashion.
The degree of disapprobation with which we
ought to mark the vices of levity, the vices
which are apt to arise from great prosperity,
and from the excess of gaiety and good humour,
seems to constitute the principal distinction
between those two opposite schemes
or systems. In the liberal or loose system,
luxury, wanton, and even disorderly mirth,
the pursuit of pleasure to some degree of
intemperance, the breach of chastity, at least
in one of the two sexes, &c. provided they
are not accompanied with gross indecency,
and do not lead to falsehood and injustice, are
generally treated with a good deal of indulgence,
and are easily either excused or pardoned
altogether. In the austere system, on
the contrary, those excesses are regarded with
the utmost abhorrence and detestation. The
vices of levity are always ruinous to the common
people, and a single week's thoughtlessness
and dissipation is often sufficient to
undo a poor workman for ever, and to drive
him, through despair, upon committing the
most enormous crimes. The wiser and better
sort of the common people, therefore,
have always the utmost abhorrence and
detestation of such excesses, which their
experience tells them are so immediately fatal to
people of their condition. The disorder and
extravagance of several years, on the contrary,
will not always ruin a man of fashion;
and people of that rank are very apt to consider
the power of indulging in some degree
of excess, as one of the advantages of their
fortune; and the liberty of doing so without
censure or reproach, as one of the privileges
which belong to their station. In people of
their own station, therefore, they regard such
excesses with but a small degree of disapprobation,
and censure them either very slightly
or not at all.
Almost all religious sects have begun
among the common people, from whom they
have generally drawn their earliest, as well
as their most numerous proselytes. The austere
system of morality has, accordingly,
been adopted by those sects almost constantly,
or with very few exceptions; for there
have been some. It was the system by which
they could best recommend themselves to that
order of people, to whom they first proposed
their plan of reformation upon what had been
before established. Many of them, perhaps
the greater part of them, have even endeavoured
to gain credit by refining upon this
austere system, and by carrying it to some
degree of folly and extravagance; and this
excessive rigour has frequently recommended
them, more than any thing else, to the respect
and veneration of the common people.
A man of rank and fortune is, by his station,
the distinguished member of a great society,
who attend to every part of his conduct,
and who thereby oblige him to attend to every
part of it himself. His authority and consideration
depend very much upon the respect
which this society bears to him. He dares
not do any thing which would disgrace or
discredit him in it; and he is obliged to a
very strict observation of that species of
morals, whether liberal or austere, which the
general consent of this society prescribes to
persons of his rank and fortune. A man of
low condition, on the contrary, is far from
being a distinguished member of any great
society. While he remains in a country village,
his conduct may be attended to, and he
may be obliged to attend to it himself. In
this situation, and in this situation only, he
may have what is called a character to lose.
But as soon as he comes into a great city, he
is sunk in obscurity and darkness. His conduct
is observed and attended to by nobody;
and he is, therefore, very likely to neglect it
himself, and to abandon himself to every sort
of low profligacy and vice. He never
emerges so effectually from this obscurity, his
conduct never excites so much the attention
of any respectable society, as by his becoming
the member of a small religious sect.
He from that moment acquires a degree of
consideration which he never had before.
All his brother sectaries are, for the credit of
the sect, interested to observe his conduct;
and, if he gives occasion to any scandal, if
he deviates very much from those austere
morals which they almost always require of
one another, to punish him by what is always
a very severe punishment, even where no evil
effects attend it, expulsion or excommunication
from the sect. In little religious sects,
accordingly, the morals of the common people
have been almost always remarkably regular
and orderly; generally much more so
than in the established church. The morals
of those little sects, indeed, have frequently
been rather disagreeably rigorous and unsocial.
There are two very easy and effectual remedies,
however, by whose joint operation
the state might, without violence, correct
whatever was unsocial or disagreeably rigorous
in the morals of all the little sects into
which the country was divided.
The first of those remedies is the study of
science and philosophy, which the state might
render almost universal among all people of
middling or more than middling rank and
fortune; not by giving salaries to teachers in
order to make them negligent and idle, but
by instituting some sort of probation, even in
the higher and more difficult sciences, to be
undergone by every person before he was permitted
to exercise any liberal profession, or
before he could be received as a candidate for
any honourable office, of trust or profit. If
the state imposed upon this order of men the
necessity of learning, it would have no occasion
to give itself any trouble about providing
them with proper teachers. They would
soon find better teachers for themselves, than
any whom the state could provide for them.
Science is the great antidote to the poison of
enthusiasm and superstition; and where all
the superior ranks of people were secured
from it, the inferior ranks could not be much
exposed to it.
The second of those remedies is the frequency
and gaiety of public diversions. The
state, by encouraging, that is, by giving entire
liberty to all those who, from their own
interest, would attempt, without scandal or
indecency, to amuse and divert the people
by painting, poetry, music, dancing; by all
sorts of dramatic representations and exhibitions;
would easily dissipate, in the greater
part of them, that melancholy and gloomy
humour which is almost always the nurse of
popular superstition and enthusiasm. Public
diversions have always been the objects of
dread and hatred to all the fanatical promoters
of those popular frenzies. The gaiety and
good humour which those diversions inspire,
were altogether inconsistent with that temper
of mind which was fittest for their purpose,
or which they could best work upon. Dramatic
representations, besides, frequently exposing
their artifices to public ridicule, and
sometimes even to public execration, were,
upon that account, more than all other diversions,
the objects of their peculiar abhorrence.
In a country where the law favoured the
teachers of no one religion more than those
of another, it would not be necessary that
any of them should have any particular or
immediate dependency upon the sovereign or
executive power; or that he should have any
thing to do either in appointing or in dismissing
them from their offices. In such a situation,
he would have no occasion to give
himself any concern about them, further than
to keep the peace among them, in the same
manner as among the rest of his subjects,
that is, to hinder them from persecuting,
abusing, or oppressing one another. But it
is quite otherwise in countries where there is
an established or governing religion. The
sovereign can in this case never be secure,
unless he has the means of influencing in a
considerable degree the greater part of the
teachers of that religion.
The clergy of every established church
constitute a great incorporation. They can
act in concert, and pursue their interest upon
one plan, and with one spirit as much as if
they were under the direction of one man;
and they are frequently, too, under such
direction. Their interest as an incorporated
body is never the same with that of the sovereign,
and is sometimes directly opposite to
it. Their great interest is to maintain their
authority with the people, and this authority
depends upon the supposed certainty and
importance of the whole doctrine which they
inculcate, and upon the supposed necessity
of adopting every part of it with the most implicit
faith, in order to avoid eternal misery.
Should the sovereign have the imprudence
to appear either to deride, or doubt himself
of the most trifling part of their doctrine, or
from humanity, attempt to protect those who
did either the one or the other, the punctilious
honour of a clergy, who have no sort of
dependency upon him, is immediately provoked
to proscribe him as a profane person,
and to employ all the terrors of religion, in
order to oblige the people to transfer their
allegiance to some more orthodox and obedient
prince. Should he oppose any of their
pretensions or usurpations, the danger is
equally great. The princes who have dared
in this manner to rebel against the church,
over and above this crime of rebellion, have
generally been charged, too, with the additional
crime of heresy, notwithstanding their
solemn protestations of their faith, and humble
submission to every tenet which she
thought proper to prescribe to them. But
the authority of religion is superior to every
other authority. The fears which it suggests
conquer all other fears. When the authorized
teachers of religion propagate through
the great body of the people, doctrines subversive
of the authority of the sovereign, it is
by violence only, or by the force of a standing
army, that he can maintain his authority.
Even a standing army cannot in this case give
him any lasting security; because if the soldiers
are not foreigners, which can seldom be
the case, but drawn from the great body of
the people, which must almost always be the
case, they are likely to be soon corrupted by
those very doctrines. The revolutions which
the turbulence of the Greek clergy was continually
occasioning at Constantinople, as
long as the eastern empire subsisted; the
convulsions which, during the course of several
centuries, the turbulence of the Roman
clergy was continually occasioning in every
part of Europe, sufficiently demonstrate how
precarious and insecure must always be the
situation of the sovereign, who has no proper
means of influencing the clergy of the established
and governing religion of his country.
Articles of faith, as well as all other spiritual
matters, it is evident enough, are not
within the proper department of a temporal
sovereign, who, though he may be very well
qualified for protecting, is seldom supposed
to be so for instructing the people. With
regard to such matters, therefore, his authority
can seldom be sufficient to counterbalance
the united authority of the clergy of the established
church. The public tranquillity,
however, and his own security, may frequently
depend upon the doctrines which
they may think proper to propagate concerning
such matters. As he can seldom directly oppose
their decision, therefore, with proper weight
and authority, it is necessary that he should
be able to influence it; and he can influence
it only by the fears and expectations which
he may excite in the greater part of the individuals
of the order. Those fears and expectations
may consist in the fear of deprivation
or other punishment, and in the expectation
of further preferment.
In all Christian churches, the benefices of
the clergy are a sort of freeholds, which they
enjoy, not during pleasure, but during life or
good behaviour. If they held them by a
more precarious tenure, and were liable to be
turned out upon every slight disobligation
either of the sovereign or of his ministers, it
would perhaps be impossible for them to
maintain their authority with the people, who
would then consider them as mercenary
dependents upon the court, in the sincerity of
whose instructions they could no longer have
any confidence. But should the sovereign
attempt irregularly, and by violence, to deprive
any number of clergymen of their freeholds,
on account, perhaps, of their having
propagated, with more than ordinary zeal,
some factious or seditious doctrine, he would
only render, by such persecution, both them
and their doctrine ten times more popular,
and therefore ten times more troublesome and
dangerous, than they had been before. Fear
is in almost all cases a wretched instrument
of government, and ought in particular never
to be employed against any order of men who
have the smallest pretensions to independency.
To attempt to terrify them, serves only to
irritate their bad humour, and to confirm
them in an opposition, which more gentle
usage, perhaps, might easily induce them
either to soften, or to lay aside altogether.
The violence which the French government
usually employed in order to oblige all their
parliaments, or sovereign courts of justice,
to enregister any unpopular edict, very seldom
succeeded. The means commonly employed,
however, the imprisonment of all the
refractory members, one would think, were
forcible enough. The princes of the house
of Stuart sometimes employed the like means
in order to influence some of the members of
the parliament of England, and they generally
found them equally intractable. The parliament
of England is now managed in another
manner; and a very small experiment,
which the duke of Choiseul made, about
twelve years ago, upon the parliament of
Paris, demonstrated sufficiently that all the
parliaments of France might have been managed
still more easily in the same manner.
That experiment was not pursued. For
though management and persuasion are always
the easiest and safest instruments of
government as force and violence are the
worst and the most dangerous; yet such, it
seems, is the natural insolence of man, that
he almost always disdains to use the good instrument,
except when he cannot or dare not
use the bad one. The French government
could and durst use force, and therefore disdained
to use management and persuasion.
But there is no order of men, it appears I
believe, from the experience of all ages, upon
whom it is so dangerous or rather so perfectly
ruinous, to employ force and violence, as upon
the respected clergy of an established
church. The rights, the privileges, the personal
liberty of every individual ecclesiastic,
who is upon good terms with his own order,
are, even in the most despotic governments,
more respected than those of any other person
of nearly equal rank and fortune. It is so in
every gradation of despotism, from that of the
gentle and mild government of Paris, to that
of the violent and furious government of Constantinople.
But though this order of men
can scarce ever be forced, they may be managed
as easily as any other; and the security
of the sovereign, as well as the public tranquillity,
seems to depend very much upon the
means which he has of managing them; and
those means seem to consist altogether in the
preferment which he has to bestow upon them.
In the ancient constitution of the Christian
church, the bishop of each diocese was elected
by the joint votes of the clergy and of the
people of the episcopal city. The people did
not long retain their right of election; and
while they did retain it, they almost always
acted under the influence of the clergy, who,
in such spiritual matters, appeared to be their
natural guides. The clergy, however, soon
grew weary of the trouble of managing them,
and found it easier to elect their own bishops
themselves. The abbot, in the same manner,
was elected by the monks of the monastery,
at least in the greater part of abbacies. All
the inferior ecclesiastical benefices comprehended
within the diocese were collated by
the bishop, who bestowed them upon such
ecclesiastics as he thought proper. All church
preferments were in this manner in the disposal
of the church. The sovereign, though
he might have some indirect influence in those
elections, and though it was sometimes usual
to ask both his consent to elect, and his approbation
of the election, yet had no direct or
sufficient means of managing the clergy. The
ambition of every clergyman naturally led him
to pay court, not so much to his sovereign as
to his own order, from which only he could
expect preferment.
Through the greater part of Europe, the
pope gradually drew to himself, first the collation
of almost all bishoprics and abbacies,
or of what were called consistorial benefices,
and afterwards, by various machinations
and pretences, of the greater part of inferior
benefices comprehended within each diocese,
little more being left to the bishop than what
was barely necessary to give him a decent
authority with his own clergy. By this arrangement
the condition of the sovereign was
still worse than it bad been before. The clergy
of all the different countries of Europe were
thus formed into a sort of spiritual army, dispersed
in different quarters, indeed, but of
which all the movements and operations could
now be directed by one head, and conducted upon
one uniform plan. The clergy of each particular
country might be considered as a particular
detachment of that army, of which the
operations could easily be supported and seconded
by all the other detachments quartered
in the different countries round about. Each
detachment was not only independent of the
sovereign of the country in which it was quartered,
and by which it was maintained, but
dependent upon a foreign sovereign, who
could at any time turn its arms against the
sovereign of that particular country, and support
them by the arms of all the other detachments.
Those arms were the most formidable that
can well be imagined. In the ancient state
of Europe, before the establishment of arts
and manufactures, the wealth of the clergy
gave them the same sort of influence over the
common people which that of the great barons
gave them over their respective vassals,
tenants, and retainers. In the great landed
estates, which the mistaken piety both of
princes and private persons had bestowed upon
the church, jurisdictions were established, of
the same kind with those of the great barons,
and for the same reason. In those great landed
estates, the clergy, or their bailiffs, could easily
keep the peace, without the support or
assistance either of the king or of any other
person; and neither the king nor any other
person could keep the peace there without the
support and assistance of the clergy. The jurisdictions
of the clergy, therefore, in their
particular baronies or manors, were equally
independent, and equally exclusive of the authority
of the king's courts, as those of the
great temporal lords. The tenants of the
clergy were, like those of the great barons,
almost all tenants at will, entirely dependent
upon their immediate lords, and, therefore,
liable to be called out at pleasure, in order to
fight in any quarrel in which the clergy might
think proper to engage them. Over and
above the rents of those estates, the clergy possessed
in the tithes a very large portion of the
rents of all the other estates in every kingdom
of Europe. The revenues arising from both
those species of rents were, the greater part of
them, paid in kind, in corn, wine, cattle, poultry,
&c. The quantity exceeded greatly what
the clergy could themselves consume; and
there were neither arts nor manufactures, for
the produce of which they could exchange
the surplus. The clergy could derive advantage
from this immense surplus in no other
way than by employing it, as the great barons
employed the like surplus of their revenues,
in the most profuse hospitality, and in
the most extensive charity. Both the hospitality
and the charity of the ancient clergy,
accordingly, are said to have been very great.
They not only maintained almost the whole
poor of every kingdom, but many knights and
gentlemen had frequently no other means of
subsistence than by travelling about from monastery
to monastery, under pretence of devotion,
but in reality to enjoy the hospitality of
the clergy. The retainers of some particular
prelates were often as numerous as those of
the greatest lay-lords; and the retainers of all
the clergy taken together were, perhaps, more
numerous than those of all the lay-lords.
There was always much more union among
the clergy than among the lay-lords. The
former were under a regular discipline and
subordination to the papal authority. The latter
were under no regular discipline or subordination,
but almost always equally jealous of
one another, and of the king. Though the
tenants and retainers of the clergy, therefore,
had both together been less numerous than
those of the great lay-lords, and their tenants
were probably much less numerous, yet their
union would have rendered them more formidable.
The hospitality and charity of the
clergy, too, not only gave them the command of
a great temporal force, but increased very much
the weight of their spiritual weapons. Those
virtues procured them the highest respect and
veneration among all the inferior ranks of
people, of whom many were constantly, and
almost all occasionally, fed by them. Every
thing belonging or related to so popular an
order, its possessions, its privileges, its doctrines,
necessarily appeared sacred in the eyes
of the common people; and every violation
of them, whether real or pretended, the highest
act of sacrilegious wickedness and profaneness.
In this state of things, if the sovereign
frequently found it difficult to resist the
confederacy of a few of the great nobility, we
cannot wonder that he should find it still
more so to resist the united force of the clergy
of his own dominions, supported by that of the
clergy of all the neighbouring dominions. In
such circumstances, the wonder is, not that
he was sometimes obliged to yield, but that he
ever was able to resist.
The privileges of the clergy in those ancient
times (which to us, who live in the present
times, appear the most absurd), their total
exemption from the secular jurisdiction,
for example, or what in England was called
the benefit of clergy, were the natural, or rather
the necessary, consequences of this state
of things. How dangerous must it have been
for the sovereign to attempt to punish a clergyman
for any crime whatever, if his order were
disposed to protect him, and to represent either
the proof as insufficient for convicting so holy
a man, or the punishment as too severe to be
inflicted upon one whose person had been
rendered sacred by religion? The sovereign
could, in such circumstances, do no better
than leave him to be tried by the ecclesiastical
courts, who, for the honour of their own
order, were interested to restrain, as much as
possible, every member of it from committing
enormous crimes, or even from giving occasion
to such gross scandal as might disgust
the minds of the people.
In the state in which things were, through
the greater part of Europe, during the tenth,
eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, and
for some time both before and after that period,
the constitution of the church of Rome
may be considered as the must formidable
combination that ever was formed against the
authority and security of civil government, as
well as against the liberty, reason, and happiness
of mankind, which can flourish only
where civil government is able to protect
them. In that constitution, the grossest delusions
of superstition were supported in such
a manner by the private interests of so great
a number of people, as put them out of all
danger from any assault of human reason;
because, though human reason might, perhaps,
have been able to unveil, even to the
eyes of the common people, some of the delusions
of superstition, it could never have dissolved
the ties of private interest. Had this
constitution been attacked by no other enemies
but the feeble efforts of human reason,
it must have endured for ever. But that immense
and well-built fabric, which all the
wisdom and virtue of man could never have
shaken, much less have overturned, was, by
the natural course of things, first weakened,
and afterwards in part destroyed; and is
now likely, in the course of a few centuries
more, perhaps, to crumble into ruins altogether.
The gradual improvements of arts, manufactures,
and commerce, the same causes which
destroyed the power of the grant barons, destroyed,
in the same manner, through the
greater part of Europe, the whole temporal
power of the clergy. In the produce of arts,
manufactures, and commerce, the clergy, like
the great barons, found something for which
they could exchange their rude produce, and
thereby discovered the means of spending their
whole revenues upon their own persons, without
giving any considerable share of them to
other people. Their charity became gradually
less extensive, their hospitality less liberal,
or less profuse. Their retainers became
consequently less numerous, and, by degrees,
dwindled away altogether. The clergy, too,
like the great barons, wished to get a better
rent from their landed estates, in order to spend
it, in the same manner, upon the gratification
of their own private vanity and folly. But
this increase of rent could be got only by
granting leases to their tenants, who thereby
became, in a great measure, independent of
them. The ties of interest, which bound the
inferior ranks of people to the clergy, were in
this manner gradually broken and dissolved.
They were even broken and dissolved sooner
than those which bound the same ranks of
people to the great barons; because the benefices
of the church being, the greater part of
them, much smaller than the estates of the
great barons, the possessor of each benefice
was much sooner able to spend the whole of
its revenue upon his own person. During
the greater part of the fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries, the power of the great barons was,
through the greater part of Europe, in full
vigour. But the temporal power of the clergy,
the absolute command which they had once
had over the great body of the people was
very much decayed. The power of the church
was, by that time, very nearly reduced, through
the greater part of Europe, to what arose
from their spiritual authority; and even that
spiritual authority was much weakened, when
it ceased to be supported by the charity and
hospitality of the clergy. The inferior ranks
of people no longer looked upon that order as
they had done before; as the comforters of
their distress, and the relievers of their indigence.
On the contrary, they were provoked
and disgusted by the vanity, luxury, and expense
of the richer clergy, who appeared to
spend upon their own pleasures what had always
before been regarded as the patrimony
of the poor.
In this situation of things, the sovereigns
in the different states of Europe endeavoured
to recover the influence which they had once
had in the disposal of the great benefices of
the church; by procuring to the deans and
chapters of each diocese the restoration of
their ancient right of electing the bishop; and
to the monks of each abbacy that of electing the
abbot. The reestablishing this ancient order
was the object of several statutes enacted in
England during the course of the fourteenth
century, particularly of what is called the statute
of provisors; and of the pragmatic sanction,
established in France in the fifteenth century.
In order to render the election valid, it
was necessary that the sovereign should both
consent to it before hand, and afterwards approve
of the person elected; and though the
election was still supposed to be free, he had,
however all the indirect means which his situation
necessarily afforded him, of influencing the
clergy in his own dominions. Other regulations,
of a similar tendency, were established
in other parts of Europe. But the power of
the pope, in the collation of the great benefices
of the church, seems, before the reformation,
to have been nowhere so effectually
and so universally restrained as in France and
England. The concordat afterwards, in the
sixteenth century, gave to the kings of France
the absolute right of presenting to all the
great, or what are called the consistorial, benefices
of the Gallican church.
Since the establishment of the pragmatic
sanction and of the concordat, the clergy of
France have, in general shewn less respect to
the decrees of the papal court, than the
clergy of any other catholic country. In all
the disputes which their sovereign has had
with the pope, they have almost constantly
taken part with the former. This independency
of the clergy of France upon the court
of Rome seems to be principally founded upon
the pragmatic sanction and the concordat.
In the earlier periods of the monarchy,
the clergy of France appear to have been as
much devoted to the pope as those of any
other country. When Robert, the second
prince of the Capetian race, was most unjustly
excommunicated by the court of Rome,
his own servants, it is said, threw the victuals
which came from his table to the dogs, and
refused to taste any thing themselves which
had been polluted by the contact of a person
in his situation. They were taught to do so,
it may very safely be presumed, by the clergy
of his own dominions.
The claim of collating to the great benefices
of the church, a claim in defence of
which the court of Rome had frequently shaken,
and sometimes overturned, the thrones
of some of the greatest sovereigns in Christendom,
was in this manner either restrained
or modified, or given up altogether, in
many different parts of Europe, even before
the time of the reformation. As the clergy
had now less influence over the people, so the
state had more influence over the clergy.
The clergy, therefore, had both less power,
and less inclination, to disturb the state.
The authority of the church of Rome was
in this state of declension, when the disputes
which gave birth to the reformation began in
Germany, and soon spread themselves through
every part of Europe. The new doctrines
were everywhere received with a high degree
of popular favour. They were propagated
with all that enthusiastic zeal which commonly
animates the spirit of party, when it attacks
established authority. The teachers of those
doctrines, though perhaps, in other respects,
not more learned than many of the divines
who defended the established church, seem in
general to have been better acquainted with
ecclesiastical history, and with the origin and
progress of that system of opinions upon
which the authority of the church was established;
and they had thereby the advantage
in almost every dispute. The austerity of
their manners gave them authority with the
common people, who contrasted the strict
regularity of their conduct with the disorderly
lives of the greater part of their own clergy.
They possessed, too, in a much higher degree
than their adversaries, all the arts of popularity
and of gaining proselytes; arts which the
lofty and dignified sons of the church had
long neglected, as being to them in a great
measure useless. The reason of the new
doctrines recommended them to some, their
novelty to many; the hatred and contempt of
the established clergy to a still greater number:
but the zealous, passionate, and fanatical,
though frequently coarse and rustic eloquence,
with which they were almost everywhere
inculcated, recommended them to by
far the greatest number.
The success of the new doctrines was almost
everywhere so great, that the princes, who at
that time happened to be on bad terms with
the court of Rome, were, by means of them,
easily enabled, in their own dominions, to
overturn the church, which having lost the
respect and veneration of the inferior ranks
of people, could make scarce any resistance.
The court of Rome had disobliged some of
the smaller princes in the northern parts of
Germany, whom it had probably considered
as too insignificant to be worth the managing.
They universally, therefore, established
the reformation in their own dominions.
The tyranny of Christiern II., and of Troll
archbishop of Upsal, enabled Gustavus Vasa
to expel them both from Sweden. The pope
favoured the tyrant and the archbishop, and
Gustavus Vasa found no difficulty in establishing
the reformation in Sweden. Christiern II.
was afterwards deposed from the
throne of Denmark, where his conduct had
rendered him as odious as in Sweden. The
pope, however, was still disposed to favour
him; and Frederic of Holstein, who had
mounted the throne in his stead, revenged
himself, by following the example of Gustavus
Vasa. The magistrates of Berne and
Zurich, who had no particular quarrel with
the pope, established with great ease the
reformation in their respective cantons, where
just before some of the clergy had, by an
imposture somewhat grosser than ordinary, rendered
the whole order both odious and contemptible.
In this critical situation of its affairs the
papal court was at sufficient pains to cultivate
the friendship of the powerful sovereigns of
France and Spain, of whom the latter was at that
time emperor of Germany. With their assistance,
it was enabled, though not without great
difficulty, and much bloodshed, either to suppress
altogether, or obstruct very much, the
progress of the reformation in their dominions.
It was well enough inclined, too, to be complaisant
to the king of England. But from the
circumstances of the times, it could not be so
without giving offense to a still greater sovereign,
Charles V., king of Spain and emperor
of Germany. Henry VIII., accordingly,
though he did not embrace himself the greater
part of the doctrines of the reformation was
yet enabled, by their general prevalence, to
suppress all the monasteries, and to abolish
the authority of the church of Rome in his
dominions. That he should go so far,
though he went no further, gave some satisfaction
to the patrons of the reformation,
who, having got possession of the government
in the reign of his son and successor, completed,
without any difficulty, the work which
Henry VIII. had begun.
In some countries, as in Scotland, where
the government was weak, unpopular, and
not very firmly established, the reformation
was strong enough to overturn, not only the
church, but the state likewise, for attempting
to support the church.
Among the followers of the reformation,
dispersed in all the different countries of Europe,
there was no general tribunal, which,
like that of the court of Rome, or an œcumenical
council, could settle all disputes
among them, and, with irresistible authority,
prescribe to all of them the precise limits of
orthodoxy. When the followers of the reformation
in one country, therefore, happened
to differ from their brethren in another, as
they had no common judge to appeal to, the
dispute could never be decided; and many
such disputes arose among them. Those
concerning the government of the church, and
the right of conferring ecclesiastical benefices,
were perhaps the most interesting to the
peace and welfare of civil society. They
gave birth, accordingly, to the two principal
parties or sects among the followers of the
reformation, the Lutheran and Calvinistic
sects, the only sects among them, of which
the doctrine and discipline have ever yet been
established by law in any part of Europe.
The followers of Luther, together with
what is called the church of England, preserved
more or less of the episcopal government,
established subordination among the
clergy, gave the sovereign the disposal of all
the bishoprics, and other consistorial benefices
within his dominions, and thereby rendered
him the real head of the church; and
without depriving the bishop of the right of
collating to the smaller benefices within his
diocese, they, even to those benefices, not
only admitted, but favoured the right of presentation,
both in the sovereign and in all
other lay patrons. This system of church
government was, from the beginning, favourable
to peace and good order, and to
submission to the civil sovereign. It has
never, accordingly, been the occasion of any
tumult or civil commotion in any country in
which it has once been established. The
church of England, in particular, has always
valued herself, with great reason, upon the
unexceptionable loyalty of her principles.
Under such a government, the clergy naturally
endeavour to recommend themselves
to the sovereign, to the court, and to the
nobility and gentry of the country, by whose
influence they chiefly expect to obtain preferment.
They pay court to those patrons,
sometimes, no doubt, by the vilest flattery
and assentation; but frequently, too, by cultivating
all those arts which best deserve, and
which are therefore most likely to gain them,
the esteem of people of rank and fortune;
by their knowledge in all the different
branches of useful and ornamental learning,
by the decent liberality of their manners, by
the social good humour of their conversation,
and by their avowed contempt of those absurd
and hypocritical austerities which fanatics inculcate
and pretend to practise, in order to
draw upon themselves the veneration, and
upon the greater part of men of rank and
fortune, who avow that they do not practise
them, the abhorrence of the common people.
Such a clergy, however, while they pay their
court in this manner to the higher ranks of
life, are very apt to neglect altogether the
means of maintaining their influence and authority
with the lower. They are listened to,
esteemed, and respected by their superiors;
but before their inferiors they are frequently
incapable of defending, effectually, and to
the conviction of such hearers, their own sober
and moderate doctrines, against the most
ignorant enthusiast who chooses to attack
them.
The followers of Zuinglius, or more properly
those of Calvin, on the contrary, bestowed
upon the people of each parish, whenever
the church became vacant, the right of
electing their own pastor; and established,
at the same time, the most perfect equality
among the clergy. The former part of this
institution, as long as it remained in vigour,
seems to have been productive of nothing
but disorder and confusion, and to have tended
equally to corrupt the morals both of the
clergy and of the people. The latter part
seems never to have had any effects but what
were perfectly agreeable.
As long as the people of each parish preserved
the right of electing their own pastors,
they acted almost always under the influence
of the clergy, and generally of the most factious
and fanatical of the order. The clergy,
in order to preserve their influence in those
popular elections, became, or affected to become,
many of them, fanatics themselves,
encouraged fanaticism among the people, and
gave the preference almost always to the
most fanatical candidate. So small a matter
as the appointment of a parish priest, occasioned
almost always a violent contest, not
only in one parish, but in all the neighbouring
parishes who seldom failed to take part
in the quarrel. When the parish happened
to be situated in a great city, it divided all
the inhabitants into two parties; and when
that city happened, either to constitute itself
a little republic, or to be the head and capital
of a little republic, as in the case with many
of the considerable cities in Switzerland and
Holland, every paltry dispute of this kind,
over and above exasperating the animosity of
all their other factions, threatened to leave
behind it, both a new schism in the church,
and a new faction in the state. In those
small republics, therefore, the magistrate very
soon found it necessary, for the sake of preserving
the public peace, to assume to himself
the right of presenting to all vacant benefices.
In Scotland, the most extensive
country in which this presbyterian form of
church government has ever been established,
the rights of patronage were in effect abolished
by the act which established presbytery
in the beginning of the reign of William III.
That act, at least, put in the power of certain
classes of people in each parish to purchase,
for a very small price, the right of electing
their own pastor. The constitution which
this act established, was allowed to subsist for
about two-and-twenty years, but was abolished
by the 10th of queen Anne, ch. 12, on
account of the confusions and disorders which
this more popular mode of election had almost
everywhere occasioned. In so extensive
a country as Scotland, however, a tumult
in a remote parish was not so likely to
give disturbance to government as in a smaller
state. The 10th of queen Anne restored
the rights of patronage. But though, in
Scotland, the law gives the benefice, without
any exception to the person presented by the
patron; yet the church requires sometimes
(for she has not in this respect been very uniform
in her decisions) a certain concurrence
of the people, before she will confer upon
the presentee what is called the cure of souls,
or the ecclesiastical jurisdiction in the parish.
She sometimes, at least, from an affected
concern for the peace of the parish, delays
the settlement till this concurrence can be
procured. The private tampering of some
of the neighbouring clergy, sometimes to
procure, but more frequently to prevent this
concurrence, and the popular arts which they
cultivate, in order to enable them upon such
occasions to tamper more effectually, are
perhaps the causes which principally keep up
whatever remains of the old fanatical spirit,
either in the clergy or in the people of Scotland.
The equality which the presbyterian form
of church government establishes among the
clergy, consists, first, in the equality of authority
or ecclesiastical jurisdiction; and,
secondly, in the equality of benefice. In all
presbyterian churches, the equality of authority
is perfect; that of benefice is not so.
The difference, however, between one benefice
and another, is seldom so considerable,
as commonly to tempt the possessor even of
the small one to pay court to his patron, by
the vile arts of flattery and assentation, in
order to get a better. In all the presbyterian
churches, where the rights of patronage are
thoroughly established, it is by nobler and
better arts, that the established clergy in general
endeavour to gain the favour of their
superiors; by their learning, by the irreproachable
regularity of their life, and by the
faithful and diligent discharge of their duty.
Their patrons even frequently complain of
the independency of their spirit, which they
are apt to construe into ingratitude for past
favours, but which, at worst, perhaps, is seldom
any more than that indifference which
naturally arises from the consciousness that
no further favours of the kind are ever to be
expected. There is scarce, perhaps, to be
found anywhere in Europe, a more learned,
decent, independent, and respectable set of
men, than the greater part of the presbyterian
clergy of Holland, Geneva, Switzerland, and
Scotland.
Where the church benefices are all nearly
equal, none of them can be very great; and
this mediocrity of benefice, though it may
be, no doubt, carried too far, has, however,
some very agreeable effects. Nothing but
exemplary morals can give dignity to a man
of small fortune. The vices of levity and
vanity necessarily render him ridiculous, and
are, besides, almost as ruinous to him as they
are to the common people. In his own conduct,
therefore, he is obliged to follow that
system of morals which the common people
respect the most. He gains their esteem and
affection, by that plan of life which his own
interest and situation would lead him to follow.
The common people look upon him
with that kindness with which we naturally
regard one who approaches somewhat to our
own condition, but who, we think, ought to
be in a higher. Their kindness naturally
provokes his kindness. He becomes careful
to instruct them, and attentive to assist and
relieve them. He does not even despise the
prejudices of people who are disposed to be
so favourable to him, and never treats them
with those contemptuous and arrogant airs,
which we so often meet with in the proud
dignitaries of opulent and well endowed
churches. The presbyterian clergy, accordingly,
have more influence over the minds of
the common people, than perhaps the clergy
of any other established church. It is, accordingly,
in presbyterian countries only,
that we ever find the common people converted,
without persecution completely, and
almost to a man, to the established church.
In countries where church benefices are,
the greater part of them, very moderate, a
chair in a university is generally a better establishment
than a church benefice. The
universities have, in this case, the picking
and chusing of their members from all the
churchmen of the country, who, in every
country, constitute by far the most numerous
class of men of letters. Where church benefices,
on the contrary, are many of them
very considerable, the church naturally draws
from the universities the greater part of their
eminent men of letters; who generally find
some patron, who does himself honour by
procuring them church preferment. In the
former situation, we are likely to find the
universities filled with the most eminent men
of letters that are to be found in the country.
In the latter, we are likely to find few
eminent men among them, and those few
among the youngest members of the society,
who are likely, too, to be drained away from
it, before they can have acquired experience
and knowledge enough to be of much use to
it. It is observed by Mr. de Voltaire, that
father Porée, a jesuit of no great eminence
in the republic of letters, was the only professor
they had ever had in France, whose
works were worth the reading. In a country
which has produced so many eminent men of
letters, it must appear somewhat singular,
that scarce one of them should have been a
professor in a university. The famous Cassendi
was, in the beginning of his life, a
professor in the university of Aix. Upon
the first dawning of his genius, it was represented
to him, that by going into the church
he could easily find a much more quiet and
comfortable subsistence, as well as a better
situation for pursuing his studies; and he
immediately followed the advice. The observation
of Mr. de Voltaire may be applied,
I believe, not only to France, but to all
other Roman Catholic countries. We very
rarely find in any of them an eminent man
of letters, who is a professor in a university,
except, perhaps, in the professions of law
and physic; professions from which the
church is not so likely to draw them. After
the church of Rome, that of England is by
far the richest and best endowed church in
Christendom. In England, accordingly, the
church is continually draining the universities
of all their best and ablest members;
and an old college tutor who is known and
distinguished in Europe as an eminent man
of letters, is as rarely to be found there as in
any Roman catholic country. In Geneva,
on the contrary, in the protestant cantons of
Switzerland, in the protestant countries of
Germany, in Holland, in Scotland, in Sweden,
and Denmark, the most eminent men of
letters whom those countries have produced,
have, not all indeed, but the far greater part
of them, been professors in universities. In
those countries, the universities are continually
draining the church of all its most eminent
men of letters.
It may, perhaps, be worth while to remark,
that, if we except the poets, a few orators,
and a few historians, the far greater part of
the other eminent men of letters, both of
Greece and Rome, appear to have been either
public or private teachers; generally either
of philosophy or of rhetoric. This remark
will be found to hold true, from the days of
Lysias and Isocrates, of Plato and Aristotle,
down to those of Plutarch and Epictetus,
Suetonius, and Quintilian. To impose upon
any man the necessity of teaching, year after
year, in any particular branch of science
seems in reality to be the most effectual method
for rendering him completely master of
it himself. By being obliged to go every
year over the same ground, if he is good for
any thing, he necessarily becomes, in a few
years, well acquainted with every part of it:
and if, upon any particular point, he should
form too hasty an opinion one year, when he
comes, in the course of his lectures to reconsider
the same subject the year thereafter,
he is very likely to correct it. As to be a
teacher of science is certainly the natural
employment of a mere man of letters; so is
it likewise, perhaps, the education which is
most likely to render him a man of solid
learning and knowledge. The mediocrity of
church benefices naturally tends to draw the
greater part of men of letters in the country
where it takes place, to the employment in
which they can be the most useful to the
public, and at the same time to give them the
best education, perhaps, they are capable of
receiving. It tends to render their learning
both as solid as possible, and as useful as possible.
The revenue of every established church,
such parts of it excepted as may arise from
particular lands or manors, is a branch, it
ought to be observed, of the general revenue
of the state, which is thus diverted to a purpose
very different from the defence of the
state. The tithe, for example, is a real land-tax,
which puts it out of the power of the
proprietors of land to contribute so largely towards
the defence of the state as they otherwise
might be able to do. The rent of land,
however, is, according to some, the sole fund;
and, according to others, the principal fund,
from which, in all great monarchies, the exigencies
of the state must be ultimately supplied.
The more of this fund that is given to
the church, the less, it is evident, can be spared
to the state. It may be laid down as a certain
maxim, that all other things being supposed
equal, the richer the church, the poorer
must necessarily be, either the sovereign on
the one hand, or the people on the other;
and, in all cases, the less able must the state
be to defend itself. In several protestant
countries, particularly in all the protestant
cantons of Switzerland, the revenue which
anciently belonged to the Roman catholic
church, the tithes and church lands, has been
found a fund sufficient, not only to afford
competent salaries to the established clergy,
but to defray, with little or no addition, all
the other expenses of the state. The magistrates
of the powerful canton of Berne, in
particular, have accumulated, out of the savings
from this fund, a very large sum, supposed
to amount to several millions; part of
which is deposited in a public treasure, and
part is placed at interest in what are called
the public funds of the different indebted nations
of Europe; chiefly in those of France
and Great Britain. What may be the amount
of the whole expense which the church, either
of Berne, or of any other protestant canton,
costs the state, I do not pretend to know. By
a very exact account it appears, that, in 1755,
the whole revenue of the clergy of the church
of Scotland, including their glebe or church
lands, and the rent of their manses or dwelling-houses,
estimated according to a reasonable
valuation, amounted only to L.68,514,
1s. 51⁄12d. This very moderate revenue affords
a decent subsistence to nine hundred and forty-four
ministers. The whole expense of the
church, including what is occasionally laid out
for the building and reparation of churches,
and of the manses of ministers, cannot well
be supposed to exceed eighty or eighty-five
thousand pounds a-year. The most opulent
church in Christendom does not maintain better
the uniformity of faith, the fervour of devotion,
the spirit of order, regularity, and austere
morals, in the great body of the people, than
this very poorly endowed church of Scotland.
All the good effects, both civil and religious,
which an established church can be supposed
to produce, are produced by it as completely
as by any other. The greater part of the protestant
churches of Switzerland, which, in general,
are not better endowed than the church
of Scotland, produce those effects in a still
higher degree. In the greater part of the
protestant cantons, there is not a single person
to be found, who does not profess himself
to be of the established church. If he professes
himself to be of any other, indeed, the
law obliges him to leave the canton. But so
severe, or, rather, indeed, so oppressive a law,
could never have been executed in such free
countries, had not the diligence of the clergy
beforehand converted to the established church
the whole body of the people, with the exception
of, perhaps, a few individuals only.
In some parts of Switzerland, accordingly,
where, from the accidental union of a protestant
and Roman catholic country, the conversion
has not been so complete, both religions
are not only tolerated, but established
by law.
The proper performance of every service
seems to require, that its pay or recompence
should be, as exactly as possible, proportioned
to the nature of the service. If any service
is very much underpaid, it is very apt to suffer
by the meanness and incapacity of the
greater part of those who are employed in it.
If it is very much overpaid, it is apt to suffer,
perhaps still more, by their negligence
and idleness. A man of a large revenue,
whatever may be his profession, thinks he
ought to live like other men of large revenues;
and to spend a great part of his time
in festivity, in vanity, and in dissipation.
But in a clergyman, this train of life not only
consumes the time which ought to be employed
in the duties of his function, but in the
eyes of the common people, destroys almost
entirely that sanctity of character, which can
alone enable him to perform these duties with
proper weight and authority.
Over and above the expenses necessary for
enabling the sovereign to perform his several
duties, a certain expense is requisite for the
support of his dignity. This expense varies,
both with the different periods of improvement,
and with the different forms of government.
In an opulent and improved society, where
all the different orders of people are growing
every day more expensive in their houses, in
their furniture, in their tables, in their dress,
and in their equipage; it cannot well be expected
that the sovereign should alone hold out
against the fashion. He naturally, therefore,
or rather necessarily, becomes more expensive
in all those different articles too. His dignity
even seems to require that he should become
so.
As, in point of dignity, a monarch is more
raised above his subjects than the chief magistrate
of any republic is ever supposed to
be above his fellow-citizens; so a greater expense
is necessary for supporting that higher
dignity. We naturally expect more splendour
in the court of a king, than in the mansion-house
of a doge or burgo-master.
The expense of defending the society, and
that of supporting the dignity of the chief
magistrate, are both laid out for the general
benefit of the whole society. It is reasonable,
therefore, that they should be defrayed
by the general contribution of the whole society;
all the different members contributing,
as nearly as possible, in proportion to their respective
abilities.
The expense of the administration of justice,
too, may no doubt be considered as laid
out for the benefit of the whole society. There
is no impropriety, therefore, in its being defrayed
by the general contribution of the whole
society. The persons, however, who give occasion
to this expense, are those who, by their
injustice in one way or another, make it necessary
to seek redress or protection from the
courts of justice. The persons, again, most
immediately benefited by this expense, are
those whom the courts of justice either restore
to their rights, or maintain in their
rights. The expense of the administration of
justice, therefore, may very properly be defrayed
by the particular contribution of one
or other, or both, of those two different sets
of persons, according as different occasions
may require, that is, by the fees of court. It
cannot be necessary to have recourse to the
general contribution of the whole society, except
for the conviction of those criminals who
have not themselves any estate or fund sufficient
for paying those fees.
Those local or provincial expenses, of which
the benefit is local or provincial (what is laid
out, for example, upon the police of a particular
town or district), ought to be defrayed
by a local or provincial revenue, and ought to
be no burden upon the general revenue of the
society. It is unjust that the whole society
should contribute towards an expense, of
which the benefit is confined to a part of the
society.
The expense of maintaining good roads
and communications is, no doubt, beneficial
to the whole society, and may, therefore, without
any injustice, be defrayed by the general
contributions of the whole society. This expense,
however, is most immediately and directly
beneficial to those who travel or carry
goods from one place to another, and to those
who consume such goods. The turnpike tolls
in England, and the duties called peages in
other countries, lay it altogether upon those
two different sets of people, and thereby discharge
the general revenue of the society from
a very considerable burden.
The expense of the institutions for education
and religious instruction, is likewise, no
doubt, beneficial to the whole society, and
may, therefore, without injustice, be defrayed
by the general contribution of the whole society.
This expense, however, might, perhaps,
with equal propriety, and even with
some advantage, be defrayed altogether by
those who receive the immediate benefit of
such education and instruction, or by the voluntary
contribution of those who think they
have occasion for either the one or the other.
When the institutions, or public works,
which are beneficial to the whole society, either
cannot be maintained altogether, or are
not maintained altogether, by the contribution
of such particular members of the society as
are most immediately benefited by them; the
deficiency must, in most cases, be made up
by the general contribution of the whole society.
The general revenue of the society, over
and above defraying the expense of defending
the society, and of supporting the dignity of
the chief magistrate, must make up for the
deficiency of many particular branches of revenue.
The sources of this general or public
revenue, I shall endeavour to explain in
the following chapter.
The revenue which must defray, not only
the expense of defending the society and of
supporting the dignity of the chief magistrate,
but all the other necessary expenses of government,
for which the constitution of the state
has not provided any particular revenue may
be drawn, either, first, from some fund which
peculiarly belongs to the sovereign or commonwealth,
and which is independent of the
revenue of the people; or, secondly, from the
revenue of the people.
The funds, or sources, of revenue, which
may peculiarly belong to the sovereign or
commonwealth, must consist, either in stock,
or in land.
The sovereign, like any other owner of
stock, may derive a revenue from it, either
by employing it himself, or by lending it. His
revenue is, in the one case, profit, in the other
interest.
The revenue of a Tartar or Arabian chief
consists in profit. It arises principally from
the milk and increase of his own herds and
flocks, of which he himself superintends the
management, and is the principal shepherd or
herdsman of his own horde or tribe. It is,
however, in this earliest and rudest state of
civil government only, that profit has ever
made the principal part of the public revenue
of a monarchical state.
Small republics have sometimes derived a
considerable revenue from the profit of mercantile
projects. The republic of Hamburgh
is said to do so from the profits of a public
wine-cellar and apothecary's shop.[50] That state
cannot be very great, of which the sovereign has
leisure to carry on the trade of a wine-merchant
or an apothecary. The profit of a public bank
has been a source of revenue to more considerable
states. It has been so, not only to
Hamburgh, but to Venice and Amsterdam.
A revenue of this kind has even by some
people been thought not below the attention
of so great an empire as that of Great Britain.
Reckoning the ordinary dividend of the bank
of England at five and a-half per cent., and
its capital at ten millions seven hundred and
eighty thousand pounds, the net annual profit,
after paying the expense of management,
must amount, it is said, to five hundred and
ninety-two thousand nine hundred pounds.
Government, it is pretended, could borrow
this capital at three per cent. interest, and, by
taking the management of the bank into its
own hands, might make a clear profit of two
hundred and sixty-nine thousand five hundred
pounds a-year. The orderly, vigilant, and
parsimonious administration of such aristocracies
as those of Venice and Amsterdam, is extremely
proper, it appears from experience,
for the management of a mercantile project of
this kind. But whether such a government
as that of England, which, whatever may be
its virtues, has never been famous for good
economy; which, in time of peace, has generally
conducted itself with the slothful and
negligent profusion that is, perhaps, natural
to monarchies; and, in time of war, has constantly
acted with all the thoughtless extravagance
that democracies are apt to fall into,
could be safely trusted with the management
of such a project, must at least be good deal
more doubtful.
The post-office is properly a mercantile project.
The government advances the expense
of establishing the different offices, and of buying
or hiring the necessary horses or carriages,
and is repaid, with a large profit, by the duties
upon what is carried. It is, perhaps, the only
mercantile project which has been successfully
managed by, I believe, every sort of government.
The capital to be advanced is not very
considerable. There is no mystery in the business.
The returns are not only certain, but
immediate.
Princes, however, have frequently engaged
in many other mercantile projects, and have
been willing, like private persons, to mend their
fortunes, by becoming adventurers in the common
branches of trade. They have scarce
ever succeeded. The profusion with which
the affairs of princes are always managed,
renders it almost impossible that they should.
The agents of a prince regard the wealth of
their master as inexhaustible; are careless at
what price they buy, are careless at what price
they sell, are careless at what expense they
transport his goods from one place to another.
Those agents frequently live with the profusion
of princes; and sometimes, too, in spite
of that profusion, and by a proper method of
making up their accounts, acquire the fortunes
of princes. It was thus, as we are told by
Machiavel, that the agents of Lorenzo of Medicis,
not a prince of mean abilities, carried on
his trade. The republic of Florence was
several times obliged to pay the debt into
which their extravagance had involved him.
He found it convenient, accordingly to give up
the business of merchant, the business to which
his family had originally owed their fortune,
and, in the latter part of his life, to employ
both what remained of that fortune, and the
revenue of the state, of which he had the disposal,
in projects and expenses more suitable
to his station.
No two characters seem more inconsistent
than those of trader and sovereign. If the
trading spirit of the English East India company
renders them very bad sovereigns, the
spirit of sovereignty seems to have rendered
them equally bad traders. While they were
traders only, they managed their trade successfully,
and were able to pay from their profits
a moderate dividend to the proprietors of
their stock. Since they became sovereigns,
with a revenue which, it is said, was originally
more than three millions sterling, they have
been obliged to beg the ordinary assistance of
government, in order to avoid immediate bankruptcy.
In their former situation, their servants
in India considered themselves as the
clerks of merchants; in their present situation,
those servants consider themselves as the ministers
of sovereigns.
A state may sometimes derive some part of
its public revenue from the interest of money,
as well as from the profits of stock. If it has
amassed a treasure, it may lend a part of that
treasure, either to foreign states, or to its own
subjects.
The canton of Berne derives a considerable
revenue by lending a part of its treasure to
foreign states, that is, by placing it in the
public funds of the different indebted nations
of Europe, chiefly in those of France and
England. The security of this revenue must
depend, first, upon the security of the funds
in which it is placed, or upon the good faith
of the government which has the management
of them; and, secondly, upon the certainty or
probability of the continuance of peace with
the debtor nation. In the case of a war, the
very first act of hostility on the part of the
debtor nation might be the forfeiture of the
funds of its creditor. This policy of lending
money to foreign states is, so far as I know
peculiar to the canton of Berne.
The city of Hamburgh[51] has established a
sort of public pawn-shop, which lends money
to the subjects of the state, upon pledges, at
six per cent. interest. This pawn-shop, or
lombard, as it is called, affords a revenue, it
is pretended, to the state, of a hundred and
fifty thousand crowns, which, at four and sixpence
the crown, amounts to L.33,750 sterling.
The government of Pennsylvania, without
amassing any treasure, invented a method of
lending, not money, indeed, but what is equivalent
to money, to its subjects. By advancing
to private people, at interest, and
upon land security to double the value, paper
bills of credit, to be redeemed fifteen years after
their date; and, in the mean time, made
transferable from hand to hand, like banknotes,
and declared by act of assembly to be a
legal tender in all payments from one inhabitant
of the province to another, it raised a
moderate revenue, which went a considerable
way towards defraying an annual expense of
about L.4500, the whole ordinary expense of
that frugal and orderly government. The
success of an expedient of this kind must have
depended upon three different circumstances:
first, upon the demand for some other instrument
of commerce, besides gold and silver
money, or upon the demand for such a quantity
of consumable stock as could not be had
without sending abroad the greater part of
their gold and silver money, in order to purchase
it; secondly, upon the good credit of
the government which made use of this expedient;
and, thirdly, upon the moderation with
which it was used, the whole value of the
paper bills of credit never exceeding that of
the gold and silver money which would have
been necessary for carrying on their circulation,
had there been no paper bills of credit.
The same expedient was, upon different occasions,
adopted by several other American
colonies; but, from want of this moderation,
it produced, in the greater part of them, much
more disorder than conveniency.
The unstable and perishable nature of stock
and credit, however, renders them unfit to be
trusted to as the principal funds of that sure,
steady, and permanent revenue, which can alone
give security and dignity to government.
The government of no great nation, that was
advanced beyond the shepherd state, seems
ever to have derived the greater part of its
public revenue from such sources.
Land is a fund of more stable and permanent
nature; and the rent of public lands, accordingly,
has been the principal source of
the public revenue of many a great nation
that was much advanced beyond the shepherd
state. From the produce or rent of the public
lands, the ancient republics of Greece and
Italy derived for a long time the greater part
of that revenue which defrayed the necessary
expenses of the commonwealth. The rent of
the crown lands constituted for a long time
the greater part of the revenue of the ancient
sovereigns of Europe.
War, and the preparation for war, are the
two circumstances which, in modern times,
occasion the greater part of the necessary expense
of all great states. But in the ancient
republics of Greece and Italy, every citizen
was a soldier, and both served, and prepared
himself for service, at his own expense.
Neither of those two circumstances, therefore,
could occasion any very considerable expense
to the state. The rent of a very moderate
landed estate might be fully sufficient
for defraying all the other necessary expenses
of government.
In the ancient monarchies of Europe, the
manners and customs of the times sufficiently
prepared the great body of the people for
war; and when they took the field, they
were, by the condition of their feudal tenures,
to be maintained either at their own
expense, or at that of their immediate lords,
without bringing any new charge upon the
sovereign. The other expenses of government
were, the greater part of them, very
moderate. The administration of justice, it
has been shewn, instead of being a cause of
expense was a source of revenue. The labour
of the country people, for three days
before, and for three days after, harvest, was
thought a fund sufficient for making and
maintaining all the bridges, highways, and
other public works, which the commerce of
the country was supposed to require. In
those days the principal expense of the sovereign
seems to have consisted in the maintenance
of his own family and household.
The officers of his household, accordingly,
were then the great officers of state. The
lord treasurer received his rents. The lord
steward and lord chamberlain looked after
the expense of his family. The care of his
stables was committed to the lord constable
and the lord marshal. His houses were all
built in the form of castles, and seem to have
been the principal fortresses which he possessed.
The keepers of those houses or castles
might be considered as a sort of military governors.
They seem to have been the only
military officers whom it was necessary to
maintain in time of peace. In these circumstances,
the rent of a great landed estate
might, upon ordinary occasions, very well
defray all the necessary expenses of government.
In the present state of the greater part of
the civilized monarchies of Europe, the rent
of all the lands in the country, managed as
they probably would be, if they all belonged
to one proprietor, would scarce, perhaps,
amount to the ordinary revenue which they
levy upon the people even in peaceable times.
The ordinary revenue of Great Britain, for
example, including not only what is necessary
for defraying the current expense of the year,
but for paying the interest of the public
debts, and for sinking a part of the capital
of those debts, amounts to upwards of ten
millions a-year. But the land tax, at four
shillings in the pound, falls short of two millions
a-year. This land tax, as it is called,
however, is supposed to be one-fifth, not only
of the rent of all the land, but of that of all
the houses, and of the interest of all the capital
stock of Great Britain, that part of it
only excepted which is either lent to the public,
or employed as farming stock in the cultivation
of land. A very considerable part
of the produce of this tax arises from the
rent of houses and the interest of capital stock.
The land tax of the city of London, for example,
at four shillings in the pound, amounts
to L.123,399 : 6 : 7; that of the city
of Westminster to L.63,092 : 1 : 5; that of
the palaces of Whitehall and St. James's to
L.30,754 : 6 : 3. A certain proportion of
the land tax is, in the same manner, assessed
upon all the other cities and towns corporate
in the kingdom; and arises almost altogether,
either from the rent of houses, or from what
is supposed to be the interest of trading and
capital stock. According to the estimation,
therefore, by which Great Britain is rated to
the land tax, the whole mass of revenue arising
from the rent of all the lands, from that
of all the houses, and from the interest of all
the capital stock, that part of it only excepted
which is either lent to the public, or employed
in the cultivation of land, does not
exceed ten millions sterling a-year, the ordinary
revenue which government levies upon
the people even in peaceable times. The
estimation by which Great Britain is rated to
the land tax is, no doubt, taking the whole
kingdom at an average, very much below the
real value; though in several particular counties
and districts it is said to be nearly equal
to that value. The rent of the lands alone,
exclusive of that of houses and of the interest
of stock, has by many people been estimated
at twenty millions; an estimation
made in a great measure at random, and
which, I apprehend, is as likely to be above
as below the truth. But if the lands of
Great Britain, in the present state of their
cultivation, do not afford a rent of more than
twenty millions a-year, they could not well
afford the half, most probably not the fourth
part of that rent, if they all belonged to a
single proprietor, and were put under the
negligent, expensive, and oppressive management
of his factors and agents. The crown
lands of Great Britain do not at present afford
the fourth part of the rent which could
probably be drawn from them if they were
the property of private persons. If the crown
lands were more extensive, it is probable, they
would be still worse managed.
The revenue which the great body of the
people derives from land is, in proportion,
not to the rent, but to the produce of the
land. The whole annual produce of the
land of every country, if we except what is
reserved for seed, is either annually consumed
by the great body of the people, or exchanged
for something else that is consumed
by them. Whatever keeps down the produce
of the land below what it would otherwise
rise to, keeps down the revenue of the great
body of the people, still more than it does
that of the proprietors of land. The rent of
land, that portion of the produce which belongs
to the proprietors, is scarce anywhere
in Great Britain supposed to be more than a
third part of the whole produce. If the land
which, in one state of cultivation, affords a
revenue of ten millions sterling a-year, would
in another afford a rent of twenty millions;
the rent being, in both cases, supposed a
third part of the produce, the revenue of the
proprietors would be less than it otherwise
might be, by ten millions a-year only; but
the revenue of the great body of the people
would be less than it otherwise might be, by
thirty millions a-year, deducting only what
would be necessary for seed. The population
of the country would be less by the number
of people which thirty millions a-year, deducting
always the seed, could maintain, according
to the particular mode of living, and
expense which might take place in the different
ranks of men, among whom the remainder
was distributed.
Though there is not at present in Europe,
any civilized state of any kind which derives
the greater part of its public revenue from
the rent of lands which are the property of
the state; yet, in all the great monarchies
of Europe, there are still many large tracts
of land which belong to the crown. They
are generally forest, and sometimes forests
where, after travelling several miles, you will
scarce find a single tree; a mere waste and
loss of country, in respect both of produce
and population. In every great monarchy of
Europe, the sale of the crown lands would
produce a very large sum of money, which,
if applied to the payment of the public debts,
would deliver from mortgage a much greater
revenue than any which those lands have ever
afforded to the crown. In countries where
lands, improved and cultivated very highly,
and yielding, at the time of sale, as great a
rent as can easily be got from them, commonly
sell at thirty years purchase; the unimproved,
uncultivated, and low-rented crown
lands, might well be expected to sell at forty,
fifty, or sixty years purchase. The crown
might immediately enjoy the revenue which
this great price would redeem from mortgage.
In the course of a few years, it would
probably enjoy another revenue. When the
crown lands had become private property,
they would, in the course of a few years, become
well improved and well cultivated.
The increase of their produce would increase
the population of the country, by augmenting
the revenue and consumption of the people.
But the revenue which the crown derives
from the duties of custom and excise, would
necessarily increase with the revenue and consumption
of the people.
The revenue which, in any civilized monarchy,
the crown derives from the crown
lands, though it appears to cost nothing to
individuals, in reality costs more to the society
than perhaps any other equal revenue
which the crown enjoys. It would, in all
cases, be for the interest of the society, to replace
this revenue to the crown by some other
equal revenue, and to divide the lands among
the people, which could not well be done better,
perhaps, than by exposing them to public
sale.
Lands, for the purposes of pleasure and
magnificence, parks, gardens, public walks,
&c. possessions which are everywhere considered
as causes of expense, not as sources of
revenue, seem to be the only lands which, in
a great and civilized monarchy, ought to belong
to the crown.
Public stock and public lands, therefore,
the two sources of revenue which may peculiarly
belong to the sovereign or commonwealth,
being both improper and insufficient
funds for defraying the necessary expense of
any great and civilized state; it remains that
this expense must, the greater part of it, be
defrayed by taxes of one kind or another;
the people contributing a part of their own
private revenue, in order to make up a public
revenue to the sovereign or commonwealth.
The private revenue of individuals, it has
been shown in the first book of this Inquiry,
arises, ultimately from the three different sources;
rent, profit, and wages. Every tax must
finally be paid from some one or other of
those three different sources of revenue, or
from all of them indifferently. I shall endeavour
to give the best account I can, first,
of those taxes which, it is intended should fall
upon rent; secondly, of those which, it is
intended should fall upon profit; thirdly, of
those which, it is intended should fall upon
wages; and fourthly, of those which, it is intended
should fall indifferently upon all those
three different sources of private revenue.
The particular consideration of each of these
four different sources of taxes will divide the
second part of the present chapter into four
articles, three of which will require several
other subdivisions. Many of these taxes, it
will appear from the following review, are
not finally paid from the fund, or source of
revenue, upon which it is intended they should
fall.
Before I enter upon the examination of particular
taxes, it is necessary to premise the
four following maxims with regard to taxes in
general.
1. The subjects of every state ought to
contribute towards the support of the government,
as nearly as possible, in proportion to
their respective abilities; that is, in proportion
to the revenue which they respectively
enjoy under the protection of the state. The
expense of government to the individuals of
a great nation, is like the expense of management
to the joint tenants of a great estate,
who are all obliged to contribute in proportion
to their respective interests in the estate.
In the observation or neglect of this maxim,
consists what is called the equality or inequality
of taxation. Every tax, it must be observed
once for all, which falls finally upon
one only of the three sorts of revenue above
mentioned, is necessarily unequal, in so far
as it does not affect the other two. In the
following examination of different taxes, I
shall seldom take much farther notice of this
sort of inequality; but shall, in most cases,
confine my observations to that inequality
which is occasioned by a particular tax falling
unequally upon that particular sort of private
revenue which is affected by it.
2. The tax which each individual is bound
to pay, ought to be certain and not arbitrary.
The time of payment, the manner of payment,
the quantity to be paid, ought all to be clear
and plain to the contributor, and to every
other person. Where it is otherwise, every
person subject to the tax is put more or less in
the power of the tax-getherer, who can either
aggravate the tax upon any obnoxious contributor,
or extort, by the terror of such aggravation,
some present or perquisite to himself.
The uncertainty of taxation encourages the
insolence, and favours the corruption, of an
order of men who are naturally unpopular, even
where they are neither insolent nor corrupt.
The certainty of what each individual ought
to pay is, in taxation, a matter of so great importance,
that a very considerable degree of
inequality, it appears, I believe, from the experience
of all nations, is not near so great an
evil as a very small degree of uncertainty.
3. Every tax ought to be levied at the time,
or in the manner, in which it is most likely to
be convenient for the contributor to pay it. A
tax upon the rent of land or of houses, payable
at the same term at which such rents are usually
paid, is levied at the time when it is most
likely to be convenient for the contributor to
pay; or when he is most likely to have wherewithal
to pay. Taxes upon such consumable
goods as are articles of luxury, are all finally
paid by the consumer, and generally in a
manner that is very convenient for him. He
pays them by little and little, as he has occasion
to buy the goods. As he is at liberty
too, either to buy or not to buy, as he pleases,
it must be his own fault if he ever suffers any
considerable inconveniency from such taxes.
4. Every tax ought to be so contrived, as
both to take out and to keep out of the pockets
of the people as little as possible, over and
above what it brings into the public treasury
of the state. A tax may either take out or
keep out of the pockets of the people a great
deal more than it brings into the public
treasury, in the four following ways. First,
the levying of it may require a great number
of officers, whose salaries may eat up the
greater part of the produce of the tax, and
whose perquisites may impose another additional
tax upon the people. Secondly, it may
obstruct the industry of the people, and discourage
them from applying to certain branches
of business which might give maintenance
and employment to great multitudes. While
it obliges the people to pay, it may thus diminish,
or perhaps destroy, some of the funds
which might enable them more easily to do so.
Thirdly, by the forfeitures and other penalties
which those unfortunate individuals incur,
who attempt unsuccessfully to evade the tax,
it may frequently ruin them, and thereby put
an end to the benefit which the community
might have received from the employment of
their capitals. An injudicious tax offers a
great temptation to smuggling. But the
penalties of smuggling must arise in proportion
to the temptation. The law, contrary to
all the ordinary principles of justice, first
creates the temptation, and then punishes those
who yield to it; and it commonly enhances
the punishment, too, in proportion to the very
circumstance which ought certainly to alleviate
it, the temptation to commit the crime.[52]
Fourthly, by subjecting the people to the
frequent visits and the odious examination of
the tax-gatherers, it may expose them to much
unnecessary trouble, vexation, and oppression;
and though vexation is not, strictly speaking,
expense, it is certainly equivalent to the expense
at which every man would be willing
to redeem himself from it. It is in some one
or other of these four different ways, that
taxes are frequently so much more burdensome
to the people than they are beneficial to the
sovereign.
The evident justice and utility of the foregoing
maxims have recommended them, more
or less, to the attention of all nations. All
nations have endeavoured, to the best of their
judgment, to render their taxes as equal as
they could contrive; as certain, as convenient
to the contributor, both the time and the mode
of payment, and in proportion to the revenue
which they brought to the prince, as little
burdensome to the people. The following
short review of some of the principal taxes
which have taken place in different ages and
countries, will show, that the endeavours of
all nations have not in this respect been equally
successful.
A tax upon the rent of land may either be
imposed according to a certain canon, every
district being valued at a certain rent, which
valuation is not afterwards to be altered; or
it may be imposed in such a manner, as to
vary with every variation in the real rent of
the land, and to rise or fall with the improvement
or declaration of its cultivation.
A land tax which, like that of Great Britain,
is assessed upon each district according
to a certain invariable canon, though
it should be equal at the time of its first establishment,
necessarily becomes unequal in
process of time, according to the unequal degrees
of improvement or neglect in the cultivation
of the different parts of the country.
In England, the valuation, according
to which the different counties and parishes
were assessed to the land tax by the 4th of
William and Mary, was very unequal even at
its first establishment. This tax, therefore,
so far offends against the first of the four
maxims above mentioned. It is perfectly
agreeable to the other three. It is perfectly
certain. The time of payment for the tax,
being the same as that for the rent, is as convenient
as it can be to the contributor. Though
the landlord is, in all cases, the real contributor,
the tax is commonly advanced by the
tenant, to whom the landlord is obliged to allow
it in the payment of the rent. This tax
is levied by a much smaller number of officers
than any other which affords nearly the same
revenue. As the tax upon each district does
not rise with the rise of the rent, the sovereign
does not share in the profits of the landlord's
improvements. Those improvements sometimes
contribute, indeed, to the discharge of
the other landlords of the district. But the
aggravation of the tax, which this may sometimes
occasion upon a particular estate, is always
so very small, that it never can discourage
those improvements, nor keep down the produce
of the land below what it would otherwise
rise to. As it has no tendency to diminish
the quantity, it can have none to raise the
price of that produce. It does not obstruct
the industry of the people; it subjects the
landlord to no other inconveniency besides the
unavoidable one of paying the tax.
The advantage, however, which the landlord
has derived from the invariable constancy
of the valuation, by which all the lands of
Great Britain are rated to the land-tax, has
been principally owing to some circumstances
altogether extraneous to the nature of the
tax.
It has been owing in part, to the great
prosperity of almost every part of the country,
the rents of almost all the estates of Great
Britain having, since the time when this valuation
was first established, been continually
rising, and scarce any of them having fallen.
The landlords, therefore, have almost all gained
the difference between the tax which they
would have paid, according to the present rent
of their estates, and that which they actually pay
according to the ancient valuation. Had the
state of the country been different, had rents
been gradually falling in consequence of the
declension of cultivation, the landlords would
almost all have lost this difference. In the
state of things which has happened to take
place since the revolution, the constancy of
the valuation has been advantageous to the
landlord and hurtful to the sovereign. In a
different state of things it might have been
advantageous to the sovereign and hurtful to
the landlord.
As the tax is made payable in money, so
the valuation of the land is expressed in money.
Since the establishment of this valuation, the
value of silver has been pretty uniform, and
there has been no alteration in the standard
of the coin, either as to weight or fineness.
Had silver risen considerably in its value, as
it seems to have done in the course of the
two centuries which preceded the discovery of
the mines of America, the constancy of the
valuation might have proved very oppressive
to the landlord. Had silver fallen considerably
in its value, as it certainly did for about
a century at least after the discovery of those
mines, the same constancy of valuation would
have reduced very much this branch of the
revenue of the sovereign. Had any considerable
alteration been made in the standard
of the money, either by sinking the same
quantity of silver to a lower denomination,
or by raising it to a higher; had an ounce of
silver, for example, instead of being coined
into five shillings and two pence, been coined
either into pieces which bore so low a denomination
as two shillings and seven pence, or
into pieces which bore so high a one as ten
shillings and four pence, it would, in the one
case, have hurt the revenue of the proprietor,
in the other that of the sovereign.
In circumstances, therefore, somewhat different
from those which have actually taken
place, this constancy of valuation might have
been a very great inconveniency, either to the
contributors or to the commonwealth. In
the course of ages, such circumstances, however,
must at some time or other happen. But
though empires, like all the other works of men,
have all hitherto proved mortal, yet every empire
aims at immortality. Every constitution,
therefore, which it is meant should be as permanent
as the empire itself, ought to be convenient,
not in certain circumstances only,
but in all circumstances; or ought to be
suited, not to those circumstances which are
transitory, occasional, or accidental, but to
those which are necessary, and therefore always
the same.
A tax upon the rent of land, which varies
with every variation of the rent, or which rises
and falls according to the improvement or
neglect of cultivation, is recommended by that
sect of men of letters in France, who call
themselves the economists, as the most equitable
of all taxes. All taxes, they pretend,
fall ultimately upon the rent of land, and
ought, therefore, to be imposed equally upon
the fund which must finally pay them. That
all taxes ought to fall as equally as possible
upon the fund which must finally pay them,
is certainly true. But without entering into
the disagreeable discussion of the metaphysical
arguments by which they support their
very ingenious theory, it will sufficiently appear,
from the following review, what are the
taxes which fall finally upon the rent of the
land, and what are those which fall finally upon
some other fund.
In the Venetian territory, all the arable
lands which are given in lease to farmers are
taxed at a tenth of the rent.[53] The leases are
recorded in a public register, which is kept
by the officers of revenue in each province or
district. When the proprietor cultivates his
own lands, they are valued according to an
equitable estimation, and he is allowed a deduction
of one-fifth of the tax; so that for
such land he pays only eight instead of ten
per cent. of the supposed rent.
A land-tax of this kind is certainly more
equal than the land-tax of England. It might
not, perhaps, be altogether so certain, and the
assessment of the tax might frequently occasion
a good deal more trouble to the landlord.
It might, too, be a good deal more expensive
in the levying.
Such a system of administration, however,
might, perhaps, be contrived, as would in a
great measure both prevent this uncertainty,
and moderate this expense.
The landlord and tenant, for example, might
jointly be obliged to record their lease in a
public register. Proper penalties might be
enacted against concealing or misrepresenting
any of the conditions; and if part of those
penalties were to be paid to either of the two
parties who informed against and convicted
the other of such concealment or misrepresentation,
it would effectually deter them from
combining together in order to defraud the
public revenue. All the conditions of the
lease might be sufficiently known from such a
record.
Some landlords, instead of raising the rent,
take a fine for the renewal of the lease. This
practice is, in most cases, the expedient of a
spendthrift, who, for a sum of ready money
sells a future revenue of much greater value.
It is, in most cases, therefore, hurtful to the
landlord; it is frequently hurtful to the tenant;
and it is always hurtful to the community.
It frequently takes from the tenant so
great a part of his capital, and thereby diminishes
so much his ability to cultivate the
land, that he finds it more difficult to pay a
small rent than it would otherwise have been
to pay a great one. Whatever diminishes his
ability to cultivate, necessarily keeps down,
below what it would otherwise have been, the
most important part of the revenue of the community.
By rendering the tax upon such fines
a good deal heavier than upon the ordinary
rent, this hurtful practice might be discouraged,
to the no small advantage of all the
different parties concerned, of the landlord, of
the tenant, of the sovereign, and of the whole
community.
Some leases prescribe to the tenant a certain
mode of cultivation, and a certain succession
of crops, during the whole continuance
of the lease. This condition, which is generally
the effect of the landlord's conceit of his
own superior knowledge (a conceit in most
cases very ill-founded), ought always to be
considered as an additional rent, as a rent in
service, instead of a rent in money. In order
to discourage the practice, which is generally
a foolish one, this species of rent might
be valued rather high, and consequently taxed
somewhat higher than common money-rents.
Some landlords, instead of a rent in money,
require a rent in kind, in corn, cattle, poultry,
wine, oil, &c.; others, again, require a rent
in service. Such rents are always more hurtful
to the tenant than beneficial to the landlord.
They either take more, or keep more
out of the pocket of the former, than they
put into that of the latter. In every country
where they take place, the tenants are poor
and beggarly, pretty much according to the
degree in which they take place. By valuing,
in the same manner, such rents rather
high, and consequently taxing them somewhat
higher than common money-rents, a
practice which is hurtful to the whole community,
might, perhaps, be sufficiently discouraged.
When the landlord chose to occupy himself
a part of his own lands, the rent might be valued
according to an equitable arbitration of
the farmers and landlords in the neighbourhood,
and a moderate abatement of the tax
might be granted to him, in the same manner
as in the Venetian territory, provided the rent
of the lands which he occupied did not exceed
a certain sum. It is of importance that the
landlord should be encouraged to cultivate a
part of his own land. His capital is generally
greater than that of the tenant, and, with less
skill, he can frequently raise a greater produce.
The landlord can afford to try experiments,
and in generally disposed to do so.
His unsuccessful experiments occasion only a
moderate loss to himself. His successful ones
contribute to the improvement and better cultivation
of the whole country. It might be
of importance, however, that the abatement of
the tax should encourage him to cultivate to
a certain extent only. If the landlords should,
the greater part of them, be tempted to farm
the whole of their own lands, the country (instead
of sober and industrious tenants, who
are bound by their own interest to cultivate
as well as their capital and skill will allow
them) would be filled with idle and profligate
bailiffs, whose abusive management would
soon degrade the cultivation, and reduce the
annual produce of the land, to the diminution,
not only of the revenue of their masters,
but of the most important part of that of the
whole society.
Such a system of administration might,
perhaps, free a tax of this kind from any degree
of uncertainty, which could occasion either oppression
or inconveniency to the contributor;
and might, at the same time, serve to introduce
into the common management of land
such a plan of policy as might contribute a
good deal to the general improvement and
good cultivation of the country.
The expense of levying a land-tax, which
varied with every variation of the rent, would,
no doubt, be somewhat greater than that of
levying one which was always rated according
to a fixed valuation. Some additional expense
would necessarily be incurred, both by the
different register-offices which it would be
proper to establish in the different districts
of the country, and by the different valuations
which might occasionally be made of the lands
which the proprietor chose to occupy himself.
The expense of all this, however, might be
very moderate, and much below what is incurred
in the levying of many other taxes, which
afford a very inconsiderable revenue in comparison
of what might easily be drawn from a
tax of this kind.
The discouragement which a variable land-tax
of this kind might give to the improvement
of land, seems to be the most important
objection which can be made to it. The landlord
would certainly be less disposed to improve,
when the sovereign, who contributed
nothing to the expense, was to share in the
profit of the improvement. Even this objection
might, perhaps, be obviated, by allowing
the landlord, before he began his improvement,
to ascertain, in conjunction with the officers
of revenue, the actual value of his lands, according
to the equitable arbitration of a certain
number of landlords and farmers in the
neighbourhood, equally chosen by both parties:
and by rating him, according to this valuation,
for such a number of years as might
be fully sufficient for his complete indemnification.
To draw the attention of the sovereign
towards the improvement of the land,
from a regard to the increase of his own revenue,
is one of the principal advantages proposed
by this species of land-tax. The term,
therefore, allowed, for the indemnification of
the landlord, ought not to be a great deal
longer than what was necessary for that purpose,
lest the remoteness of the interest should
discourage too much this attention. It had
better, however, be somewhat too long, than
in any respect too short. No incitement to
the attention of the sovereign can ever counterbalance
the smallest discouragement to that
of the landlord. The attention of the sovereign
can be, at best, but a very general and
vague consideration of what is likely to contribute
to the better cultivation of the greater
part of his dominions. The attention of the
landlord is a particular and minute consideration
of what is likely to be the most advantageous
application of every inch of ground
upon his estate. The principal attention of
the sovereign ought to be, to encourage, by
every means in his power, the attention both
of the landlord and of the farmer, by allowing
both to pursue their own interest in their
own way, and according to their own judgment;
by giving to both the most perfect security
that they shall enjoy the full recompence
of their own industry; and by procuring
to both the most extensive market for
every part of their produce, in consequence
of establishing the easiest and safest communications,
both by land and by water, through
every part of his own dominions, as well as
the most unbounded freedom of exportation
to the dominions of all other princes.
If, by such a system of administration, a
tax of this kind could be so managed as to
give, not only no discouragement, but, on the
contrary, some encouragement to the improvement
of land, it does not appear likely to occasion
any other inconveniency to the landlord,
except always the unavoidable one of
being obliged to pay the tax.
In all the variations of the state of the society,
in the improvement and in the declension
of agriculture; in all the variations in
the value of silver, and in all those in the
standard of the coin, a tax of this kind would,
of its own accord, and without any attention
of government, readily suit itself to the actual
situation of things, and would be equally just
and equitable in all those different changes.
It would, therefore, be much more proper to
be established as a perpetual and unalterable
regulation, or as what is called a fundamental
law of the commonwealth, than any tax which
was always to be levied according to a certain
valuation.
Some states, instead of the simple and obvious
expedient of a register of leases, have
had recourse to the laborious and expensive
one of an actual survey and valuation of all
the lands in the country. They have suspected,
probably, that the lessor and lessee, in order
to defraud the public revenue, might combine
to conceal the real terms of the lease.
Doomsday-book seems to have been the result
of a very accurate survey of this kind.
In the ancient dominions of the king of
Prussia, the land-tax is assessed according to an
actual survey and valuation, which is reviewed
and altered from time to time.[54] According
to that valuation, the lay proprietors pay
from twenty to twenty-five per cent. of their
revenue; ecclesiastics from forty to forty-five
per cent. The survey and valuation of Silesia
was made by order of the present king, it
is said, with great accuracy. According to
that valuation, the lands belonging to the
bishop of Breslaw are taxed at twenty-five
per cent. of their rent. The other revenues
of the ecclesiastics of both religions at fifty
per cent. The commanderies of the Teutonic
order, and of that of Malta, at forty per cent.
Lands held by a noble tenure, at thirty-eight
and one-third per cent. Lands held by a
base tenure, at thirty-five and one-third per
cent.
The survey and valuation of Bohemia is
said to have been the work of more than a
hundred years. It was not perfected till after
the peace of 1748, by the orders of the present
empress queen.[55] The survey of the duchy
of Milan, which was begun in the time of
Charles VI., was not perfected till after 1760.
It is esteemed one of the most accurate that
has ever been made. The survey of Savoy
and Piedmont was executed under the orders
of the late king of Sardinia.[56]
In the dominions of the king of Prussia,
the revenue of the church is taxed much higher
than that of lay proprietors. The revenue of
the church is, the greater part of it, a burden
upon the rent of land. It seldom happens
that any part of it is applied towards the improvement
of land; or is so employed as to
contribute, in any respect, towards increasing
the revenue of the great body of the people.
His Prussian majesty had probably, upon
that account, thought it reasonable that it
should contribute a good deal more towards
relieving the exigencies of the state. In some
countries, the lands of the church are exempted
from all taxes. In others, they are taxed
more lightly than other lands. In the duchy
of Milan, the lands which the church possessed
before 1575, are rated to the tax at a third
only of their value.
In Silesia, lands held by a noble tenure are
taxed three per cent. higher than those held
by a base tenure. The honours and privileges
of different kinds annexed to the former,
his Prussian majesty had probably imagined,
would sufficiently compensate to the
proprietor a small aggravation of the tax;
while, at the same time, the humiliating inferiority
of the latter would be in some measure
alleviated, by being taxed somewhat more
lightly. In other countries, the system of
taxation, instead of alleviating, aggravates this
inequality. In the dominions of the king of
Sardinia, and in those provinces of France
which are subject to what is called the real or
predial taille, the tax falls altogether upon the
lands held by a base tenure. Those held by a
noble one are exempted.
A land tax assessed according to a general
survey and valuation, how equal soever it may
be at first, must, in the course of a very moderate
period of time, become unequal. To
prevent its becoming so would require the
continual and painful attention of government
to all the variations in the state and
produce of every different farm in the country.
The governments of Prussia, of Bohemia,
of Sardinia, and of the duchy of Milan,
actually exert an attention of this kind; an
attention so unsuitable to the nature of government,
that it is not likely to be of long
continuance, and which, if it is continued, will
probably, in the long-run, occasion much more
trouble and vexation then it can possibly bring
relief to the contributors.
In 1666, the generality of Montauban was
assessed to the real or predial taille, according,
it is said, to a very exact survey and valuation.[57]
By 1727, this assessment had become
altogether unequal. In order to remedy
this inconveniency, government has found no
better expedient, than to impose upon the
whole generality an additional tax of a hundred
and twenty thousand livres. This additional
tax is rated upon all the different districts
subject to the taille according to the old
assessment. But it is levied only upon those
which, in the actual state of things, are by
that assessment under-taxed; and it is applied
to the relief of those which, by the same assessment,
are over-taxed. Two districts, for
example, one of which ought, in the actual
state of things, to be taxed at nine hundred,
the other at eleven hundred livres, are, by the
old assessment, both taxed at a thousand
livres. Both these districts are, by the additional
tax, rated at eleven hundred livres each.
But this additional tax is levied only upon the
district under-charged, and it is applied altogether
to the relief of that overcharged, which
consequently pays only nine hundred livres.
The government neither gains nor loses by
the additional tax, which is applied altogether
to remedy the inequalities arising from the
old assessment. The application is pretty
much regulated according to the discretion of
the intendant of the generality, and must,
therefore, be in a great measure arbitrary.
Taxes upon the produce of land are, in
reality, taxes upon the rent; and though they
may be originally advanced by the farmer,
are finally paid by the landlord. When a
certain portion of the produce is to be paid
away for a tax, the farmer computes as well
as he can, what the value of this portion is, one
year with another, likely to amount to, and he
makes a proportionable abatement in the rent
which he agrees to pay to the landlord.
There is no farmer who does not compute before
hand what the church tythe, which is a
land tax of this kind, is, one year with another,
likely to amount to.
The tythe, and every other land tax of this
kind, under the appearance of perfect equality,
are very unequal taxes; a certain portion
of the produce being in different situations,
equivalent to a very different portion
of the rent. In some very rich lands, the
produce is so great, that the one half of it is
fully sufficient to replace to the farmer his
capital employed in cultivation, together with
the ordinary profits of farming stock in the
neighbourhood. The other half, or, what
comes to the same thing, the value of the
other half, he could afford to pay as rent to
the landlord, if there was no tythe. But if
a tenth of the produce is taken from him in
the way of tythe, he must require an abatement
of the fifth part of his rent, otherwise
he cannot get back his capital with the ordinary
profit. In this case, the rent of the
landlord, instead of amounting to a half, or
five-tenths of the whole produce, will amount
only to four-tenths of it. In poorer lands,
on the contrary, the produce is sometimes so
small, and the expense of cultivation so great,
that it requires four-fifths of the whole produce,
to replace to the farmer his capital with
the ordinary profit. In this case, though
there was no tythe, the rent of the landlord
could amount to no more than one-fifth or
two-tenths of the whole produce. But if the
farmer pays one-tenth of the produce in the
way of tythe, he must require an equal abatement
of the rent of the landlord, which will
thus be reduced to one-tenth only of the
whole produce. Upon the rent of rich lands
the tythe may sometimes be a tax of no more
than one-fifth part, or four shillings in the
pound; whereas upon that of poorer lands, it
may sometimes be a tax of one half, or of ten
shillings in the pound.
The tythe, as it is frequently a very unequal
tax upon the rent, so it is always a great
discouragement, both to the improvements of
the landlord, and to the cultivation of the farmer.
The one cannot venture to make the
most important, which are generally the most
expensive improvements; nor the other to
raise the most valuable, which are generally,
too, the most expensive crops; when the
church, which lays out no part of the expense,
is to share so very largely in the profit. The
cultivation of madder was, for a long time,
confined by the tythe to the United Provinces,
which, being presbyterian countries, and
upon that account exempted from this destructive
tax, enjoyed a sort of monopoly of that
useful dyeing drug against the rest of Europe.
The late attempts to introduce the
culture of this plant into England, have been
made only in consequence of the statute,
which enacted that five shillings an acre should
be received in lieu of all manner of tythe upon
madder.
As through the greater part of Europe, the
church, so in many different countries of
Asia, the state, is principally supported by a
land tax, proportioned not to the rent, but to
the produce of the land. In China, the
principal revenue of the sovereign consists in
a tenth part of the produce of all the lands of
the empire. This tenth part, however, is estimated
so very moderately, that, in many
provinces, it is said not to exceed a thirtieth
part of the ordinary produce. The land tax
or land rent which used to be paid to the Mahometan
government of Bengal, before that
country fell into the hands of the English East
India company, is said to have amounted to
about a fifth part of the produce. The land
tax of ancient Egypt is said likewise to have
amounted to a fifth part.
In Asia, this sort of land tax is said to interest
the sovereign in the improvement and
cultivation of land. The sovereigns of
China, those of Bengal while under the Mahometan
government, and those of ancient
Egypt, are said, accordingly, to have been
extremely attentive to the making and maintaining
of good roads and navigable canals,
in order to increase, as much as possible,
both the quantity and value of every part of
the produce of the land, by procuring to
every part of it the most extensive market
which their own dominions could afford.
The tythe of the church is divided into such
small portions that no one of its proprietors
can have any interest of this kind. The parson
of a parish could never find his account
in making a road or canal to a distant part of
the country, in order to extend the market
for the produce of his own particular parish.
Such taxes, when destined for the maintenance
of the state, have some advantages,
which may serve in some measure to balance
their inconveniency. When destined for the
maintenance of the church, they are attended
with nothing but inconveniency.
Taxes upon the produce of land may be
levied, either in kind, or, according to a certain
valuation in money.
The person of a parish, or a gentleman of
small fortune who lives upon his estate, may
sometimes, perhaps find some advantage in
receiving, the one his tythe, and the other his
rent, in kind. The quantity to be collected,
and the district within which it is to be collected,
are so small, that they both can oversee,
with their own eyes, the collection and
disposal of every part of what is due to them.
A gentleman of great fortune, who lived in
the capital, would be in danger of suffering
much by the neglect, and more by the fraud,
of his factors and agents, if the rents of an
estate in a distant province were to be paid
to him in this manner. The loss of the sovereign,
from the abuse and depredation of
his tax-gatherers, would necessarily be much
greater. The servants of the most careless
private person are, perhaps, more under the
eye of their master than those of the most
careful prince; and a public revenue, which
was paid in kind, would suffer so much from
the mismanagement of the collectors, that a
very small part of what was levied upon the
people would ever arrive at the treasury of
the prince. Some part of the public revenue
of China, however, is said to be paid in this
manner. The mandarins and other tax-gatherers
will, no doubt, find their advantage in
continuing the practice of a payment, which
is so much more liable to abuse than any payment
in money.
A tax upon the produce of land, which is
levied in money, may be levied, either according
to a valuation, which varies with all the
variations of the market price; or according
to a fixed valuation, a bushel of wheat, for
example, being always valued at one and the
same money price, whatever may be the state
of the market. The produce of a tax levied
in the former way will vary only according
to the variations in the real produce of the
land, according to the improvement or neglect
of cultivation. The produce of a tax
levied in the latter way will vary, not only
according to the variations in the produce of
the land, but according both to those in the
value of the precious metals, and those in the
quantity of those metals, which is at different
times contained in coin of the same denomination.
The produce of the former will always
bear the same proportion to the value
of the real produce of the land. The produce
of the latter may, at different times,
bear very different proportions to that value.
When, instead either of a certain portion of
the produce of land, or of the price of a
certain portion, a certain sum of money is to
be paid in full compensation for all tax or
tythe; the tax becomes, in this case, exactly
of the same nature with the land tax of England.
It neither rises nor falls with the rent
of the land. It neither encourages nor discourages
improvement. The tythe in the
greater part of those parishes which pay what
is called a modus, in lieu of all other tythe,
is a tax of this kind. During the Mahometan
government of Bengal, instead of the
payment in kind of the fifth part of the produce,
a modus, and, it is said, a very moderate
one, was established in the greater part
of the districts or zemindaries of the country.
Some of the servants of the East India company,
under pretence of restoring the public
revenue to its proper value, have, in some
provinces, exchanged this modus for a payment
in kind. Under their management,
this change is likely both to discourage cultivation,
and to give new opportunities for
abuse in the collection of the public revenue,
which has fallen very much below what it
was said to have been when it first fell under
the management of the company. The servants
of the company may, perhaps, have
profited by the change, but at the expense, it
is probable, both of their masters and of the
country.
The rent of a house may be distinguished
into two parts, of which the one may very
properly be called the building-rent; the
other is commonly called the ground-rent.
The building-rent is the interest or profit
of the capital expended in building the house.
In order to put the trade of a builder upon a
level with other trades, it is necessary that
this rent should be sufficient, first, to pay him
the same interest which he would have got
for his capital, if he had lent it upon good
security; and, secondly, to keep the house in
constant repair, or, what comes to the same
thing, to replace, within a certain term of
years, the capital which had been employed
in building it. The building-rent, or the
ordinary profit of building, is, therefore,
everywhere regulated by the ordinary interest
of money. Where the market rate of interest
is four per cent. the rent of a house, which,
over and above paying the ground-rent, affords
six or six and a-half per cent. upon the
whole expense of building, may, perhaps,
afford a sufficient profit to the builder.
Where the market rate of interest is five per
cent. it may perhaps require seven or seven
and a-half per cent. If, in proportion to the
interest of money, the trade of the builders
affords at any time much greater profit than
this, it will soon draw so much capital from
other trades as will reduce the profit to its
proper level. If it affords at any time much
less than this, other trades will soon draw so
much capital from it as will again raise that
profit.
Whatever part of the whole rent of a house
is over and above what is sufficient for affording
this reasonable profit, naturally goes to
the ground-rent; and, where the owner of
the ground and the owner of the building are
two different persons, is, in most cases, completely
paid to the former. This surplus rent
is the price which the inhabitant of the house
pays for some real or supposed advantage of
the situation. In country houses, at a distance
from any great town, where there is
plenty of ground to chuse upon, the ground-rent
is scarce any thing, or no more than
what the ground which the house stands upon
would pay, if employed in agriculture. In
country villas, in the neighbourhood of some
great town, it is sometimes a good deal higher;
and the peculiar conveniency or beauty
of situation is there frequently very well paid
for. Ground-rents are generally highest in
the capital, and in those particular parts of it
where there happens to be the greatest demand
for houses, whatever be the reason of
that demand, whether for trade and business,
for pleasure and society, or for mere vanity
and fashion.
A tax upon house-rent, payable by the tenant,
and proportioned to the whole rent of
each house, could not, for any considerable
time at least, affect the building-rent. If the
builder did not get his reasonable profit, he
would be obliged to quit the trade; which,
by raising the demand for building, would,
in a short time, bring back his profit to its proper
level with that of other trades. Neither
would such a tax fall altogether upon the
ground-rent; but it would divide itself in
such a manner, as to fall partly upon the inhabitant
of the house, and partly upon the
owner of the ground.
Let us suppose, for example, that a particular
person judges that he can afford for
house-rent an expense of sixty pounds a-year;
and let us suppose, too, that a tax of four
shillings in the pound, or of one-fifth, payable
by the inhabitant, is laid upon house-rent.
A house of sixty pounds rent will, in that
case, cost him seventy-two pounds a-year,
which is twelve pounds more than he thinks
he can afford. He will, therefore, content
himself with a worse house, or a house of
fifty pounds rent, which, with the additional
ten pounds that he must pay for the tax, will
make up the sum of sixty pounds a-year,
the expense which he judges he can afford,
and, in order to pay the tax, he will give up
a part of the additional conveniency which he
might have had from a house of ten pounds
a-year more rent. He will give up, I say, a
part of this additional conveniency; for he
will seldom be obliged to give up the whole,
but will, in consequence of the tax, get a better
house for fifty pounds a-year, than he
could have got if there had been no tax.
For as a tax of this kind, by taking away
this particular competitor, must diminish the
competition for houses of sixty pounds rent,
so it must likewise diminish it for those of
fifty pounds rent, and in the same manner for
those of all other rents, except the lowest
rent, for which it would for some time increase
the competition. But the rents of
every class of houses for which the competition
was diminished, would necessarily be
more or less reduced. As no part of this reduction,
however, could for any considerable
time at least, affect the building-rent, the
whole of it must, in the long-run, necessarily
fall upon the ground-rent. The final payment
of this tax, therefore, would fall partly
upon the inhabitant of the house, who, in order
to pay his share, would be obliged to give up
part of his conveniency; and partly upon the
owner of the ground, who, in order to pay
his share, would be obliged to give up a part
of his revenue. In what proportion this final
payment would be divided between them, it
is not, perhaps, very easy to ascertain. The
division would probably be very different in
different circumstances, and a tax of this kind
might, according to those different circumstances,
affect very unequally, both the inhabitant
of the house and the owner of the ground.
The inequality with which a tax of this
kind might fall upon the owners of different
ground-rents, would arise altogether from the
accidental inequality of this division. But
the inequality with which it might fall upon
the inhabitants of different houses, would arise,
not only from this, but from another cause.
The proportion of the expense of house-rent
to the whole expense of living, is different in
the different degrees of fortune. It is, perhaps,
highest in the highest degree, and it
diminishes gradually through the inferior degrees,
so as in general to be lowest in the
lowest degree. The necessaries of life occasion
the great expense of the poor. They
find it difficult to get food, and the greater
part of their little revenue is spent in getting
it. The luxuries and vanities of life occasion
the principal expense of the rich; and a magnificent
house embellishes and sets off to the best
advantage all the other luxuries and vanities
which they possess. A tax upon house-rents,
therefore, would in general fall heaviest upon
the rich; and in this sort of inequality there
would not, perhaps, be any thing very unreasonable.
It is not very unreasonable that
the rich should contribute to the public expense,
not only in proportion to their revenue,
but something more than in that proportion.
The rent of houses, though it in some respects
resembles the rent of land, is in one
respect essentially different from it. The
rent of land is paid for the use of a productive
subject. The land which pays it produces
it. The rent of houses is paid for the
use of an unproductive subject. Neither the
house, nor the ground which it stands upon,
produce any thing. The person who pays the
rent, therefore, must draw it from some other
source of revenue, distinct from and independent
of this subject. A tax upon the rent of
houses, so far as it falls upon the inhabitants,
must be drawn from the same source as the
rent itself, and must be paid from their revenue,
whether derived from the wages of
labour, the profits of stock, or the rent of
land. So far as it falls upon the inhabitants,
it is one of those taxes which fall, not upon
one only, but indifferently upon all the three
different sources of revenue; and is, in every
respect, of the same nature as a tax upon any
any other sort of consumable commodities. In
general, there is not perhaps, any one article
of expense or consumption by which the liberality
or narrowness of a man's whole expense
can be better judged of than by his
house-rent. A proportional tax upon this
particular article of expense might, perhaps,
produce a more considerable revenue than any
which has hitherto been drawn from it in any
part of Europe. If the tax, indeed, was very
high, the greater part of people would endeavour
to evade it as much as they could, by
contenting themselves with smaller houses,
and by turning the greater part of their expense
into some other channel.
The rent of houses might easily be ascertained
with sufficient accuracy, by a policy of
the same kind with that which would be necessary
for ascertaining the ordinary rent of
land. Houses not inhabited ought to pay no
tax. A tax upon them would fall altogether
upon the proprietor, who would thus be taxed
for a subject which afforded him neither conveniency
nor revenue. Houses inhabited by
the proprietor ought to be rated, not according
to the expense which they might have cost
in building, but according to the rent which
an equitable arbitration might judge them
likely to bring if leased to a tenant. If rated
according to the expense which they might
have cost in building, a tax of three or four
shillings in the pound, joined with other taxes,
would ruin almost all the rich and great families
of this, and, I believe, of every other civilized
country. Whoever will examine with
attention the different town and country houses
of some of the richest and greatest families in
this country, will find that, at the rate of only
six and a-half, or seven per cent. upon the
original expense of building, their house-rent
is nearly equal to the whole neat rent of their
estates. It is the accumulated expense of several
successive generations, laid out upon objects
of great beauty and magnificence, indeed,
but, in proportion to what they cost, of
very small exchangeable value.[58]
Ground-rents are a still more proper subject
of taxation than the rent of houses. A
tax upon ground-rents would not raise the
rent of houses; it would fall altogether upon
the owner of the ground-rent, who acts always
as a monopolist, and exacts the greatest rent
which can be got for the use of his ground.
More or less can be got for it, according as
the competitors happen to be richer or poorer,
or can afford to gratify their fancy for a particular
spot of ground at a greater or smaller
expense. In every country, the greatest
number of rich competitors is in the capital,
and it is there accordingly that the highest
ground-rents are always to be found. As the
wealth of those competitors would in no respect
be increased by a tax upon ground-rents,
they would not probably be disposed to pay
more for the use of the ground. Whether the
tax was to be advanced by the inhabitant or
by the owner of the ground, would be of little
importance. The more the inhabitant was
obliged to pay for the tax, the less he would
incline to pay for the ground; so that the final
payment of the tax would fall altogether upon
the owner of the ground-rent. The ground-rents
of uninhabited houses ought to pay no tax.
Both ground-rents, and the ordinary rent of
land, are a species of revenue which the owner,
in many cases, enjoys without any care or attention
of his own. Though a part of this
revenue should be taken from him in order to
defray the expenses of the state, no discouragement
will thereby be given to any sort of
industry. The annual produce of the land and
labour of the society, the real wealth and revenue
of the great body of the people, might
be the same after such a tax as before.
Ground-rents, and the ordinary rent of land,
are therefore, perhaps, the species of revenue
which can best bear to have a peculiar tax imposed
upon them.
Ground-rents seem, in this respect, a more
proper subject of peculiar taxation, than even
the ordinary rent of land. The ordinary rent
of land is, in many cases, owing partly, at
least, to the attention and good management of
the landlord. A very heavy tax might discourage,
too much, this attention and good
management. Ground-rents, so far as they
exceed the ordinary rent of land, are altogether
owing to the good government of the sovereign,
which, by protecting the industry either
of the whole people or of the inhabitants of
some particular place, enables them to pay
so much more than its real value for the ground
which they build their houses upon; or to
make to its owner so much more than compensation
for the loss which he might sustain
by this use of it. Nothing can be more reasonable,
than that a fund, which owes its existence
to the good government of the state,
should be taxed peculiarly, or should contribute
something more than the greater part of
other funds, towards the support of that government.
Though, in many different countries of
Europe, taxes have been imposed upon the
rent of houses, I do not know of any in
which ground-rents have been considered as
a separate subject of taxation. The contrivers
of taxes have, probably, found some difficulty
in ascertaining what part of the rent ought to
be considered as ground-rent, and what part
ought to be considered as building-rent. It
should not, however, seem very difficult to
distinguish those two parts of the rent from
one another.
In Great Britain the rent of houses is supposed
to be taxed in the same proportion
as the rent of land, by what is called the annual
land tax. The valuation, according to
which each different parish and district is assessed
to this tax, is always the same. It was
originally extremely unequal, and it still continues
to be so. Through the greater part of
the kingdom this tax falls still more lightly
upon the rent of houses than upon that of
land. In some few districts only, which
were originally rated high, and in which the
rents of houses have fallen considerably, the
land tax of three or four shillings in the pound
is said to amount to an equal proportion of
the real rent of houses. Untenanted houses,
though by law subject to the tax, are, in most
districts, exempted from it by the favour of
assessors; and this exemption sometimes
occasions some little variation in the rate of
particular houses, though that of the district
is always the same. Improvements of rent,
by new buildings, repairs, &c. go to the discharge
of the district, which occasions still
further variations in the rate of particular
houses.
In the province of Holland,[59] every house
is taxed at two and a-half per cent. of its
value, without any regard, either to the rent
which it actually pays, or to the circumstance
of its being tenanted or untenanted. There
seems to be a hardship in obliging the proprietor
to pay a tax for an untenanted house,
from which he can derive no revenue, especially
so very heavy a tax. In Holland,
where the market rate of interest does not
exceed three per cent., two and a-half per
cent. upon the whole value of the house
must, in most cases, amount to more than a
third of the building-rent, perhaps of the
whole rent. The valuation, indeed, according
to which the houses are rated, though very
unequal, in said to be always below the real
value. When a house is rebuilt, improved, or
enlarged, there is a new valuation, and the
tax is rated accordingly.
The contrivers of the several taxes which
in England have, at different times, been imposed
upon houses, seem to have imagined
that there was some great difficulty in ascertaining,
with tolerable exactness, what was the real
rent of every house. They have regulated
their taxes, therefore, according to some more
obvious circumstance, such as they had probably
imagined would, in most cases, bear some
proportion to the rent.
The first tax of this kind was hearth-money;
or a tax of two shillings upon every hearth.
In order to ascertain how many hearths were
in the house, it was necessary that the tax-gatherer
should enter every room in it. This
odious visit rendered the tax odious. Soon
after the Revolution, therefore, it was abolished
as a badge of slavery.
The next tax of this kind was a tax of two
shillings upon every dwelling-house inhabited.
A house with ten windows to pay four shillings
more. A house with twenty windows
and upwards to pay eight shillings. This tax
was afterwards so far altered, that houses with
twenty windows, and with less than thirty,
were ordered to pay ten shillings, and those
with thirty windows and upwards to pay twenty
shillings. The number of windows can, in
most cases, be counted from the outside, and,
in all cases, without entering every room in
the house. The visit of the tax-gatherer, therefore,
was less offensive in this tax than in the
hearth-money.
This tax was afterwards repealed, and in
the room of it was established the window-tax,
which has undergone two several alterations
and augmentations. The window tax, as it
stands at present (January 1775), over and
above the duty of three shillings upon every
house in England, and of one shilling upon
every house in Scotland, lays a duty upon
every window, which in England augments
gradually from twopence, the lowest rate upon
houses with not more than seven windows, to
two shillings, the highest rate upon houses
with twenty-five windows and upwards.
The principal objection to all such taxes is
their inequality; an inequality of the worst
kind, as they must frequently fall much heavier
upon the poor than upon the rich. A
house of ten pounds rent in a country town,
may sometimes have more windows than a
house of five hundred pounds rent in London;
and though the inhabitant of the former
in likely to be a much poorer man than that of
the latter, yet, so far as his contribution is regulated
by the window tax, he must contribute
more to the support of the state. Such
taxes are, therefore, directly contrary to the
first of the four maxims above mentioned.
They do not seem to offend much against any
of the other three.
The natural tendency of the window tax,
and of all other taxes upon houses, is to lower
rents. The more a man pays for the tax, the
less, it is evident, he can afford to pay for the
rent. Since the imposition of the window tax,
however, the rents of houses have, upon the
whole, risen more or less, in almost every
town and village of Great Britain, with which
I am acquainted. Such has been, almost
everywhere, the increase of the demand for
houses, that it has raised the rents more than
the window tax could sink them; one of the
many proofs of the great prosperity of the
country, and of the increasing revenue of its
inhabitants. Had it not been for the tax,
rents would probably have risen still higher.
The revenue or profit arising from stock
naturally divides itself into two parts; that
which pays the interest, and which belongs to
the owner of the stock; and that surplus part
which is over and above what is necessary for
paying the interest.
This latter part of profit is evidently a subject
not taxable directly. It is the compensation,
and, in most cases, it is no more than a
very moderate compensation for the risk and
trouble of employing the stock. The employer
must have this compensation, otherwise he cannot,
consistently with his own interest, continue
the employment. If he was taxed directly,
therefore, in proportion to the whole
profit, he would be obliged either to raise the
rate of his profit, or to charge the tax upon
the interest of money; that is, to pay less interest.
If he raised the rate of his profit in
proportion to the tax, the whole tax, though
it might be advanced by him, would be finally
paid by one or other of two different sets
of people, according to the different ways in
which he might employ the stock of which he
had the management. If he employed it as
a farming stock, in the cultivation of land,
he could raise the rate of his profit only by retaining
a greater portion, or, what comes to
the same thing, the price of a greater portion,
of the produce of the land; and as this could
be done only by a reduction of rent, the final
payment of the tax would fall upon the landlord.
If he employed it as a mercantile or
manufacturing stock, he could raise the rate
of his profit only by raising the price of his
goods; in which case, the final payment of
the tax would fall altogether upon the consumers
of those goods. If he did not raise
the rate of his profit, he would be obliged to
charge the whole tax upon that part of it
which was allotted for the interest of money.
He could afford less interest for whatever
stock he borrowed, and the whole weight of
the tax would, in this case, fall ultimately upon
the interest of money. So far as he could
not relieve himself from the tax in the one
way, he would be obliged to relieve himself
in the other.
The interest of money seems, at first sight,
a subject equally capable of being taxed directly
as the rent of land. Like the rent of
land, it is a neat produce, which remains, after
completely compensating the whole risk and
trouble of employing the stock. As a tax
upon the rent of land cannot raise rents, because
the neat produce which remains, after
replacing the stock of the farmer, together
with his reasonable profit, cannot be greater
after the tax than before it, so, for the same
reason, a tax upon the interest of money could
not raise the rate of interest; the quantity of
stock or money in the country, like the quantity
of land, being supposed to remain the
same after the tax as before it. The ordinary
rate of profit, it has been shewn, in the
first book, is everywhere regulated by the
quantity of stock to be employed, in proportion
to the quantity of the employment, or of
the business which must be done by it. But
the quantity of the employment, or of the business
to be done by stock, could neither be
increased nor diminished by any tax upon the
interest of money. If the quantity of the
stock to be employed, therefore, was neither
increased nor diminished by it, the ordinary
rate of profit would necessarily remain the
same. But the portion of this profit, necessary
for compensating the risk and trouble of
the employer, would likewise remain the same;
that risk and trouble being in no respect altered.
The residue, therefore, that portion
which belongs to the owner of the stock, and
which pays the interest of money, would necessarily
remain the same too. At first sight,
therefore, the interest of money seems to be a
subject as fit to be taxed directly as the rent
of land.
There are, however, two different circumstances,
which render the interest of money a
much less proper subject of direct taxation
than the rent of land.
First, the quantity and value of the land
which any man possesses, can never be a secret,
and can always be ascertained with great
exactness. But the whole amount of the capital
stock which he possesses is almost always
a secret, and can scarce ever be ascertained
with tolerable exactness. It is liable, besides,
to almost continual variations. A year seldom
passes away, frequently not a month,
sometimes scarce a single day, in which it does
not rise or fall more or less. An inquisition
into every man's private circumstances, and
an inquisition which, in order to accommodate
the tax to them, watched over all the
fluctuations of his fortune, would be a source
of such continual and endless vexation as no
person could support.
Secondly, land is a subject which cannot be
removed; whereas stock easily may. The
proprietor of land is necessarily a citizen of
the particular country in which his estate lies.
The proprietor of stock is properly a citizen
of the world, and is not necessarily attached
to any particular country. He would be apt
to abandon the country in which he was exposed
to a vexatious inquisition, in order to
be assessed to a burdensome tax; and would
remove his stock to some other country, where
he could either carry on his business, or enjoy
his fortune more at his ease. By removing
his stock, he would put an end to all the
industry which it had maintained in the country
which he left. Stock cultivates land; stock
employs labour. A tax which tended to drive
away stock from any particular country, would
so far tend to dry up every source of revenue,
both to the sovereign and to the society.
Not only the profits of stock, but the rent
of land, and the wages of labour, would necessarily
be more or less diminished by its removal.
The nations, accordingly, who have attempted
to tax the revenue arising from
stock, instead of any severe inquisition of this
kind, have been obliged to content themselves
with some very loose, and, therefore, more or
less arbitrary estimation. The extreme inequality
and uncertainty of a tax assessed in
this manner, can be compensated only by its
extreme moderation; in consequence of
which, every man finds himself rated so very
much below his real revenue, that he gives
himself little disturbance though his neighbour
should be rated somewhat lower.
By what is called the land tax in England,
it was intended that the stock should be taxed
in the same proportion as land. When the
tax upon land was at four shillings in the
pound, or at one-fifth of the supposed rent,
it was intended that stock should be taxed at
one-fifth of the supposed interest. When the
present annual land tax was first imposed, the
legal rate of interest was six per cent. Every
hundred pounds stock, accordingly, was supposed
to be taxed at twenty-four shillings,
the fifth part of six pounds. Since the legal
rate of interest has been reduced to five per
cent. every hundred pounds stock is supposed
to be taxed at twenty shillings only. The
sum to be raised, by what is called the land
tax, was divided between the country and the
principal towns. The greater part of it was
laid upon the country; and of what was laid
upon the towns, the greater part was assessed
upon the houses. What remained to be
assessed upon the stock or trade of the towns
(for the stock upon the land was not meant
to be taxed) was very much below the real
value of that stock or trade. Whatever inequalities,
therefore, there might be in the original
assessment, gave little disturbance.
Every parish and district still continues to be
rated for its land, its houses, and its stock,
according to the original assessment; and
the almost universal prosperity of the country,
which, in most places, has raised very much
the value of all these, has rendered those
inequalities of still less importance now. The
rate, too, upon each district, continuing always
the same, the uncertainty of this tax,
so far as it might be assessed upon the stock
of any individual, has been very much diminished,
as well as rendered of much less
consequence. If the greater part of the lands
of England are not rated to the land tax at
half their actual value, the greater part of the
stock of England is, perhaps, scarce rated at
the fiftieth part of its actual value. In some
towns, the whole land tax is assessed upon
houses; as in Westminster, where stock and
trade are free. It is otherwise in London.
In all countries, a severe inquisition into
the circumstances of private persons has been
carefully avoided.
At Hamburg,[60] every inhabitant is obliged
to pay to the state one fourth per cent. of all
that he possesses; and as the wealth of the
people of Hamburg consists principally in
stock, this tax may be considered as a tax
upon stock. Every man assesses himself,
and, in the presence of the magistrate, puts
annually into the public coffer a certain sum
of money, which he declares upon oath, to be
one fourth per cent. of all that he possesses,
but without declaring what it amounts to, or
being liable to any examination upon that
subject. This tax is generally supposed to
be paid with great fidelity. In a small republic,
where the people have entire confidence
in their magistrates, are convinced of
the necessity of the tax for the support of the
state, and believe that it will be faithfully applied
to that purpose, such conscientious and
voluntary payment may sometimes be expected.
It is not peculiar to the people of Hamburg.
The canton of Underwald, in Switzerland,
is frequently ravaged by storms and inundations,
and it is thereby exposed to extraordinary
expenses. Upon such occasions the
people assemble, and every one is said to
declare with the greatest frankness what he is
worth, in order to be taxed accordingly. At
Zurich, the law orders, that in cases of necessity,
every one should be taxed in proportion
to his revenue; the amount of which he is
obliged to declare upon oath. They have no
suspicion, it is said, that any of their fellow-citizens
will deceive them. At Basil, the
principal revenue of the state arises from a
small custom upon goods exported. All the
citizens make oath, that they will pay every
three months all the taxes imposed by law.
All merchants, and even all inn-keepers, are
trusted with keeping themselves the account
of the goods which they sell, either within or
without the territory. At the end of every
three months, they send this account to the
treasurer, with the amount of the tax computed
at the bottom of it. It is not suspected
that the revenue suffers by this confidence.[61]
To oblige every citizen to declare publicly
upon oath, the amount of his fortune, must
not, it seems, in those Swiss cantons, be reckoned
a hardship. At Hamburg it would
be reckoned the greatest. Merchants engaged
in the hazardous projects of trade, all
tremble at the thoughts of being obliged, at
all times, to expose the real state of their circumstances.
The ruin of their credit, and
the miscarriage of their projects, they foresee,
would too often be the consequence.
A sober and parsimonious people, who are
strangers to all such projects, do not feel that
they have occasion for any such concealment.
In Holland, soon after the exaltation of
the late prince of Orange to the stadtholdership,
a tax of two per cent. or the fiftieth
penny, as it was called, was imposed upon the
whole substance of every citizen. Every citizen
assessed himself, and paid his tax, in the
same manner as at Hamburg, and it was in
general supposed to have been paid with
great fidelity. The people had at that time
the greatest affection for their new government,
which they had just established by a general
insurrection. The tax was to be paid but
once, in order to relieve the state in a particular
exigency. It was, indeed, too heavy
to be permanent. In a country where the
market rate of interest seldom exceeds three
per cent., a tax of two per cent. amounts to
thirteen shillings and four pence in the
pound, upon the highest neat revenue which
is commonly drawn from stock. It is a tax
which very few people could pay, without
encroaching more or less upon their capitals.
In a particular exigency, the people may,
from great public zeal, make a great effort,
and give up even a part of their capital, in
order to relieve the state. But it is impossible
that they should continue to do so for any
considerable time; and if they did, the tax
would soon ruin them so completely, as to
render them altogether incapable of supporting
the state.
The tax upon stock, imposed by the land
tax bill in England, though it is proportioned
to the capital, is not intended to diminish or
take away any part of that capital. It is
meant only to be a tax upon the interest of
money, proportioned to that upon the rent of
land; so that when the latter is at four shillings
in the pound, the former may be at four
shillings in the pound too. The tax at Hamburg,
and the still more moderate taxes of
Underwald and Zurich, are meant, in the
same manner, to be taxes, not upon the capital,
but upon the interest or neat revenue of
stock. That of Holland was meant to be a
tax upon the capital.
In some countries, extraordinary taxes are
imposed upon the profits of stock; sometimes
when employed in particular branches of
trade, and sometimes when employed in agriculture.
Of the former kind, are in England, the
tax upon hawkers and pedlars, that upon
hackney-coaches and chairs, and that which
the keepers of ale-houses pay for a licence to
retail ale and spiritous liquors. During the
late war, another tax of the same kind was
proposed upon shops. The war having been
undertaken, it was said, in defence of the
trade of the country, the merchants, who were
to profit by it, ought to contribute towards
the support of it.
A tax, however, upon the profits of stock
employed in any particular branch of trade,
can never fall finally upon the dealers (who
must in all ordinary cases have their reasonable
profit, and, where the competition is free,
can seldom have more than that profit), but
always upon the consumers, who must be
obliged to pay in the price of the goods the
tax which the dealer advances; and generally
with some overcharge.
A tax of this kind, when it is proportioned
to the trade of the dealer, is finally paid by
the consumer, and occasions no oppression to
the dealer. When it is not so proportioned,
but is the same upon all dealers, though in
this case, too, it is finally paid by the consumer,
yet it favours the great, and occasions
some oppression to the small dealer. The
tax of five shillings a-week upon every hackney
coach, and that of ten shillings a-year
upon every hackney chair, so far as it is
advanced by the different keepers of such
coaches and chairs, is exactly enough proportioned
to the extent of their respective dealings.
It neither favours the great, nor oppresses
the smaller dealer. The tax of
twenty shillings a-year for a licence to sell
ale; of forty shillings for a licence to sell
spiritous liquors; and of forty shillings more
for a licence to sell wine, being the same
upon all retailers, must necessarily give some
advantage to the great, and occasion some
oppression to the small dealers. The former
must find it more easy to get back the tax in
the price of their goods than the latter.
The moderation of the tax, however, renders
this inequality of less importance; and it
may to many people appear not improper to
give some discouragement to the multiplication
of little ale-houses. The tax upon
shops, it was intended, should be the same
upon all shops. It could not well have been
otherwise. It would have been impossible
to proportion, with tolerable exactness, the
tax upon a shop to the extent of the trade
carried on in it, without such an inquisition
as would have been altogether insupportable
in a free country. If the tax had been considerable,
it would have oppressed the small,
and forced almost the whole retail trade into
the hands of the great dealers. The competition
of the former being taken away, the
latter would have enjoyed a monopoly of the
trade; and, like all other monopolists, would
soon have combined to raise their profits
much beyond what was necessary for the payment
of the tax. The final payment, instead
of falling upon the shop-keeper, would have
fallen upon the consumer, with a considerable
overcharge to the profit of the shop-keeper.
For these reasons, the project of a tax upon
shops was laid aside, and in the room of it
was substituted the subsidy, 1759.
What in France is called the personal taille,
is perhaps, the most important tax upon the
profits of stock employed in agriculture, that
is levied in any part of Europe.
In the disorderly state of Europe, during
the prevalence of the feudal government, the
sovereign was obliged to content himself with
taxing those who were too weak to refuse to
pay taxes. The great lords, though willing
to assist him upon particular emergencies,
refused to subject themselves to any constant
tax, and he was not strong enough to force
them. The occupiers of land all over Europe
were, the greater part of them, originally
bond-men. Through the greater part of
Europe, they were gradually emancipated.
Some of them acquired the property of landed
estates, which they held by some base or
ignoble tenure, sometimes under the king,
and sometimes under some other great lord,
like the ancient copy-holders of England.
Others, without acquiring the property, obtained
leases for terms of years, of the lands
which they occupied under their lord, and
thus became less dependent upon him. The
great lords seem to have beheld the degree of
prosperity and independency, which this inferior
order of men had thus come to enjoy,
with a malignant and contemptuous indignation,
and willingly consented that the sovereign
should tax them. In some countries,
this tax was confined to the lands which were
held in property by an ignoble tenure; and,
in this case, the taille was said to be real.
The land tax established by the late king of
Sardinia, and the taille in the provinces of
Languedoc, Provence, Dauphine, and Brittany;
in the generality of Montauban, and
in the elections of Agen and Condom, as well
as in some other districts of France; are
taxes upon lands held in property by an ignoble
tenure. In other countries, the tax
was laid upon the supposed profits of all
those who held, in farm or lease, lands belonging
to other people, whatever might be
the tenure by which the proprietor held them;
and in this case, the taille was said to be personal.
In the greater part of those provinces
of France, which are called the countries of
elections, the taille is of this kind. The real
taille, as it is imposed only upon a part of the
lands of the country, is necessarily an unequal,
but it is not always an arbitrary tax,
though it is so upon some occasions. The
personal taille, as it is intended to be proportioned
to the profits of a certain class of people,
which can only be guessed at, is necessarily
both arbitrary and unequal.
In France, the personal taille at present
(1775) annually imposed upon the twenty
generalities, called the countries of elections,
amounts to 40,107,239 livres, 16 sous.[62]
The proportion in which this sum is assessed
upon those different provinces, varies from
year to year, according to the reports which
are made to the king's council concerning the
goodness or badness of the crops, as well as
other circumstances, which may either increase
or diminish their respective abilities to
pay. Each generality is divided into a certain
number of elections; and the proportion
in which the sum imposed upon the whole
generality is divided among those different
elections, varies likewise from year to year,
according to the reports made to the council
concerning their respective abilities. It
seems impossible, that the council, with the
best intentions, can ever proportion, with tolerable
exactness, either of these two assessments
to the real abilities of the province or
district upon which they are respectively laid.
Ignorance and misinformation must always,
more or less, mislead the most upright council.
The proportion which each parish ought
to support of what is assessed upon the whole
election, and that which each individual
ought to support of what is assessed upon his
particular parish, are both in the same manner
varied from year to year, according as
circumstances are supposed to require. These
circumstances are judged of, in the one case,
by the officers of the election, in the other,
by those of the parish; and both the one and
the other are, more or less, under the direction
and influence of the intendant. Not
only ignorance and misinformation, but
friendship, party animosity, and private resentment,
are said frequently to mislead such
assessors. No man subject to such a tax, it
is evident, can ever be certain, before he is
assessed, of what he is to pay. He cannot
even be certain after he is assessed. If any
person has been taxed who ought to have been
exempted, or if any person has been taxed
beyond his proportion, though both must pay
in the mean time, yet if they complain, and
make good their complaints, the whole parish
is reimposed next year, in order to reimburse
them. If any of the contributors become
bankrupt or insolvent, the collector is obliged
to advance his tax; and the whole parish is
reimposed next year, in order to reimburse
the collector. If the collector himself should
become bankrupt, the parish which elects him
must answer for his conduct to the receiver-general
of the election. But, as it might be
troublesome for the receiver to prosecute the
whole parish, he takes at his choice five or six
of the richest contributors, and obliges them
to make good what had been lost by the insolvency
of the collector. The parish is afterwards
reimposed, in order to reimburse
those five or six. Such reimpositions are always
over and above the taille of the particular
year in which they are laid on.
When a tax is imposed upon the profits of
stock in a particular branch of trade, the
traders are all careful to bring no more goods
to market than what they can sell at a price
sufficient to reimburse them from advancing
the tax. Some of them withdraw a part of
their stocks from the trade, and the market is
more sparingly supplied than before. The
price of the goods rises, and the final payment
of the tax falls upon the consumer. But
when a tax is imposed upon the profits of
stock employed in agriculture, it is not the
interest of the farmers to withdraw any part
of their stock from that employment. Each
farmer occupies a certain quantity of land, for
which he pays rent. For the proper cultivation
of this land, a certain quantity of stock
is necessary; and by withdrawing any part
of this necessary quantity, the farmer is not
likely to be more able to pay either the rent
or the tax. In order to pay the tax, it can
never be his interest to diminish the quantity
of his produce, nor consequently to supply the
market more sparingly than before. The tax,
therefore, will never enable him to raise the
price of his produce, so as to reimburse himself,
by throwing the final payment upon the
consumer. The farmer, however, must have
his reasonable profit as well as every other
dealer, otherwise he must give up the trade.
After the imposition of a tax of this kind, he
can get this reasonable profit only by paying
less rent to the landlord. The more he is
obliged to pay in the way of tax, the less he
can afford to pay in the way of rent. A tax
of this kind, imposed during the currency of
a lease, may, no doubt, distress or ruin the
farmer. Upon the renewal of the lease, it
must always fall upon the landlord.
In the countries where the personal taille
takes place, the farmer is commonly assessed
in proportion to the stock which he appears
to employ in cultivation. He is, upon this
account, frequently afraid to have a good team
of horses or oxen, but endeavours to cultivate
with the meanest and most wretched instruments
of husbandry that he can. Such is his
distrust in the justice of his assessors, that he
counterfeits poverty, and wishes to appear
scarce able to pay any thing, for fear of being
obliged to pay too much. By this miserable
policy, he does not, perhaps, always consult
his own interest in the most effectual manner;
and he probably loses more by the diminution
of his produce, than he saves by that of his
tax. Though, in consequence of this wretched
cultivation, the market is, no doubt, somewhat
worse supplied; yet, the small rise of
price which this may occasion, as it is not
likely even to indemnify the farmer for the diminution
of his produce, it is still less likely
to enable him to pay more rent to the landlord.
The public, the farmer, the landlord,
all suffer more or less by this degraded cultivation.
That the personal taille tends, in many
different ways, to discourage cultivation, and
consequently to dry up the principal source
of the wealth of every great country, I have
already had occasion to observe in the third
book of this Inquiry.
What are called poll-taxes in the southern
provinces of North America, and the West
India islands, annual taxes of so much a-head
upon every negro, are properly taxes upon the
profits of a certain species of stock employed
in agriculture. As the planters, are the greater
part of them, both farmers and landlords,
the final payment of the tax falls upon them
in their quality of landlords, without any retribution.
Taxes of so much a head upon the bondmen
employed in cultivation, seem anciently
to have been common all over Europe. There
subsists at present a tax of this kind in the
empire of Russia. It is probably upon this
account that poll-taxes of all kinds have often
been represented as badges of slavery. Every
tax, however, is to the person who pays it, a
badge, not of slavery, but of liberty. It denotes
that he is subject to government, indeed;
but that, as he has some property, he cannot
himself be the property of a master. A poll-tax
upon slaves is altogether different from a
poll-tax upon freemen. The latter is paid
by the persons upon whom it is imposed;
the former, by a different set of persons.
The latter is either altogether arbitrary, or
altogether unequal, and, in most cases, is
both the one and the other; the former,
though in some respects unequal, different
slaves being of different values, is in no respect
arbitrary. Every master, who knows
the number of his own slaves, knows exactly
what he has to pay. Those different taxes,
however, being called by the same name, have
been considered as of the same nature.
The taxes which in Holland are imposed
upon men and maid servants, are taxes, not
upon stock, but upon expense; and so far
resemble the taxes upon consumable commodities.
The tax of a guinea a-head for
every man-servant, which has lately been imposed
in Great Britain, is of the same kind.
It falls heaviest upon the middling rank. A
man of two hundred a-year may keep a single
man-servant. A man of ten thousand a-year
will not keep fifty. It does not affect
the poor.
Taxes upon the profits of stock, in particular
employments, can never affect the interest
of money. Nobody will lend his money for
less interest to those who exercise the taxed,
than to those who exercise the untaxed employments.
Taxes upon the revenue arising
from stock in all employments, where the
government attempts to levy them with any
degree of exactness, will, in many cases, fall
upon the interest of money. The vingtieme,
or twentieth penny, in France, is a tax of the
same kind with what is called the land tax in
England, and is assessed, in the same manner,
upon the revenue arising upon land,
houses, and stock. So far as it affects stock,
it is assessed, though not with great rigour,
yet with much more exactness than that part
of the land tax in England which is imposed
upon the same fund. It, in many cases, falls
altogether upon the interest of money. Money
is frequently sunk in France, upon what
are called contracts for the constitution of a
rent; that is, perpetual annuities, redeemable
at any time by the debtor, upon payment of
the sum originally advanced, but of which
this redemption is not exigible by the creditor
except in particular cases. The vingtieme
seems not to have raised the rate of
those annuities, though it is exactly levied
upon them all.
While property remains in the possession
of the same person, whatever permanent taxes
may have been imposed upon it, they have
never been intended to diminish or take away
any part of its capital value, but only some
part of the revenue arising from it. But
when property changes hands, when it is
transmitted either from the dead to the living,
or from the living to the living, such taxes
have frequently been imposed upon it as necessarily
take away some part of its capital
value.
The transference of all sorts of property
from the dead to the living, and that of immoveable
property of land and houses from
the living to the living, are transactions which
are in their nature either public and notorious,
or such as cannot be long concealed.
Such transactions, therefore, may be taxed
directly. The transference of stock or moveable
property, from the living to the living,
by the lending of money, is frequently a
secret transaction, and may always be made
so. It cannot easily, therefore, be taxed directly.
It has been taxed indirectly in two
different ways; first, by requiring that the
deed, containing the obligation to repay,
should be written upon paper or parchment
which had paid a certain stamp duty, otherwise
not to be valid; secondly, by requiring,
under the like penalty of invalidity, that it
should be recorded either in a public or secret
register, and by imposing certain duties
upon such registration. Stamp duties, and
duties of registration, have frequently been
imposed likewise upon the deeds transferring
property of all kinds from the dead to the
living, and upon those transferring immoveable
property from the living to the living;
transactions which might easily have been
taxed directly.
The vicesima hereditatum, or the twentieth
penny of inheritances, imposed by Augustus
upon the ancient Romans, was a tax upon
the transference of property from the dead to
the living. Dion Cassius,[63] the author who
writes concerning it the least indistinctly,
says, that it was imposed upon all successions,
legacies and donations, in case of death, except
upon those to the nearest relations, and
to the poor.
Of the same kind is the Dutch tax upon
successions.[64] Collateral successions are taxed
according to the degree of relation, from
five to thirty per cent. upon the whole value
of the succession. Testamentary donations,
or legacies to collaterals, are subject to the
like duties. Those from husband to wife, or
from wife to husband, to the fiftieth penny.
The luctuosa hereditas, the mournful succession
of ascendants to descendants, to the
twentieth penny only. Direct successions,
or those of descendants to ascendants, pay no
tax. The death of a father, to such of his
children as live in the same house with him,
is seldom attended with any increase, and frequently
with a considerable diminution of
revenue; by the loss of his industry, of his
office, or of some life-rent estate, of which he
may have been in possession. That tax
would be cruel and oppressive, which aggravated
their loss, by taking from them any
part of his succession. It may, however,
sometimes be otherwise with those children,
who, in the language of the Roman law, are
said to be emancipated; in that of the Scotch
law, to be foris-familiated; that is, who have
received their portion, have got families of
their own, and are supported by funds separate
and independent of those of their father.
Whatever part of his succession might come
to such children, would be a real addition to
their fortune, and might, therefore, perhaps,
without more inconveniency than what attends
all duties of this kind, be liable to some
tax.
The casualties of the feudal law were taxes
upon the transference of land, both from the
dead to the living, and from the living to the
living. In ancient times, they constituted,
in every part of Europe, one of the principal
branches of the revenue of the crown.
The heir of every immediate vassal of the
crown paid a certain duty, generally a year's
rent, upon receiving the investiture of the
estate. If the heir was a minor, the whole
rents of the estate, during the continuance of
the minority, devolved to the superior, without
any other charge besides the maintenance of
the minor, and the payment of the widow's
dower, when there happened to be a dowage
upon the land. When the minor came to be
of age, another tax, called relief, was still due
to the superior, which generally amounted
likewise to a year's rent. A long minority,
which, in the present times, so frequently disburdens
a great estate of all its incumbrances,
and restores the family to their ancient splendour,
could in those times have no such effect.
The waste, and not the disincumbrance of
the estate, was the common effect of a long
minority.
By a feudal law, the vassal could not alienate
without the consent of his superior, who
generally extorted a fine or composition on
granting it. This fine, which was at first arbitrary,
came, in many countries, to be regulated
at a certain portion of the price of the
land. In some countries, where the greater
part of the other feudal customs have gone
into disuse, this tax upon the alienation of
land still continues to make a very considerable
branch of the revenue of the sovereign.
In the canton of Berne it is so high as a sixth
part of the price of all noble fiefs, and a tenth
part of that of all ignoble ones.[65] In the canton
of Lucern, the tax upon the sale of land is
not universal, and takes place only in certain
districts. But if any person sells his land in
order to remove out of the territory, he pays
ten per cent. upon the whole price of the
sale.[66] Taxes of the same kind, upon the
sale either of all lands, or of lands held by
certain tenures, take place in many other
countries, and make a more or less considerable
branch of the revenue of the sovereign.
Such transactions may be taxed indirectly,
by means either of stamp duties, or of duties
upon registration; and those duties either
may, or may not, be proportioned to the value
of the subject which is transferred.
In Great Britain, the stamp duties are
higher or lower, not so much according to
the value of the property transferred (an
eighteen-penny or half-crown stamp being
sufficient upon a bond for the largest sum of
money), as according to the nature of the
deed. The highest do not exceed six pounds
upon every sheet of paper, or skin of parchment;
and these high duties fall chiefly upon
grants from the crown, and upon certain law
proceedings, without any regard to the value
of the subject. There are, in Great Britain,
no duties on the registration of deeds or writings,
except the fees of the officers who keep
the register; and these are seldom more than
a reasonable recompense for their labour.
The crown derives no revenue from them.
In Holland[67] there are both stamp duties
and duties upon registration; which in some
cases are, and in some are not, proportioned
to the value of the property transferred. All
testaments must be written upon stamped paper,
of which the price is proportioned to the
property disposed of; so that there are stamps
which cost from three pence or three stivers
a-sheet, to three hundred florins, equal to
about twenty-seven pounds ten shillings of
our money. If the stamp is of an inferior
price to what the testator ought to have made
use of, his succession is confiscated. This is
over and above all their other taxes on succession.
Except bills of exchange, and some
other mercantile bills, all other deeds, bonds,
and contracts, are subject to a stamp duty.
This duty, however, does not rise in proportion
to the value of the subject. All sales of
land and of houses, and all mortgages upon
either, must be registered, and, upon registration,
pay a duty to the state of two and a-half
per cent. upon the amount of the price
or of the mortgage. This duty is extended
to the sale of all ships and vessels of more
than two tons burden, whether decked or undecked.
These, it seems, are considered as a
sort of houses upon the water. The sale of
moveables, when it is ordered by a court of
justice, is subject to the like duty of two and
a-half per cent.
In France, there are both stamp duties and
duties upon registration. The former are
considered as a branch of the aids of excise,
and, in the provinces where those duties take
place, are levied by the excise officers. The
latter are considered as a branch of the domain
of the crown, and are levied by a different
set of officers.
Those modes of taxation by stamp duties
and by duties upon registration, are of very
modern invention. In the course of little
more than a century, however, stamp duties
have, in Europe, become almost universal,
and duties upon registration extremely common.
There is no art which one government
sooner learns of another, than that of draining
money from the pockets of the people.
Taxes upon the transference of property
from the dead to the living, fall finally, as
well as immediately, upon the persons to
whom the property is transferred. Taxes
upon the sale of land fall altogether upon the
seller. The seller is almost always under
the necessity of selling, and must, therefore,
take such a price as he can get. The buyer
is scarce ever under the necessity of buying,
and will, therefore, only give such a price as
he likes. He considers what the land will
cost him, in tax and price together. The
more he is obliged to pay in the way of tax,
the less he will be disposed to give in the way
of price. Such taxes, therefore, fall almost
always upon a necessitous person, and must,
therefore, be frequently very cruel and oppressive.
Taxes upon the sale of new-built
houses, where the building is sold without the
ground, fall generally upon the buyer, because
the builder must generally have his
profit; otherwise he must give up the trade.
If he advances the tax, therefore, the buyer
must generally repay it to him. Taxes upon
the sale of old houses, for the same reason as
those upon the sale of land, fall generally
upon the seller; whom, in most cases, either
conveniency or necessity obliges to sell. The
number of new-built houses that are annually
brought to market, is more or less regulated
by the demand. Unless the demand is
such as to afford the builder his profit, after
paying all expenses, he will build no more
houses. The number of old houses which
happen at any time to come to market, is regulated
by accidents, of which the greater
part have no relation to the demand. Two or
three great bankruptcies in a mercantile town,
will bring many houses to sale, which must
be sold for what can be got for them. Taxes
upon the sale of ground-rents fall altogether
upon the seller, for the same reason as those
upon the sale of lands. Stamp duties, and
duties upon the registration of bonds and
contracts for borrowed money, fall altogether
upon the borrower, and, in fact, are always
paid by him. Duties of the same kind upon
law proceedings fall upon the suitors. They
reduce to both the capital value of the subject
in dispute. The more it costs to acquire any
property, the less must be the neat value of it
when acquired.
All taxes upon the transference of property
of every kind, so far as they diminish the capital
value of that property, tend to diminish
the funds destined for the maintenance of
productive labour. They are all more or
less unthrifty taxes that increase the revenue
of the sovereign, which seldom maintains any
but unproductive labourers, at the expense of
the capital of the people, which maintains
none but productive.
Such taxes, even when they are proportioned
to the value of the property transferred,
are still unequal; the frequency of transference
not being always equal in property of
equal value. When they are not proportioned
to this value, which is the case with
the greater part of the stamp duties and duties
of registration, they are still more so.
They are in no respect arbitrary, but are, or
may be, in all cases, perfectly clear and certain.
Though they sometimes fall upon the
person who is not very able to pay, the time
of payment is, in most cases, sufficiently convenient
for him. When the payment becomes
due, he must, in most cases, have the
money to pay. They are levied at very little
expense, and in general subject the contributors
to no other inconveniency, besides always
the unavoidable one of paying the tax.
In France, the stamp duties are not much
complained of. Those of registration, which
they call the Controle, are. They give occasion,
it is pretended, to much extortion in
the officers of the farmers-general who collect
the tax, which is in a great measure arbitrary
and uncertain. In the greater part of the
libels which have been written against the
present system of finances in France, the
abuses of the controle make a principal article.
Uncertainty, however, does not seem to
be necessarily inherent in the nature of such
taxes. If the popular complaints are well
founded, the abuse must arise, not so much
from the nature of the tax as from the want
of precision and distinctness in the words of
the edicts or laws which impose it.
The registration of mortgages, and in general
of all rights upon immoveable property,
as it gives great security both to creditors and
purchasers, is extremely advantageous to the
public. That of the greater part of deeds of
other kinds, is frequently inconvenient and
even dangerous to individuals, without any
advantage to the public. All registers which,
it is acknowledged, ought to be kept secret,
ought certainly never to exist. The credit
of individuals ought certainly never to depend
upon so very slender a security, as the probity
and religion of the inferior officers of
revenue. But where the fees of registration
have been made a source of revenue to the
sovereign, register-offices have commonly
been multiplied without end, both for the
deeds which ought to be registered, and for
those which ought not. In France there are
several different sorts of secret registers.
This abuse, though not perhaps a necessary,
it must be acknowledged, is a very natural
effect of such taxes.
Such stamp duties as those in England
upon cards and dice, upon newspapers and
periodical pamphlets, &c. are properly taxes
upon consumption; the final payment falls
upon the persons who use or consume such
commodities. Such stamp duties as those
upon licences to retail ale, wine, and spiritous
liquors, though intended, perhaps, to fall upon
the profits of the retailers, are likewise
finally paid by the consumers of those liquors.
Such taxes, though called by the same name,
and levied by the same officers, and in the
same manner with the stamp duties above
mentioned upon the transference of property,
are, however, of a quite different nature, and
fall upon quite different funds.
The wages of the inferior classes of workmen,
I have endeavoured to show in the first
book are everywhere necessarily regulated by
two different circumstances; the demand for
labour, and the ordinary or average price
of provisions. The demand for labour, according
as it happens to be either increasing,
stationary or declining; or to require an increasing,
stationary, or declining population;
regulates the subsistence of the labourer, and
determines in what degree it shall be either
liberal, moderate, or scanty. The ordinary
average price of provisions determines the
quantity of money which must be paid to the
workman, in order to enable him, one year
with another, to purchase this liberal, moderate,
or scanty subsistence. While the demand
for the labour and the price of provisions,
therefore, remain the same, a direct tax upon
the wages of labour can have no other effect,
than to raise them somewhat higher than the
tax. Let us suppose, for example, that, in
particular place, the demand for labour and
the price of provisions were such as to render
ten shillings a-week the ordinary wages of labour;
and that a tax of one-fifth, or four shillings
in the pound, was imposed upon wages.
If the demand for labour and the price of
provisions remained the same, it would still
be necessary that the labourer should, in that
place, earn such a subsistence as could be
bought only for ten shillings a-week; or
that, after paying the tax, he should have ten
shillings a-week free wages. But, in order
to leave him such free wages, after paying
such a tax, the price of labour must, in that
place, soon rise, not to twelve shillings a-week
only, but to twelve and sixpence; that
is, in order to enable him to pay a tax of one-fifth,
his wages must necessarily soon rise,
not one-fifth part only, but one-fourth.
Whatever was the proportion of the tax, the
wages of labour must, in all cases rise, not
only in that proportion, but in a higher proportion.
If the tax for example, was one-tenth,
the wages of labour must necessarily
soon rise, not one-tenth part only, but one-eighth.
A direct tax upon the wages of labour,
therefore, though the labourer might, perhaps,
pay it out of his hand, could not properly be
said to be even advanced by him; at least if
the demand for labour and the average price
of provisions remained the same after the tax
as before it. In all such cases, not only the
tax, but something more than the tax, would
in reality be advanced by the person who immediately
employed him. The final payment
would, in different cases, fall upon different
persons. The rise which such a tax might
occasion in the wages of manufacturing labour
would be advanced by the master manufacturer,
who would both be entitled and
obliged to charge it, with a profit, upon the
price of his goods. The final payment of this
rise of wages, therefore, together with the additional
profit of the master manufacturer,
would fall upon the consumer. The rise which
such a tax might occasion in the wages of
country labour would be advanced by the farmer,
who, in order to maintain the name number
of labourers as before, would he obliged
to employ a greater capital. In order to get
back this greater capital, together with the
ordinary profits of stock, it would be necessary
that he should retain a larger portion, or,
what comes to the same thing, the price of a
larger portion, of the produce of the land,
and, consequently, that he should pay less
rent to the landlord. The final payment of
this rise of wages, therefore, would, in this
case, fall upon the landlord, together with the
additional profit of the farmer who had advanced
it. In all cases, a direct tax upon the
wages of labour must, in the long-run, occasion
both a greater reduction in the rent of
land, and a greater rise in the price of manufactured
goods than would have followed from
the proper assessment of a sum equal to the
produce of the tax, partly upon the rent of
land, and partly upon consumable commodities.
If direct taxes upon the wages of labour
have not always occasioned a proportionable
rise in those wages, it is because they have
generally occasioned a considerable fall in the
demand of labour. The declension of industry,
the decrease of employment for the
poor, the diminution of the annual produce
of the land and labour of the country, have
generally been the effects of such taxes. In
consequence of them, however, the price of
labor must always be higher than it otherwise
would have been in the actual state of
the demand; and this enhancement of price,
together with the profit of those who advance
it, must always be finally paid by the landlords
and consumers.
A tax upon the wages of country labour
does not raise the price of the rude produce
of land in proportion to the tax; for the
same reason that a tax upon the farmer's
profit does not raise that price in that proportion.
Absurd and destructive as such taxes are,
however, they take place in many countries.
In France, that part of the taille which is
charged upon the industry of workmen and
day-labourers in country villages, is properly
a tax of this kind. Their wages are computed
according to the common rate of the
district in which they reside; and, that they
may be as little liable as possible to any overcharge,
their yearly gains are estimated at no
more than two hundred working days in the
year.[68] The tax of each individual is varied
from year to year, according to different circumstances,
of which the collector or the commissary,
whom the intendant appoints to assist
him, are the judges. In Bohemia, in
consequence of the alteration in the system
of finances which was begun in 1748, a very
heavy tax is imposed upon the industry of artificers.
They are divided into four classes.
The highest class pay a hundred florins a-year,
which, at two-and-twenty pence half
penny a-florin, amounts to L.9 : 7 : 6. The
second class are taxed at seventy; the third at
fifty; and the fourth, comprehending artificers
in villages, and the lowest class of those in
towns, at twenty-five florins.[69]
The recompence of ingenious artists, and
of men of liberal professions, I have endeavoured
to show in the first book, necessarily
keeps a certain proportion to the emoluments
of inferior trades. A tax upon this recompence,
therefore, could have no other effect
than to raise it somewhat higher than in proportion
to the tax. If it did not rise in this
manner, the ingenious arts and the liberal
professions, being no longer upon a level
with other trades, would be so much deserted,
that they would soon return to that level.
The emoluments of offices are not, like
those of trades and professions, regulated by
the free competition of the market, and do
not, therefore, always bear a just proportion
to what the nature of the employment requires.
They are, perhaps, in most countries, higher
than it requires; the persons who have the
administration of government being generally
disposed to regard both themselves and their
immediate dependents, rather more than enough.
The emoluments offices, therefore,
can, in most cases, very well bear to be taxed.
The persons, besides, who enjoy public offices,
especially the more lucrative, are, in all
countries, the objects of general envy; and a
tax upon their emoluments, even though it
should be somewhat higher than upon any
other sort of revenue, is always a very popular
tax. In England, for example, when, by
the land-tax, every other sort of revenue was
supposed to be assessed at four shillings in
the pound, it was very popular to lay a real
tax of five shillings and sixpence in the pound
upon the salaries of offices which exceeded a
hundred pounds a-year; the pensions of the
younger branches of the royal family, the pay
of the officers of the army and navy, and a
few others less obnoxious to envy, excepted.
There are in England no other direct taxes
upon the wages of labour.
The taxes which it is intended should fall
indifferently upon every different species of
revenue, are capitation taxes, and taxes upon
consumable commodities. These must be paid
indifferently, from whatever revenue the
contributors may possess; from the rent of their
land, from the profits of their stock, or from
the wages of their labour.
Capitation taxes, if it is attempted to proportion
them to the fortune or revenue of
each contributor, become altogether arbitrary.
The state of a man's fortune varies from day
to day; and, without an inquisition, more intolerable
than any tax, and renewed at least
once every year, can only be guessed at. His
assessment, therefore, must, in most cases,
depend upon the good or bad humour of his
assessors, and must, therefore, be altogether
arbitrary and uncertain.
Capitation taxes, if they are proportioned,
not to the supposed fortune, but to the rank
of each contributor, become altogether unequal;
the degrees of fortune being frequently
unequal in the same degree of rank.
Such taxes, therefore, if it is attempted to
render them equal, become altogether arbitrary
and uncertain; and if it is attempted to
render them certain and not arbitrary, become
altogether unequal. Let the tax be
light or heavy, uncertainty is always a great
grievance. In a light tax, a considerable degree
of inequality may be supported; in a
heavy one, it is altogether intolerable.
In the different poll-taxes which took place
in England during the reign of William III.
the contributors were, the greater part of
them, assessed according to the degree of
their rank; as dukes, marquises, earls, viscounts,
barons, esquires, gentlemen, the eldest
and youngest sons of peers, &c. All
shop-keepers and tradesmen worth more than
three hundred pounds, that is, the better sort
of them, were subject to the same assessment,
how great soever might be the difference in
their fortunes. Their rank was more considered
than their fortune. Several of those
who, in the first poll-tax, were rated according
to their supposed fortune, were afterwards
rated according to their rank. Serjeants, attorneys,
and proctors at law, who, in the first
poll-tax, were assessed at three shillings in
the pound of their supposed income, were
afterwards assessed as gentlemen. In the assessment
of a tax which was not very heavy,
a considerable degree of inequality had been
found less insupportable than any degree of
uncertainty.
In the capitation which has been levied in
France, without any interruption, since the
beginning of the present century, the highest
orders of people are rated according to their
rank, by an invariable tariff; the lower orders
of people, according to what is supposed to
be their fortune, by an assessment which varies
from year to year. The officers of the
king's court, the judges, and other officers in
the superior courts of justice, the officers of
the troops, &c. are assessed in the first manner.
The inferior ranks of people in the provinces
are assessed in the second. In France,
the great easily submit to a considerable degree
of inequality in a tax which, so far as it
affects them, is not a very heavy one; but
could not brook the arbitrary assessment of
an intendant.
The inferior ranks of people must, in that
country, suffer patiently the usage which their
superiors think proper to give them.
In England, the different poll-taxes never
produced the sum which had been expected
from them, or which it was supposed they
might have produced, had they been exactly
levied. In France, the capitation always produces
the sum expected from it. The mild
government of England, when it assessed the
different ranks of people to the poll-tax, contented
itself with what that assessment happened
to produce, and required no compensation
for the loss which the state might sustain,
either by those who could not pay, or
by those who would not pay (for there were
many such), and who, by the indulgent execution
of the law, were not forced to pay.
The more severe government of France assesses
upon each generality a certain sum,
which the intendant must find as he can. If
any province complains of being assessed too
high, it may, in the assessment of next year,
obtain an abatement proportioned to the overcharge
of the year before; but it must pay in
the mean time. The intendant, in order to
be sure of finding the sum assessed upon his
generality, was empowered to assess it in a
larger sum, that the failure or inability of some
of the contributors might be compensated by
the overcharge of the rest; and till 1765, the
fixation of this surplus assessment was left altogether
to his discretion. In that year, indeed,
the council assumed this power to itself. In
the capitation of the provinces, it is observed
by the perfectly well informed author of the
Memoirs upon the Impositions in France, the
proportion which falls upon the nobility, and
upon those whose privileges exempt them from
the taille, is the least considerable. The largest
falls upon those subject to the taille, who are
assessed to the capitation at so much a-pound
of what they pay to that other tax.
Capitation taxes, so far as they are levied
upon the lower ranks of people, are direct
taxes upon the wages of labour, and are attended
with all the inconveniencies of such
taxes.
Capitation taxes are levied at little expense;
and, where they are rigorously exacted,
afford a very sure revenue to the state. It is
upon this account that, in countries where the
ease, comfort, and security of the inferior
ranks of people are little attended to, capitation
taxes are very common. It is in general,
however, but a small part of the public revenue,
which, in a great empire, has ever been
drawn from such taxes; and the greatest sum
which they have ever afforded, might always
have been found in some other way much
more convenient to the people.
The impossibility of taxing the people, in
proportion to their revenue, by any capitation,
seems to have given occasion to the invention
of taxes upon consumable commodities. The
state not knowing how to tax, directly and
proportionably, the revenue of its subjects,
endeavours to tax it indirectly by taxing their
expense, which, it is supposed, will, in most
cases, be nearly in proportion to their revenue.
Their expense is taxed, by taxing the
consumable commodities upon which it is laid
out.
Consumable commodities are either necessaries
or luxuries.
By necessaries I understand, not only the
commodities which are indispensibly necessary
for the support of life, but whatever the
custom of the country renders it indecent for
creditable people, even of the lowest order, to
be without. A linen shirt, for example, is,
strictly speaking, not a necessary of life. The
Greeks and Romans lived, I suppose, very
comfortably, though they had no linen. But
in the present times, through the greater part
of Europe, a creditable day-labourer would
be ashamed to appear in public without a linen
shirt, the want of which would be supposed
to denote that disgraceful degree of
poverty, which, it is presumed, nobody can
well fall into without extreme bad conduct.
Custom, in the same manner, has rendered
leather shoes a necessary of life in England.
The poorest creditable person, of either sex,
would be ashamed to appear in public without
them. In Scotland, custom has rendered
them a necessary of life to the lowest order
of men; but not to the same order of women,
who may, without any discredit, walk about
barefooted. In France, they are necessaries
neither to men nor to women; the lowest
rank of both sexes appearing there publicly,
without any discredit, sometimes in wooden
shoes, and sometimes barefooted. Under necessaries,
therefore, I comprehend, not only
those things which nature, but those things
which the established rules of decency have
rendered necessary to the lowest rank of people.
All other things I call luxuries, without
meaning, by this appellation, to throw the
smallest degree of reproach upon the temperate
use of them. Beer and ale, for example,
in Great Britain, and wine, even in the wine
countries, I call luxuries. A man of any
rank may, without any reproach, abstain totally
from tasting such liquors. Nature does
not render them necessary for the support of
life; and custom nowhere renders it indecent
to live without them.
As the wages of labour are everywhere regulated,
partly by the demand for it, and
partly by the average price of the necessary
articles of subsistence; whatever raises this
average price must necessarily raise those
wages; so that the labourer may still be able
to purchase that quantity of those necessary
articles which the state of the demand for labour,
whether increasing, stationary, or declining,
requires that he should have.[70] A tax
upon those articles necessarily raises their
price somewhat higher than the amount of
the tax, because the dealer, who advances the
tax, must generally get it back, with a profit.
Such a tax must, therefore, occasion a rise in
the wages of labour, proportionable to this
rise of price.
It is thus that a tax upon the necessaries of
life operates exactly in the same manner as
a direct tax upon the wages of labour. The
labourer, though he may pay it out of his hand,
cannot, for any considerable time at least, be
properly said even to advance it. It must always,
in the long-run, be advanced to him by
his immediate employer, in the advanced state
of wages. His employer, if he is a manufacturer,
will charge upon the price of his goods
the rise of wages, together with a profit,
so that the final payment of the tax, together
with this overcharge, will fall upon the consumer.
If his employer is a farmer, the final
payment, together with a like overcharge, will
fall upon the rent of the landlord.
It is otherwise with taxes upon what I call
luxuries, even upon those of the poor. The
rise in the price of the taxed commodities, will
not necessarily occasion any rise in the wages
of labour. A tax upon tobacco, for example,
though a luxury of the poor, as well as of
the rich, will not raise wages. Though it
is taxed in England at three times, and in
France at fifteen times its original price, those
high duties seem to have no effect upon the
wages of labour. The same thing may be
said of the taxes upon tea and sugar, which,
in England and Holland, have become luxuries
of the lowest ranks of people; and of
those upon chocolate, which, in Spain, is said
to have become so.
The different taxes which, in Great Britain,
have, in the course of the present century,
been imposed upon spiritous liquors, are not
supposed to have had any effect upon the
wages of labour. The rise in the price of
porter, occasioned by an additional tax of three
shillings upon the barrel of strong beer, has
not raised the wages of common labour in
London. These were about eighteen pence or
twenty pence a-day before the tax, and they
are not more now.
The high price of such commodities does
not necessarily diminish the ability of the inferior
ranks of people to bring up families.
Upon the sober and industrious poor, taxes
upon such commodities act as sumptuary laws,
and dispose them either to moderate, or to
refrain altogether from the use of superfluities
which they can no longer easily afford. Their
ability to bring up families, in consequence
of this forced frugality, instead of being diminished,
is frequently, perhaps, increased by
the tax. It is the sober and industrious poor
who generally bring up the most numerous
families, and who principally supply the demand
for useful labour. All the poor, indeed,
are not sober and industrious; and the
dissolute and disorderly might continue to indulge
themselves in the use of such commodities,
after this rise of price, in the same manner
as before, without regarding the distress
which this indulgence might bring upon their
families. Such disorderly persons, however,
seldom rear up numerous families, their children
generally perishing from neglect, mismanagement,
and the scantiness or unwholesomeness
of their food. If, by the strength of
their constitution, they survive the hardships
to which the bad conduct of their parents exposes
them, yet the example of that bad conduct
commonly corrupts their morals; so that,
instead of being useful to society by their industry,
they become public nuisances by their
vices and disorders. Though the advanced
price of the luxuries of the poor, therefore,
might increase somewhat the distress of such
disorderly families, and thereby diminish somewhat
their ability to bring up children, it would
not probably diminish much the useful population
of the country.
Any rise in the average price of necessaries,
unless it be compensated by a proportionable
rise in the wages of labour, must necessarily
diminish, more or less, the ability of the poor
to bring up numerous families, and, consequently,
to supply the demand for useful labour;
whatever may be the state of that demand,
whether increasing, stationary, or declining;
or such as requires an increasing,
stationary, or declining population.
Taxes upon luxuries have no tendency to
raise the price of any other commodities, except
that of the commodities taxed. Taxes
upon necessaries, by raising the wages of labour,
necessarily tend to raise the price of all
manufactures, and consequently to diminish
the extent of their sale and consumption.
Taxes upon luxuries are finally paid by the
consumers of the commodities taxed, without
any retribution. They fall indifferently
upon every species of revenue, the wages of
labour, the profits of stock, and the rent of
land. Taxes upon necessaries, so far as they
affect the labouring poor, are finally paid,
partly by landlords, in the diminished rent of
their lands, and partly by rich consumers,
whether landlords or others, in the advanced
price of manufactured goods; and always
with a considerable overcharge. The advanced
price of such manufactures as are real
necessaries of life, and are destined for the
consumption of the poor, of coarse woollens,
for example, must be compensated to the
poor by a farther advancement of their wages.
The middling and superior ranks of people,
if they understood their own interest, ought
always to oppose all taxes upon the necessaries
of life, as well as all taxes upon the
wages of labour. The final payment of both
the one and the other falls altogether upon
themselves, and always with a considerable
overcharge. They fall heaviest upon the
landlords, who always pay in a double
capacity; in that of landlords, by the reduction,
of their rent; and in that of rich consumers,
by the increase of their expense.
The observation of Sir Matthew Decker, that
certain taxes are, in the price of certain goods,
sometimes repeated and accumulated four or
five times, is perfectly just with regard to
taxes upon the necessaries of life. In the
price of leather, for example, you must pay not
only for the tax upon the leather of your own
shoes, but for a part of that upon those of the
shoemaker and the tanner. You must pay,
too, for the tax upon the salt, upon the soap,
and upon the candles which those workmen
consume while employed in your service; and
for the tax upon the leather, which the salt-maker,
the soap-maker, and the candle-maker
consume, while employed in their service.
In Great Britain, the principal taxes upon
the necessaries of life, are those upon the
four commodities just now mentioned, salt,
leather, soap, and candles.
Salt is a very ancient and a very universal
subject of taxation. It was taxed among the
Romans, and it is so at present in, I believe,
every part of Europe. The quantity annually
consumed by any individual is so small,
and may be purchased so gradually, that nobody,
it seems to have been thought, could
feel very sensibly even a pretty heavy tax upon
it. It is in England taxed at three shillings
and fourpence a bushel; about three times
the original price of the commodity. In some
other countries, the tax is still higher. Leather
is a real necessary of life. The use of
linen renders soap such. In countries where
the winter nights are long, candles are a necessary
instrument of trade. Leather and
soap are in Great Britain taxed at three halfpence
a-pound; candles at a penny; taxes
which, upon the original price of leather, may
amount to about eight or ten per cent.; upon
that of soap, to about twenty or five-and-twenty
per cent.; and upon that of candles
to about fourteen or fifteen per cent.; taxes
which, though lighter than that upon salt,
are still very heavy. As all those four commodities
are real necessaries of life, such
heavy taxes upon them must increase some
what the expense of the sober and industrious
poor, and must consequently raise more or
less the wages of their labour.
In a country where the winters are so cold
as in Great Britain, fuel is, during that season,
in the strictest sense of the word, a necessary
of life, not only for the purpose of dressing
victuals, but for the comfortable subsistence
of many different sorts of workmen who
work within doors; and coals are the cheapest
of all fuel. The price of fuel has so important
an influence upon that of labour, that all
over Great Britain, manufactures have confined
themselves principally to the coal countries;
other parts of the country, on account
of the high price of this necessary article, not
being able to work so cheap. In some manufactures,
besides, coal is a necessary instrument
of trade; as in those of glass, iron, and
all other metals. If a bounty could in any case
be reasonable, it might perhaps be so upon
the transportation of coals from those parts of
the country in which they abound, to those in
which they are wanted. But the legislature,
instead of a bounty, has imposed a tax of three
shillings and threepence a-ton upon coals
carried coastways; which, upon most sorts
of coal, is more than sixty per cent. of the
original price at the coal pit. Coals carried,
either by land or by inland navigation, pay
no duty. Where they are naturally cheap,
they are consumed duty free; where they are
naturally dear, they are loaded with a heavy
duty.
Such taxes, though they raise the price of
subsistence, and consequently the wages of
labour, yet they afford a considerable revenue
to government, which it might not be easy to
find in any other way. There may, therefore,
be good reasons for continuing them. The
bounty upon the exportation of corn, so far
as it tends, in the actual state of tillage, to
raise the price of that necessary article, produces
all the like bad effects; and instead of
affording any revenue, frequently occasions a
very great expense to government. The high
duties upon the importation of foreign corn,
which, in years of moderate plenty, amount
to a prohibition; and the absolute prohibition
of the importation, either of live cattle, or of
salt provisions, which takes place in the ordinary
state of the law, and which, on account
of the scarcity, is at present suspended for a
limited time with regard to Ireland and the
British plantations, have all had the bad effects
of taxes upon the necessaries of life, and produce
no revenue to government. Nothing
seems necessary for the repeal of such regulations,
but to convince the public of the futility
of that system in consequence of which they
have been established.
Taxes upon the necessaries of life are much
higher in many other countries than in Great
Britain. Duties upon flour and meal when
ground at the mill, and upon bread when
baked at the oven, take place in many countries.
In Holland the money-price of the
bread consumed in towns is supposed to be
doubled by means of such taxes. In lieu of a
part of them, the people who live in the country,
pay every year so much a-head, according to
the sort of bread they are supposed to consume.
Those who consume wheaten bread pay three
guilders fifteen stivers; about six shillings
and ninepence halfpenny. These, and some
other taxes of the same kind, by raising the
price of labour, are said to have ruined the
greater part of the manufactures of Holland[71].
Similar taxes, though not quite so heavy, take
place in the Milanese, in the states of Genoa,
in the duchy of Modena, in the duchies of
Parma, Placentia, and Guastalla, and the Ecclesiastical
state. A French author[72] of some
note, has proposed to reform the finances of
his country, by substituting in the room of the
greater part of other taxes, this most ruinous
of all taxes. There is nothing so absurd, says
Cicero, which has not sometimes been asserted
by some philosophers.
Taxes upon butcher's meat are still more
common than those upon bread. It may indeed
be doubted, whether butcher's meat is
any where a necessary of life. Grain and
other vegetables, with the help of milk, cheese,
and butter, or oil, where butter is not to be
had, it is known from experience, can, without
any butcher's meat, afford the most plentiful,
the most wholesome, the most nourishing,
and the most invigorating diet. Decency
nowhere requires that any man should eat
butcher's meat, as it in most places requires
that he should wear a linen shirt or a pair of
leather shoes.
Consumable commodities, whether necessaries
or luxuries, may be taxed in two different
ways. The consumer may either pay
an annual sum on account of his using or
consuming goods of a certain kind; or the
goods may be taxed while they remain in the
hands of the dealer, and before they are delivered
to the consumer. The consumable
goods which last a considerable time before
they are consumed altogether, are most properly
taxed in the one way; those of which
the consumption is either immediate or more
speedy, in the other. The coach-tax and plate-tax
are examples of the former method of imposing;
the greater part of the other duties of
excise and customs, of the latter.
A coach may, with good management, last
ten or twelve years. It might be taxed,
once for all, before it comes out of the hands
of the coach-maker. But it is certainly more
convenient for the buyer to pay four pounds
a-year for the privilege of keeping a coach,
than to pay all at once forty or forty-eight
pounds additional price to the coach-maker;
or a sum equivalent to what the tax is likely
to cost him during the time he uses the same
coach. A service of plate in the same manner,
may last more than a century. It is
certainly easier for the consumer to pay five
shillings a-year for every hundred ounces of
plate, near one per cent. of the value, than to
redeem this long annuity at five-and-twenty
of thirty years purchase, which would enhance
the price at least five-and-twenty or thirty per
cent. The different taxes which affect houses,
are certainly more conveniently paid by moderate
annual payments, than by a heavy tax
of equal value upon the first building or sale
of the house.
It was the well-known proposal of Sir
Matthew Decker, that all commodities, even
those of which the consumption is either immediate
or speedy, should be taxed in this
manner; the dealer advancing nothing, but
the consumer paying a certain annual sum
for the licence to consume certain goods. The
object of his scheme was to promote all the
different branches of foreign trade, particularly
the carrying trade, by taking away all duties
upon importation and exportation, and thereby
enabling the merchant to employ his whole
capital and credit in the purchase of goods
and the freight of ships, no part of either being
diverted towards the advancing of taxes.
The project, however, of taxing, in this manner,
goods of immediate or speedy consumption,
seems liable to the four following very
important objections. First, the tax would
be more unequal, or not so well proportioned
to the expense and consumption of the different
contributors, as in the way in which it
is commonly imposed. The taxes upon ale,
wine, and spiritous liquors, which are advanced
by the dealers, are finally paid by the
different consumers, exactly in proportion to
their respective consumption. But if the tax
were to be paid by purchasing a licence to
drink those liquors, the sober would, in proportion
to his consumption, be taxed much
more heavily than the drunken consumer. A
family which exercised great hospitality, would
be taxed much more lightly than one who entertained
fewer guests. Secondly, this mode
of taxation, by paying for an annual, half-yearly,
or quarterly licence to consume certain
goods, would diminish very much one of the
principal conveniences of taxes upon goods
of speedy consumption; the piece-meal payment.
In the price of threepence halfpenny,
which is at present paid for a pot of porter, the
different taxes upon malt, hops, and beer, together
with the extraordinary profit which the
brewer charges for having advanced them, may
perhaps amount to about three halfpence. If
a workman can conveniently spare those three
halfpence, he buys a pot of porter. If he
cannot, he contents himself with a pint; and,
as a penny saved is a penny got, he thus gains
a farthing by his temperance. He pays the
tax piece-meal, as he can afford to pay it,
and when he can afford to pay it, and
every act of payment is perfectly voluntary,
and what he can avoid if he chuses to do so.
Thirdly, such taxes would operate less as
sumptuary laws. When the licence was once
purchased, whether the purchaser drunk much
or drunk little, his tax would he the same.
Fourthly, if a workman were to pay all at
once, by yearly, half-yearly, or quarterly payments,
a tax equal to what he at present pays,
with little or no inconveniency, upon all the
different pots and pints of porter which he
drinks in any such period of time, the sum
might frequently distress him very much.
This mode of taxation, therefore, it seems
evident, could never, without the most grievous
oppression, produce a revenue nearly
equal to what is derived from the present mode
without any oppression. In several countries,
however, commodities of an immediate or very
speedy consumption are taxed in this manner.
In Holland, people pay so much a-head for
a licence to drink tea. I have already mentioned
a tax upon bread, which, so far as it
is consumed in farm houses and country villages,
is there levied in the same manner.
The duties of excise are imposed chiefly
upon goods of home produce, destined for
home consumption. They are imposed only
upon a few sorts of goods of the most general
use. There can never be any doubt,
either concerning the goods which are subject
to those duties, or concerning the particular
duty which each species of goods is
subject to. They fall almost altogether upon
what I call luxuries, excepting always the four
duties above mentioned, upon salt, soap, leather,
candles, and perhaps that upon green glass.
The duties of customs are much more ancient
than those of excise. They seem to
have been called customs, as denoting customary
payments, which had been in use for
time immemorial. They appear to have been
originally considered as taxes upon the profits
of merchants. During the barbarous
times of feudal anarchy, merchants, like all
the other inhabitants of burghs, were considered
as little better than emancipated bondmen,
whose persons were despised, and whose
gains were envied. The great nobility, who
had consented that the king should tallage
the profits of their own tenants, were not
unwilling that he should tallage likewise those
of an order of men whom it was much less
their interest to protect. In those ignorant
times, it was not understood, that the profits
of merchants are a subject not taxable directly;
or that the final payment of all such taxes
must fall, with a considerable overcharge, upon
the consumers.
The gains of alien merchants were looked
upon more unfavourably than those of English
merchants. It was natural, therefore,
that those of the former should be taxed more
heavily than those of the latter. This distinction
between the duties upon aliens and
those upon English merchants, which was
begun from ignorance, has been continued
from the spirit of monopoly, or in order to
give our own merchants an advantage, both
in the home and in the foreign market.
With this distinction, the ancient duties of
customs were imposed equally upon all sorts
of goods, necessaries as well as luxuries,
goods exported as well as goods imported.
Why should the dealers in one sort of goods,
it seems to have been thought, be more favoured
than those in another? or why should
the merchant exporter be more favoured than
the merchant importer?
The ancient customs were divided into
three branches. The first, and, perhaps, the
most ancient of all those duties, was that upon
wool and leather. It seems to have been
chiefly or altogether an exportation duty.
When the woollen manufacture came to be
established in England, lest the king should
lose any part of his customs upon wool by
the exportation of woollen cloths, a like duty
was imposed upon them. The other two
branches were, first, a duty upon wine, which
being imposed at so much a-ton, was called a
tonnage; and, secondly, a duty upon all
other goods, which being imposed at so much
a-pound of their supposed value, was called
a poundage. In the forty-seventh year of
Edward III., a duty of sixpence in the pound
was imposed upon all goods exported and
imported, except wools, wool-felts, leather,
and wines which were subject to particular
duties. In the fourteenth of Richard II.,
this duty was raised to one shilling in the
pound; but, three years afterwards, it was
again reduced to sixpence. It was raised to
eightpence in the second year of Henry
IV.; and, in the fourth of the same prince,
to one shilling. From this time to the ninth
year of William III., this duty continued at
one shilling in the pound. The duties of
tonnage and poundage were generally granted
to the king by one and the same act of
parliament, and were called the subsidy of
tonnage and poundage. The subsidy of
poundage having continued for so long a
time at one shilling in the pound, or at five
per cent., a subsidy came, in the language of
the customs, to denote a general duty of this
kind of five per cent. This subsidy, which is
now called the old subsidy, still continues to
be levied, according to the book of rates established
by the twelfth of Charles II. The
method of ascertaining, by a book of rates,
the value of goods subject to this duty, is
said to be older than the time of James I.
The new subsidy, imposed by the ninth and
tenth of William III., was an additional five
per cent. upon the greater part of goods.
The one-third and the two-third subsidy
made up between them another five per cent.
of which they were proportionable parts.
The subsidy of 1747 made a fourth five per
cent. upon the greater part of goods; and
that of 1759, a fifth upon some particular
sorts of goods. Besides those five subsidies,
a great variety of other duties have occasionally
been imposed upon particular sorts of
goods in order sometimes to relieve the exigencies
of the state, and sometimes to regulate
the trade of the country, according to
the principles of the mercantile system.
That system has come gradually more and
more into fashion. The old subsidy was imposed
indifferently upon exportation, as well
as importation. The four subsequent subsidies,
as well as the other duties which have
since been occasionally imposed upon particular
sorts of goods, have, with a few exceptions,
been laid altogether upon importation.
The greater part of the ancient duties which
had been imposed upon the exportation of
the goods of home produce and manufacture,
have either been lightened or taken away altogether.
In most cases, they have been
taken away. Bounties have even been given
upon the exportation of some of them. Drawbacks,
too, sometimes of the whole, and, in
most cases, or a part of the duties which are
paid upon the importation of foreign goods,
have been granted upon their exportation.
Only half the duties imposed by the old subsidy
upon importation, are drawn back upon
exportation; but the whole of those imposed
by the latter subsidies and other imports are,
upon the greater parts of the goods, drawn
back in the same manner. This growing favour
of exportation, and discouragement of
importation, have suffered only a few exceptions,
which chiefly concern the materials of
some manufactures. These our merchants
and manufacturers are willing should come
as cheap as possible to themselves, and as
dear as possible to their rivals and competitors
in other countries. Foreign materials
are, upon this account, sometimes allowed to
be imported duty-free; Spanish wool, for
example, flax, and raw linen yarn. The exportation
of the materials of home produce,
and of those which are the particular produce
of our colonies, has sometimes been prohibited,
and sometimes subjected to higher duties.
The exportation of English wool has been
prohibited. That of beaver skins, of beaver
wool, and of gum-senega, has been subjected
to higher duties; Great Britain, by the conquests
of Canada and Senegal, having got
almost the monopoly of those commodities.
That the mercantile system has not been
very favourable to the revenue of the great
body of the people, to the annual produce of
the land and labour of the country, I have
endeavoured to show in the fourth book of
this Inquiry. It seems not to have been more
favourable to the revenue of the sovereign;
so far, at least, as that revenue depends upon
the duties of customs.
In consequence of that system, the importation
of several sorts of goods has been prohibited
altogether. This prohibition has, in
some cases, entirely prevented, and in others
has very much diminished, the importation of
those commodities, by reducing the importers
to the necessity of smuggling. It has entirely
prevented the importation of foreign wollens;
and it has very much diminished that
of foreign silks and velvets. In both cases,
it has entirely annihilated the revenue of customs
which might have been levied upon such
importation.
The high duties which have been imposed
upon the importation of many different sorts
of foreign goods in order to discourage their
consumption in Great Britain, have, in many
cases, served only to encourage smuggling,
and, in all cases, have reduced the revenues
of the customs below what more moderate
duties would have afforded. The saying of
Dr. Swift, that in the arithmetic of the customs,
two and two, instead of making four,
make sometimes only one, holds perfectly true
with regard to such heavy duties, which never
could have been imposed, had not the mercantile
system taught us, in many cases, to
employ taxation as an instrument, not of revenue,
but of monopoly.
The bounties which are sometimes given
upon the exportation of home produce and
manufactures, and the drawbacks which are
paid upon the re-exportation of the greater
part of foreign goods, have given occasion to
many frauds, and to a species of smuggling,
more destructive of the public revenue than
any other. In order to obtain the bounty or
drawback, the goods, it is well known, are
sometimes shipped, and sent to sea, but soon
afterwards clandestinely re-landed in some
other part of the country. The defalcation of
the revenue of customs occasioned by bounties
and drawbacks, of which a great part are
obtained fraudulently, is very great. The
gross produce of the customs, in the year
which ended on the 5th of January 1755, amounted
to L.5,068,000. The bounties
which were paid out of this revenue, though
in that year there was no bounty upon corn,
amounted to L.167,800. The drawbacks
which were paid upon debentures and certificates,
to L.2,156,800. Bounties and drawbacks
together amounted to L.2,324,600. In
consequence of these deductions, the revenue
of the customs amounted only to L.2,743,400;
from which deducting L.287,900 for the expense
of management, in salaries and other
incidents, the neat revenue of the customs for
that year comes out to be L.2,455,500. The
expense of management, amounts, in this
manner, to between five and six per cent.
upon the gross revenue of the customs; and
to something more than ten per cent. upon
what remains of that revenue, after deducting
what is paid away in bounties and drawbacks.
Heavy duties being imposed upon almost
all goods imported, our merchant importers
smuggle as much, and make entry of as little
as they can. Our merchant exporters, on
the contrary, make entry of more than they
export; sometimes out of vanity, and to pass
for great dealers in goods which pay no duty
and sometimes to gain a bounty or a drawback.
Our exports, in consequence of these
different frauds, appear upon the custom-house
books greatly to overbalance our imports,
to the unspeakable comfort of those
politicians, who measure the national prosperity
by what they call the balance of trade.
All goods imported, unless particularly
exempted, and such exemptions are not very
numerous, are liable to some duties of customs.
If any goods are imported, not mentioned
in the book of rates, they are taxed at
4s. 99⁄20d. for every twenty shillings value,
according to the oath of the importer, that is,
nearly at five subsidies, or five poundage
duties. The book of rates is extremely comprehensive,
and enumerates a great variety of
articles, many of them little used, and, therefore,
not well known. It is, upon this account,
frequently uncertain under what article
a particular sort of goods ought to be
classed, and, consequently what duty they
ought to pay. Mistakes with regard to this
sometimes ruin the custom-house officer, and
frequently occasion much trouble, expense,
and vexation to the importer. In point of
perspicuity, precision, and distinctness, therefore,
the duties of customs are much more inferior
to those of excise.
In order that the greater part of the members
of any society should contribute to the
public revenue, in proportion to their respective
expense, it does not seem necessary that
every single article of that expense should be
taxed. The revenue which is levied by the
duties of excise is supposed to fall as equally
upon the contributors as that which is levied
by the duties of customs; and the duties of
excise are imposed upon a few articles only
of the most general use and consumption.
It has been the opinion of many people, that,
by proper management, the duties of customs
might likewise, without any loss to the public
revenue, and with great advantage to foreign
trade, be confined to a few articles only.
The foreign articles, of the most general
use and consumption in Great Britain, seem
at present to consist chiefly in foreign wines
and brandies; in some of the productions of
America and the West Indies, sugar, rum,
tobacco, cocoa-nuts, &c. and in some of those
of the East Indies, tea, coffee, china-ware,
spiceries of all kinds, several sorts of piece-goods,
&c. These different articles afford,
perhaps, at present, the greater part of the
revenue which is drawn from the duties of
customs. The taxes which at present subsist
upon foreign manufactures, if you except
those upon the few contained in the foregoing
enumeration, have, the greater part of them,
been imposed for the purpose, not of revenue,
but of monopoly, or to give our own merchants
an advantage in the home market.
By removing all prohibitions, and by subjecting
all foreign manufactures to such moderate
taxes, as it was found from experience,
afforded upon each article the greatest revenue
to the public, our own workmen might still
have a considerable advantage in the home
market; and many articles, some of which at
present afford no revenue to government, and
others a very inconsiderable one, might afford
a very great one.
High taxes, sometimes by diminishing the
consumption of the taxed commodities, and
sometimes by encouraging smuggling, frequently
afford a smaller revenue to government
than what might be drawn from more
moderate taxes.
When the diminution of revenue is the effect
of the diminution of consumption, there
can be but one remedy, and that is the lowering
of the tax.
When the diminution of revenue is the effect
of the encouragement given to smuggling,
it may, perhaps, be remedied in two
ways; either by diminishing the temptation
to smuggle, or by increasing the difficulty of
smuggling. The temptation to smuggle can be
be diminished only by the lowering of the
tax; and the difficulty of smuggling can be
increased only by establishing that system of
administration which is most proper for preventing
it.
The excise laws, it appears, I believe, from
experience, obstruct and embarrass the operations
of the smuggler much more effectually
than those of the customs. By introducing
into the customs a system of administration
as similar to that of the excise as the nature
of the different duties will admit, the difficulty
of smuggling might be very much increased.
This alteration, it has been supposed
by many people, might very easily be brought
about.
The importer of commodities liable to any
duties of customs, it has been said, might, at
his option, he allowed either to carry them to
his own private warehouse; or to lodge them
in a warehouse, provided either at his own expense
or at that of the public, but under the
key of the custom-house officer, and never to
be opened but in his presence. If the merchant
carried them to his own private warehouse,
the duties to be immediately paid, and
never afterwards to be drawn back; and that
warehouse to be at all times subject to the
visit and examination of the custom-house officer,
in order to ascertain how far the quantity
contained in it corresponded with that for
which the duty had been paid. If he carried
them to the public warehouse, no duty to be
paid till they were taken out for home
consumption. If taken out for exportation, to
be duty-free; proper security being always
given that they should be so exported. The
dealers in those particular commodities, either
by wholesale or retail, to be at all times subject
to the visit and examination of the custom-house
officer; and to be obliged to justify,
by proper certificates, the payment of the
duty upon the whole quantity contained in
their shops or warehouses. What are called
the excise duties upon rum imported, are at
present levied in this manner; and the same
system of administration might, perhaps, be
extended to all duties upon goods imported;
provided always that those duties were, like
the duties of excise, confined to a few sorts of
goods of the most general use and consumption.
If they were extended to almost all
sorts of goods, as at present, public warehouses
of sufficient extent could not easily be
provided; and goods of a very delicate nature,
or of which the preservation required
much care and attention, could not safely be
trusted by the merchant in any warehouse but
his own.
If, by such a system of administration,
smuggling to any considerable extent could
be prevented, even under pretty high duties;
if every duty was occasionally either
heightened or lowered according as it was
likely, either the one way or the other,
to afford the greatest revenue to the state;
taxation being always employed as an instrument
of revenue, and never of monopoly; it
seems not improbable that a revenue, at least
equal to the present neat revenue of the customs,
might be drawn from duties upon the
importation of only a few sorts of goods of
the most general use and consumption; and
that the duties of customs might thus be
brought to the same degree of simplicity, certainty,
and precision, as those of excise.
What the revenue at present loses by drawbacks
upon the re-exportation of foreign
goods, which are afterwards re-landed and
consumed at home, would, under this system,
be saved altogether. If to this saving, which
would alone be very considerable, were added
the abolition of all bounties upon the exportation
of home produce; in all cases in which
those bounties were not in reality drawbacks
of some duties of excise which had before been
advanced; it cannot well be doubted, but that
the neat revenue of customs might, after an
alteration of this kind, be fully equal to what
it had ever been before.
If, by such a change of system, the public
revenue suffered no loss, the trade and manufactures
of the country would certainly gain
a very considerable advantage. The trade in
the commodities not taxed, by far the greatest
number would be perfectly free, and might
be carried on to and from all parts of the
world with every possible advantage. Among
those commodities would be comprehended
all the necessaries of life, and all the materials
of manufacture. So far as the free importation
of the necessaries of life reduced their
average money price in the home market, it
would reduce the money price of labour, but
without reducing in any respect its real recompense.
The value of money is in proportion
to the quantity of the necessaries of life which
it will purchase. That of the necessaries of
life is altogether independent of the quantity
of money which can be had for them. The
reduction in the money price of labour would
necessarily be attended with a proportionable
one in that of all home manufactures, which
would thereby gain some advantage in all
foreign markets. The price of some manufactures
would be reduced, in a still greater
proportion, by the free importation of the raw
materials. If raw silk could be imported
from China and Indostan, duty-free, the silk
manufacturers in England could greatly undersell
those of both France and Italy. There
would be no occasion to prohibit the importation
of foreign silks and velvets. The cheapness
of their goods would secure to our own
workmen, not only the possession of a home,
but a very great command of the foreign
market. Even the trade in the commodities
taxed, would be carried on with much more
advantage than at present. If those commodities
were delivered out of the public warehouse
for foreign exportation, being in this
case exempted from all taxes, the trade in them
would be perfectly free. The carrying trade,
in all sorts of goods, would, under this system,
enjoy every possible advantage. If these
commodities were delivered out for home consumption,
the importer not being obliged to
advance the tax till he had an opportunity of
selling his goods, either to some dealer, or to
some consumer, he could always afford to sell
them cheaper than if he had been obliged to
advance it at the moment of importation.
Under the same taxes, the foreign trade of
consumption, even in the taxed commodities,
might in this manner be carried on with much
more advantage than it is at present.
It was the object of the famous excise
scheme of Sir Robert Walpole, to establish,
with regard to wine and tobacco, a system
not very unlike that which is here proposed.
But though the bill which was then brought
into Parliament, comprehended those two
commodities only, it was generally supposed
to be meant as an introduction to a more extensive
scheme of the same kind. Faction,
combined with the interest of smuggling merchants,
raised so violent, though so unjust a
clamour, against that bill, that the minister
thought proper to drop it; and, from a dread
of exciting a clamour of the same kind, none
of his successors have dared to resume the
project.
The duties upon foreign luxuries, imported
for home consumption, though they sometimes
fall upon the poor, fall principally upon
people of middling or more than middling
fortune. Such are, for example, the duties
upon foreign wines, upon coffee, chocolate,
tea, sugar, &c.
The duties upon the cheaper luxuries of
home produce, destined for home consumption,
fall pretty equally upon people of all
ranks, in proportion to their respective expense.
The poor pay the duties upon malt,
hops, beer, and ale, upon their own consumption;
the rich, upon both their own consumption
and that of their servants.
The whole consumption of the inferior
ranks of people, or of those below the middling
rank, it must be observed, is, in every
country, much greater, not only in quantity,
but in value, than that of the middling, and
of those above the middling rank. The whole
expense of the inferior is much greater than
that of the superior ranks. In the first place,
almost the whole capital of every country is
annually distributed among the inferior ranks
of people, as the wages of productive labour.
Secondly, a great part of the revenue, arising
from both the rent of land and the profits of
stock, is annually distributed among the same
rank, in the wages and maintenance of menial
servants, and other unproductive labourers.
Thirdly, some part of the profits of stock belongs
to the same rank, as a revenue arising
from the employment of their small capitals.
The amount of the profits annually made by
small shopkeepers, tradesmen, and retailers
of all kinds, is everywhere very considerable,
and makes a very considerable portion of the
annual produce. Fourthly and lastly, some
part even of the rent of land belongs to the
same rank; a considerable part to those who
are somewhat below the middling rank, and a
small part even to the lowest rank; common
labourers sometimes possessing in property an
acre or two of land. Though the expense of
those inferior ranks of people, therefore, taking
them individually, is very small, yet the
whole mass of it, taking them collectively,
amounts always to by much the largest portion
of the whole expense of the society; what
remains of the annual produce of the land and
labour of the country, for the consumption of
the superior ranks, being always much less,
not only in quantity, but in value. The taxes
upon expense, therefore, which fall chiefly upon
that of the superior ranks of people, upon
the smaller portion of the annual produce, are
likely to be much less productive than either
those which fall indifferently upon the expense
of all ranks, or even those which fall
chiefly upon that of the inferior ranks, than
either those which fall indifferently upon the
whole annual produce, or those which fall
chiefly upon the larger portion of it. The
excise upon the materials and manufacture of
home-made fermented and spiritous liquors,
is, accordingly, of all the different taxes upon
expense, by far the most productive; and this
branch of the excise falls very much, perhaps
principally, upon the expense of the common
people. In the year which ended on the 5th
of July 1775, the gross produce of this branch
of the excise amounted to L.3,341,837 : 9 : 9.
It must always be remembered, however,
that it is the luxuries, and not the necessary
expense of the inferior ranks of people, that
ought ever to be taxed. The final payment
of any tax upon their necessary expense, would
fall altogether upon the superior ranks of people;
upon the smaller portion of the annual
produce, and not upon the greater. Such a
tax must, in all cases, either raise the wages
of labour, or lessen the demand for it. It
could not raise the wages of labour, without
throwing the final payment of the tax upon
the superior ranks of people. It could not
lessen the demand for labour, without lessening
the annual produce of the land and labour
of the country, the fund upon which all
taxes must be finally paid. Whatever might
be the state to which a tax of this kind reduced
the demand for labour, it must always
raise wages higher than they otherwise would
be in that state; and the final payment of this
enhancement of wages must, in all cases, fall
upon the superior ranks of people.
Fermented liquors brewed, and spiritous
liquors distilled, not for sale, but for private
use, are not in Great Britain liable to any duties
of excise. This exemption, of which the
object is to save private families from the
odious visit and examination of the tax-gatherer,
occasions the burden of those duties to
fall frequently much lighter upon the rich
than upon the poor. It is not, indeed, very
common to distil for private use, though it is
done sometimes. But in the country, many
middling, and almost all rich and great families,
brew their own beer. Their strong
beer, therefore, costs them eight shillings a-barrel
less than it costs the common brewer,
who must have his profit upon the tax, as well
as upon all the other expense which he advances.
Such families, therefore, must drink
their beer at least nine or ten shillings a-barrel
cheaper than any liquor of the same quality
can be drank by the common people, to
whom it is everywhere more convenient to buy
their beer, by little and little, from the brewery
or the alehouse. Malt, in the same manner,
that is made for the use of a private family,
is not liable to the visit or examination
of the tax-gatherer; but, in this case the family
must compound at seven shillings and
sixpence a-head for the tax. Seven shillings
and sixpence are equal to the excise upon ten
bushels of malt; a quantity fully equal to
what all the different members of any sober
family, men, women, and children, are, at an
average, likely to consume. But in rich and
great families, where country hospitality is
much practised, the malt liquors consumed by
the members of the family make but a small
part of the consumption of the house. Either
on account of this composition, however, or
for other reasons, it is not near so common to
malt as to brew for private use. It is difficult
to imagine any equitable reason, why those
who either brew or distil for private use should
not be subject to a composition of the same
kind.
A greater revenue than what is at present
drawn from all the heavy taxes upon malt,
beer, and ale, might be raised, it has frequently
been said, by a much lighter tax upon
malt; the opportunities of defrauding the
revenue being much greater in a brewery than
in a malt-house; and those who brew for private
use being exempted from all duties or
composition for duties, which is not the case
with those who malt for private use.
In the porter brewery of London, a quarter
of malt is commonly brewed into more than
two barrels and a-half, sometimes into three
barrels of porter. The different taxes upon
malt amount to six shillings a-quarter; those
upon strong ale and beer to eight shillings a-barrel.
In the porter brewery, therefore, the
different taxes upon malt, beer, and ale, amount
to between twenty-six and thirty shillings
upon the produce of a quarter of malt.
In the country brewery for common country
sale, a quarter of malt is seldom brewed into
less than two barrels of strong, and one barrel
of small beer; frequently into two barrels
and a-half of strong beer. The different taxes
upon small beer amount to one shilling and
fourpence a-barrel. In the country brewery,
therefore, the different taxes upon malt, beer,
and ale, seldom amount to less than twenty-three
shillings and fourpence, frequently to
twenty-six shillings, upon the produce of a
quarter of malt. Taking the whole kingdom
at an average, therefore, the whole amount of
the duties upon malt, beer, and ale, cannot be
estimated at less than twenty-four or twenty-five
shillings upon the produce of a quarter
of malt. But by taking off all the different
duties upon beer and ale, and by trebling the
malt tax, or by raising it from six to eighteen
shillings upon the quarter of malt, a greater
revenue, it is said, might be raised by this
single tax, than what is at present drawn from
all those heavier taxes.
| L. | s. | d. |
| In 1772, the old malt tax produced | 722,023 | 11 | 11 |
| The additional | 356,776 | 7 | 9¾ |
| In 1773, the old tax produced | 561,627 | 3 | 7½ |
| The additional | 278,650 | 15 | 3¾ |
| In 1774, the old tax produced | 624,614 | 17 | 5¾ |
| The additional | 310,745 | 2 | 8½ |
| In 1775, the old tax produced | 657,357 | 0 | 8¼ |
| The additional | 323,785 | 12 | 6¼ |
| —————————— |
| 4)3,835,580 | 12 | 0¾ |
| —————————— |
| Average of these four years | 958,895 | 3 | 03⁄16 |
| —————————— |
| In 1772, the country excise produced | 1,243,120 | 5 | 3 |
| The London brewery | 408,260 | 7 | 2¾ |
| In 1773, the country excise | 1,245,808 | 3 | 3 |
| The London brewery | 405,406 | 17 | 10½ |
| In 1774, the country excise | 1,246,373 | 14 | 5½ |
| The London brewery | 320,601 | 18 | 0¼ |
| In 1775, the country excise | 1,214,583 | 6 | 1¼ |
| The London brewery | 463,670 | 7 | 0¼ |
| —————————— |
| 4)6,547,832 | 19 | 2¼ |
| —————————— |
| Average of these four years | 1,636,958 | 4 | 9½ |
| To which adding the average malt-tax, or | 958,895 | 3 | 03⁄16 |
| —————————— |
| The whole amount of those different taxes comes out to be | 2,595,853 | 7 | 911⁄16 |
| —————————— |
| But, by trebling the malt tax, or by raising it from six to eighteen shillings upon the quarter of malt, that single tax would produce | 2,876,685 | 9 | 09⁄16 |
| A sum which exceeds the foregoing by | 280,832 | 1 | 214⁄16 |
Under the old malt tax, indeed, is comprehended
a tax of four shillings upon the hogshead
of cyder, and another of ten shillings upon
the barrel of mum. In 1774, the tax upon
cyder produced only L.3083 : 6 : 8. It probably
fell somewhat short of its usual amount;
all the different taxes upon cyder, having, that
year, produced less than ordinary. The tax
upon mum, though much heavier, is still less
productive, on account of the smaller consumption
of that liquor. But to balance
whatever may be the ordinary amount of those
two taxes, there is comprehended under what
is called the country excise, first, the old excise
of six shillings and eightpence upon the
hogshead of cyder; secondly, a like tax of
six shillings and eightpence upon the
hogshead of verjuice; thirdly, another of eight
shillings and ninepence upon the hogshead of
vinegar; and, lastly, a fourth tax of elevenpence
upon the gallon of mead or metheglin.
The produce of those different taxes will probably
much more than counterbalance that of
the duties imposed, by what is called the annual
malt tax, upon cyder and mum.
Malt is consumed, not only in the brewery
of beer and ale, but in the manufacture of
low wines and spirits. If the malt tax were
to be raised to eighteen shillings upon the
quarter, it might be necessary to make some
abatement in the different excises which are
imposed upon those particular sorts of low
wines and spirits, of which malt makes any
part of the materials. In what are called
malt spirits, it makes commonly but a third
part of the materials; the other two-thirds
being either raw barley, or one-third barley
and one-third wheat. In the distillery of
malt spirits, both the opportunity and the
temptation to smuggle are much greater than
either in a brewery or in a malt-house; the
opportunity, on account of the smaller bulk
and greater value of the commodity, and the
temptation, on account of the superior height
of the duties, which amounted to 3s. 102⁄3d.[73]
upon the gallon of spirits. By increasing the
duties upon malt, and reducing those upon
the distillery, both the opportunities and the
temptation to smuggle would be diminished,
which might occasion a still further augmentation
of revenue.
It has for some time past been the policy
of Great Britain to discourage the consumption
of spirituous liquors, on account of their
supposed tendency to ruin the health and to
corrupt the morals of the common people.
According to this policy, the abatement of
the taxes upon the distillery ought not to be
so great as to reduce, in any respect, the price
of those liquors. Spirituous liquors might
remain as dear as ever; while, at the same
time, the wholesome and invigorating liquors
of beer and ale might be considerably reduced
in their price. The people might thus be in
part relieved from one of the burdens of which
they at present complain the most; while, at
the same time, the revenue might be considerably
augmented.
The objections of Dr. Davenant to this alteration
in the present system of excise duties,
seem to be without foundation. Those objections
are, that the tax, instead of dividing
itself, as at present, pretty equally upon the
profit of the maltster, upon that of the brewer,
and upon that of the retailer, would so far
as it affected profit, fall altogether upon
that of the maltster; that the maltster could
not so easily get back the amount of the tax
in the advanced price of his malt, as the brewer
and retailer in the advanced price of their
liquor; and that so heavy a tax upon malt
might reduce the rent and profit of barley
land.
No tax can ever reduce, for any considerable
time, the rate of profit in any particular
trade, which must always keep its level with
other trades in the neighbourhood. The present
duties upon malt, beer, and ale, do not
affect the profits of the dealers in those commodities,
who all get back the tax with an
additional profit, in the enhanced price of
their goods. A tax, indeed, may render the
goods upon which it is imposed so dear, as to
diminish the consumption of them. But the
consumption of malt is in malt liquors; and
a tax of eighteen shillings upon the quarter
of malt could not well render those liquors
dearer than the different taxes, amounting to
twenty-four or twenty-five shillings, do at
present. Those liquors, on the contrary,
would probably become cheaper, and the
consumption of them would be more likely to
increase than to diminish.
It is not very easy to understand why it
should be more difficult for the maltster to get
back eighteen shillings in the advanced price
of his malt, than it is at present for the brewer
to get back twenty-four or twenty-five,
sometimes thirty shillings, in that of his liquor.
The maltster, indeed, instead of a tax
of six shillings, would be obliged to advance
one of eighteen shillings upon every quarter
of malt. But the brewer is at present obliged
to advance a tax of twenty-four or twenty-five,
sometimes thirty shillings, upon every
quarter of malt which he brews. It could
not be more inconvenient for the maltster to
advance a lighter tax, than it is at present for
the brewer to advance a heavier one. The
maltster does not always keep in his granaries
a stock of malt, which it will require a
longer time to dispose of than the stock of
beer and ale which the brewer frequently
keeps in his cellars. The former, therefore,
may frequently get the returns of his money
as soon as the latter. But whatever inconveniency
might arise to the maltster from
being obliged to advance a heavier tax, it
could easily be remedied, by granting him a
few months longer credit than is at present
commonly given to the brewer.
Nothing could reduce the rent and profit
of barley land, which did not reduce the demand
for barley. But a change of system,
which reduced the duties upon a quarter of
malt brewed into beer and ale, from twenty-four
and twenty-five shillings to eighteen
shillings, would be more likely to increase
than diminish that demand. The rent and
profit of barley land, besides, must always be
nearly equal to those of other equally fertile
and equally well cultivated land. If they
were less, some part of the barley land would
soon be turned to some other purpose; and
if they were greater, more land would soon
be turned to the raising of barley. When
the ordinary price of any particular produce
of land is at what may be called a monopoly
price, a tax upon it necessarily reduces the
rent and profit of the land which grows it.
A tax upon the produce of those precious
vineyards, of which the wine falls so much
short of the effectual demand, that its price
is always above the natural proportion to that
of the produce of other equally fertile and
equally well cultivated land, would necessarily
reduce the rent and profit of those vineyards.
The price of the wines being already
the highest that could be got for the quantity
commonly sent to market, it could not be
raised higher without diminishing that quantity;
and the quantity could not be diminished
without still greater loss, because the
lands could not be turned to any other equally
valuable produce. The whole weight of
the tax, therefore, would fall upon the rent
and profit; properly upon the rent of the
vineyard. When it has been proposed to lay
any new tax upon sugar, our sugar planters
have frequently complained that the whole
weight of such taxes fell not upon the consumer,
but upon the producer; they never
having been able to raise the price of their
sugar after the tax higher than it was before.
The price had, it seems, before the tax, been
a monopoly price; and the arguments adduced
to show that sugar was an improper subject
of taxation, demonstrated perhaps that it
was a proper one; the gains of monopolists,
whenever they can be come at, being certainly
of all subjects the most proper. But the
ordinary price of barley has never been a monopoly
price; and the rent and profit of barley
land have never been above their natural
proportion to those of other equally fertile
and equally well cultivated land. The different
taxes which have been imposed upon
malt, beer, and ale, have never lowered the
price of barley; have never reduced the rent
and profit of barley land. The price of malt
to the brewer has constantly risen in proportion
to the taxes imposed upon it; and those
taxes, together with the different duties upon
beer and ale, have constantly either raised
the price, or, what comes to the same thing,
reduced the quality of those commodities to
the consumer. The final payment of those
taxes has fallen constantly upon the consumer,
and not upon the producer.
The only people likely to suffer by the
change of system here proposed, are those who
brew for their own private use. But the
exemption, which this superior rank of people
at present enjoy, from very heavy taxes which
are paid by the poor labourer and artificer,
is surely most unjust and unequal, and ought
to be taken away, even though this change
was never to take place. It has probably
been the interest of this superior order of
people, however, which has hitherto prevented
a change of system that could not well fail
both to increase the revenue and to relieve
the people.
Besides such duties as those of customs
and excise above mentioned, there are several
others which affect the price of goods more
unequally and more indirectly. Of this kind
are the duties, which, in French, are called
peages, which in old Saxon times were called
the duties of passage, and which seem to have
been originally established for the same purpose
as our turnpike tolls, or the tolls upon
our canals and navigable rivers, for the maintenance
of the road or of the navigation.
Those duties, when applied to such purposes,
are most properly imposed according to the
bulk or weight of the goods. As they were
originally local and provincial duties, applicable
to local and provincial purposes, the
administration of them was, in most cases,
entrusted to the particular town, parish, or
lordship, in which they were levied; such
communities being, in some way or other,
supposed to be accountable for the application.
The sovereign, who is altogether unaccountable,
has in many countries assumed
to himself the administration of those duties;
and though he has in most cases enhanced
very much the duty, he has in many entirely
neglected the application. If the turnpike
tolls of Great Britain should ever become
one of the resources of government, we may
learn, by the example of many other nations,
what would probably be the consequence.
Such tolls, no doubt, are finally
paid by the consumer; but the consumer is
not taxed in proportion to his expense, when
he pays, not according to the value, but according
to the bulk or weight of what he
consumes. When such duties are imposed,
not according to the bulk or weight, but according
to the supposed value of the goods,
they become properly a sort of inland customs
or excise, which obstruct very much the
most important of all branches of commerce,
the interior commerce of the country.
In some small states, duties similar to those
passage duties are imposed upon goods carried
across the territory, either by land or by
water, from one foreign country to another.
These are in some countries called transit-duties.
Some of the little Italian states
which are situated upon the Po, and the rivers
which run into it, derive some revenue
from duties of this kind, which are paid altogether
by foreigners, and which, perhaps, are
the only duties that one state can impose
upon the subjects of another, without obstructing,
in any respect, the industry or
commerce of its own. The most important
transit-duty in the world, is that levied by
the king of Denmark upon all merchant ships
which pass through the Sound.
Such taxes upon luxuries, as the greater
part of the duties of customs and excise,
though they all fall indifferently upon every
different species of revenue, and are paid
finally, or without any retribution, by whoever
consumes the commodities upon which
they are imposed, yet they do not always fall
equally or proportionally upon the revenue of
every individual. As every man's humour
regulates the degree of his consumption,
every man contributes rather according to his
humour, than in proportion to his revenue:
the profuse contribute more, the parsimonious
less, than their proper proportion. During
the minority of a man of great fortune, he
contributes commonly very little, by his consumption,
towards the support of that state
from whose protection he derives a great revenue.
Those who live in another country,
contribute nothing by their consumption towards
the support of the government of that
country, in which is situated the source of
their revenue. If in this latter country there
should be no land tax, nor any considerable
duty upon the transference either of moveable
or immoveable property, as is the case in Ireland,
such absentees may derive a great revenue
from the protection of a government,
to the support of which they do not contribute
a single shilling. This inequality is likely
to be greatest in a country of which the
government is, in some respects, subordinate
and dependant upon that of some other.
The people who possess the most extensive
property in the dependant, will, in this case,
generally chuse to live in the governing country.
Ireland is precisely in this situation;
and we cannot therefore wonder, that the
proposal of a tax upon absentees should be
so very popular in that country. It might,
perhaps, be a little difficult to ascertain either
what sort, or what degree of absence, would
subject a man to be taxed as an absentee, or
at what precise time the tax should either
begin or end. If you except, however, this
very peculiar situation, any inequality in the
contribution of individuals which can arise
from such taxes, is much more than compensated
by the very circumstance which occasions
that inequality; the circumstance that
every man's contribution is altogether voluntary;
it being altogether in his power, either
to consume, or not to consume, the commodity
taxed. Where such taxes, therefore,
are properly assessed, and upon proper commodities,
they are paid with less grumbling
than any other. When they are advanced by
the merchant or manufacturer, the consumer,
who finally pays them, soon comes to confound
them with the price of the commodities,
and almost forgets that he pays any tax.
Such taxes are, or may be, perfectly certain;
or may be assessed, so as to leave no
doubt concerning either what ought to be
paid, or when it ought to be paid; concerning
either the quantity or the time of payment.
Whatever uncertainty there may sometimes
be, either in the duties of customs in
Great Britain, or in other duties of the same
kind in other countries, it cannot arise from
the nature of those duties, but from the inaccurate
or unskilful manner in which the law
that imposes them is expressed.
Taxes upon luxuries generally are, and always
may be, paid piece-meal, or in proportion
as the contributors have occasion to purchase
the goods upon which they are imposed.
In the time and mode of payment, they are,
or may be, of all taxes the most convenient.
Upon the whole, such taxes, therefore, are
perhaps as agreeable to the three first of the
four general maxims concerning taxation, as
any other. They offend in every respect
against the fourth.
Such taxes, in proportion to what they
bring into the public treasury of the state, always
take out, or keep out, of the pockets of
the people, more than almost any other taxes.
They seem to do this in all the four different
ways in which it is possible to do it.
First, the levying of such taxes, even when
imposed in the most judicious manner, requires
a great number of custom-house and
excise officers, whose salaries and perquisites
are a real tax upon the people, which brings
nothing into the treasury of the state. This
expense, however, it must be acknowledged,
is more moderate in Great Britain than in
most other countries. In the year which
ended on the 5th of July, 1775, the gross
produce of the different duties, under the management
of the commissioners of excise in
England, amounted to L.5,507,308 : 18 : 8¼,
which was levied at an expense of little more
than five and a-half per cent. From this
gross produce, however, there must be deducted
what was paid away in bounties and
drawbacks upon the exportation of exciseable
goods, which will reduce the neat produce
below five millions.[74] The levying of the
salt duty, and excise duty, but under a different
management, is much more expensive.
The neat revenue of the customs does not
amount to two millions and a-half, which is
levied at an expense of more than ten per
cent., in the salaries of officers and other incidents.
But the perquisites of custom-house
officers are everywhere much greater than
their salaries; at some ports more than double
or triple those salaries. If the salaries of
officers, and other incidents, therefore, amount
to more than ten per cent. upon the
neat revenue of the customs, the whole expense
of levying that revenue may amount,
in salaries and perquisites together, to more
than twenty or thirty per cent. The officers of
excise receive few or no perquisites; and the
administration of that branch of the revenue
being of more recent establishment, is in general
less corrupted than that of the customs,
into which length of time has introduced and
authorized many abuses. By charging upon
malt the whole revenue which is at present
levied by the different duties upon malt and
malt liquors, a saving, it is supposed, of more
than L.50,000, might be made in the annual
expense of the excise. By confining the
duties of customs to a few sorts of goods, and
by levying those duties according to the excise
laws, a much greater saving might probably
be made in the annual expense of the
customs.
Secondly, such taxes necessarily occasion
some obstruction or discouragement to certain
branches of industry. As they always
raise the price of the commodity taxed, they
so far discourage its consumption, and consequently
its production. If it is a commodity
of home growth or manufacture, less labour
comes to be employed in raising and producing
it. If it is a foreign commodity of which
the tax increases in this manner the price, the
commodities of the same kind which are
made at home may thereby, indeed, gain
some advantage in the home market, and a
greater quantity of domestic industry may
thereby be turned toward preparing them.
But though this rise of price in a foreign
commodity, may encourage domestic industry
in one particular branch, it necessarily discourages
that industry in almost every other.
The dearer the Birmingham manufacturer
buys his foreign wine, the cheaper he necessarily
sells that part of his hardware with
which, or, what comes to the same thing,
with the price of which, he buys it. That
part of his hardware, therefore, becomes of
less value to him, and he has less encouragement
to work at it. The dearer the consumers
in one country pay for the surplus produce
of another, the cheaper they necessarily
sell that part of their own surplus produce
with which, or, what comes to the same thing,
with the price of which, they buy it. That
part of their own surplus produce becomes
of less value to them, and they have less encouragement
to increase its quantity. All
taxes upon consumable commodities, therefore,
tend to reduce the quantity of productive
labour below what it otherwise would be,
either in preparing the commodities taxed, if
they are home commodities, or in preparing
these with which they are purchased, if they
are foreign commodities. Such taxes, too, always
alter, more or less, the natural direction
of national industry, and turn it into a channel
always different from, and generally less
advantageous, than that in which is would
have run of its own accord.
Thirdly, the hope of evading such taxes by
smuggling, gives frequent occasion to forfeitures
and other penalties, which entirely
ruin the smuggler; a person who, though no
doubt highly blameable for violating the laws
of his country, is frequently incapable of violating
those of natural justice, and would
have been, in every respect, an excellent citizen,
had not the laws of his country made
that a crime which nature never meant to be
so. In those corrupted governments, where
there is at least a general suspicion of much
unnecessary expense, and great misapplication
of the public revenue, the laws which
guard it are little respected. Not many people
are scrupulous about smuggling, when,
without perjury, they can find an easy and
safe opportunity of doing so. To pretend to
have any scruple about buying smuggled
goods, though a manifest encouragement to
the violation of the revenue laws, and to the
perjury which almost always attends it, would,
in most countries, be regarded as one of those
pedantic pieces of hypocrisy which, instead of
gaining credit with anybody, serve only to
expose the person who affects to practise them
to the suspicion of being a greater knave
than most of his neighbours. By this indulgence
of the public, the smuggler is often
encouraged to continue a trade, which he is
thus taught to consider as in some measure
innocent; and when the severity of the revenue
laws is ready to fall upon him, he is
frequently disposed to defend with violence,
what he has been accustomed to regard as his
just property. From being at first, perhaps,
rather imprudent than criminal, he at last too
often becomes one of the hardiest and most
determined violators of the laws of society.
By the ruin of the smuggler, his capital,
which had before been employed in maintaining
productive labour, is absorbed either
in the revenue of the state, or in that of the
revenue officer; and is employed in maintaining
unproductive, to the diminution of the
general capital of the society, and of the useful
industry which it might otherwise have
maintained.
Fourthly, such taxes, by subjecting at least
the dealers in the taxed commodities, to the
frequent visits and odious examination of the
tax-gatherers, expose them sometimes, no
doubt, to some degree of oppression, and always
to much trouble and vexation; and
though vexation, as has already been said, is
not strictly speaking expense, it is certainly
equivalent to the expense at which every man
would be willing to redeem himself from it.
The laws of excise, though more effectual for
the purpose for which they were instituted,
are, in this respect, more vexatious than those
of the customs. When a merchant has imparted
goods subject to certain duties of customs;
when he has paid those duties, and
lodged the goods in his warehouse; he is not,
in most cases, liable to any further trouble or
vexation from the custom-house officer. It is
otherwise with goods subject to duties of excise.
The dealers have no respite from the
continual visits and examination of the excise
officers. The duties of excise are, upon this
account, more unpopular than those of the
customs; and so are the officers who levy
them. Those officers, it is pretended, though
in general, perhaps, they do their duty fully
as well as those of the customs; yet, as that
duty obliges them to be frequently very troublesome
to some of their neighbours, commonly
contract a certain hardness of character,
which the others frequently have not.
This observation, however, may very probably
be the mere suggestion of fraudulent dealers,
whose smuggling is either prevented or
detected by their diligence.
The inconveniencies, however, which are,
perhaps, in some degree inseparable from
taxes upon consumable commodities, fall as
light upon the people of Great Britain as upon
those of any other country of which the
government is nearly as expensive. Our
state is not perfect, and might be mended;
but it is as good, or better, than that of most
of our neighbours.
In consequence of the notion, that duties
upon consumable goods were taxes upon
the profits of merchants, those duties have, in
some countries, been repeated upon every successive
sale of the goods. If the profits of
the merchant-importer or merchant-manufacturer
were taxed, equality seemed to require
that those of all the middle buyers, who intervened
between either of them and the consumer,
should likewise be taxed. The famous
alcavala of Spain seems to have been established
upon this principle. It was at first a tax
of ten per cent, afterwards of fourteen per
cent. and it is at present only six per cent.
upon the sale of every sort of property, whether
moveable or immoveable; and it is repeated
every time the property is sold.[75] The levying
of this tax requires a multitude of revenue
officers, sufficient to guard the transportation
of goods, not only from one province to
another, but from one shop to another. It
subjects, not only the dealers in some sorts of
goods, but those in all sorts, every farmer,
every manufacturer, every merchant and shopkeeper,
to the continual visit and examination
of the tax-gatherers. Through the greater
part of the country in which a tax of this kind
is established, nothing can be produced for
distant sale. The produce of every part of the
country must be proportioned to the consumption
of the neighbourhood. It is to the alcavala,
accordingly, that Ustaritz imputes the ruin
of the manufactures of Spain. He might have
imputed to it, likewise, the declension of agriculture,
it being imposed not only upon manufactures,
but upon the rude produce of the land.
In the kingdom of Naples, there is a similar
tax of three per cent. upon the value of
all contracts, and consequently upon that of
all contracts of sale. It is both lighter than
the Spanish tax, and the greater part of
towns and parishes are allowed to pay a composition
in lieu of it. They levy this composition
in what manner they please, generally
in a way that gives no interruption to the
interior commerce of the place. The Neapolitan
tax, therefore, is not near so ruinous
as the Spanish one.
The uniform system of taxation, which,
with a few exceptions of no great consequence,
takes place in all the different parts of the
united kingdom of Great Britain, leaves the
interior commerce of the country, the inland
and coasting trade, almost entirely free. The
inland trade is almost perfectly free; and the
greater part of goods may be carried from one
end of the kingdom to the other, without requiring
any permit or let-pass, without being
subject to question, visit or examination, from
the revenue officers. There are a few exceptions,
but they are such as can give no interruption
to any important branch of inland
commerce of the country. Goods carried
coastwise, indeed, require certificates or coast-cockets.
If you except coals, however, the
rest are almost all duty-free. This freedom of
interior commerce, the effect of the uniformity
of the system of taxation, is perhaps one of the
principal causes of the prosperity of Great
Britain; every great country being necessarily
the best and most extensive market for the
greater part of the productions of its own industry.
If the same freedom in consequence
of the same uniformity, could be extended to
Ireland and the plantations, both the grandeur
of the state, and the prosperity of every part
of the empire, would probably be still greater
than at present.
In France, the different revenue laws which
take place in the different provinces, require a
multitude of revenue officers to surround, not
only the frontiers of the kingdom, but those
of almost each particular province, in order
either to prevent the importation of certain
goods, or to subject it to the payment of certain
duties, to the no small interruption of
the interior commerce of the country. Some
provinces are allowed to compound for the
gabelle, or salt tax; others are exempted from
it altogether. Some provinces are exempted
from the exclusive sale of tobacco, which the
farmers-general enjoy through the greater part
of the kingdom. The aides, which correspond
to the excise in England, are very different in
different provinces. Some provinces are exempted
from them, and pay a composition or
equivalent. In those in which they take place,
and are in farm, there are many local duties
which do not extend beyond a particular town
or district. The traites, which correspond to
our customs, divide the kingdom into three
great parts; first, the provinces subject to the
tariff of 1664, which are called the provinces of
the five great farms, and under which are comprehended
Picardy, Normandy, and the greater
part of the interior provinces of the kingdom;
secondly, the provinces subject to the
tariff of 1667, which are called the provinces
reckoned foreign, and under which are comprehended
the greater part of the frontier provinces;
and, thirdly, those provinces which
are said to be treated as foreign, or which,
because they are allowed a free commerce with
foreign countries, are, in their commerce with
the other provinces of France, subjected to
the same duties as other foreign countries.
These are Alsace, the three bishoprics of Mentz,
Toul, and Verdun, and the three cities of
Dunkirk, Bayonne, and Marseilles. Both in
the provinces of the five great farms (called
so on account of an ancient division of the
duties of customs into five great branches,
each of which was originally the subject of a
particular farm, though they are now all
united into one), and in those which are
said to be reckoned foreign, there are many
local duties which do not extend beyond a
particular town or district. There are some
such even in the provinces which are said to
be treated as foreign, particularly in the city
of Marseilles. It is unnecessary to observe
how much both the restraints upon the interior
commerce of the country, and the number of
the revenue officers, must be multiplied, in
order to guard the frontiers of those different
provinces and districts which are subject to
such different systems of taxation.
Over and above the general restraints arising
from this complicated system of revenue
laws, the commerce of wine (after corn, perhaps,
the most important production of France)
is, in the greater part of the provinces, subject
to particular restraints arising from the
favour which has been shown to the vineyards
of particular provinces and districts above those
of others. The provinces most famous for
their wines, it will be found, I believe, are
those in which the trade in that article is subject
to the fewest restraints of this kind. The
extensive market which such provinces enjoy,
encourages good management both in the
cultivation of their vineyards, and in the subsequent
preparation of their wines.
Such various and complicated revenue laws
are not peculiar to France. The little duchy
of Milan is divided into six provinces, in each
of which there is a different system of taxation,
with regard to several different sorts of
consumable goods. The still smaller territories
of the duke of Parma are divided into
three or four, each of which has, in the same
manner, a system of its own. Under such
absurd management, nothing but the great
fertility of the soil, and happiness of the climate,
could preserve such countries from soon
relapsing into the lowest state of poverty and
barbarism.
Taxes upon consumable commodities may
either be levied by an administration, of which
the officers are appointed by government, and
immediately accountable to government,
of which the revenue must, in this case, vary
from year to year, according to the occasional
variations in the produce of the tax; or they
may be let in farm for a rent certain, the farmer
being allowed to appoint his own officers,
who, though obliged to levy the tax in the
manner directed by the law, are under his
immediate inspection, and are immediately
accountable to him. The best and most frugal
way of levying a tax can never be by
farm. Over and above what is necessary for
paying the stipulated rent, the salaries of the
officers, and the whole expense of administration,
the farmer must always draw from
the produce of the tax a certain profit, proportioned
at least to the advance which he makes,
to the risk which he runs, to the trouble which
he is at, and to the knowledge and skill which
it requires to manage so very complicated a
concern. Government, by establishing an administration
under their own immediate inspection,
of the same kind with that which the
farmer establishes, might at least save this
profit, which is almost always exorbitant. To
farm any considerable branch of the public revenue
requires either a great capital, or a great
credit; circumstances which would alone restrain
the competition for such an undertaking
to a very small number of people. Of the few
who have this capital or credit, a still smaller
number have the necessary knowledge or experience;
another circumstance which restrains
the competition still further. The very few
who are in condition to become competitors,
find it more for their interest to combine together;
to become copartners, instead of competitors;
and, when the farm is set up to
auction, to offer no rent but what is much below
the rent value. In countries where the
public revenues are in farm, the farmers are
generally the most opulent people. Their
wealth would alone excite the public indignation;
and the vanity which almost always
accompanies such upstart fortunes, the foolish
ostentation with which they commonly
display that wealth, excite that indignation
still more.
The farmers of the public revenue never
find the laws too severe, which punish any attempt
to evade the payment of a tax. They
have no bowels for the contributors, who are
not their subjects, and whose universal bankruptcy,
if it should happen the day after the
farm is expired, would not much affect their
interest. In the greatest exigencies of the
state, when the anxiety of the sovereign for
the exact payment of his revenue is necessarily
the greatest, they seldom fail to complain, that
without laws more rigorous than those which
actually took place, it will be impossible for
them to pay even the usual rent. In those
moments of public distress, their commands
cannot be disputed. The revenue laws, therefore,
become gradually more and more severe.
The most sanguinary are always to be found
in countries where the greater part of the public
revenue is in farm; the mildest, in countries
where it is levied under the immediate
inspection of the sovereign. Even a bad sovereign
feels more compassion for his people
than can ever be expected from the farmers
of his revenue. He knows that the permanent
grandeur of his family depends upon
the prosperity of his people, and he will never
knowingly ruin that prosperity for the sake
of any momentary interest of his own. It
is otherwise with the farmers of his revenue,
whose grandeur may frequently be the effect
of the ruin, and not of the prosperity, of his
people.
A tax is sometimes not only farmed for a
certain rent, but the farmer has, besides, the
monopoly of the commodity taxed. In France,
the duties upon tobacco and salt are levied in
this manner. In such cases, the farmer, instead
of one, levies two exorbitant profits upon
the people; the profit of the farmer, and
the still more exorbitant one of the monopolist.
Tobacco being a luxury, every man is
allowed to buy or not to buy as he chuses;
but salt being a necessary, every man is obligated
to buy of the farmer a certain quantity
of it; because, if he did not buy this quantity
of the farmer, he would, it is presumed,
buy it of some smuggler. The taxes upon
both commodities are exorbitant. The temptation
to smuggle, consequently, is to many
people irresistible; while, at the same time,
the rigour of the law, and the vigilance of
the farmer's officers, render the yielding to the
temptation almost certainly ruinous. The
smuggling of salt and tobacco sends every
year several hundred people to the galleys,
besides a very considerable number whom it
sends to the gibbet. Those taxes, levied in
this manner, yield a very considerable revenue
to government. In 1767, the farm
of tobacco was let for twenty-two millions
five hundred and forty-one thousand two
hundred and seventy-eight livres a-year; that
of salt for thirty-six millions four hundred
and ninety-two thousand four hundred and
four livres. The farm, in both cases, was to
commence in 1768, and to last for six
years. These who consider the blood of the
people as nothing, in comparison with the
revenue of the prince, may, perhaps, approve
of this method of levying taxes. Similar
taxes and monopolies of salt and tobacco have
been established in many other countries, particularly
in the Austrian and Prussian dominions,
and in the greater part of the states of
Italy.
In France, the greater part of the actual
revenue of the crown is derived from eight
different sources; the taille, the capitation,
the two vingtiemes, the gabelles, the aides,
the traites, the domaine, and the farm of tobacco.
The five last are, in the greater part
of the provinces, under farm. The three first
are everywhere levied by an administration,
under the immediate inspection and direction
of government; and it is universally acknowledged,
that in proportion to what they take
out of the pockets of the people, they bring
more into the treasury of the prince than the
other five, of which the administration is much
more wasteful and expensive.
The finances of France seem, in their present
state, to admit of three very obvious reformations.
First, by abolishing the taille and
the capitation, and by increasing the number of
the vingtiemes, so as to produce an additional
revenue equal to the amount of those other
taxes, the revenue of the crown might be preserved;
the expense of collection might be
much diminished; the vexation of the inferior
ranks of people, which the taille and capitation
occasion, might be entirely prevented;
and the superior ranks might not be more
burdened than the greater part of them are at
present. The vingtieme, I have already observed,
is a tax very nearly of the same kind
with what is called the land tax of England.
The burden of the taille, it is acknowledged,
falls finally upon the proprietors of land; and
as the greater part of the capitation is assessed
upon those who are subject to the taille, at so
much a-pound of that other tax, the final
payment of the greater part of it must likewise
fall upon the same order of people.
Though the number of the vingtiemes, therefore,
was increased, so as to produce an additional
revenue equal to the amount of both
those taxes, the superior ranks of people might
not be more burdened than they are at present;
many individuals, no doubt, would, on
account of the great inequalities with which
the taille is commonly assessed upon the estates
and tenants of different individuals. The
interest and opposition of such favoured subjects,
are the obstacles most likely to prevent
this, or any other reformation of the same
kind. Secondly, by rendering the gabelle,
the aides, the traites, the taxes upon tobacco,
all the different customs and excises, uniform
in all the different parts of the kingdom, those
taxes might be levied at much less expense,
and the interior commerce of the kingdom
might be rendered as free as that of England.
Thirdly, and lastly, by subjecting all those
taxes to an administration under the immediate
inspection and direction of government,
the exorbitant profits of the farmers-general
might be added to the revenue of the state.
The opposition arising from the private interest
of individuals, is likely to be as effectual
for preventing the two last as the first-mentioned
scheme of reformation.
The French system of taxation seems, in
every respect, inferior to the British. In
Great Britain, ten millions sterling are annually
levied upon less than eight millions of
people, without its being possible to say that
any particular order is oppressed. From the
Collections of the Abbé Expilly, and the observations
of the author of the Essay upon
the Legislation and Commerce of Corn, it
appears probable that France, including the
provinces of Lorraine and Bar, contains about
twenty-three or twenty-four millions of people;
three times the number, perhaps, contained
in Great Britain. The soil and climate
of France are better than those of Great Britain.
The country has been much longer in a
state of improvement and cultivation, and is,
upon that account, better stocked with all those
things which it requires a long time to raise
up and accumulate; such as great towns, and
convenient and well-built houses, both in town
and country. With these advantages, it might
be expected, that in France a revenue of thirty
millions might be levied for the support of
the state, with as little inconvenience as a revenue
of ten millions is in Great Britain. In
1765 and 1766, the whole revenue paid into
the treasury of France, according to the best,
though, I acknowledge, very imperfect accounts
which I could get of it, usually run
between 308 and 325 millions of livres; that
is, it did not amount to fifteen millions sterling;
not the half of what might have been
expected, had the people contributed in the
same proportion to their numbers as the people
of Great Britain. The people of France,
however, it is generally acknowledged, are
much more oppressed by taxes than the people
of Great Britain. France, however, is certainly
the great empire in Europe, which, after that
of Great Britain, enjoys the mildest and most
indulgent government.
In Holland, the heavy taxes upon the necessaries
of life have ruined, it is said, their
principal manufacturers, and are likely to discourage,
gradually, even their fisheries and
their trade in ship-building. The taxes upon
the necessaries of life are inconsiderable in
Great Britain, and no manufacture has hitherto
been ruined by them. The British taxes
which bear hardest on manufactures, are some
duties upon the importation of raw materials,
particularly upon that of raw silk. The revenue
of the States-General and of the different
cities, however, is said to amount to more
than five millions two hundred and fifty thousand
pounds sterling; and as the inhabitants
of the United Provinces cannot well be supposed
to amount to more than a third part
of those of Great Britain, they must, in proportion
to their number, be much more heavily
taxed.
After all the proper subjects of taxation
have been exhausted, if the exigencies of the
state still continue to require new taxes, they
must be imposed upon improper ones. The
taxes upon the necessaries of life, therefore,
may be no impeachment of the wisdom of that
republic, which, in order to acquire and to
maintain its independency, has, in spite of
its great frugality, been involved in such expensive
wars as have obliged it to contract
great debts. The singular countries of Holland
and Zealand, besides, require a considerable
expense even to preserve their existence,
or to prevent their being swallowed up by the
sea, which must have contributed to increase
considerably the load of taxes in those two
provinces. The republican form of government
seems to be the principal support of the
present grandeur of Holland. The owners
of great capitals, the great mercantile families,
have generally either some direct share, or
some indirect influence, in the administration
of that government. For the sake of the respect
and authority which they derive from
this situation, they are willing to live in a
country where their capital, if they employ it
themselves, will bring them less profit, and if
they lend it to another, less interest; and
where the very moderate revenue which they
can draw from it will purchase less of the
necessaries and conveniencies of life than in
any other part of Europe. The residence of
such wealthy people necessarily keeps alive,
in spite of all disadvantages, a certain degree
of industry in the country. Any public calamity
which should destroy the republican
form of government, which should throw the
whole administration into the hands of nobles
and of soldiers, which should annihilate altogether
the importance of those wealthy merchants,
would soon render it disagreeable to
them to live in a country where they were no
longer likely to be much respected. They
would remove both their residence and their
capital to some other country, and the industry
and commerce of Holland would soon
follow the capitals which supported them.
In that rude state of society which precedes
the extension of commerce and the improvement
of manufactures; when those expensive
luxuries, which commerce and manufactures
can alone introduce, are altogether unknown;
the person who possesses a large revenue, I
have endeavoured to show in the third book
of this Inquiry, can spend or enjoy that revenue
in no other way than by maintaining
nearly as many people as it can maintain. A
large revenue may at all times be said to consist
in the command of a large quantity of
the necessaries of life. In that rude state of
things, it is commonly paid in a large quantity
of those necessaries, in the materials of
plain food and coarse clothing, in corn and
cattle, in wool and raw hides. When neither
commerce nor manufactures furnish any thing
for which the owner can exchange the greater
part of those materials which are over and
above his own consumption, he can do nothing
with the surplus, but feed and clothe
nearly as many people as it will feed and clothe.
A hospitality in which there is no luxury, and a
liberality in which there is no ostentation,
occasion, in this situation of things, the principal
expenses of the rich and the great.
But these I have likewise endeavoured to
show, in the same book, are expenses by which
people are not very apt to ruin themselves.
There is not, perhaps, any selfish pleasure so
frivolous, of which the pursuit has not sometimes
ruined even sensible men. A passion
for cock-fighting has ruined many. But the
instances, I believe, are not very numerous, of
people who have been ruined by a hospitality
or liberality of this kind; though the hospitality
of luxury, and the liberality of ostentation
have ruined many. Among our feudal
ancestors, the long time during which estates
used to continue in the same family, sufficiently
demonstrates the general disposition
of people to live within their income. Though
the rustic hospitality, constantly exercised by
the great landholders, may not, to us in the
present times, seem consistent with that order
which we are apt to consider as inseparably
connected with good economy; yet we
must certainly allow them to have been at
least so far frugal, as not commonly to have
spent their whole income. A part of their
wool and raw hides, they had generally an
opportunity of selling for money. Some part
of this money, perhaps, they spent in purchasing
the few objects of vanity and luxury,
with which the circumstances of the times
could furnish them; but some part of it they
seem commonly to have hoarded. They
could not well, indeed, do any thing else but
hoard whatever money they saved. To trade,
was disgraceful to a gentleman; and to lend
money at interest, which at that time was
considered as usury, and prohibited by law,
would have been still more so. In those
times of violence and disorder, besides, it
was convenient to have a hoard of money at
hand, that in case they should be driven from
their own home, they might have something
of known value to carry with them to some
place of safety. The same violence which
made it convenient to hoard, made it equally
convenient to conceal the hoard. The frequency
of treasure-trove, or of treasure found,
of which no owner was known, sufficiently
demonstrates the frequency, in those times,
both of hoarding and of concealing the hoard.
Treasure-trove was then considered as an important
branch of the revenue of the sovereign.
All the treasure-trove of the kingdom
would scarce, perhaps, in the present
times, make an important branch of the revenue
of a private gentleman of a good
estate.
The same disposition, to save and to hoard,
prevailed in the sovereign, as well as in the
subjects. Among nations, to whom commerce
and manufactures are little known, the
sovereign, it has already been observed in the
fourth book, is in a situation which naturally
disposes him to the parsimony requisite for
accumulation. In that situation, the expense,
even of a sovereign, cannot be directed by
that vanity which delights in the gaudy finery
of a court. The ignorance of the times affords
but few of the trinkets in which that
finery consists. Standing armies are not
then necessary; so that the expense, even of
a sovereign, like that of any other great lord,
can be employed in scarce any thing but
bounty to his tenants, and hospitality to his
retainers. But bounty and hospitality very
seldom lead to extravagance; though vanity
almost always does. All the ancient sovereigns
of Europe, accordingly, it has already
been observed, had treasures. Every Tartar
chief, in the present times, is said to have
one.
In a commercial country, abounding with
every sort of expensive luxury, the sovereign,
in the same manner as almost all the great
proprietors in his dominions, naturally spends
a great part of his revenue in purchasing
those luxuries. His own and the neighbouring
countries supply him abundantly with all
the costly trinkets which compose the splendid,
but insignificant, pageantry of a court.
For the sake of an inferior pageantry of the
same kind, his nobles dismiss their retainers,
make their tenants independent, and become
gradually themselves as insignificant as the
greater part of the wealthy burghers in his
dominions. The same frivolous passions,
which influence their conduct, influence his.
How can it be supposed that he should be
the only rich man in his dominions who is insensible
to pleasures of this kind? If he does
not, what he is very likely to do, spend upon
those pleasures so great a part of his revenue
as to debilitate very much the defensive power
of the state, it cannot well be expected that
he should not spend upon them all that part
of it which is over and above what is necessary
for supporting that defensive power.
His ordinary expense becomes equal to his
ordinary revenue, and it is well if it does not
frequently exceed it. The amassing of treasure
can no longer be expected; and when
extraordinary exigencies require extraordinary
expenses, he must necessarily call upon his
subjects for an extraordinary aid. The present
and the late king of Prussia are the only
great princes of Europe, who, since the death
of Henry IV. of France, in 1610, are supposed
to have amassed any considerable treasure.
The parsimony which leads to accumulation
has become almost as rare in republican
as in monarchical governments. The
Italian republics, the United Provinces of the
Netherlands, are all in debt. The canton of
Berne is the single republic in Europe which
has amassed any considerable treasure. The
other Swiss republics have not. The taste for
some sort of pageantry, for splendid buildings,
at least, and other public ornaments, frequently
prevails as much in the apparently sober
senate-house of a little republic, as in the
dissipated court of the greatest king.
The want of parsimony, in time of peace,
imposes the necessity of contracting debt in
time of war. When war comes, there is no
money in the treasury, but what is necessary
for carrying on the ordinary expense of the
peace establishment. In war, an establishment
of three or four times that expense becomes
necessary for the defence of the state;
and consequently, a revenue three or four
times greater than the peace revenue. Supposing
that the sovereign should have, what
he scarce ever has, the immediate means of
augmenting his revenue in proportion to the
augmentation of his expense; yet still the
produce of the taxes, from which this increase
of revenue must be drawn, will not begin to
come into the treasury, till perhaps ten or
twelve months after they are imposed. But
the moment in which war begins, or rather
the moment in which it appears likely to begin,
the army must be augmented, the fleet
must be fitted out, the garrisoned towns must
be put into a posture of defence; that army,
that fleet, those garrisoned towns, must be
furnished with arms, ammunition, and provisions.
An immediate and great expense
must be incurred in that moment of immediate
danger, which will not wait for the gradual
and slow returns of the new taxes. In
this exigency, government can have no other
resource but in borrowing.
The same commercial state of society which,
by the operation of moral causes, brings government
in this manner into the necessity of
borrowing, produces in the subjects both an
ability and an inclination to lend. If it commonly
brings along with it the necessity of
borrowing, it likewise brings with it the facility
of doing so.
A country abounding with merchants and
manufacturers, necessarily abounds with a set
of people through whose hands, not only their
own capitals, but the capitals of all those who
either lend them money, or trust them with
goods, pass as frequently, or more frequently,
than the revenue of a private man, who,
without trade or business, lives upon his income,
passes through his hands. The revenue
of such a man can regularly pass through
his hands only once in a year. But the whole
amount of the capital and credit of a merchant,
who deals in a trade of which the returns
are very quick, may sometimes pass
through his hands two, three, or four times in
a year. A country abounding with merchants
and manufacturers, therefore, necessarily abounds
with a set of people, who have it at
all times in their power to advance, if they
chuse to do so, a very large sum of money to
government. Hence the ability in the subjects
of a commercial state to lend.
Commerce and manufactures can seldom
flourish long in any state which does not enjoy
a regular administration of justice; in
which the people do not feel themselves secure
in the possession of their property; in which
the faith of contracts is not supported by law;
and in which the authority of the state is not
supposed to be regularly employed in enforcing
the payment of debts from all those who
are able to pay. Commerce and manufactures,
in short, can seldom flourish in any
state, in which there is not a certain degree of
confidence in the justice of government. The
same confidence which disposes great merchants
and manufacturers upon ordinary occasions,
to trust their property to the protection
of a particular government, disposes them,
upon extraordinary occasions, to trust that government
with the use of their property. By
lending money to government, they do not
even for a moment diminish their ability to
carry on their trade and manufactures; on
the contrary, they commonly augment it. The
necessities of the state render government,
upon most occasions willing to borrow upon
terms extremely advantageous to the lender.
The security which it grants to the original
creditor, is made transferable to any other creditor;
and from the universal confidence in
the justice of the state, generally sells in the
market for more than was originally paid for
it. The merchant or monied man makes
money by lending money to government, and
instead of diminishing, increases his trading
capital. He generally considers it as a favour,
therefore, when the administration admits him
to a share in the first subscription for a new
loan. Hence the inclination or willingness
in the subjects of a commercial state to lend.
The government of such a state is very apt
to repose itself upon this ability and willingness
of its subjects to lend it their money on
extraordinary occasions. It foresees the facility
of borrowing, and therefore dispenses itself
from the duty of saving.
In a rude state of society, there are no great
mercantile or manufacturing capitals. The
individuals, who hoard whatever money they
can save, and who conceal their hoard, do so
from a distrust of the justice of government;
from a fear, that if it was known that they had
a hoard, and where that hoard was to be found,
they would quickly be plundered. In such a
state of things, few people would be able, and
nobody would be willing to lend their money
to government on extraordinary exigencies.
The sovereign feels that he must provide for
such exigencies by saving, because he foresees
the absolute impossibility of borrowing. This
foresight increases still further his natural disposition
to save.
The progress of the enormous debts which
at present oppress, and will in the long-run
probably ruin, all the great nations of Europe,
has been pretty uniform. Nations, like private
men, have generally begun to borrow
upon what may be called personal credit,
without assigning or mortgaging any particular
fund for the payment of the debt; and
when this resource has failed them, they have
gone on to borrow upon assignments or mortgages
of particular funds.
What is called the unfunded debt of Great
Britain, is contracted in the former of those
two ways. It consists partly in a debt which
bears, or is supposed to bear, no interest, and
which resembles the debts that a private man
contracts upon account; and partly in a debt
which bears interest, and which resembles
what a private man contracts upon his bill or
promissory-note. The debts which are due,
either for extraordinary services, or for services
either not provided for, or not paid at
the time when they are performed; part of
the extraordinaries of the army, navy, and ordnance,
the arrears of subsidies to foreign
princes, those of seamen's wages, &c. usually
constitute a debt of the first kind. Navy and
exchequer bills, which are issued sometimes
in payment of a part of such debts, and sometimes
for other purposes, constitutes a debt of
the second kind; exchequer bills bearing interest
from the day on which they are issued,
and navy bills six months after they are issued.
The bank of England, either by voluntarily
discounting those bills at their current
value, or by agreeing with government for
certain considerations to circulate exchequer
bills, that is, to receive them at par, paying
the interest which happens to be due upon
them, keeps up the value, and facilitates
their circulation, and thereby frequently enables
government to contract a very large debt
of this kind. In France, where there is no
bank, the state bills (billets d'etat[76]) have
sometimes sold at sixty and seventy per cent.
discount. During the great recoinage in
king William's time, when the bank of England
thought proper to put a stop to its usual
transactions, exchequer bills and tallies are
said to have sold from twenty-five to sixty per
cent. discount; owing partly, no doubt, to
the supposed instability of the new government
established by the Revolution, but partly,
too, to the want of the support of the bank
of England.
When this resource is exhausted, and it becomes
necessary, in order to raise money, to
assign or mortgage some particular branch of
the public revenue for the payment of the
debt, government has, upon different occasions,
done this in two different ways. Sometimes
it has made this assignment or mortgage
for a short period of time only, a year, or a
few years, for example; and sometimes for
perpetuity. In the one case, the fund was
supposed sufficient to pay, within the limited
time, both principal and interest of the money
borrowed. In the other, it was supposed sufficient
to pay the interest only, or a perpetual
annuity equivalent to the interest, government
being at liberty to redeem, at any time, this
annuity, upon paying back the principal sum
borrowed. When money was raised in the
one way, it was said to be raised by anticipation;
when in the other, by perpetual funding,
or, more shortly, by funding.
In Great Britain, the annual land and malt
taxes are regularly anticipated every year, by
virtue of a borrowing clause constantly inserted
into the acts which impose them. The
bank of England generally advances at an
interest, which, since the Revolution, has varied
from eight to three per cent., the sums of
which those taxes are granted, and receives
payment as their produce gradually comes in.
If there is a deficiency, which there always is,
it is provided for in the supplies of the ensuing
year. The only considerable branch of
the public revenue which yet remains unmortgaged,
is thus regularly spent before it comes
in. Like an improvident spendthrift, whose
pressing occasions will not allow him to wait
for the regular payment of his revenue, the
state is in the constant practice of borrowing
of its own factors and agents, and of paying
interest for the use of its own money.
In the reign of king William, and during
a great part of that of queen Anne, before
we had become so familiar as we are now
with the practice of perpetual funding, the
greater part of the new taxes were imposed
but for a short period of time (for four, five,
six, or seven years only), and a great part of
the grants of every year consisted in loans upon
anticipations of the produce of those taxes.
The produce being frequently insufficient for
paying, within the limited term, the principal
and interest of the money borrowed, deficiencies
arose; to make good which, it became
necessary to prolong the term.
In 1697, by the 8th of William III., c. 20,
the deficiencies of several taxes were charged
upon what was then called the first general
mortgage or fund, consisting of a prolongation
to the first of August 1706, of several different
taxes, which would have expired within a
shorter term, and of which the produce was
accumulated into one general fund. The deficiencies
charged upon this prolonged term amounted
to L.5,160,459 : 14 : 9½.
In 1701, those duties, with some others,
were still further prolonged, for the like purposes,
till the first of August 1710, and were
called the second general mortgage or fund.
The deficiencies charged upon it amounted to
L.2,055,999 : 7 : 11½.
In 1707, those duties were still further prolonged,
as a fund for new loans, to the first of
August 1712, and were called the third general
mortgage or fund. The sum borrowed
upon it was L.983,254 : 11 : 9¼.
In 1708, those duties were all (except the
old subsidy of tonnage and poundage, of
which one moiety only was made a part of this
fund, and a duty upon the importation of
Scotch linen, which had been taken off by the
articles of union) still further continued, as a
fund for new loans, to the first of August
1714, and were called the fourth general
mortgage or fund. The sum borrowed upon
it was L.925,176 : 9 : 2¼.
In 1709, those duties were all (except the old
subsidy of tonnage and poundage, which was
now left out of this fund altogether) still further
continued, for the same purpose, to the first of
August 1716, and were called the fifth general
mortgage or fund. The sum borrowed
upon it was L.922,029 : 6s.
In 1710, those duties were again prolonged
to the first of August 1720, and were called
the sixth general mortgage or fund. The sum
borrowed upon it was L.1,296,552 : 9 : 11¾.
In 1711, the same duties (which at this
time were thus subject to four different anticipations),
together with several others, were
continued for ever, and made a fund for paying
the interest of the capital of the South-sea
company, which had that year advanced to
government, for paying debts, and making
good deficiencies, the sum of L.9,177,967 : 15 : 4,
the greatest loan which at that time
had ever been made.
Before this period, the principal, so far as I
have been able to observe, the only taxes, which,
in order to pay the interest of a debt, had
been imposed for perpetuity, were these for
paying the interest of the money which had
been advanced to government by the bank and
East-India company, and of what it was expected
would be advanced, but which was
never advanced, by a projected land bank.
The bank fund at this time amounted to
L.3,375,027 : 17 : 10½, for which was paid an
annuity or interest of L.206,501 : 13 : 5. The
East-India fund amounted to L.3,200,000,
for which was paid an annuity or interest of
L.160,000; the bank fund being at six per
cent., the East-India fund at five per cent.
interest.
In 1715, by the first of George I., c. 12,
the different taxes which had been mortgaged
for paying the bank annuity, together with
several others, which, by this act, were likewise
rendered perpetual, were accumulated
into one common fund, called the aggregate
fund, which was charged not only with the
payment of the bank annuity, but with several
other annuities and burdens of different
kinds. This fund was afterwards augmented
by the third of George I., c. 8., and by the
fifth of George I., c. 3, and the different duties
which were then added to it were likewise
rendered perpetual.
In 1717, by the third of George I., c. 7,
several other taxes were rendered perpetual,
and accumulated into another common fund,
called the general fund, for the payment of
certain annuities, amounting in the whole to
L.724,849 : 6 : 10½.
In consequence of those different acts, the
greater part of the taxes, which before had
been anticipated only for a short term of years
were rendered perpetual, as a fund for paying,
not the capital, but the interest only, of the
money which had been borrowed upon them
by different successive anticipations.
Had money never been raised but by anticipation,
the course of a few years would have
liberated the public revenue, without any
other attention of government besides that of
not overloading the fund, by charging it with
more debt than it could pay within the limited
term, and not of anticipating a second
time before the expiration of the first anticipation.
But the greater part of European
governments have been incapable of those attentions.
They have frequently overloaded
the fund, even upon the first anticipation;
and when this happened not to be the case,
they have generally taken care to overload it,
by anticipating a second and a third time,
before the expiration of the first anticipation.
The fund becoming in this manner altogether
insufficient for paying both principal and interest
of the money borrowed upon it, it became
necessary to charge it with the interest only,
or a perpetual annuity equal to the interest;
and such improvident anticipations necessarily
gave birth to the more ruinous practice of
perpetual funding. But though this practice
necessarily puts off the liberation of the public
revenue from a fixed period, to one so indefinite
that it is not very likely ever to arrive;
yet, as a greater sum can, in all cases, be
raised by this new practice than by the old
one of anticipation, the former, when men
have once become familiar with it, has, in the
great exigencies of the state, been universally
preferred to the latter. To relieve the present
exigency, is always the object which principally
interests those immediately concerned in
the administration of public affairs. The future
liberation of the public revenue they leave to
the care of posterity.
During the reign of queen Anne, the market
rate of interest had fallen from six to five
per cent.; and, in the twelfth year of her
reign, five per cent. was declared to be the
highest rate which could lawfully be taken for
money borrowed upon private security. Soon
after the greater part of the temporary taxes
of Great Britain had been rendered perpetual,
and distributed into the aggregate, South-sea,
and general funds, the creditors of the public,
like those of private persons, were induced to
accept of five per cent. for the interest of their
money, which occasioned a saving of one per
cent. upon the capital of the greater part of
the debts which had been thus funded for perpetuity,
or of one-sixth of the greater part of
the annuities which were paid out of the three
great funds above mentioned. This saving
left a considerable surplus in the produce of
the different taxes which had been accumulated
into those funds, over and above what
was necessary for paying the annuities which
were now charged upon them, and laid the
foundation of what has since been called the
sinking fund. In 1717, it amounted to
L.323,434 : 7 : 7½. In 1727, the interest of
the greater part of the public debts was still
further reduced to four per cent.; and, in
1753 and 1757, to three and a-half, and three
per cent., which reductions still further augmented
the sinking fund.
A sinking fund, though instituted for the
payment of old, facilitates very much the contracting
of new debts. It is a subsidiary fund,
always at hand, to be mortgaged in aid of any
other doubtful fund, upon which money is
proposed to be raised in any exigency of the
state. Whether the sinking fund of Great
Britain has been more frequently applied to the
one or to other of those two purposes, will
sufficiently appear by and by.
Besides these two methods of borrowing,
by anticipations and by a perpetual funding,
there are two other methods, which hold a
sort of middle place between them; these are,
that of borrowing upon annuities for terms of
years, and that of borrowing upon annuities
for lives.
During the reigns of king William and
queen Anne, large sums were frequently
borrowed upon annuities for terms of years,
which were sometimes longer and sometimes
shorter. In 1693, an act was passed for
borrowing one million upon an annuity of
fourteen per cent., or L.140,000 a-year, for
sixteen years. In 1691, an act was passed
for borrowing a million upon annuities for
lives, upon terms which, in the present times,
would appear very advantageous; but the
subscription was not filled up. In the following
year, the deficiency was made good, by
borrowing upon annuities for lives, at fourteen
per cent. or a little more than seven years
purchase. In 1695, the persons who had
purchased those annuities were allowed to exchange
them for others of ninety-six years,
upon paying into the exchequer sixty-three
pounds in the hundred; that is, the difference
between fourteen per cent. for life, and fourteen
per cent. for ninety-six years, was sold for
sixty-three pounds, or for four and a-half years
purchase. Such was the supposed instability
of government, that even these terms procured
few purchasers. In the reign of queen Anne,
money was, upon different occasions, borrowed
both upon annuities for lives, and upon annuities
for terms of thirty-two, of eighty-nine,
of ninety-eight, and of ninety-nine years. In
1719, the proprietors of the annuities for
thirty-two years were induced to accept, in
lieu of them, South-sea stock to the amount
of eleven and a-half years purchase of the annuities,
together with an additional quantity
of stock, equal to the arrears which happened
then to be due upon them. In 1720, the
greater part of the other annuities for terms
of years, both long and short, were subscribed
into the same fund. The long annuities,
at that time, amounted to L.666,821 :
8 : 3½ a-year. On the 5th of January 1775,
the remainder of them, or what was not subscribed
at that time, amounted only to
L.136,453 : 12 : 8.
During the two wars which began in 1739
and in 1755, little money was borrowed, either
upon annuities for terms of years, or upon
those for lives. An annuity for ninety-eight
or ninety-nine years, however, is worth nearly
as much as a perpetuity, and should therefore,
one might think, be a fund for borrowing
nearly as much. But those who, in order to
make family settlements, and to provide for
remote futurity, buy into the public stocks,
would not care to purchase into one of which
the value was continually diminishing; and such
people make a very considerable proportion,
both of the proprietors and purchasers of stock.
An annuity for a long term of years, therefore,
though its intrinsic value may be very
nearly the same with that of a perpetual annuity,
will not find nearly the same number
of purchasers. The subscribers to a new loan,
who mean generally to sell their subscription
as soon as possible, prefer greatly a perpetual
annuity, redeemable by parliament, to an irredeemable
annuity, for a long term of years,
of only equal amount. The value of the former
may be supposed always the same, or
very nearly the same; and it makes, therefore,
a more convenient transferable stock than
the latter.
During the two last-mentioned wars, annuities,
either for terms of years or for lives,
were seldom granted, but as premiums to the
subscribers of a new loan, over and above the
redeemable annuity or interest, upon the credit
of which the loan was supposed to be made.
They were granted, not as the proper fund
upon which the money was borrowed, but as
an additional encouragement to the lender.
Annuities for lives have occasionally been
granted in two different ways; either upon separate
lives, or upon lots of lives, which, in
French, are called tontines, from the name of
their inventor. When annuities are granted
upon separate lives, the death of every individual
annuitant disburdens the public revenue,
so far as it was affected by his annuity.
When annuities are granted upon tontines, the
liberation of the public revenue does not
commence till the death of all the annuitants
comprehended in one lot, which may, sometimes
consist of twenty or thirty persons,
of whom the survivors succeed to the annuities
of all those who die before them;
the last survivor succeeding to the annuities of
the whole lot. Upon the same revenue, more
money can always be raised by tontines than
by annuities for separate lives. An annuity,
with a right of survivorship, is really worth
more than an equal annuity for a separate life;
and, from the confidence which every man
naturally has in his own good fortune, the
principle upon which is founded the success
of all lotteries, such an annuity generally sells
for something more than it is worth. In
countries where it is usual for government to
raise money by granting annuities, tontines
are, upon this account, generally preferred to
annuities for separate lives. The expedient
which will raise most money, is almost always
preferred to that which is likely to bring about,
in the speediest manner, the liberation of the
public revenue.
In France, a much greater proportion of the
public debts consists in annuities for lives
than in England. According to a memoir
presented by the parliament of Bourdeaux to
the king, in 1764, the whole public debt of
France is estimated at twenty-four hundred
millions of livres; of which the capital, for
which annuities for lives had been granted, is
supposed to amount to three hundred millions,
the eighth part of the whole public
debt. The annuities themselves are computed
to amount to thirty millions a-year, the fourth
part of one hundred and twenty millions, the
supposed interest of that whole debt. These
estimations, I know very well, are not exact;
but having been presented by so very respectable
a body as approximations to the truth,
they may, I apprehend, be considered as such.
It is not the different degrees of anxiety in
the two governments of France and England
for the liberation of the public revenue,
which occasions this difference in their respective
modes of borrowing; it arises altogether
from the different views and interests of the
lenders.
In England, the seat of government being
in the greatest mercantile city in the world,
the merchants are generally the people who
advance money to government. By advancing
it, they do not mean to diminish, but,
on the contrary, to increase their mercantile
capitals; and unless they expected to sell,
with some profit, their share in the subscription
for a new loan, they never would subscribe.
But if, by advancing their money,
they were to purchase, instead of perpetual annuities,
annuities for lives only, whether their
own or those of other people, they would not
always be so likely to sell them with a profit.
Annuities upon their own lives they would
always sell with loss; because no man will
give for an annuity upon the life of another,
whose age and state of health are nearly the
same with his own, the same price which he
would give for one upon his own. An annuity
upon the life of a third person, indeed,
is, no doubt, of equal value to the buyer and
the seller; but its real value begins to diminish
from the moment it is granted, and continues
to do so, more and more, as long as it
subsists. It can never, therefore, make so
convenient a transferable stock as a perpetual
annuity, of which the real value may be
supposed always the same, or very nearly the
same.
In France, the seat of government not being
in a great mercantile city, merchants do
not make so great a proportion of the people
who advance money to government. The
people concerned in the finances, the farmers-general,
the receivers of the taxes which are
not in farm, the court-bankers, &c. make the
greater part of those who advance their money
in all public exigencies. Such people are
commonly men of mean birth, but of great
wealth, and frequently of great pride. They
are too proud to marry their equals, and women
of quality disdain to marry them. They
frequently resolve, therefore, to live bachelors;
and having neither any families of their
own, nor much regard for those of their relations,
whom they are not always very fond of
acknowledging, they desire only to live in
splendour during their own time, and are not
unwilling that their fortune should end with
themselves. The number of rich people, besides,
who are either averse to marry, or whose
condition of life renders it either improper or
inconvenient for them to do so, is much greater
in France than in England. To such people,
who have little or no care for posterity,
nothing can be more convenient than to exchange
their capital for a revenue, which is to
last just as long, and no longer, than they
wish it to do.
The ordinary expense of the greater part
of modern governments, in time of peace, being
equal, or nearly equal, to their ordinary
revenue, when war comes, they are both unwilling
and unable to increase their revenue
in proportion to the increase of their expense.
They are unwilling, for fear of offending the
people, who, by so great and so sudden an
increase of taxes, would soon be disgusted
with the war; and they are unable, from not
well knowing what taxes would be sufficient
to produce the revenue wanted. The facility
of borrowing delivers them from the embarrassment
which this fear and inability would
otherwise occasion. By means of borrowing,
they are enabled, with a very moderate increase
of taxes, to raise, from year to year,
money sufficient for carrying on the war;
and by the practice of perpetual funding, they
are enabled, with the smallest possible increase
of taxes, to raise annually the largest possible
sum of money. In great empires, the people
who live in the capital, and in the provinces
remote from the scene of action, feel, many
of them, scarce any inconveniency from the
war, but enjoy, at their ease, the amusement
of reading in the newspapers the exploits of
their own fleets and armies. To them this
amusement compensates the small difference
between the taxes which they pay on account
of the war, and those which they had been
accustomed to pay in time of peace. They
are commonly dissatisfied with the return of
peace, which puts an end to their amusement,
and to a thousand visionary hopes of
conquest and national glory, from a longer
continuance of the war.
The return of peace, indeed, seldom relieves
them from the greater part of the taxes imposed
during the war. These are mortgaged
for the interest of the debt contracted, in order
to carry it on. If, over and above paying
the interest of this debt, and defraying the
ordinary expense of government, the old revenue,
together with the new taxes, produce
some surplus revenue, it may, perhaps, be
converted into a sinking fund for paying off
the debt. But, in the first place, this sinking
fund, even supposing it should be applied to
no other purpose, is generally altogether inadequate
for paying, in the course of any period
during which it can reasonably be expected
that peace should continue, the whole
debt contracted during the war; and, in the
second place, this fund is almost always applied
to other purposes.
The new taxes were imposed for the sole
purpose of paying the interest of the money
borrowed upon them. If they produce more,
it is generally something which was neither
intended nor expected, and is, therefore, seldom
very considerable. Sinking funds have
generally arisen, not so much from any surplus
of the taxes which was over and above
what was necessary for paying the interest or
annuity originally charged upon them, as
from a subsequent reduction of that interest;
that of Holland in 1655, and that of the ecclesiastical
state in 1685, were both formed in
this manner. Hence the usual insufficiency
of such funds.
During the most profound peace, various
events occur, which require an extraordinary
expense; and government finds it always more
convenient to defray this expense by misapplying
the sinking fund, than by imposing a
new tax. Every new tax is immediately felt
more or less by the people. It occasions always
some murmur, and meets with some
opposition. The more taxes may have been
multiplied, the higher they may have been
raised upon every different subject of taxation;
the more loudly the people complain
of every new tax, the more difficult it becomes,
too, either to find out new subjects of
taxation, or to raise much higher the taxes already
imposed upon the old. A momentary
suspension of the payment of debt is not immediately
felt by the people, and occasions
neither murmur nor complaint. To borrow
of the sinking fund is always an obvious and
easy expedient for getting out of the present
difficulty. The more the public debts may
have been accumulated, the more necessary it
may have become to study to reduce them;
the more dangerous, the more ruinous it may
be to missapply any part of the sinking fund;
the less likely is the public debt to be reduced
to any considerable degree, the more likely,
the more certainly, is the sinking fund to be
misapplied towards defraying all the extraordinary
expenses which occur in time of peace.
When a nation is already overburdened with
taxes, nothing but the necessities of a new
war, nothing but either the animosity of national
vengeance, or the anxiety for national
security, can induce the people to submit,
with tolerable patience, to a new tax. Hence
the usual misapplication of the sinking fund.
In Great Britain, from the time that we
had first recourse to the ruinous expedient of
perpetual funding, the reduction of the public
debt, in time of peace, has never borne
any proportion to its accumulation in time of
war. It was in the war which began in 1668,
and was concluded by the treaty of Ryswick,
in 1697, that the foundation of the present
enormous debt of Great Britain was first
laid.
On the 31st of December 1697, the public
debts of Great Britain, funded and unfunded,
amounted to L.21,515,742 : 13 : 8½.
A great part of those debts had been contracted
upon short anticipations, and some
part upon annuities for lives; so that, before
the 31st of December 1701, in less than four
years, there had partly been paid off, and
partly reverted to the public, the sum of
L.5,121,041 : 12 : 0¾; a greater reduction
of the public debt than has ever since been
brought about in so short a period of time.
The remaining debt, therefore, amounted only
to L.16,394,701 : 1 : 7¼.
In the war which began in 1702, and which
was concluded by the treaty of Utrecht, the
public debts were still more accumulated. On
the 31st of December 1714, they amounted to
L.53,681,076 : 5 : 61⁄12. The subscription into
the South-sea fund, of the short and long
annuities, increased the capital of the public
debt; so that, on the 31st of December 1722,
it amounted to L.55,282,978 : 1 : 35⁄6. The reduction
of the debt began in 1723, and went
on so slowly, that, on the 31st of December
1739, during seventeen years of profound
peace, the whole sum paid off was no more
than L.8,328,354 : 17 : 113⁄12, the capital of
the public debt, at that time, amounting to
L.46,954,623 : 3 : 47⁄12.
The Spanish war, which began in 1739, and
the French war which soon followed it, occasioned
a further increase of the debt, which,
on the 31st of December 1748, after the war
had been concluded by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle,
amounted to L.78,293,313 : 1 : 10¾.
The most profound peace of 17 years continuance,
had taken no more than L.8,328,354 : 17 : 11¼ from it.
A war, of less than nine
years continuance, added L.31,338,689 : 18 : 61⁄6 to it.[77]
During the administration of Mr. Pelham,
the interest of the public debt was reduced, or
at least measures were taken for reducing it,
from four to three per cent.; the sinking
fund was increased, and some part of the public
debt was paid off. In 1755, before the
breaking out of the late war, the funded debt
of Great Britain amounted to L.72,289,673.
On the 5th of January 1763, at the conclusion
of the peace, the funded debt amounted
to L.122,603,336 : 8 : 2¼. The unfunded
debt has been stated at L.13,927,589 : 2 : 2.
But the expense occasioned by the war did
not end with the conclusion of the peace; so
that, though on the 5th of January 1764, the
funded debt was increased (partly by a new
loan, and partly by funding a part of the
unfunded debt) to L.129,586,789 : 10 : 1¾,
there still remained (according to the very
well informed author of Considerations on the
Trade and Finances of Great Britain) an unfunded
debt, which was brought to account in
that and the following year, of L.9,975,017, 12s. 215⁄44d.
In 1764, therefore, the public
debt of Great Britain, funded and unfunded
together, amounted, according to this author,
to L.139,561,807 : 2 : 4. The annuities for
lives, too, which had been granted as premiums
to the subscribers to the new loans in
1757, estimated at fourteen-years purchase,
were valued at L.472,500; and the annuities
for long terms of years, granted as premiums
likewise, in 1761 and 1762, estimated at
twenty-seven years and a-half purchase, were
valued at L.6,826,875. During a peace of
about seven years continuance, the prudent
and truly patriotic administration of Mr. Pelham
was not able to pay off an old debt of six
millions. During a war of nearly the same
continuance, a new debt of more than seventy-five
millions was contracted.
On the 5th of January 1775, the funded debt
of Great Britain amounted to L.124,996,086,
1s. 6¼d. The unfunded, exclusive of a large
civil-list debt, to L.4,150,236 : 3 : 117⁄8. Both
together, to L.129,146,322 : 5 : 6. According
to this account, the whole debt paid off, during
eleven years of profound peace, amounted
only to L.10,415,476 : 16 : 97⁄8. Even this
small reduction of debt, however, has not
been all made from the savings out of the ordinary
revenue of the state. Several extraneous
sums, altogether independent of that
ordinary revenue, have contributed towards
it. Amongst these we may reckon an additional
shilling in the pound land tax, for three
years; the two millions received from the
East-India company, as indemnification for
their territorial acquisitions; and the one hundred
and ten thousand pounds received from
the bank for the renewal of their charter. To
these must be added several other sums, which,
as they arose out of the late war, ought perhaps
to be considered as deductions from the
expenses of it. The principal are,
| The produce of French prizes | L.690,449 | 18 | 9 |
| Composition for French prisoners | 670,000 | 0 | 0 |
| What has been received from the sale of the ceded islands | 95,500 | 0 | 0 |
| | —————————— |
| Total, | L.1,455,949 | 18 | 9 |
If we add to this sum the balance of the earl
of Chatham's and Mr. Calcraft's accounts,
and other army savings of the same kind, together
with what has been received from the
bank, the East-India company, and the additional
shilling in the pound land tax, the
whole must be a good deal more than five
millions. The debt, therefore, which, since
the peace, has been paid out of the savings
from the ordinary revenue of the state, has
not, one year with another, amounted to half
a million a-year. The sinking fund has, no
doubt, been considerably augmented since the
peace, by the debt which had been paid off,
by the reduction of the redeemable four per
cents to three per cents, and by the annuities
for lives which have fallen in; and, if
peace were to continue, a million, perhaps,
might now be annually spared out of it towards
the discharge of the debt. Another
million, accordingly, was paid in the course
of last year; but at the same time, a large civil-list
debt was left unpaid, and we are now
involved in a new war, which, in its progress,
may prove as expensive as any of our former
wars.[78] The new debt which will probably be
contracted before the end of the next campaign,
may, perhaps, be nearly equal to all the
old debt which has been paid off from the savings
out of the ordinary revenue of the state.
It would be altogether chimerical, therefore,
to expect that the public debt should ever be
completely discharged, by any savings which
are likely to be made from that ordinary revenue
as it stands at present.
The public funds of the different indebted
nations of Europe, particularly those of England,
have, by one author, been represented
as the accumulation of a great capital, superadded
to the other capital of the country, by
means of which its trade is extended, its
manufactures are multiplied, and its lands
cultivated and improved, much beyond what
they could have been by means of that other
capital only. He does not consider that the
capital which the first creditors of the public
advanced to government, was, from the moment
in which he advanced it, a certain portion
of the annual produce, turned away from
serving in the function of a capital, to serve
in that of a revenue; from maintaining productive
labourers, to maintain unproductive
ones, and to be spent and wasted, generally in
the course of the year, without even the hope
of any future reproduction. In return for
the capital which they advanced, they obtained,
indeed, an annuity of the public funds, in
most cases, of more than equal value. This
annuity, no doubt, replaced to them their capital,
and enabled them to carry on their trade
and business to the same, or, perhaps, to a
greater extent than before; that is, they were
enabled, either to borrow of other people a
new capital, upon the credit of this annuity
or, by selling it, to get from other people a
new capital of their own, equal, or superior, to
that which they had advanced to government.
This new capital, however, which they in this
manner either bought or borrowed of other
people, must have existed in the country before,
and must have been employed, as all capitals
are, in maintaining productive labour.
When it came into the hands of those who
had advanced their money to government,
though it was, in some respects, a new capital
to them, it was not so to the country, but was
only a capital withdrawn from certain employments,
in order to be turned towards
others. Though it replaced to them what
they had advanced to government, it did not
replace it to the country. Had they not advanced
this capital to government, there would
have been in the country two capitals, two
portions of the annual produce, instead of
one, employed in maintaining productive labour.
When, for defraying the expense of government,
a revenue is raised within the year,
from the produce of free or unmortgaged
taxes, a certain portion of the revenue of private
people is only turned away from maintaining
one species of unproductive labour,
towards maintaining another. Some part of
what they pay in those taxes, might, no doubt,
have been accumulated into capital, and consequently
employed in maintaining productive
labour; but the greater part would probably
have been spent, and consequently employed
in maintaining unproductive labour.
The public expense, however, when defrayed
in this manner, no doubt hinders, more or less,
the further accumulation of new capital; but
it does not necessarily occasion the destruction
of any actually-existing capital.
When the public expense is defrayed by
funding, it is defrayed by the annual destruction
of some capital which had before existed
in the country; by the perversion of some
portion of the annual produce which had before
been destined for the maintenance of productive
labour, towards that of unproductive
labour. As in this case, however, the taxes
are lighter than they would have been, had a
revenue sufficient for defraying the same expense
been raised within the year; the private
revenue of individuals is necessarily less burdened,
and consequently their ability to save
and accumulate some part of that revenue into
capital, is a good deal less impaired. If the
method of funding destroys more old capital,
it, at the same time, hinders less the accumulation
or acquisition of new capital, than that
of defraying the public expense by a revenue
raised within the year. Under the system of
funding, the frugality and industry of private
people can more easily repair the breaches
which the waste and extravagance of government
may occasionally make in the general
capital of the society.
It is only during the continuance of war,
however, that the system of funding has this
advantage over the other system. Were the
expense of war to be defrayed always by a revenue
raised within the year, the taxes from
which that extraordinary revenue was drawn
would last no longer than the war. The ability
of private people to accumulate, though
less during the war, would have been greater
during the peace, than under the system of
funding. War would not necessarily have
occasioned the destruction of any old capitals,
and peace would have occasioned the accumulation
of many more new. Wars would,
in general, be more speedily concluded, and
less wantonly undertaken. The people feeling,
during continuance of war, the complete
burden of it, would soon grow weary of it;
and government, in order to humour them,
would not be under the necessity of carrying
it on longer than it was necessary to do so.
The foresight of the heavy and unavoidable
burdens of war would hinder the people from
wantonly calling for it when there was no
real or solid interest to fight for. The seasons
during which the ability of private people
to accumulate was somewhat impaired,
would occur more rarely, and be of shorter
continuance. Those, on the contrary, during
which that ability was in the highest vigour,
would be of much longer duration than they
can well be under the system of funding.
When funding, besides, has made a certain
progress, the multiplication of taxes which it
brings along with it, sometimes impairs as
much the ability of private people to accumulate,
even in time of peace, as the other system
would in time of war. The peace revenue
of Great Britain amounts at present to
more than ten millions a year. If free and
unmortgaged, it might be sufficient, with proper
management, and without contracting a
shilling of new debt, to carry on the most vigorous
war. The private revenue of the inhabitants
of Great Britain is at present as
much incumbered in time of peace, their ability
to accumulate is as much impaired, as it
would have been in the time of the most expensive
war, had the pernicious system of
funding never been adopted.
In the payment of the interest of the public
debt, it has been said, it is the right hand
which pays the left. The money does not go
out of the country. It is only a part of the
revenue of one set of the inhabitants which is
transferred to another; and the nation is not
a farthing the poorer. This apology is founded
altogether in the sophistry of the mercantile
system; and, after the long examinatior,
which I have already bestowed upon that system,
it may, perhaps, be unnecessary to say
any thing further about it. It supposes, besides,
that the whole public debt is owing to
the inhabitants of the country, which happens
not to be true; the Dutch, as well as several
other foreign nations, having a very considerable
share in our public funds. But though
the whole debt were owing to the inhabitants
of the country, it would not, upon that account,
be less pernicious.
Land and capital stock are the two original
sources of all revenue, both private and public.
Capital stock pays the wages of productive
labour, whether employed in agriculture,
manufactures, or commerce. The management
of those two original sources of revenue
belongs to two different sets of people; the
proprietors of land, and the owners or employers
of capital stock.
The proprietor of land is interested, for the
sake of his own revenue, to keep his estate in
as good condition as he can, by building and
repairing his tenants houses, by making and
maintaining the necessary drains and inclosures,
and all those other expensive improvements
which it properly belongs to the landlord
to make and maintain. But, by different
land taxes, the revenue of the landlord may
be so much diminished, and, by different duties
upon the necessaries and conveniencies of
life, that diminished revenue maybe rendered
of so little real value, that he may find himself
altogether unable to make or maintain
those expensive improvements. When the
landlord, however, ceases to do his part, it is
altogether impossible that the tenant should
continue to do his. As the distress of the landlord
increases, the agriculture of the country
must necessarily decline.
When, by different taxes upon the necessaries
and conveniencies of life, the owners
and employers of capital stock find, that whatever
revenue they derive from it, will not, in a
particular country, purchase the same quantity
of those necessaries and conveniencies
which an equal revenue would in almost any
other, they will be disposed to remove to some
other. And when, in order to raise those
taxes, all or the greater part of merchants and
manufacturers, that is, all or the greater part
of the employers of great capitals, come to
be continually exposed to the mortifying and
vexatious visits of the tax-gatherers, this disposition
to remove will soon be changed into an
actual removing. The industry of the country
will necessarily fall with the removal of
the capital which supported it, and the ruin of
trade and manufactures will follow the declension
of agriculture.
To transfer from the owners of those two
great sources of revenue, land, and capital
stock, from the persons immediately interested
in the good condition of every particular
portion of land, and in the good management
of every particular portion of capital stock, to
another set of persons (the creditors of the
public, who have no such particular interest), the
greater part of the revenue arising from either,
must, in the long-run, occasion both the neglect
of land, and the waste or removal of
capital stock. A creditor of the public has,
no doubt, a general interest in the prosperity
of the agriculture, manufactures, and commerce
of the country; and consequently in the good
condition of its land, and in the good management
of its capital stock. Should there
be any general failure or declension in any of
these things, the produce of the different taxes
might no longer be sufficient to pay him the
annuity or interest which is due to him. But
a creditor of the public, considered merely
as such, has no interest in the good condition
of any particular portion of land, or in
the good management of any particular portion
of capital stock. As a creditor of the
public, he has no knowledge of any such particular
portion. He has no inspection of it.
He can have no care about it. Its ruin may
in some cases be unknown to him, and cannot
directly affect him.
The practice of funding has gradually enfeebled
every state which has adopted it. The
Italian republics seem to have begun it. Genoa
and Venice, the only two remaining which
can pretend to an independent existence, have
both been enfeebled by it. Spain seems to
have learned the practice from the Italian republics,
and (its taxes being probably less
judicious than theirs) it has, in proportion to
its natural strength, been still more enfeebled.
The debts of Spain are of very old standing.
It was deeply in debt before the end of the
sixteenth century, about a hundred years before
England owed a shilling. France, notwithstanding
all its natural resources, languishes
under an oppressive load of the same
kind. The republic of the United Provinces
is as much enfeebled by its debts as either
Genoa or Venice. Is it likely that, in Great
Britain alone, a practice, which has brought
either weakness or dissolution into every other
country, should prove altogether innocent?
The system of taxation established in those
different countries, it may be said, is inferior
to that of England. I believe it is so. But it
ought to be remembered, that when the wisest
government has exhausted all the proper subjects
of taxation, it must, in cases of urgent
necessity, have recourse to improper ones.
The wise republic of Holland has, upon some
occasions, been obliged to have recourse to taxes
as inconvenient as the greater part of those of
Spain. Another war, begun before any considerable
liberation of the public revenue had
been brought about, and growing in its progress
as expensive as the last war, may, from
irresistible necessity, render the British system
of taxation as oppressive as that of Holland,
or even as that of Spain. To the
honour of our present system of taxation, indeed,
it has hitherto given so little embarrassment
to industry, that, during the course even
of the most expensive wars, the frugality and
good conduct of individuals seem to have
been able, by saving and accumulation, to repair
all the breaches which the waste and extravagance
of government had made in the general
capital of the society. At the conclusion
of the late war, the most expensive that Great
Britain ever waged, her agriculture was as
flourishing, her manufacturers as numerous
and as fully employed, and her commerce as
extensive, as they had ever been before. The
capital, therefore, which supported all those
different branches of industry, must have been
equal to what it had ever been before. Since
the peace, agriculture has been still further
improved; the rents of houses have risen in
every town and village of the country, a proof
of the increasing wealth and revenue of the
people; and the annual amount of the greater
part of the old taxes, of the principal branches
of the excise and customs, in particular, has
been continually increasing, an equally clear
proof of an increasing consumption, and consequently
of an increasing produce, which
could alone support that consumption. Great
Britain seems to support with ease, a burden
which, half a century ago, nobody believed her
capable of supporting. Let us not, however,
upon this account, rashly conclude that she is
capable of supporting any burden; not even
be too confident that she could support, without
great distress, a burden a little greater
than what has already been laid upon her.
When national debts have once been accumulated
to a certain degree, there is scarce, I
believe, a single instance of their having been
fairly and completely paid. The liberation
of the public revenue, if it has ever been
brought about at all, has always been brought
about by a bankruptcy; sometimes by an avowed
one, though frequently by a pretended
payment.
The raising of the denomination of the coin
has been the most usual expedient by which a
real public bankruptcy has been disguised
under the appearance of a pretended payment.
If a sixpence, for example, should, either
by act of parliament or royal proclamation,
be raised to the denomination of a shilling,
and twenty sixpences to that of a pound sterling;
the person who, under the old denomination,
had borrowed twenty shillings, or near
four ounces of silver, would, under the new,
pay with twenty sixpences, or with something
less than two ounces. A national debt of
about a hundred and twenty-eight millions,
near the capital of the funded and unfunded
debt of Great Britain, might, in this manner,
be paid with about sixty-four millions
of our present money. It would, indeed, be
a pretended payment only, and the creditors
of the public would really be defrauded of ten
shillings in the pound of what was due to
them. The calamity, too, would extend much
further than to the creditors of the public,
and those of every private person would suffer
a proportionable loss; and this without
any advantage, but in most cases with a great
additional loss, to the creditors of the public.
If the creditors of the public, indeed, were
generally much in debt to other people, they
might in some measure compensate their loss
by paying their creditors in the same coin in
which the public had paid them. But in most
countries, the creditors of the public are, the
greater part of them, wealthy people, who stand
more in the relation of creditors than in that
of debtors, towards the rest of their fellow-citizens.
A pretended payment of this kind,
therefore, instead of alleviating, aggravates, in
most cases, the loss of the creditors of the
public; and, without any advantage to the
public, extends the calamity to a great number
of other innocent people. It occasions a
general and most pernicious subversion of the
fortunes of private people; enriching, in
most cases, the idle and profuse debtor, at
the expense of the industrious and frugal
creditor; and transporting a great part of the
national capital from the hands which were
likely to increase and improve it, to those who
are likely to dissipate and destroy it. When
it becomes necessary for a state to declare itself
bankrupt, in the same manner as when it
becomes necessary for an individual to do so,
a fair, open, and avowed bankruptcy, is always
the measure which is both least dishonourable
to the debtor, and least hurtful to the
creditor. The honour of a state is surely
very poorly provided for, when, in order to
cover the disgrace of a real bankruptcy, it
has recourse to a juggling trick of this kind,
so easily seen through, and at the same time
so extremely pernicious.
Almost all states, however, ancient as well
as modern, when reduced to this necessity,
have, upon some occasions, played this very
juggling trick. The Romans, at the end of
the first Punic war, reduced the As, the coin
or denomination by which they computed the
value of all their other coins, from containing
twelve ounces of copper, to contain only two
ounces; that is, they raised two ounces of
copper to a denomination which had always
before expressed the value of twelve ounces.
The republic was, in this manner, enabled to
pay the great debts which it had contracted
with the sixth part of what it really owed.
So sudden and so great a bankruptcy, we
should in the present times be apt to imagine,
must have occasioned a very violent popular
clamour. It does not appear to have occasioned
any. The law which enacted it was,
like all other laws relating to the coin, introduced
and carried through the assembly of the
people by a tribune, and was probably a very
popular law. In Rome, as in all other ancient
republics, the poor people were constantly
in debt to the rich and the great, who, in
order to secure their votes at the annual elections,
used to lend them money at exorbitant
interest, which, being never paid, soon accumulated
into a sum too great for the debtor
to pay, or for any body else to pay for him.
The debtor, for fear of a very severe execution,
was obliged, without any further gratuity, to
vote for the candidate whom the creditor recommended.
In spite of all the laws against
bribery and corruption, the bounty of the candidates,
together with the occasional distributions
of coin which were ordered by the senate,
were the principal funds from which, during
the latter times of the Roman republic, the
poorer citizens derived their subsistence. To
deliver themselves from this subjection to
their creditors, the poorer citizens were continually
calling out, either for an entire abolition
of debts, or for what they called new
tables; that is, for a law which should entitle
them to a complete acquittance, upon paying
only a certain proportion of their accumulated
debts. The law which reduced the coin
of all denominations to a sixth part of its former
value, as it enabled them to pay their
debts with a sixth part of what they really
owed, was equivalent to the most advantageous
new tables. In order to satisfy the people,
the rich and the great were, upon several
different occasions, obliged to consent to laws,
both for abolishing debts, and for introducing
new tables; and they probably were induced
to consent to this law, partly for the same
reason, and partly that, by liberating the public
revenue, they might restore vigour to that
government, of which they themselves had
the principal direction. An operation of
this kind would at once reduce a debt of
L.128,000,000 to L.21,333,333 : 6 : 8. In
the course of the second Punic war, the As
was still further reduced, first, from two
ounces of copper to one ounce, and afterwards
from one ounce to half an ounce; that
is, to the twenty-fourth part of its original
value. By combining the three Roman operations
into one, a debt of a hundred and
twenty-eight millions of our present money,
might in this manner be reduced all at once
to a debt of L.5,333,333 : 6 : 8. Even the
enormous debt of Great Britain might in this
manner soon be paid.
By means of such expedients, the coin of,
I believe, all nations, has been gradually reduced
more and more below its original value,
and the same nominal sum has been gradually
brought to contain a smaller and a smaller
quantity of silver.
Nations have sometimes, for the same purpose,
adulterated the standard of their coin;
that is, have mixed a greater quantity of alloy
in it. If in the pound weight of our silver
coin, for example, instead of eighteen penny-weight,
according to the present standard,
there were mixed eight ounces of alloy; a
pound sterling, or twenty shillings of such
coin, would be worth little more than six shillings
and eightpence of our present money.
The quantity of silver contained in six shillings
and eightpence of our present money,
would thus be raised very nearly to the denomination
of a pound sterling. The adulteration
of the standard has exactly the same effect
with what the French call an augmentation,
or a direct raising of the denomination of the
coin.
An augmentation, or a direct raising of the
denomination of the coin, always is, and from
its nature must be, an open and avowed operation.
By means of it, pieces of a smaller
weight and bulk are called by the same name,
which had before been given to pieces of a
greater weight and bulk. The adulteration
of the standard, on the contrary, has generally
been a concealed operation. By means of it,
pieces are issued from the mint, of the same
denomination, and, as nearly as could be contrived,
of the same weight, bulk, and appearance,
with pieces which had been current before
of much greater value. When king John
of France,[79] in order to pay his debts, adulterated
his coin, all the officers of his mint
were sworn to secrecy. Both operations are
unjust. But a simple augmentation is an injustice
of open violence; whereas an adulteration
is an injustice of treacherous fraud.
This latter operation, therefore, as soon as it
has been discovered, and it could never be
concealed very long, has always excited much
greater indignation than the former. The
coin, after any considerable augmentation, has
very seldom been brought back to its former
weight; but after the greatest adulterations, it
has almost always been brought back to its
former fineness. It has scarce ever happened,
that the fury and indignation of the people
could otherwise be appeased.
In the end of the reign of Henry VIII.,
and in the beginning of that of Edward VI.,
the English coin was not only raised in its
denomination, but adulterated in its standard.
The like frauds were practised in Scotland
during the minority of James VI. They
have occasionally been practised in most other
countries.
That the public revenue of Great Britain
can never be completely liberated, or even
that any considerable progress can ever be
made towards that liberation, while the surplus
of that revenue, or what is over and above
defraying the annual expense of the peace
establishment, is so very small, it seems altogether
in vain to expect. That liberation, it
is evident, can never be brought about, without
either some very considerable augmentation
of the public revenue, or some equally
considerable reduction of the public expense.
A more equal land tax, a more equal tax
upon the rent of houses, and such alterations
in the present system of customs and excise
as those which have been mentioned in the
foregoing chapter, might, perhaps, without
increasing the burden of the greater part of
the people, but only distributing the weight
of it more equally upon the whole, produce a
considerable augmentation of revenue. The
most sanguine projector, however, could scarce
flatter himself, that any augmentation of this
kind would be such as could give any reasonable
hopes, either of liberating the public revenue
altogether, or even of making such progress
towards that liberation in time of peace,
as either to prevent or to compensate the further
accumulation of the public debt in the
next war.
By extending the British system of taxation
to all the different provinces of the empire, inhabited
by people either of British or European
extraction, a much greater augmentation
of revenue might be expected. This, however,
could scarce, perhaps, be done, consistently
with the principles of the British constitution,
without admitting into the British
parliament, or, if you will, into the states-general
of the British empire, a fair and equal
representation of all those different provinces;
that of each province bearing the same proportion
to the produce of its taxes, as the representation
of Great Britain might bear to
the produce of the taxes levied upon Great
Britain. The private interest of many powerful
individuals, the confirmed prejudices of
great bodies of people, seem, indeed, at present,
to oppose to so great a change, such obstacles
as it may be very difficult, perhaps altogether
impossible, to surmount. Without,
however, pretending to determine whether
such a union be practicable or impracticable,
it may not, perhaps, be improper, in a speculative
work of this kind, to consider how far
the British system of taxation might be applicable
to all the different provinces of the empire;
what revenue might be expected from
it, if so applied; and in what manner a general
union of this kind might be likely to affect
the happiness and prosperity of the different
provinces comprehended within it. Such
a speculation, can, at worst, be regarded but
as a new Utopia, less amusing, certainly, but
no more useless and chimerical than the old
one.
The land tax, the stamp duties, and the
different duties of customs and excise, constitute
the four principal branches of the British
taxes.
Ireland is certainly as able, and our American
and West India plantations more able,
to pay a land tax, than Great Britain. Where
the landlord is subject neither to tythe nor
poor's rate, he must certainly be more able to
pay such a tax, than where he is subject to
both those other burdens. The tythe, where
there is no modus, and where it is levied in
kind, diminishes more what would otherwise
be the rent of the landlord, than a land tax
which really amounted to five shillings in the
pound. Such a tythe will be found, in most
cases, to amount to more than a fourth part
of the real rent of the land, or of what remains
after replacing completely the capital of the
farmer, together with his reasonable profit. If
all moduses and all impropriations were taken
away, the complete church tythe of Great Britain
and Ireland could not well be estimated
at less than six or seven millions. If there
was no tythe either in Great Britain or Ireland,
the landlords could afford to pay six or
seven millions additional land tax, without
being more burdened than a very great part
of them are at present. America pays no
tythe, and could, therefore, very well afford
to pay a land tax. The lands in America
and the West Indies, indeed, are, in general,
not tenanted nor leased out to farmers. They
could not, therefore, be assessed according to
any rent roll. But neither were the lands of
Great Britain, in the 4th of William and
Mary, assessed according to any rent roll, but
according to a very loose and inaccurate estimation.
The lands in America might be assessed
either in the same manner, or in according
to an equitable valuation, in consequence
of an accurate survey, like that which was
lately made in the Milanese, and in the dominions
of Austria, Prussia, and Sardinia.
Stamp duties, it is evident, might be levied
without any variation, in all countries where
the forms of law process, and the deeds by
which property, both real and personal, is
transferred, are the same, or nearly the same.
The extension of the custom-house laws of
Great Britain to Ireland and the plantations,
provided it was accompanied, as in justice it
ought to be, with an extension of the freedom
of trade, would be in the highest degree
advantageous to both. All the invidious restraints
which at present oppress the trade of
Ireland, the distinction between the enumerated
and non-enumerated commodities of America,
would be entirely at an end. The
countries north of Cape Finisterre would be
as open to every part of the produce of America,
as those south of that cape are to some
parts of that produce at present. The trade
between all the different parts of the British
empire would, in consequence of this uniformity
in the customs-house laws, be as free as
the coasting trade of Great Britain is at present.
The British empire would thus afford,
within itself, an immense internal market for
every part of the produce of all its different
provinces. So great an extension of market
would soon compensate, both to Ireland and
the plantations, all that they could suffer from
the increase of the duties of customs.
The excise is the only part of the British
system of taxation, which would require to
be varied in any respect, according as it was
applied to the different provinces of the empire.
It might be applied to Ireland without
any variation; the produce and consumption
of that kingdom being exactly of the
same nature with those of Great Britain. In
its application to America and the West Indies,
of which the produce and consumption
are so very different from those of Great Britain,
some modification might be necessary,
in the same manner as in its application to
the cyder and beer counties of England.
A fermented liquor, for example, which is
called beer, but which, as it is made of molasses,
bears very little resemblance to our
beer, makes a considerable part of the common
drink of the people in America. This
liquor, as it can be kept only for a few days,
cannot, like our beer, be prepared and stored
up for sale in great breweries, but every private
family must brew it for their own use,
in the same manner as they cook their victuals.
But to subject every private family to
the odious visits and examination of the tax-gatherers,
in the same manner as we subject
the keepers of alehouses and the brewers for
public sale, would be altogether inconsistent
with liberty. If, for the sake of equality, it
was thought necessary to lay a tax upon this
liquor, it might be taxed by taxing the material
of which it is made, either at the place of
manufacture, or, if the circumstances of the
trade rendered such an excise improper, by
laying a duty upon its importation into the
colony in which it was to be consumed. Besides
the duty of one penny a-gallon imposed
by the British parliament upon the importation
of molasses into America, there is a provincial
tax of this kind upon their importation
into Massachusetts Bay, in ships belonging
to any other colony, of eightpence the hogshead;
and another upon their importation
from the northern colonies into South Carolina,
of fivepence the gallon. Or, if neither
of these methods was found convenient, each
family might compound for its consumption
of this liquor, either according to the number
of persons of which it consisted, in the same
manner as private families compound for the
malt tax in England; or according to the
different ages and sexes of those persons, in
the same manner as several different taxes are
levied in Holland; or, nearly as Sir Matthew
Decker proposes, that all taxes upon consumable
commodities should be levied in England.
This mode of taxation, it has already
been observed, when applied to objects of a
speedy consumption, is not a very convenient
one. It might be adopted, however, in cases
where no better could be done.
Sugar, rum, and tobacco, are commodities
which are nowhere necessaries of life, which
are become objects of almost universal consumption,
and which are, therefore, extremely
proper subjects of taxation. If a union with
the colonies were to take place, those commodities
might be taxed, either before they
go out of the hands of the manufacturer or
grower; or, if this mode of taxation did not
suit the circumstances of those persons, they
might be deposited in public warehouses, both
at the place of manufacture, and at all the
different ports of the empire, to which they
might afterwards be transported, to remain
there, under the joint custody of the owner
and the revenue officer, till such time as they
should be delivered out, either to the consumer,
to the merchant-retailer for home consumption,
or to the merchant-exporter; the
tax not to be advanced till such delivery.
When delivered out for exportation, to go
duty-free, upon proper security being given,
that they should really be exported out of the
empire. These are, perhaps, the principal
commodities, with regard to which the union
with the colonies might require some considerable
change in the present system of British
taxation.
What might be the amount of the revenue
which this system of taxation, extended to all
the different provinces of the empire, might
produce, it must, no doubt, be altogether impossible
to ascertain with tolerable exactness.
By means of this system, there is annually
levied in Great Britain, upon less than eight
millions of people, more than ten millions of
revenue. Ireland contains more than two
millions of people, and, according to the accounts
laid before the congress, the twelve
associated provinces of America contain more
than three. Those accounts, however, may
have been exaggerated, in order, perhaps, either
to encourage their own people, or to intimidate
those of this country; and we shall
suppose, therefore, that our North American
and West Indian colonies, taken together, contain
no more than three millions; or that the
whole British empire, in Europe and America,
contains no more than thirteen millions
of inhabitants. If, upon less than eight millions
of inhabitants, this system of taxation
raises a revenue of more than ten millions
sterling; it ought, upon thirteen millions of
inhabitants, to raise a revenue of more than
sixteen millions two hundred and fifty thousand
pounds sterling. From this revenue,
supposing that this system could produce it,
must be deducted the revenue usually raised
in Ireland and the plantations, for defraying
the expense of the respective civil governments.
The expense of the civil and
military establishment of Ireland, together
with the interest of the public debt, amounts,
at a medium of the two years which ended
March 1775, to something less than seven
hundred and fifty thousand pounds a-year.
By a very exact account of the revenue
of the principal colonies of America and
the West Indies, it amounted, before the
commencement of the present disturbances,
to a hundred and forty-one thousand eight
hundred pounds. In this account, however,
the revenue of Maryland, of North Carolina,
and of all our late acquisitions, both upon
the continent, and in the islands, is omitted;
which may, perhaps, make a difference
of thirty or forty thousand pounds. For the
sake of even numbers, therefore, let us suppose
that the revenue necessary for supporting
the civil government of Ireland and the
plantations may amount to a million. There
would remain, consequently, a revenue of fifteen
millions two hundred and fifty thousand
pounds, to be applied towards defraying the
general expense of the empire, and towards
paying the public debt. But if, from the present
revenue of Great Britain, a million could,
in peaceable times, be spared towards the payment
of that debt, six millions two hundred
and fifty thousand pounds could very well be
spared from this improved revenue. This great
sinking fund, too, might be augmented every
year by the interest of the debt which had
been discharged the year before; and might,
in this manner, increase so very rapidly, as to
be sufficient in a few years to discharge the
whole debt, and thus to restore completely
the at-present debilitated and languishing vigour
of the empire. In the mean time, the
people might be relieved from some of the
most burdensome taxes; from those which
are imposed either upon the necessaries of life,
or upon the materials of manufacture. The
labouring poor would thus be enabled to live
better, to work cheaper, and to send their
goods cheaper to market. The cheapness of
their goods would increase the demand for
them, and consequently for the labour of those
who produced them. This increase in the
demand for labour would both increase the
numbers, and improve the circumstances of
the labouring poor. Their consumption would
increase, and, together with it, the revenue
arising from all those articles of their consumption
upon which the taxes might be allowed
to remain.
The revenue arising from this system of
taxation, however, might not immediately increase
in proportion to the number of people
who were subjected to it. Great indulgence
would for some time be due to those provinces
of the empire which were thus subjected
to burdens to which they had not before
been accustomed; and even when the
same taxes came to be levied everywhere as
exactly as possible, they would not everywhere
produce a revenue proportioned to the
numbers of the people. In a poor country,
the consumption of the principal commodities
subject to the duties of customs and excise, is
very small; and in a thinly inhabited country,
the opportunities of smuggling are very
great. The consumption of malt liquors among
the inferior ranks of people in Scotland
is very small; and the excise upon malt, beer,
and ale, produces less there than in England,
in proportion to the numbers of the people
and the rate of the duties, which upon malt
is different, on account of a supposed difference
of quality. In these particular branches
of the excise, there is not, I apprehend, much
more smuggling in the one country than in
the other. The duties upon the distillery, and
the greater part of the duties of customs, in
proportion to the numbers of people in the
respective countries, produce less in Scotland
than in England, not only on account of the
smaller consumption of the taxed commodities,
but of the much greater facility of smuggling.
In Ireland, the inferior ranks of people
are still poorer than in Scotland, and
many parts of the country are almost as thinly
inhabited. In Ireland, therefore, the consumption
of the taxed commodities might, in
proportion to the number of the people, be
still less than in Scotland, and the facility of
smuggling nearly the same. In America and
the West Indies, the white people, even of the
lowest rank, are in much better circumstances
than those of the same rank in England; and
their consumption of all the luxuries in which
they usually indulge themselves, is probably
much greater. The blacks, indeed, who make
the greater part of the inhabitants, both of the
southern colonies upon the continent and of
the West India islands, as they are in a state
of slavery, are, no doubt, in a worse condition
than the poorest people either in Scotland
or Ireland. We must not, however, upon
that account, imagine that they are worse
fed, or that their consumption of articles which
might be subjected to moderate duties, is less
than that even of the lower ranks of people
in England. In order that they may work
well, it is the interest of their master that
they should be fed well, and kept in good
heart, in the same manner as it is his interest
that his working cattle should be so. The
blacks, accordingly, have almost everywhere
their allowance of rum, and of molasses or
spruce-beer, in the same manner as the white
servants; and this allowance would not probably
be withdrawn, though those articles
should be subjected to moderate duties. The
consumption of the taxed commodities, therefore,
in proportion to the number of inhabitants,
would probably be as great in America
and the West Indies as in any part of the British
empire. The opportunities of smuggling,
indeed, would be much greater; America, in
proportion to the extent of the country, being
much more thinly inhabited than either
Scotland or Ireland. If the revenue, however,
which is at present raised by the different
duties upon malt and malt liquors, were
to be levied by a single duty upon malt, the
opportunity of smuggling in the most important
branch of the excise would be almost
entirely taken away; and if the duties of customs,
instead of being imposed upon almost
all the different articles of importation, were
confined to a few of the most general use and
consumption, and if the levying of those duties
were subjected to the excise laws, the
opportunity of smuggling, though not so entirely
taken away, would be very much diminished.
In consequence of those two apparently
very simple and easy alterations, the
duties of customs and excise might probably
produce a revenue as great, in proportion to
the consumption of the most thinly inhabited
province, as they do at present, in proportion
to that of the most populous.
The Americans, it has been said, indeed,
have no gold or silver money, the interior
commerce of the country being carried on by
a paper currency; and the gold and silver,
which occasionally come among them, being
all sent to Great Britain, in return for the
commodities which they receive from us. But
without gold and silver, it is added, there is
no possibility of paying taxes. We already
get all the gold and silver which they have.
How is it possible to draw from them what
they have not?
The present scarcity of gold and silver money
in America, is not the effect of the poverty
of that country, or of the inability of the people
there to purchase those metals. In a
country where the wages of labour are so much
higher, and the price of provisions so much
lower than in England, the greater part of
the people must surely have wherewithal to
purchase a greater quantity, if it were either
necessary or convenient for them to do so.
The scarcity of those metals, therefore, must
be the effect of choice, and not of necessity.
It is for transacting either domestic or foreign
business, that gold or silver money is
either necessary or convenient.
The domestic business of every country, it
has been shewn in the second book of this Inquiry,
may, at least in peaceable times, be
transacted by means of a paper currency, with
nearly the same degree of conveniency as by
gold and silver money. It is convenient for
the Americans, who could always employ with
profit, in the improvement of their lands, a
greater stock than they can easily get, to save
as much as possible the expense of so costly
an instrument of commerce as gold and silver;
and rather to employ that part of their
surplus produce which would be necessary for
purchasing those metals, in purchasing the instruments
of trade, the materials of clothing,
several parts of household furniture, and the
iron work necessary for building and extending
their settlements and plantations; in purchasing
not dead stock, but active and productive
stock. The colony governments find
it for their interest to supply the people with
such a quantity of paper money as is fully
sufficient, and generally more than sufficient,
for transacting their domestic business. Some
of those governments, that of Pennsylvania,
particularly, derive a revenue from lending
this paper money to their subjects, at an interest
of so much per cent. Others, like that
of Massachusetts Bay, advance, upon extraordinary
emergencies, a paper money of this
kind for defraying the public expense; and
afterwards, when it suits the conveniency of
the colony, redeem it at the depreciated value
to which it gradually falls. In 1747,[80] that
colony paid in this manner the greater part of
its public debts, with the tenth part of the
money for which its bills had been granted.
It suits the conveniency of the planters, to
save the expense of employing gold and silver
money in their domestic transactions; and it
suits the conveniency of the colony governments,
to supply them with a medium, which,
though attended with some very considerable
disadvantages, enables them to save that expense.
The redundancy of paper money necessarily
banishes gold and silver from the
domestic transactions of the colonies, for the
same reason that it has banished those metals
from the greater part of the domestic transactions
in Scotland; and in both countries, it is
not the poverty, but the enterprizing and projecting
spirit of the people, their desire of
employing all the stock which they can get,
as active and productive stock, which has occasioned
this redundancy of paper money.
In the exterior commerce which the different
colonies carry on with Great Britain, gold
and silver are more or less employed, exactly
in proportion as they are more or less necessary.
Where those metals are not necessary,
they seldom appear. Where they are necessary,
they are generally found.
In the commerce between Great Britain and
the tobacco colonies, the British goods are
generally advanced to the colonists at a pretty
long credit, and are afterwards paid for in tobacco,
rated at a certain price. It is more
convenient for the colonists to pay in tobacco
than in gold and silver. It would be more
convenient for any merchant to pay for the
goods which his correspondents had sold to
him, in some other sort of goods which he
might happen to deal in, than in money. Such
a merchant would have no occasion to keep
any part of his stock by him unemployed, and
in ready money, for answering occasional demands.
He could have, at all times, a larger
quantity of goods in his shop or warehouse,
and he could deal to a greater extent. But
it seldom happens to be convenient for all the
correspondents of a merchant to receive payment
for the goods which they sell to him, in
goods of some other kind which he happens
to deal in. The British merchants who trade
to Virginia and Maryland, happen to be a
particular set of correspondents, to whom it is
more convenient to receive payment for the
goods which they sell to those colonies in tobacco,
than in gold and silver. They expect to
make a profit by the sale of the tobacco; they
could make none by that of the gold and silver.
Gold and silver, therefore, very seldom
appear in the commerce between Great Britain
and the tobacco colonies. Maryland and
Virginia have as little occasion for those metals
in their foreign, as in their domestic commerce.
They are said, accordingly, to have
less gold and silver money than any other colonies
in America. They are reckoned, however,
as thriving, and consequently as rich, as
any of their neighbours.
In the northern colonies, Pennsylvania, New
York, New Jersey, the four governments of
New England, &c. the value of their own
produce which they export to Great Britain
is not equal to that of the manufactures which
they import for their own use, and for that of
some of the other colonies, to which they are
the carriers. A balance, therefore, must be
paid to the mother-country in gold and silver,
and this balance they generally find.
In the sugar colonies, the value of the produce
annually exported to Great Britain is
much greater than that of all the goods imported
from thence. If the sugar and rum
annually sent to the mother-country were paid
for in those colonies, Great Britain would be
obliged to send out, every year, a very large
balance in money; and the trade to the West
Indies would, by a certain species of politicians,
be considered as extremely disadvantageous.
But it so happens, that many of the
principal proprietors of the sugar plantations
reside in Great Britain. Their rents are remitted
to them in sugar and rum, the produce
of their estates. The sugar and rum which
the West India merchants purchase in those
colonies upon their own account, are not equal
in value to the goods which they annually sell
there. A balance, therefore, must necessarily
he paid to them in gold and silver, and this
balance, too, is generally found.
The difficulty and irregularity of payment
from the different colonies to Great Britain,
have not been at all in proportion to the greatness
or smallness of the balances which were
respectively due from them. Payments have,
in general, been more regular from the northern
than from the tobacco colonies, though
the former have generally paid a pretty large
balance in money, while the latter have either
paid no balance, or a much smaller one. The
difficulty of getting payment from our different
sugar colonies has been greater or less
in proportion, not so much to the extent of
the balances respectively due from them, as to
the quantity of uncultivated land which they
contained; that is, to the greater or smaller
temptation which the planters have been under
of over-trading, or of undertaking the
settlement and plantation of greater quantities
of waste land than suited the extent of their
capitals. The returns from the great island
of Jamaica, where there is still much uncultivated
land, have, upon this account, been, in
general, more irregular and uncertain than
those from the smaller islands of Barbadoes,
Antigua, and St. Christopher's, which have,
for these many years, been completely cultivated,
and have, upon that account, afforded
less field for the speculations of the planter.
The new acquisitions of Grenada, Tobago,
St. Vincent's, and Dominica, have opened a
new field for speculations of this kind; and
the returns from those islands have of late been
as irregular and uncertain as those from the
great island of Jamaica.
It is not, therefore, the poverty of the colonies
which occasions, in the greater part of
them, the present scarcity of gold and silver
money. Their great demand for active and
productive stock makes it convenient for them
to have as little dead stock as possible, and
disposes them, upon that account, to content
themselves with a cheaper, though less commodious
instrument of commerce, than gold
and silver. They are thereby enabled to convert
the value of that gold and silver into the
instruments of trade, into the materials of clothing,
into household furniture, and into the
iron work necessary for building and extending
their settlements and plantations. In
those branches of business which cannot be
transacted without gold and silver money, it
appears, that they can always find the necessary
quantity of those metals; and if they
frequently do not find it, their failure is generally
the effect, not of their necessary poverty,
but of their unnecessary and excessive
enterprise. It is not because they are poor
that their payments are irregular and uncertain,
but because they are too eager to become
excessively rich. Though all that part of the
produce of the colony taxes, which was over
and above what was necessary for defraying
the expense of their own civil and military
establishments, were to be remitted to Great
Britain in gold and silver, the colonies have
abundantly wherewithal to purchase the requisite
quantity of those metals. They would
in this case be obliged, indeed, to exchange a
part of their surplus produce, with which they
now purchase active and productive stock, for
dead stock. In transacting their domestic
business, they would be obliged to employ a
costly, instead of a cheap instrument of commerce;
and the expense of purchasing this
costly instrument might damp somewhat the
vivacity and ardour of their excessive enterprise
in the improvement of land. It might
not, however, be necessary to remit any part
of the American revenue in gold and silver.
It might be remitted in bills drawn upon, and
accepted by, particular merchants or companies
in Great Britain, to whom a part of the
surplus produce of America had been consigned,
who would pay into the treasury the
American revenue in money, after having
themselves received the value of it in goods;
and the whole business might frequently be
transacted without exporting a single ounce
of gold or silver from America.
It is not contrary to justice, that both Ireland
and America should contribute towards
the discharge of the public debt of Great Britain.
That debt has been contracted in support
of the government established by the Revolution;
a government to which the protestants
of Ireland owe, not only the whole authority
which they at present enjoy in their
own country, but every security which they
possess for their liberty, their property, and
their religion; a government to which several
of the colonies of America owe their present
charters, and consequently their present constitution;
and to which all the colonies of
America owe the liberty, security, and property,
which they have ever since enjoyed.
That public debt has been contracted in the
defence, not of Great Britain alone, but of
all the different provinces of the empire. The
immense debt contracted in the late war in
particular, and a great part of that contracted
in the war before, were both properly contracted
in defence of America.
By a union with Great Britain, Ireland
would gain, besides the freedom of trade,
other advantages much more important, and
which would much more than compensate any
increase of taxes that might accompany that
union. By the union with England, the
middling and inferior ranks of people in Scotland
gained a complete deliverance from the
power of an aristocracy, which had always before
oppressed them. By a union with Great
Britain, the greater part of people of all ranks
in Ireland would gain an equally complete
deliverance from a much more oppressive aristocracy;
an aristocracy not founded, like that
of Scotland, in the natural and respectable distinctions
of birth and fortune, but in the most
odious of all distinctions, those of religious and
political prejudices; distinctions which, more
than any other, animate both the insolence of
the oppressors, and the hatred and indignation
of the oppressed, and which commonly render
the inhabitants of the same country more hostile
to one another than those of different
countries ever are. Without a union with
Great Britain, the inhabitants of Ireland are
not likely, for many ages, to consider themselves
as one people.
No oppressive aristocracy has ever prevailed
in the colonies. Even they, however, would,
in point of happiness and tranquillity, gain
considerably by a union with Great Britain.
It would, at least, deliver them from those
rancourous and virulent factions which are
inseparable from small democracies, and which
have so frequently divided the affections of
their people, and disturbed the tranquillity of
their governments, in their form so nearly
democratical. In the case of a total separation
from Great Britain, which, unless prevented
by a union of this kind, seems very
likely to take place, those factions would be
ten times more virulent than ever. Before
the commencement of the present disturbances,
the coercive power of the mother-country had
always been able to restrain those factions
from breaking out into any thing worse than
gross brutality and insult. If that coercive
power were entirely taken away, they would
probably soon break out into open violence
and bloodshed. In all great countries which
are united under one uniform government, the
spirit of party commonly prevails less in the
remote provinces than in the centre of the empire.
The distance of those provinces from
the capital, from the principal seat of the great
scramble of faction and ambition, makes them
enter less into the views of any of the contending
parties, and renders them more indifferent
and impartial spectators of the conduct of all.
The spirit of party prevails less in Scotland than
in England. In the case of a union, it would
probably prevail less in Ireland than in Scotland;
and the colonies would probably soon
enjoy a degree of concord and unanimity, at
present unknown in any part of the British
empire. Both Ireland and the colonies, indeed,
would be subjected to heavier taxes than
any which they at present pay. In consequence,
however, of a diligent and faithful
application of the public revenue towards the
discharge of the national debt, the greater
part of those taxes might not be of long continuance,
and the public revenue of Great
Britain might soon be reduced to what was
necessary for maintaining a moderate peace-establishment.
The territorial acquisitions of the East-India
Company, the undoubted right of the
Crown, that is, of the state and people of
Great Britain, might be rendered another
source of revenue, more abundant, perhaps,
than all those already mentioned. Those
countries are represented as more fertile, more
extensive, and, in proportion to their extent,
much richer and more populous than Great
Britain. In order to draw a great revenue
from them, it would not probably be necessary
to introduce any new system of taxation
into countries which are already sufficiently,
and more than sufficiently, taxed. It might,
perhaps, be more proper to lighten than to aggravate
the burden of those unfortunate countries,
and to endeavour to draw a revenue from
them, not by imposing new taxes, but by preventing
the embezzlement and misapplication
of the greater part of those which they already
pay.
If it should be found impracticable for
Great Britain to draw any considerable augmentation
of revenue from any of the resources
above mentioned, the only resource which
can remain to her, is a diminution of her expense.
In the mode of collecting and in that
of expending the public revenue, though in
both there may be still room for improvement,
Great Britain seems to be at least as economical
as any of her neighbours. The military
establishment which she maintains for her
own defence in time of peace, is more moderate
than that of any European state, which
can pretend to rival her either in wealth
or in power. None of those articles, therefore,
seem to admit of any considerable reduction
of expense. The expense of the
peace-establishment of the colonies was, before
the commencement of the present disturbances,
very considerable, and is an expense which
may, and, if no revenue can be drawn from
them, ought certainly to be saved altogether.
This constant expense in time of peace, though
very great, is insignificant in comparison with
what the defence of the colonies has cost us
in time of war. The last war, which was undertaken
altogether on account of the colonies,
cost Great Britain, it has already been observed,
upwards of ninety millions. The Spanish
war of 1739 was principally undertaken on
their account; in which, and in the French
war that was the consequence of it, Great Britain,
spent upwards of forty millions; a great
part of which ought justly to be charged to
the colonies. In those two wars, the colonies
cost Great Britain much more than double the
sum which the national debt amounted to before
the commencement of the first of them.
Had it not been for those wars, that debt
might, and probably would by this time, have
been completely paid; and had it not been
for the colonies, the former of those wars
might not, and the latter certainly would not,
have been undertaken. It was because the
colonies were supposed to be provinces of the
British Empire, that this expense was laid out
upon them. But countries which contribute
neither revenue nor military force towards the
support of the empire, cannot be considered as
provinces. They may, perhaps, be considered
as appendages, as a sort of splendid and
shewy equipage of the empire. But if the
empire can no longer support the expense of
keeping up this equipage, it ought certainly to
lay it down; and if it cannot raise its revenue
in proportion to its expense, it ought at least
to accommodate its expense to its revenue. If
the colonies, notwithstanding their refusal to
submit to British taxes, are still to be considered
as provinces of the British empire,
their defence, in some future war, may cost
Great Britain as great an expense as it ever
has done in any former war. The rulers of
Great Britain have, for more than a century
past, amused the people with the imagination
that they possessed a great empire on the west
side of the Atlantic. This empire, however,
has hitherto existed in imagination only. It
has hitherto been, not an empire, but the project
of an empire; not a gold mine, but the
project of a gold mine; a project which has
cost, which continues to cost, and which, if pursued
in the same way as it has been hitherto, is
likely to cost, immense expense, without being
likely to bring any profit; for the effects of the
monopoly of the colony trade, it has been shewn,
are to the great body of the people, mere loss
instead of profit. It is surely now time that
our rulers should either realize this golden
dream, in which they have been indulging
themselves, perhaps, as well as the people; or
that they should awake from it themselves,
and endeavour to awaken the people. If the
project cannot be completed, it ought to be
given up. If any of the provinces of the
British empire cannot be made to contribute
towards the support of the whole empire, it is
surely time that Great Britain should free
herself from the expense of defending those
provinces in time of war, and of supporting
any part of their civil or military establishments
in time of peace; and endeavour to accommodate
her future views and designs to
the real mediocrity of her circumstances.