CHAPTER I.

ROBINSON CRUSOE'S MONEY;

Or, the

Remarkable Financial Fortunes and Misfortunes

of a Remote Island Community.

By

DAVID A. WELLS,

Late U. S. Special Commissioner of Revenue.

"It requires a great deal of

philosophy to observe once

what may be seen every day."

--Rousseau.

New York:

Harper & Brothers, Publishers,

Franklin Square.

1876.

PREFACE.

The origin of this little book is as follows: Some months ago, the

expediency was suggested to the author, by certain prominent friends

of hard money in this country, of preparing for popular reading--and

possibly for political campaign purposes--a little tract, or essay,

in which the elementary principles underlying the important subjects

of money and currency should be presented and illustrated from the

simplest A B C stand-point. That such a work was desirable, and that

none of the very great number of speeches and essays already published

on these topics in all respects answered the existing requirement,

was admitted; but how to invest subjects, so often discussed, and so

commonly regarded as dry and abstract, with sufficient new interest

to render them at once attractive and intelligible to those whose

tastes disincline them to close reasoning and investigation, was a

matter not easy to determine.

At last the old idea--recognized in fables, allegories, and

parables--of making a story the medium for communicating instruction,

suggested itself; and, in accordance with the suggestion, a remote

island community has been imagined, in which, starting from conditions

but one remove from barbarism, but gradually rising to a high

degree of civilization, the progress, the use, and the abuse of the

instrumentalities and mechanism of exchange--through barter, money,

and currency--have been traced consecutively; and the effect of the

application of not a few of the most popular fiscal recommendations

and theories of the day practically worked out and recorded. And,

in carrying out this scheme, the reader will not fail to perceive, by

reference to the marginal notes accompanying the text, that hardly an

absurdity in reference to exchange, money, or currency can be imagined,

which somewhere and at some time has not had its exact counterpart

in actual history or experience.

If any apology for the objects designed or the course pursued is

needed, the author thinks he finds it in the precedent established

by the illustrious Geoffrey Crayon, Gent., who, in the introduction

to his "Tales of a Traveler," thus happily sets forth the special

advantage which accrues from the proper employment of a story as a

means of communicating information. "I am not," he says, "for those

barefaced tales which carry their moral on their surface, staring one

in the face; on the contrary, I have often hid my moral from sight,

and disguised it as much as possible by sweets and spices; so that

while the simple reader is listening with open mouth to a ghost or

love story, he may have a bolus of sound morality popped down his

throat, and be never the wiser for the fraud."

Whether in "Robinson Crusoe's Money" the author shall succeed in

inducing his fellow-countrymen--to whom the ordinary currency medicine

is becoming distasteful--to swallow without wry faces the same dose

sugar-coated, remains to be determined.

Norwich, Conn., January, 1876.

CONTENTS.

Chapter I. Page

The Three Great Bags of Money 11

Chapter II.

A New Social Order of Things 13

Chapter III.

The Period of Barter 15

Chapter IV.

How They Invented Money 20

Chapter V.

How the People on the Island and Elsewhere Learned Wisdom 26

Chapter VI.

Gold, and How they Came to Use It 33

Chapter VII.

How the Islanders Determined to be an Honest and Free People 50

Chapter VIII.

How the People on the Island Came to Use Currency in the Place of

Money 55

Chapter IX.

War with the Cannibals, and What Came of It 60

Chapter X.

After the War 72

Chapter XI.

The New Millennium 83

Chapter XII.

Getting Sober 108

ROBINSON CRUSOE'S MONEY.

CHAPTER I.

THE THREE GREAT BAGS OF MONEY.

All who have read "Robinson Crusoe" (and who has not?) will remember

the circumstance of his opening, some time after he had become

domiciled on his desolate island, one of the chests that had come

to him from the ship. In it he found pins, needles and thread, a

pair of large scissors, "ten or a dozen good knives," some cloth,

about a dozen and a half of white linen handkerchiefs concerning

which he remarks, "They were exceedingly refreshing to wipe my face

on a warm day;" and, finally, hidden away in the till of the chest,

"three great bags of money--gold as well as silver."

The finding of all these articles--the money excepted--it will be

further remembered, greatly delighted the heart of Crusoe; inasmuch

as they increased his store of useful things, and therefore increased

his comfort and happiness. But in respect to the money the case was

entirely different. It was a thing to him, under the circumstances,

absolutely worthless, and over its presence and finding he soliloquized

as follows: "I smiled at myself at the sight of all this money. 'Oh,

drug!' said I, aloud, 'what art thou good for? Thou art not worth to

me, no, not the taking off the ground. One of these knives is worth

all this heap. Nay, I would give it all for a gross of tobacco-pipes;

for sixpenny-worth of turnip and carrot seed from England; or for a

handful of pease and beans, and a bottle of ink.'"

In introducing this episode in the life of his hero, nothing was

probably further from the thought of the author, De Foe, than the

intent to give his readers a lesson in political economy. And yet it

would be difficult to find an illustration which conveys in so simple

a manner to him who reflects upon it so much of information in respect

to the nature of that which is popularly termed "wealth;" or so good

a basis for reasoning correctly in respect to the origin and function

of that which we call "money." And in such reasoning, the truth of

the following propositions is too evident to require demonstration:

1st. The pins and needles, the scissors, knives, and cloth were of

great utility to Robinson Crusoe, because their possession satisfied

a great desire on his part to have them, and greatly increased his

comfort and happiness.

2d. Possessing utility, they nevertheless possessed no exchangeable

value, because they could not be bought or sold, or, what is the same

thing, exchanged with any body for any thing.

3d. They had, moreover, no price, for they had no purchasing power

which could be expressed as money.

4th. The money, which is popularly regarded as the symbol and the

concentration of all wealth, had, under the circumstances, neither

utility, value, nor price. It could not be eaten, drunk, worn, used as

a tool, or exchanged with any body for any thing, and fully merited

the appellation which Crusoe in another place gives it, of "sorry,

worthless stuff."

Finally, the pins, needles, knives, cloth, and scissors were all

capital to Robinson Crusoe, because they were all instrumentalities

capable of being used to produce something additional, to him useful

or desirable. The money was not capital, under the circumstances,

because it could not be used to produce any thing.

Starting, then, with a condition of things on the island in which

money had clearly neither utility nor value, let us next consider

under what change of domestic circumstances it could become useful,

acquire value, become an object of exchange, and constitute a standard

for establishing prices.

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