manufacturers. The former are employed in the culture of the land;
the latter work up the materials furnished by the former, into all
the commodities which are necessary and ornamental to human life.
As soon as men quit their savage state, where they live chiefly by
hunting and fishing, they must fall into these two classes; though
the arts of agriculture employ at first the most numerous part of the
society.[7] Time and experience improve so much these arts, that the
land may easily maintain a much greater number of men than those who
are immediately employed in its cultivation, or who furnish the
more necessary manufactures to such as are so employed.
If these superfluous hands apply themselves to the finer arts, which
are commonly denominated the arts of luxury, they add to the happiness
of the state, since they afford to many the opportunity of receiving
enjoyments with which they would otherwise have been unacquainted.
But may not another scheme be proposed for the employment of these
superfluous hands? May not the sovereign lay claim to them, and
employ them in fleets and armies, to increase the dominions of the
state abroad, and spread its fame over distant nations? It is certain
that the fewer desires and wants are found in the proprietors and
labourers of land, the fewer hands do they employ; and consequently
the superfluities of the land, instead of maintaining tradesmen and
manufacturers, may support fleets and armies to a much greater extent
than where a great many arts are required to minister to the luxury of
particular persons. Here therefore seems to be a kind of opposition
between the greatness of the state and the happiness of the subjects. A
state is never greater than when all its superfluous hands are employed
in the service of the public. The ease and convenience of private
persons require that these hands should be employed in their service.
The one can never be satisfied but at the expense of the other. As the
ambition of the sovereign must entrench on the luxury of individuals,
so the luxury of individuals must diminish the force and check the
ambition of the sovereign.
Nor is this reasoning merely chimerical, but is founded on history and
experience. The republic of Sparta was certainly more powerful than any
state now in the world, consisting of an equal number of people, and
this was owing entirely to the want of commerce and luxury. The Helotes
were the labourers: the Spartans were the soldiers or gentlemen. It is
evident that the labour of the Helotes could not have maintained so
great a number of Spartans, had these latter lived in ease and delicacy
and given employment to a great variety of trades and manufactures.
The like policy may be remarked in Rome. And indeed, through all
ancient history, it is observable that the smallest republics raised
and maintained greater armies than states consisting of triple the
number of inhabitants are able to support at present. It is computed
that in all European nations the proportion between soldiers and
people does not exceed one to a hundred. But we read that the city of
Rome alone, with its small territory, raised and maintained, in early
times, ten legions against the Latins. Athens, whose whole dominions
were not larger than Yorkshire, sent to the expedition against Sicily
near forty thousand men. Dionysius the elder, it is said, maintained
a standing army of a hundred thousand foot and ten thousand horse,
besides a large fleet of four hundred sail,[8] though his territories
extended no farther than the city of Syracuse, about a third part
of the island of Sicily, and some seaport towns or garrisons on the
coast of Italy and Illyricum. It is true the ancient armies, in time
of war, subsisted much upon plunder; but did not the enemy plunder in
their turn? which was a more ruinous way of levying tax than any other
that could be devised. In short, no probable reason can be assigned
for the great power of the more ancient states above the modern but
their want of commerce and luxury. Few artisans were maintained by the
labour of the farmers, and therefore more soldiers might live upon it.
Titus Livius says that Rome, in his time, would find it difficult to
raise as large an army as that which, in her early days, she sent out
against the Gauls and Latins. Instead of those soldiers who fought for
liberty and empire in Camillus’s time, there were in Augustus’s days
musicians, painters, cooks, players, and tailors; and if the land was
equally cultivated at both periods, it is evident it could maintain
equal numbers in the one profession as in the other. They added nothing
to the mere necessaries of life in the latter period more than in the
former.
It is natural on this occasion to ask whether sovereigns may not return
to the maxims of ancient policy, and consult their own interest in
this respect more than the happiness of their subjects. I answer that
it appears to me almost impossible; and that because ancient policy
was violent, and contrary to the more natural and usual course of
things. It is well known with what peculiar laws Sparta was governed,
and what a prodigy that republic is justly esteemed by every one who
has considered human nature, as it has displayed itself in other
nations and other ages. Were the testimony of history less positive and
circumstantial, such a government would appear a mere philosophical
whim or fiction, and impossible ever to be reduced to practice.
And though the Roman and other ancient republics were supported on
principles somewhat more natural, yet was there a very extraordinary
concurrence of circumstances to make them submit to such grievous
burdens. They were free states; they were small ones; and the age
being martial, all the neighbouring states were continually in arms.
Freedom naturally begets public spirit, especially in small states; and
this public spirit, this _amor patriæ_, must increase when the public
is almost in continual alarm, and men are obliged every moment to
expose themselves to the greatest dangers for its defence. A continual
succession of wars makes every citizen a soldier: he takes the field
in his turn, and during his service is chiefly maintained by himself.
And notwithstanding that his service is equivalent to a very severe
tax, it is less felt by a people addicted to arms, who fight for honour
and revenge more than pay, and are unacquainted with gain and industry
as well as pleasure.[9] Not to mention the great equality of
fortunes amongst the inhabitants of the ancient republics, where every
field belonging to a different proprietor was able to maintain a
family, and rendered the numbers of citizens very considerable, even
without trade and manufactures.
But though the want of trade and manufactures, amongst a free and very
martial people, may sometimes have no other effect than to render the
public more powerful, it is certain that, in the common course of human
affairs, it will have a quite contrary tendency. Sovereigns must take
mankind as they find them, and cannot pretend to introduce any violent
change in their principles and ways of thinking. A long course of time,
with a variety of accidents and circumstances, is requisite to produce
those great revolutions which so much diversify the face of human
affairs. And the less natural any set of principles are which support
a particular society, the more difficulty will a legislator meet with
in raising and cultivating them. It is his best policy to comply with
the common bent of mankind, and give it all the improvements of which
it is susceptible. Now, according to the most natural course of things,
industry, and arts, and trade increase the power of the sovereign as
well as the happiness of the subjects; and that policy is violent
which aggrandizes the public by the poverty of individuals. This will
easily appear from a few considerations, which will present to us the
consequences of sloth and barbarity.
Where manufactures and mechanic arts are not cultivated, the bulk of
the people must apply themselves to agriculture; and if their skill
and industry increase, there must arise a great superfluity
from their labour beyond what suffices to maintain them. They have no
temptation, therefore, to increase their skill and industry; since they
cannot exchange that superfluity for any commodities which may serve
either to their pleasure or vanity. A habit of indolence naturally
prevails. The greater part of the land lies uncultivated. What is
cultivated yields not its utmost, for want of skill or assiduity in
the farmer. If at any time the public exigencies require that great
numbers should be employed in the public service, the labour of the
people furnishes now no superfluities by which these numbers can be
maintained. The labourers cannot increase their skill and industry on
a sudden. Lands uncultivated cannot be brought into tillage for some
years. The armies, meanwhile, must either make sudden and violent
conquests, or disband for want of subsistence. A regular attack or
defence, therefore, is not to be expected from such a people, and
their soldiers must be as ignorant and unskilful as their farmers and
manufacturers.
Everything in the world is purchased by labour, and our passions are
the only causes of labour. When a nation abounds in manufactures and
mechanic arts, the proprietors of land, as well as the farmers, study
agriculture as a science, and redouble their industry and attention.
The superfluity which arises from their labour is not lost, but is
exchanged with the manufacturers for those commodities which men’s
luxury now makes them covet. By this means land furnishes a great
deal more of the necessaries of life than what suffices for those who
cultivate it. In times of peace and tranquillity this superfluity goes
to the maintenance of manufacturers, and the improvers of liberal arts.
But it is easy for the public to convert many of these manufacturers
into soldiers, and maintain them by that superfluity which arises from
the labour of the farmers. Accordingly we find that this is the case
in all civilized governments. When the sovereign raises an army, what
is the consequence? He imposes a tax. This tax obliges all the people
to retrench what is least necessary to their subsistence. Those
who labour in such commodities must either enlist in the troops or
turn themselves to agriculture, and thereby oblige some labourers to
enlist for want of business. And to consider the matter abstractly,
manufactures increase the power of the state only as they store up so
much labour, and that of a kind to which the public may lay claim,
without depriving any one of the necessaries of life. The more labour,
therefore, is employed beyond mere necessaries, the more powerful is
any state; since the persons engaged in that labour may easily be
converted to the public service. In a state without manufactures there
may be the same number of hands; but there is not the same quantity of
labour, nor of the same kind. All the labour is there bestowed upon
necessaries, which can admit of little or no abatement.
Thus the greatness of the sovereign and the happiness of the state
are, in a great measure, united with regard to trade and manufactures.
It is a violent method, and in most cases impracticable, to oblige
the labourer to toil in order to raise from the land more than what
subsists himself and family. Furnish him with manufactures and
commodities, and he will do it of himself. Afterwards you will find it
easy to seize some part of his superfluous labour, and employ it in the
public service, without giving him his wonted return. Being accustomed
to industry, he will think this less grievous than if, at once, you
obliged him to an augmentation of labour without any reward. The case
is the same with regard to the other members of the state. The greater
is the stock of labour of all kinds, the greater quantity may be taken
from the heap without making any sensible alteration upon it.
A public granary of corn, a storehouse of cloth, a magazine of arms;
all these must be allowed real riches and strength in any state. Trade
and industry are really nothing but a stock of labour, which, in time
of peace and tranquillity, is employed for the ease and satisfaction of
individuals; but in the exigencies of state, may, in part, be turned
to public advantage. Could we convert a city into a kind of fortified
camp, and infuse into each breast so martial a genius, and such
a passion for public good, as to make every one willing to undergo the
greatest hardships for the sake of the public, these affections might
now, as in ancient times, prove alone a sufficient spur to industry,
and support the community. It would then be advantageous, as in camps,
to banish all arts and luxury; and, by restrictions on equipage and
tables, make the provisions and forage last longer than if the army
were loaded with a number of superfluous retainers. But as these
principles are too disinterested and too difficult to support, it is
requisite to govern men by other passions, and animate them with a
spirit of avarice and industry, art and luxury. The camp is, in this
case, loaded with a superfluous retinue; but the provisions flow in
proportionately larger. The harmony of the whole is still supported,
and the natural bent of the mind being more complied with, individuals,
as well as the public, find their account in the observance of those
maxims.
The same method of reasoning will let us see the advantage of foreign
commerce, in augmenting the power of the state, as well as the riches
and happiness of the subjects. It increases the stock of labour in
the nation, and the sovereign may convert what share of it he finds
necessary to the service of the public. Foreign trade, by its imports,
furnishes materials for new manufactures; and by its exports, it
produces labour in particular commodities which could not be consumed
at home. In short, a kingdom that has a large import and export
must abound more with industry, and that employed upon delicacies
and luxuries, than a kingdom which rests contented with its native
commodities. It is, therefore, more powerful, as well as richer and
happier. The individuals reap the benefit of these commodities, so far
as they gratify the senses and appetites. And the public is also a
gainer, while a greater stock of labour is, by this means, stored up
against any public exigency; that is, a greater number of laborious
men are maintained, who may be diverted to the public service
without robbing any one of the necessaries or even the chief
conveniences of life.
If we consult history, we shall find that in most nations foreign trade
has preceded any refinement in home manufactures, and given birth to
domestic luxury. The temptation is stronger to make use of foreign
commodities, which are ready for use, and which are entirely new to
us, than to make improvements on any domestic commodity, which always
advance by slow degrees, and never affect us by their novelty. The
profit is also very great in exporting what is superfluous at home,
and what bears no price, to foreign nations, whose soil or climate is
not favourable to that commodity. Thus men become acquainted with the
pleasures of luxury and the profits of commerce; and their delicacy
and industry, being once awakened, carry them to farther improvements
in every branch of domestic as well as foreign trade. And this perhaps
is the chief advantage which arises from a commerce with strangers.
It rouses men from their indolence; and presenting the gayer and more
opulent part of the nation with objects of luxury, which they never
before dreamed of, raises in them a desire of a more splendid way of
life than what their ancestors enjoyed; and at the same time the few
merchants who possess the secret of this importation and exportation
make exorbitant profits, and becoming rivals in wealth to the ancient
nobility, tempt other adventurers to become their rivals in commerce.
Imitation soon diffuses all those arts; while domestic manufacturers
emulate the foreign in their improvements, and work up every home
commodity to the utmost perfection of which it is susceptible. Their
own steel and iron, in such laborious hands, becomes equal to the gold
and rubies of the Indies.
When the affairs of the society are once brought to this situation, a
nation may lose most of its foreign trade, and yet continue a great and
powerful people. If strangers will not take any particular commodity
of ours, we must cease to labour in it. The same hands will turn
themselves towards some refinement in other commodities which may be
wanted at home. And there must always be materials for them to
work upon; till every person in the state, who possesses riches, enjoys
as great plenty of home commodities, and those in as great perfection,
as he desires; which can never possibly happen. China is represented as
one of the most flourishing empires in the world, though it has very
little commerce beyond its own territories.
It will not, I hope, be considered as a superfluous digression, if I
here observe, that as the multitude of mechanical arts is advantageous,
so is the great number of persons to whose share the productions of
these arts fall. A too great disproportion among the citizens weakens
any state. Every person, if possible, ought to enjoy the fruits of his
labour, in a full possession of all the necessaries, and many of the
conveniences of life. No one can doubt but such an equality is most
suitable to human nature, and diminishes much less from the happiness
of the rich than it adds to that of the poor. It also augments the
power of the state, and makes any extraordinary taxes or impositions
be paid with much more cheerfulness. Where the riches are engrossed by
a few, these must contribute very largely to the supplying the public
necessities. But when the riches are dispersed among multitudes, the
burden feels light on every shoulder, and the taxes make not a very
sensible difference on any one’s way of living.
Add to this, that where the riches are in few hands these must enjoy
all the power, and will readily conspire to lay the whole burden on
the poor, and oppress them still farther, to the discouragement of all
industry.
In this circumstance consists the great advantage of England above
any nation at present in the world, or that appears in the records of
story. It is true, the English feel some disadvantages in foreign trade
by the high price of labour, which is in part the effect of the riches
of their artisans, as well as of the plenty of money; but as foreign
trade is not the most material circumstance, it is not to be put in
competition with the happiness of so many millions. And if there were
no more to endear to them that free government under which they
live, this alone were sufficient. The poverty of the common people is
a natural, if not an infallible effect of absolute monarchy; though I
doubt whether it be always true, on the other hand, that their riches
are an infallible result of liberty. Liberty must be attended with
particular accidents, and a certain turn of thinking, in order to
produce that effect. Lord Bacon, accounting for the great advantages
obtained by the English in their wars with France, ascribes them
chiefly to the superior ease and plenty of the common people amongst
the former; yet the governments of the two kingdoms were, at that time,
pretty much alike. Where the labourers and artisans are accustomed to
work for low wages, and to retain but a small part of the fruits of
their labour, it is difficult for them, even in a free government,
to better their condition, or conspire among themselves to heighten
their wages. But even where they are accustomed to a more plentiful
way of life, it is easy for the rich, in a despotic government, to
conspire against them, and throw the whole burden of the taxes on their
shoulders.
It may seem an odd position, that the poverty of the common people in
France, Italy, and Spain is, in some measure, owing to the superior
riches of the soil and happiness of the climate; and yet there want
not many reasons to justify this paradox. In such a fine mould or soil
as that of those more southern regions, agriculture is an easy art;
and one man, with a couple of sorry horses, will be able, in a season,
to cultivate as much land as will pay a pretty considerable rent to
the proprietor. All the art, which the farmer knows, is to leave his
ground fallow for a year, so soon as it is exhausted; and the warmth
of the sun alone and temperature of the climate enrich it, and restore
its fertility. Such poor peasants, therefore, require only a simple
maintenance for their labour. They have no stock nor riches, which
claim more; and at the same time, they are for ever dependent on their
landlord, who gives no leases, nor fears that his land will be spoiled
by the ill methods of cultivation. In England, the land is rich, but
coarse; must be cultivated at a great expense; and produces
slender crops, when not carefully managed, and by a method which
gives not the full profit but in a course of several years. A farmer,
therefore, in England must have a considerable stock and a long lease;
which beget proportional profits. The fine vineyards of Champagne and
Burgundy, that oft yield to the landlord above five pounds per acre,
are cultivated by peasants who have scarce bread; and the reason is,
that such peasants need no stock but their own limbs, with instruments
of husbandry which they can buy for twenty shillings. The farmers are
commonly in some better circumstances in those countries; but the
graziers are most at their ease of all those who cultivate the land.
The reason is still the same. Men must have profits proportionable to
their expense and hazard. Where so considerable a number of labouring
poor as the peasants and farmers are in very low circumstances, all
the rest must partake of their poverty whether the government of that
nation be monarchical or republican.
We may form a similar remark with regard to the general history of
mankind. What is the reason why no people living between the tropics
could ever yet attain to any art or civility, or reach even any police
in their government, and any military discipline; while few nations
in the temperate climates have been altogether deprived of these
advantages? It is probable that one cause of this phenomenon is the
warmth and equality of weather in the torrid zone, which render clothes
and houses less requisite for the inhabitants, and thereby remove, in
part, that necessity which is the great spur to industry and invention.
_Curis acuens mortalia corda._ Not to mention that the fewer goods
or possessions of this kind any people enjoy, the fewer quarrels are
likely to arise amongst them, and the less necessity will there be for
a settled police or regular authority to protect and defend them from
foreign enemies, or from each other.
NOTES, OF COMMERCE.
[7] Monsieur Melon, in his political essay on commerce, asserts that
even at present, if you divide France into twenty parts, sixteen are
labourers or peasants, two only artisans, one belonging to the law,
church, and military, and one merchants, financiers, and bourgeois.
This calculation is certainly very erroneous. In France, England, and
indeed most parts of Europe, half of the inhabitants live in cities;
and even of those who live in the country, a very great number are
artisans, perhaps above a third.
[8] _Diod. Sic._, lib. 2. This account, I own, is somewhat suspicious,
not to say worse, chiefly because this army was not composed of
citizens, but of mercenary forces.
[9] The more ancient Romans lived in perpetual war with all their
neighbours; and in old Latin the term “hostis” expressed both a
stranger and an enemy. This is remarked by Cicero; but by him is
ascribed to the humanity of his ancestors, who softened, as much as
possible, the denomination of an enemy by calling him by the same
appellation which signified a stranger. (_De Off._, lib. 2.) It is,
however, much more probable, from the manners of the times, that the
ferocity of those people was so great as to make them regard all
strangers as enemies, and call them by the same name. It is not,
besides, consistent with the most common maxims of policy or of nature
that any state should regard its public enemies with a friendly eye, or
preserve any such sentiments for them as the Roman orator would ascribe
to his ancestors. Not to mention that the early Romans really exercised
piracy, as we learn from their first treaties with Carthage, preserved
by Polybius, lib. 3, and consequently, like the Sallee and Algerine
rovers, were actually at war with most nations, and a stranger and an
enemy were with them almost synonymous.