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account rhe great, the noble, and exalted propriety of such actions. This utility, when we come to view ir, bestows upon them, undoubtedly, a new beauty, and upon that account still fuirher recommends them to our approbation. This beauty, however, is chiefly per- ceived by men of reflection and speculation, and is by no means ihe quality which first recommends such accions to the natural sentiments of the bulk of mankind.

It is to be observed, thpt so far as the sent{menr of approbation arises from the percep- .' tion of this beauty of utilitS ic has no reference of any kind to the sentiments of others. If ir was possible, rherefore, that a person should gtow up to manhbod without any com- municattion with society, his own actions might, notwithstandin$, be agreeable or dis- agreeable to him on account of their tendency to his happiness or disadvantage. He might perceivq a beauty of this kind in prudence, temperance, and good,conduct, and a defor- mity ih the opposite behayiour: he might view his olr,n temper arld character with that som of.sarisfaction with which we consider a well.contrived machine, in the one case; or with rhat sort of disraste and dissatisfaction with which we regard a very awkward and clumsy contrivance, in the other. As these perceptions, however, Cie merely a matter of t.rt ,

"nJ have all the feebleness and delicacy of that species ofpercgptions, upon the just-

ness of which what is properly called taste is fourided, they probably would not be much attended to by one in this solitary and miserable condition. Even though they should occur to him, they would 6y no means have the same effect up<iri him, antecedent to his connexion with society, which they would have in consequence of that connexion. He would $or be casr down with inward shame at the thoughd of this deformity; nor would he be elevated with secret triumph of mind from the consciousness.of the contrary beauty. He would nor exuh from the'hotion of deserving reward in the one case, nor tremble from the suSpicion of meriting punishment in the other. All sfch ser-rtirnents suppose the idea of somi qther being, who is the natural judge of the person that feels them; and it is only by sympathy with the decisions of this arbiter of his conduct, that he'can conceive, either the iriumph of self-applause, or the shame of self-condemnation.

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THE $TEAITH OF NATIONS

INTRODUCTION AND PIAN OF THE WORK :

The anntral labour of every nation is the fund which otiginally suppliis it with all the nec- essaries and conveniences of life which it annually consurnes, and which consist always, either in the immediate produce ofthat labour, or in what is purchased with that produce from other nations.

Accqrding therefore, as this producc, or what is purchased with ii, bears a greacer or smallet propoition to the number of those who are to consume it, the nation will be ber- ter or w.orse supplied with all the necessaries and conveniences for tvhich it has occasion.

gut ihis proportion must in every nation be regulated by two dif-ferent circumstances; first, by theiki[, d.*t.rit5 and judgment with which its labour is ginerally applied; and, secondly, by the proportion between the number of those who aie employed in useful labour, and that of those who are not so employed. Wharever be the soil, climate, or

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extenr of tdrritory of any particular riation, the abundance ot scantiness of its annual sup- ply must, in that particular situation, depend upon those two circumstances.

The abundance or scantiness of this supply too seems to depend mbre upon the former

. of those two circumstances than upon the latter. Among the savage nations of hunters and fishers, every individual who is able to work, is more or less employed in useful labou4 and endeayours to provide, as well as he can, the necessaries and coirveniencies of life, for himseff, or such of his farnily or ilibe as are either too old, or too youlg, or too infiirn to go a huniing and fishing. Such nations, however, are so miserably poor, rhat, from mere *ant, thqy are frequently reduced, or, at least, think themselves teduced, to the necessiry sometides of directly descroying, and sometimes of abandoning their infants, their old people, and those afllicted with lingering diseases, to perish with hunger, or to be devoured by wild beasts. Among civilized and thriving natibns, on the contrary, though a grear nutnhr of people do nst labour at all, many of whom consumg the produce of ten times, ftdQuently of a hundred times more labour than the greater pdrt of those who work; yet the pioduce of the whole labour of the siriety is so greai, that all are often abundantly supplied, and a workman, even of the lowest and poorest ordqr, if he is frugal and indus- trious, may enioy a gre ter share of the necessaries and convenience$ of life than ir is pos- sible for any savage to dcquire.

The causes of thls imfrovement, in the productive powers of labour, and the order, according to which its produce is naturally distributed among thd,different ranks and conditions of men in the society, rnake the subject of the First Boolk of this Inquiry.

rilTharever be the actual state of the skill, dexterity, ancl judgment with which labour is applied in any.nagion, the abundance or scantiness of its annual'supply.must depend, during the continuance of that state; upon the proportion between.the number of those who are'innually imployed in'useful labour, and that of those who.are not so employed. The nuutrber of useful and productive labourers, it will hereafter app.e?rr is every where in . proportion to the qu4.oqiry of capital stock which is. employed in seriing them to work, and to'the particular way in which it is so employed. The Second liook, therefore, treats bf the npq'ure of capital stock, of the manner in which it is gradually accumulated, and of the different.quantities,iof labour which it puts into,motion, according to the differenr ways in which it is employed. .j.. '

Nations tolerably well hdvanced as to skill, dexterity, and judgment, in the application of labour, have followed very different plans in the general condlct.br direction of it; and those plans have not all been equally favourable to the greatness of its produce. The pol- icy of sogre natidns has giveh extraordinary encourlgement to the iridustry of the counrry; that of others to the i.ndustry of towns. Scarce any nation has dealt equally and impartially with wiry soft of industry. Since thedownfall of the Roman ernpire, the policy of Europe has been more favourable to atts, manufactures, and comrnerce, the industry of towns; than tci agriculture,.the industry of the country. The circumstancds which seern to have introduced and established this policy are explained in the Third Book.

Though those different plans were, perhaps, fitst introduced by.the private interesrs and prejtidices of particular otders of men, without any regard tci;'or foresight o[, rheir consequences upon the general welfare ofthe society; ydr they have given occasion to very different theories of political economy; 6f which some magnify the importance of rhar industry .which is carrie'd on in towns, others of that which is carried on in the counrry. Those iheories have had a considerable influence, not pnly upon the opinions of men of learniqg, but upon the public conduct ofprinces and sovereign states. I have endeavoured, in the Fourth Book, to explain, as fully and distinctly as I can, those.different theories, and the principal effects which they have produced in clifferent ages and nation.s.

THE !UtrBALTI{ OF NATTONS 513

To explain in whar has consisted the revenue of the great body of the people, or what has

been the'nature oFthose funds which, in different ages and nations, have supplied their annual consumprion, is the object of these Four frrst Books. The Fifth and last Book treats of rhe revenue of the sovereign, or commonwealrlr. In rhis Book I have endeavoured to show; first, what are the necessary expences of the sovereign, or commonwealth; which of

, rhose expences ought to be defrayed by the general contribution of the whole society; and . which of them, by that of some particular part only, or of somdparticular.members of it;

secondly, what are rhe different methods in which che whole sociecy'may be made to con- tribute towards defraying the expences incumbent on the whole soii.ty,

"nd what are the

principal advantages and inconveniencies of each of those methods: and, thirdly and lastly, what arb the reasons and causes which have induced alrnost all modern governments to

. mortgag! some part of this revenue, or to contract debtl, and what have been the effects of those debrs up; the real wealth, the annual produce of the land and labour of the society.

. BOOKI t.

Of the Causes of Improvemqnt in the productive Powers of Labour, and.of the Order according to which its Produce is naturally

disttibuted among the different Ranks of the People

CHAPTER I

Of tbe Diaision of l^abour

The grbitest improvement in the producqive powers of labour, and the greater part of the skill, dexterity, and judgment with which it is any where directed; ot applied, seem to have been the effects of the y'ivision of labour.

Tha effects of the division of labour, in the general .business of society, will be more easily understood, -by considering in what rnanner it operates in sdme particular rnanu- factutes. It is commonly supposed to be carried further in some i'ery trifling ones; not perhaps that it really is carried further in them than in others of more importance: but in ihosb rifling manufactures which are destined to supply the small .wanti of but a small number of people, the whole number ofworkrnen rnust necessarily'be-small; and those employed in every different btanch of the work can often be collected into the same work- house, and placed at once undet the view of the spectator. In those lreat manufactures, on the conmary which are destined to supply thb great wants of the great body of the people, every different btanch of the work employs so great a number df workmen, that it is impossible to collect them all into the sam.e wbrkhouse. $7'e can seldom see more, at one time, than those employed in one single branch. Though in such rhanufactures, thereFore" the work may really be divided into a much greater number of parts, than in those of a more trifling nature, the division is not near so obvious, and has pccordingly been much

... To take an example, therefote, ftom a very trifling manufacture; but one in which the

division of labour has bein very often taken notice o{, the made of the pin-maker; a work- man not educated to this business (which the division of labour.has rendered a distinct

,34 ADAM SMITH

trade), ngr acquainted with the use of the rnachinery employed in it.(to the.invention of which the same division of labour has probably given occasion), could scarce, perhaps, with his utrnost industry, make one pin in a day, and certainly could not rnake rwenry. But in the way in which this business is now carried on, not only the whole work is a peculiartiade, but it is divided into a number of branches, of which the greater pam are likewise peculiar trades. One man draws out the wire, another straights it, a third curs ir, a fourth points it, a fifth grinds it at thi top for receiving the head; ro make the head requires two or three distinct operations; to put it on, is a peculiar birsiness, to whiten the pins is inother; it is even a trade by itself to put them into the papgri and ihe irriportant business.of making a pin is, in this manner, divided into abodt eighteen disrinct opera-

, tions, which, in some manufactoriis, are all perfor*red by discinct. hands, though in others the same man will sornetimes peform two or three of them. I have seen.a small manufactory of this kind where'ten men only w'ere employid, and where some of them

. conseq'uently performed two or thtee distinct operadons. But though rhey were lerl peorr' and therefore buc indifferendy accommodated with the necbsiary niachinery they could, when they exerted themselves, make amortg them about twelie pouiids of pins in a day. There are in a pound upwards of four thorrsand pins of a middling size, Those ren persons, therdfori, could make among them upwards of forty-eight thousand.pins in a diy. Each person, therefore, making a tenth pan of forty:eight thousand pins; might be considered as rnaking four thousand eight hundred pi,ns in a rJay. But if they had all wrought sepa- rately and independently, and without any of them having been educated to this peculiar businesi, they cettainly could not each of them hdve made twenty, pe.rhaps not one pin in

^d^yi that is, certainl% not the two hundred and'fortieth, perhaps rior the four thousand

eight lrundredth part of what they are at present capable of perforrning, in consequence of a proper division and combination of their different operations. . . .,.

This gteat increase of the quantity of wotk, which, in consequenci of the division of Iabour, the same number of people are capable of performing, is owing to rhtee different circumstances; first, to the increase of dexterity in every particulai workman; secondly, to the sb ing of the iime which is commonly lost in passing from one species of work to anogheriand lastly, to the invention of a gtedt number of tnachines,ryhich facilitare and abriige'labour, and enable one rnan to do the work of many.

First, the improvement of the dexterity of the workman necessariiy. increases rhe quan- tity of the work he can perform, and the division of labour, by reducing every man's busi- ness to. sorne one siniple operation, and by making this operation the sole employment of his life, necessarily increases very much the dexterity of the workmqn. A common smith, . who, ttrough accustomed to handle the hammer, has never been used to make nails, ii utrDn'some particularoccasion he is obliged to attempt it, will scai.ce;I am assured, be able to rnhke above'rwo or three hundred nails ir1 a dty, ahd those too very bad ones. A, smith who has been accustomed to make nails, but whose sole or'principai business has not beert.that of anailer, can seldom with his utmost cliligence rnake more than eight hundred or a thousand nails in a day. I have seen several boys under twenty years ofige who hsd never exercised any other trade but that of making nails, and.who, when they exerte'd'ttremselves, could make, each of them, upwards of two thousarid three hundred nails in d.day., The rnaking of a nail, however, is by no rneans one of rhe simplest opera- tions. The same personSlows the bellows, stirs or mends the fire as there is occasion, Leats the iron,.ahd forges every part of the nail: In forging the head too hb- is obliged to change his tools. The different operatibns intp which the making of a pin,.cir of a metal bu6on, is subdivided, are all of them trtuch more simple, and the dexterity of the person, of whose life it has been the sole business to perform them, is usually much gtr"i.r. The rapidiry

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THE IWEATTII OF NATIONS 535

wirh which some of the operations of those manufactures are performed, exceeds what the

human hand could, by ihose who had never seen them, be supposed capable of acquiring.

Secondlg rhe advantage which is gained by saving the time cornmonly lost in passing from one sort of work to another, is much greater than we should at first view be.apt to imagine iq.It is impossible to pass very quickly from one kind of work to another, that is carried on in a different place, and with quire different tools. A countil, weaver, who cul- tivates a small farm, must lose a good deal 6f time in passing from his.loom to the field, and from ihe field to his loom. When the two trades can be cartied on in the same workhouse,-rhe loss of tirne.is no doubt much less. It is even in thisliase, howeveE very considerable. A man commonly saunters a little in turning his hand- from one som of employment to another. r$(/'hen he first begins the new work he is seldom very keen and hearty; his mind, as they say, does not go to it, and for some time he rather trifes than applies to good purpose. The habit of sauntering and of indolent careless application, which is naturallp or rather necessatily acquired by every country:workrnan who is obliged to change his work and his tools every half,hour, and to appb{ his lrand in twenty different ways almost every day of his life; tenders him almost alwayi slothful and hzy, and incapable of any vigorous aprplication even on the mogt pressing'occasions. Indepen- denr, therefore, of his deficiency in point of de4teriry, this cause alone must always reduce considerabli the quantiry of work which he is capable of performing...

Thirdln and lastly, every body must be sensible how much labour is facilitated and abridged by the application of proper machinery. It is unnecessaty to g.ive any example. I shall only observe, therefoqe, that the invention of all those machines by which labour is so much facilitared and abtidged, seems to have been origirially owing to the division of labour. Men are much more likely to discover'easier and readier meth'gds of atiaining any object, *hgn the whole attention of their minds is directed towirrds- that single object, than when it is dissipated among ? gratvariety of things. But in consequence of the divi- siop of labour, the whole of every man's attention comes naturally to be directed towards some oiie. very sirnple object. It is naturally to be expected, therefoge, that some one or other of.those who are employed iri each particular branch of labour should soon 6nd out easier and readier methods of performing their own particular work, wherever the natute of it admits of such impiovement. A great part of the machines made irse of in those man- ufactures in which labour is most subdivided, were originally the inventions of common workmen, who, being each of them employed in some very simple.bperation, naturally turned their thoughts towatds finding out easier and readier methods of performing it. Iflhoever has been much accusromed to visit such manufactures, must freguently have been shewn very pretty machineq whic\ were the inventions of such workmen, in otder to facilitdte and quicken their own partitular part of the work. In the,'first fire-engines, a boy was. cpnstantly employed .to op€n and shut alternately the cornmunication between th; boiler and the cylinder, according bs the piston either ascended or descended. One of those boys; who loved to play with his.o*p.nions, observed that, b14 tying a string from the handle of the valve, which opened this communication, to another part of the machin€, the valve would open and shut withour lris assistance, and.leave him at liberty to diveft himself with his play-fellows. One of thegreatest improverhents that has been made upon this machine, since it was first invented, was in this rnanner the discovery of a boy who. wanted to save his own labour. .

All the improvements in machinery, however, have by no means been the inventions of those who had occasion to use the machines. Many improvements have been made by the ingenuity of the makers of the machines, when to make them became the business of a peculiar tiade; and some by that of those who are called philosophers or men of specula-

ADAM SMITH

rion, whose trade it is, qot to do any thing, but to observe every thing; and who, upon thar account; are often capable of cornbining together the powers of the most distant and dissimilar objects. In the progress of society, philosophy or speculation becomes, like every other employment, the principal or sole trade and occupation of a particular clasi'of citizins. Like every other employment too, it is subdivided into a great number of differ- enr branch.esl each of which affords occupation to a peculiar tribe or class of philosophers; and thii subdivision of employmint in philosophy, as well as in every other business, improves dexterity, and saves time. Each individual becomes rnore expert in his own pecu- liar branch, more work is done upon the whole, and the quantity of stience is consider- ably increased by it.

Ir is rhe great rnultiplication of the productions of all the differenc arts, in consequence of the division of labou4 which occasions, in a irell-goverrred societS that universal opu- lence which extends itself to the lowest ranks of the people. .Every workman has a great quanriry of his owh.work to dispose of beyond what he hiinself has occasion for; and every other workman being exdctly in che samb situatiort, he is enabled to. exchange a great quantiry ofhis own Cooar for a grac quantity, or, what cornes to the s3me thing, for the price of a great quantiry of theirs-. He supplies them abundantly with what they have iccasion foa'"ndlhey accornmodate him as amply with what he has occasion for, and a general plenty diffuses itself through dl the different ranfts'of the societp . Observe.'the accommodation of the most cornmon artificer or day-libodrer in a civi- lized and thriving counryr and you will perceive that the number of people of whose industry alrlarrt, though but a smalf part, has beeri employed in progurl4g-him this accorn- modatiori, ei'ceeds dl coinputatibn. The woollen coat, for exarnple, which covers the day: l4bourer, ri! cixrse and rough as it may appear, is the produce of the joint .iabour of a great rnultitude of workmbn. The shepheid, the sorter of'the wool, the'wool:-c.qdlber or carder, the dyer, ihi scribbler, the spinner, the weaver, the fuller, the dresser,'with many others, rnusi all joih their different arts in order to cornplete even this homely production. How many merthants and carriers, besides,'must have been employed iri.transporting the rndterials frbtn some of those workmen to others trho often live in a vely distant pnrt of the countrj'! How mugh comrnerce and navigation in paniculat, how malry ship-builden, sailors, sail-inakers, rope-makers, rBst have been employed in order to;brjng together the ' different drugs made use of by the dyer, which often rome from the rernotest corners of the wodd!.Vhat a variety of labour too is necessary in order to prodgce. the tools of the mednest of.those workmenl.To say nothing of such complicated machiiies as the ship of the sailor, thg mill of the fuller, or even the loorn of the weaver, let us i6nsider only what a variety of iabour is requisite in order to forn that very simple machlng, the sheais with which the shephetd clips the wool. The miner,,shg builder of the furndce:for smelting the ore, tha fefier of the timber, the burner of the charcoal tg be made use of in the srnelting- house, the brick-maker, the bricklayer, the workmen who attend the furnace, the rnill- wright, the.f.orger, the smith, rnust all of them join their different arts in order to produce them. !7'ere'we to examine, in the iarne manner, all the different parts of his dress and householdfutniture, the coarse linen shirt which he rveats next his skin; che shoes which cover his fe'et, the bed which he lies on, and all the different parrc which compose it, the kitchen-grate at which hq prepares his victbals, the coali which he makes use of for that pufpose, dug from the b6wels of the eafth, arid. brought to him perhaps by a long sea and a long land carriage, all the other utensils of his kitchen, all the furniture of his table, the knives and forks, the earthen or pe\rter plates upon which he serves up and divides his victuals, the differ'ent hands employed in preparing his bread and his besr, the glass win- dow which lets in the heat and the light, and keeps otit the wind and

.the rain, with. all

136

THE ITEATIH OF NATIONS J17

the knowledge and art requisite for preparing that beautiful and happy invention, with- out which these northern parts of the world could scarce have afforded a very comfortable habitalion,,together with the tools of all the different workmen employed in producing those iiffetent conveniencies; if we examine, I say, all these things, and'consider what a variety of labour is employed about each of them, we shall be sensible that without the assistancg and co-operation of many thousands, the very meanest pqrson in a civilized counry could not be provided, even according to, what we very falsely imagine, the easy and simpli^manner in which he is commonly accommodated. Cornpared, indeed, with the more extravagant luxury of the 1rc^t, his accommodation musr,no doubt aPPear extremely simple and easy; and yet it may be ffue, perhaps, that the accommodatio'n of an Eurogrean prince does not always so much exceed that of an industrioirs and frugal peas'

"nt, * the accornmodation of the latter exceeds that of many an African king, the absolute

rnaster ofthe lives and liberties often thousand naked savages.

CHAPTER II

Of tbe Principh wbicb gita occasion to tln Diuition of l^aboVr

This divisign of labour, from which so many advantages are derived, is not originally the effect of any human wisdom, which foresees and intends that general opulence to which it gives occasion. It is the necessary, though very slow and gradual consequence ofa cet- tain propegrsity in human natute which has in view no such extensive,utility; the propen- sity to truck, barter, and exchange one thing for another.

Tflhether this propnsiry b. one oFthose original principles in human nature, of which no furthei account can be given; or whether, as seenu more probable, it be the necessary consequence ofthe faculties ofreason and speech, it belongs not to our.present subject to enquire.Ir:is common to all men, and to be found in no other race of animals, which seem to lcnow irEither this nor any other sDecies of contracts: Ts'o greyhounds, in running down the samd hare, have sometimes the .appearance of acting in some sort of concert. Each turns her towards his companion,'or endeavours to intercept her when his companion tums her'towards himseif. This, howwer, is not the effect of any conrtact, but of the acci- dental coircutrence of their passions in the same objecc at that particular time. Nobody ever saw a dog make a fair and deliberate exchange of one bone for anbther with another dog. Nobody ever saw one animal by its gestures,:and natural cties si$nifi to another, this is mine, that yours; I am willing to give this for that. 'Ifhen an animal wants to obtain something either of a man or oFanother animal, it has no other meiits of persuasion but to gain,thg favour of those whose service it tequires, A poppy fawns. upon its dam, and a spaniel endeavours by a thousand attractions to engage the attention of its master who is at dinner, when it wants to be fed by him. Man sometimes uses the.same arts with his brethren, and when he has no other means of engaging them to act according to his incli- nations, endeavours by every servile and fawning attention to obtain their good will. He has not time, however, to do this upon every occasion. In civilized society he stands at all times iq.aegd of the cmperation and assistance of great multitudei, while his whole life is'scarce.sufficient to gain the friendship of tfew persons. In almdst.every other race of animals each individual, when it is grown up to maturity, is intirely independent, and in its natural siate has occasion for the assistance of no other living creature. But man has almost cofistant occasion for the help of his brethren, and it is in vain for him to expect it ftom iheir benevolence only. He will be more likely to prevail if he can interest their

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self-love. in his favour, and shew them that it is for their own advantage to do for him whar he .requirei of them.

'Whoever offers to another a bargain of any kind, proposes to do this. Gjve me rhat which I want, and you shall have this which Fou want, is the meaning of every such offer; and it is in this manngr that we obtain from one another the far greater pam of those good offices which we stand in need of. It is noj from the benevolence of the Lutcher, the btwer, or thd baker, that we expect our dinner,but frori'i their regatd io their own inrerest.

'We address burselves, not to theirhumanity but to their SelfJove, and never

Jt ," them of our own necessities but cif their advantages. Nobody but a beggar chuses ro depend chiefly upon rhe benevolence of his fellow-citizens. Ev.eq a beggar does not

depend upon it entirily. The charity ofwelldisposed people, indeed,supplies trim with the wliole fupd of his:subsisrcnce. Buqthough this principle ultimately $rovides him with all rhe nec6ssaries of life which he has occasion for, it neither does nor'ian provide him with them as he has occasion for them. The greater part of his.occasional srants are supplied in the same manner as those'of other people, by treaty, by- barter, 1d !f rylchase..lUfith the money.which one rnan gives him he purchases food. The old cloaths which another beitowi,upon him he exchanges for other old cloaths which suit him better, or for lodg-

ing, or.foifood, or for money, with which he can buy either food,'cloaths, or lodging, as

he-has occasion. ' . As it'is by trearS by barrer, and by purchase, that we obtain frorn one another the

'grearer part of thdse mutual gooet oflices which we smnd.in need of, so it is this sanie iruqkinj disposition which

"rigindly giyes occasion to the divisioniof labour. In a tribe of

ft";$"- si.pherds a p"rticuiar pu.too make3 bowsand artows, for bxample, with more readiness and iexteriry than- any-othen He frequently exchanges them foi cattle or for venisoq wirtr his companions; and he findp at last that he can in this riranner get rnore cat- tle and yi:nison, th"n if h. himself went''to the field to catch themi From a regard to his own interest, therefore*the mhking of bows and arr'ows gro{,s to be his chief business, and

he becomes a soit of arrnourer. Another excels in making che frames and covers of their litlle hurs or moveable houses. He is accustomed to be of use in this way to his neigh- bours, who reward him in ihe same rnanner with ca*le and with veriison, till at last he 6nds it.his interest to ie&cete himselfentirely to this employmeni, and to become a sort of house.carpenter. In the iame manner a thitd becomes a.smith oi. a braziei a fourth a ranner or drisser of hides or skin's, ehe principal part of the clothing of savages. Andrthus . thi ceti'ainty of being able io exchahge all that surplus part of tle pro{u9e of his own labour,:.which is ovet and above his own consumption, for such parts gf the producg of othcr merr'i latrour as he rnay have.occasion for,.encourages,qvery mpn to apply hiniself to a f"rtieiilai occupation, and-to cultivate ind bring to peffection whatever talent or genius hi may possess for that partiqulat species of business' '

ffr. aiference df natural talents in differcnt men.is, in tealiry.ringch less than we are aw4fie sf: and the very different genius which appeais to distinguisir,riren of different pro-

fessions,'when grown up ro rnaturity, is qgt uPon- rnany occasions so muc! the- cause, as the effecr of the division of laboir. The difference betweqn the most dissimilar characteis,

between a philosopher and a comm6n stfeet porterr for example, seerns to arise not so much from narure, as frorn habit, custu{n, and education. When they came into the world,

and for the first six og'eight years of their existence, they were, perhaps, very rnuch alike,

and neither their parents nor play-fellows could perceive any rgmarkable difference. About that age, or soon after, they come to.bb employed in very different occupations. The diffieierice of talents comes then to be takeri notice of, and wideris by degrees, till at last the vanity of the philosopher is willing to acknowled$e scarce any ripemblance. But with- out the disposition to truck, barter, and exchange, every mah must h.ave ptocured to him-

THE lrEAtrH oF NATTONS 539

self every.necessary and conveniency of life which he wanted. All must have had the same duries to petform, and the same work to do, and there could have been no such difference of employment as could alone give occasion to any great difference.of talents.

As it is this disposition which forms that di{ference of'talents, so rernarkable arnong men of diffetent piofessions, so it is this same disposition which renders that differenci useful. M"ny tribes of animals acknowledged to be all of the same species, derive from nature 1. much more remarkable dibtinction of genius, than what, antecedent to custom and edqcation, appears to take place among men. By nature a philosopher is not in genius and disposition half so different ftom a street porter, as a mastiff is from a greyhound, or a greyhound from a spaniel, or this last from a shepherd's dog. Those different tribes of animals, however, though all of the same species, are of scarce any use to one anothef. The itrength of rhe mastiff is not, in the least; supported either by the swiftness of the grey- houndn or by rhe sagacity of the spaniel, or by the docility of the shepherd's dog. The effects of those different geniuses and aalents, for want of the po.wer or disposition to barter and exchange, cannot be brought into a common stock,,and do not in the least con- tribute io che betier accornmodation and conveniency of the lpecies.,Each animal is still obliged io support and defend itself, separately and independeritly, and derives no sort of advant4gb from that variety of talents with which natrue has distinguished its fellows. Among.rnen, on the contrary the most dissimilar geniuses are of nse to one another; the different produces of iheir respectiv.e talents, by the general di'sposition to truck, barrer, and exchange, being brought, as iq were, into comrnon stock, wherb evety man may pur- chase whatevei patt of the produce of other men's talents he has occ4sion for.

CHAPTER IV

Of tbe Origin and Use of Money

I7'hen the division'of labour has been once thbtoughly establishedf it is but a very small part of a man's wants which the produce of his own labour can suppiy. He supplies the far greater.part of them by exchanging that surplus part of the produce of his own labour, which is'over and above his own consumption, for such parts of the produce of other men's labour a$ he has occasion for. Every man thus lives by exchanging;or becomes in sorne measure a merchanr, and the society .itself grows to be wlat ir p-p..ii a cornrnercial society;

But when the division of labour fitst began to take place, this power of exchanging rnust ftequently have been vety much clqgged and emLarrassed in its operadons.

-One

man, we'shall suplrose, has more of a certain commodity than he himself has occasion for, while another has less. The former consequently would be glad to dispose o[, and the lat- ter to purchase, a pau:t of this superfluiry. But if this latter should chance to have noching that the former stands in need of, no exchange can be made between them. The butcher has mote meat in his shop than he himself can consume, and the brewer and the f:rker would each of them be willing to purchase a part of it. But they have nothing to offer in excharige, except the different productions of their respective tradgs, and the butcher is already provided with all the bread and beer which he has immediate occasion for. No exchange can, in this case, be made between them. He cannot be their merchant, nor they his custemers; and they are all of them thus mutually less serviceable to one another. In order to avoid the inconverriency of such situations,'every prudent man in every period of society,.after the first establishment of the division of labour, must narurally have endeav- oured to manage his afhirs in such a manner, as to have at all times by him, besides the

ADAM SMITH

peculiar produce of his own indust ry, a ceftain quantity of some one comrnodity or other,

such as hi imagined few people would be likely to refuse in exchange for the produce of . their industrY.

Many different comrnodities, it is probable; were successively both thought of and employed for this purpose. In the rude ages of society, cattle are said to have been the comrnon instrument of commerce; and, though they must have been a.'most inconvenient

one, yer iri old times we find things were frequently valued according to the number of catd; which had been given in exchange for them. The armour of Diomede, says Horner, cost only'nine oxen; bur that of Glauius cost an hundred oxen. Salt is iaid to be the com- mon insirurnent of commerce and exchanges in Abyssinia; a species of shells in some parts

of the coasr of India; dried cod at Newfoundland; tobacco in Virginia;sugar in some of our' Ifest lidia coloniei; hides oi dressed leather in some other countries; and there is at this. day avil.lnge in Scodand where it is not uncornmon, I am told, fog l workman to carry n"ilt ini'te"d of money ro rhe baker's shop or the ale-house. :

In all.countries, however, men seern "i h"t to have been determined.by irresistible rea-

sons ro giive the priference, for this employmdnt, to metals above every other commodity.

Metals ian nor only !e kept with as-little-loss as any other commodity, scarce any thing being less'perishaUritt"n rttey ate, but they can likewise, withoutiiiny loss, be divided .into-any n,rmber of parts, as bi fusion those parts can easily be re-united again; a quality which no other equally durable commodities possess, and which {nore than any other qualiry tenders rhem fit to be the instruments of commerce and circtildtion. The man who *"n..i Lo buy safq, for- example,.and lad nothing but cattle g givi in exchange for it, must hay! been obliged to buy salt to the value of a whole ox, dr a wliole sheep at a time. He cquld seldom buy less tban this, Qeclu.se wh4q he was to give for,ii could seldom be divided without loss; and if h'e had a mind to buy more; he rnust,. for the same reruions' have been obliged to buy double or triple the quantiry the value, tb wit, of two or three oxen, or of rwo or rhree sheep. If, on the contrary, instead of sheep or' oxen, he had metals to give.iir exchange for ir, he could easily proportion the quantity of.the metal to the pre- cise quantiry of che commodity which he had immediate occasion for" . .

It is in this manner rhat money has becomg in all civili"rd nations.the universal instru- ment of commerce, by the intervention of whiqh goods of all kindi are bought and sold, or exchdnged for one another. .

'.:

Whad iie the rules which men oaturally observe iri exchanging ih.m Either for money or for one ahorher, I shall nonr pt(rceed to examine..These rules deteimine what may be called the relative or exchangeable vdue of goods.

hiri"ra Value, it is tJbe observed, f,", .*o different meanings, and sometimes /r*prrrsei the utility of some particular object, and sometimes the'power of purchasing

,, / ot[rer goods which the possession of that object conveys. The one rirdy be called 'value in .. \,fd / *r,' tf,e brher, 'value in exctrange.' The things which have the gieatest value in use have

\ N; { ft qu.ntly limle or no value in exchange; and, on the contrary, those which have the great-\..nV" _ip est value in exchange have.frequently little or no,value in use. Noghing is more useful \N $a-,**it $\ than water: but it will purchase scarce any thing; scarce any thing c4n be had in exchange " _ s{t- \ fot it. A dlamond, on the contiary has scarce any value in use; but a very great quantity 1t \of other goods may frqquently be had irl exchange for it.'

In order to investigate thi principles which regulate the exchangeable value of com- modities, I shall endeavour to shew,

Firstiwhat is rhe real measure of rhis exchangeable value; or, wherein consists the real price of all commodities, .

Secoridly, what are the different parts of which this real price is iomposed or made up.

,40

THE r0/EAtTH Or NATIONS 541

And,'Iastly, what are the different circumstances which sometimes raise some or all

of tt .r. different parts of price above, and sometimes sink them befow their natural or udinaiy rare; or, wh"r are-rhe causes which sometimes hinder ther'market price, that is, rhe a6ual price of commodities, from coinciding exactly wirh what may be called their

, those three subjects in theI shall endeavour to explain, as fully and distinctly as I can three following chapters, for which I must very earnestly entreat both the patience and agenrion of rhe reader: his patience in order to examine a demil which may perhaps in some piaces appear unnecessarily tedious; and his attention in ordei'to understand what

-"y, rtiii.pr, "f."t the fullest explication which I am capable of giving of it, appear still

in some degree obscure. I arn always willing to run some hazard of being tedious in order to be sure ihat I am perspicuous; and after taking the utmost pains that I can to be per- spicuotis.,.some obscurity mry still appear to remain uPon l subiect in its own nature extremely abstracted.

CHAPTER V

Of the real and nominal Price of Conmodities,

. or of tbeir Price in l^a.bow, and tbeir Price in Moryry

Every man is rich or poor according to the degree in which he can af-fqrd to enioy-the nec- .rr*i.r, conveniencies, and amusements of human life. But after the'division of labour has once thoioughly taken place, it is but a very small part of these with which a rnan's own labour can supply him-The far greatet part of them he must derive from the labour of other people, and he musr be rich or poor according to the quantity of that laboui which he can comrnand, or which he can affoid to purchase. The value of apy commodity, there- fore, to- the person who po3sesses it, and who means not to use or consume it himself, but 'to exchange it for othei cornmodities, is equal to the quantity of labour which jt enables him to purchase or comrnand. Labo-ur, therefore, is the real measuqe bf the exchangeable value of all commodities. '.. , The teai price of every thing, what every thing really costs to thi man who v/ants to acquire. it, is the toil and trouble of acquiring it:

'!7hat every thing i3 really worth to the r"* rrho has acquired iq, and who wanis to dispose of it.or exchange it for something else, is the toil and rrouble which it can save to himself, and which it,chn impose upon other people.,S7hat is bought with money or with goods is putchased by labour as much as riihat we acqtiire by the toil of our own body. That money or those goods inqleed save us this toil. They ioqtain the value of a certain quantity of labour which we exchdnge for what is sup posed at the time to contain the value of an equal quantity. labour.was the firct price, the original purchase money that was paid for all things. It was not by gold or by silver, but by labour, that all the wealth of the world was originally putchased; and its value, to those who ptxsess ir and who want to exchange it for some new prductions, is precisely equal to the qwintity of labour which'it can enable them to purchase or command.

l$0'ealth, as Mr, Hobbes says, is power. But the lrerson who either acguites, or succeeds ro a great fortune, does not necessarily acquire or succeed to any political power,,either civil or military. His fortune may, perhaps, afford him the means of acquiring both, but the mere possession of that furtune does not necessarily convey to him either. The power which that possession immediately and directly conveys to him, is ihe power of purchas- ing; a cenain command over all the labour, or over all the produce oflabour which is then

t42 ADAMSMITH

in the market. His fortune is.greater or less, precisely in proportion to the extent of this power; or to the quantity either of orher men's labour, or, whar is the same thing, of the produce of orher men's labour, which it enables hirn to purchasi or cornrnand. The exchangeable value of every thing must always be prec.isely equal io the extenr of this power which it conveys to its owner'

But though labourbe the real rneasute of the exchangeable value of all commodiiies, it is not thar by which rheir value is cornmonly estimated. Ir is often.ilifficult ro ascertain the proporiion between two different quantities of labour. The time spent in rwo differ- ent soris'of work will not always alone determine this proportion. fhe different degrees

"ift*armp endured, and of ingenuity exercised, *otilikt*ise be:taken into accounr.

ni;;;;")r be mbre labour in an ho,rrt hard work than in iwo hour!.-easy business; or in an hour! application to a trade which it cost ten years labour to lear.ii, than in a monrh's industqr.aian ogdin4ry and obvioui ernploymgnt. Bui it is not easy qo find any accurate measure €ither of hardship cir ingenuity. In orchanging indeed the difltrent productions of dlifetenr sorts of labour for oit

"noih.r, sonie

"llowance is cornrri.bnly -"i. for borh.

ft is adjusled, however, oot by any accurate meiiuri,'bEt by th9 higgling and bargaining of the riralkeq according to that. sort of rough equdity which, though not exact, is suffi- cient for.carrying on the business of common life. . '1

Every .oto-Jdi,y besides, is more frequently exchdnged for, and. chereby conlpared with, othei.cdmmodities than vith.labour. It i3 rnore natural,. thergfore, to estimate its exchangeable value by the.quantity of sorne other commodiry than.by that of the labour which it chn purchase. Thq greaterpaft of people too undetstand better what is indanr by a qudnti ry of a particulat commodiry, thpn by a qudntity of labodi. The one is a plain palpable object; the other an abstract notion, which, though it can b'i made sufficiintly i"iittieiUle, ir oot aliogethbr io'natural and obvlous.

Buitvhen barter .ars..r, and rirontiy has becorne the'comrnon instrurnent of cornrndrci, every'plticular cod'rmodity is mgre irequently exihanged fcir gnonelr. thag for any other commodity. fie butchir seldom cb$ies his beef or his rnutton to the'baker, or rhe brewer, in ordet.t6 exchange thein for br.ead o.r fot beer, but be carries them.to the rnarket, where he exchanges them.for money, and afterwards erchanges that rironiy for bread and for

beer. ftb qlraritity of money.which he $ets 6r thern tegulates too,the quandry of bread and beer 1vlich he cari afterwards purchase. It is srore natufial and ohvious to him, theie- fore, to estirhate. their valui by the quantity of rnoney, the commodity fot' which he irnme; diately exchanges them, thah by that of br&d.and beer, the iommodities for which he can exchangi them only by thi intervehtion of another tciiidodity; ancl-tather to say rhar his butgh;t-]q..+eat is wort! thteepence or'fourpence a.pound, than thar ir is worth three or four poftlds of b5ead, or tirree ot four quaiti of small beir.. Hence iq io5nes to.pis; that .. the exchan$dible value of every.o--odity is more fiequently estirnaied by thiquantity. of moqgy, than byihe quaatiry either of labour or of anybth'er cqrqmodiry which can be had in erchange for it. l

Gold,ind silver,'however, like every other cornrnodiry vary in their value, rue some- times thdaper and soinetimes dearer, sbrnetimes of easier and someqimes of morg difitcult purchase. The quantity of labour whig!.anl particular guandty of thEm can purchase or commahd; or the quagtity of other goods which it will exchange for,'depends always upon the fertility or bartenness of the rnindi which happen to be known.al,out the time when such exchanges are made. The discovery of the abundant mines of America reduced, in the sixteenth.'century the value of gold and silver in Eirrope to about a'third of what it had been bafoie. As it cost.less labour to bring thosemetals from themine to the rnarker, so when th'ey were brought thither they could putchase or cornrnand less labour; and this revoluti.on in their value, though perhaps the greatest, is by no means the only one of

THE VEAITH OF NATIONS ,4)

which hisrory gives some account. But as a measure of quantity, such as the natural foot, fathom, oi handful, which is conrinually varying in its own quantity, can never be an accurate rneasure of rhe quantity of other things;.io u commodity which is itself continu- ally varying in its own value; can irever be an accurate rneasure of the value of other corn- rnodities, Equal quantities of labour, at all times and places, may be said to be. of equal value to the labodrer. In his ordinary state of health, strength and sp'iiirs; in the ordinary degtee of his skill and dexteriry, he must always lay down the same portion of his ease, his libertS and his happiness. The price which he pays must always bi the s6me, whatever rnay be the quantity of goods which he receives inrerurn for ic. Of ihese, indeed, ir may sometimeb purchase a greatr.r and sometirnes a smaller quantity; but ic is their value which viqies, not that of the labour.which purchases them. At all times and places thar is dear which it is difficult to come at, or .hi.h it costs much labour to acquire; and thar cheap wbich is to be had easily, or with very little labour. Labour aloqe, therefore, neve! varying in its own value, is alone the ultimate arid real standard by which the value of all comrnodities can at all times and places be estimated and compared.'Ir is their real price; money is their nominal price only.

But though equal quaritities of labour are always of equal value to ghe labourer, yer to the pers6n who employs him they appear sometimes to be oFgreatrir and sometimes of smaliet

"4ot. He purchases thern sornetime$ with a greater and sometimes with a smaller

quantityof goods, and to him the price of labour seerns ro vary like rhar of all other things. It appea$ to him dear in the 6ne case, and cheap in the other. In reality however, it is the goods which are cheap in the one case, and dear in the other-.

In this,-popular sense, therefore, labour, like commodities, may be said to have a rcal irnd a nqrninal price. Ie real price may be said to consist in the quanqir-y of the necessaries and conviniencies of life which are given for it; its nbminal price, in che quanrity of money. The labouer is rich or poor, is well or ill rewarded, in propoiiibn to rhe real,'nor to the nominal ptice of his labour. . . .

CHAPTER VI

. Of tlte conponent Parts of tbe Price of Commoditia,

In that early and rude state of society which precedes both the accumuiation of srock aird the apptoitiation of land, the proportion between the quanrities of:labour necessary for acquiring different objects seems to be the only circumstance which can afford any rule for exchanging them for one another. If among a nation ofhunrers, fof'example, it usually costs twicJ the labour to kill a beaver which it does to kill a deer, one.beaver sirould nat- utally exchange for or be worth two deer. It is natural rhar what is usually rhe produce of two dais or two hous labbur, should be worth double of whar is usdally ihe produce of one dayb or one hourt labour.

If the one species of labour should be more severe than the orher, some allowance will naturally.be made for this superior hardship; and the produce of one hour's labour in the one way. may frequently exchange for that of rwo hours labour in rhe other.

Ot if the one strrecies of labour requires an uncornrhon degree of dexteriry and ingenu- iry, the esteem which rnen have for such talents, will naturally give'a value to their pro- duce, superior to what would bc due to the time employed abour ir. Such talents can seldorn be acquired but in consequence oflong application, and rhe superior value ofrheir produce may frequendy be no rnore than a ieasonable compensarion for rhe time and labour which must be spent in acquiring them. In the advanced state of,society, allowances

,44 ADAM SMITH

of this kind, for.superior hardship and superior stilf are commonly made in the wages of i"Ur".; and something of the same kind must probably have taken plici in its eatliest and rudest period.

In this'state of things, the whole produce of labour belongs to the labouret; and th6 qr""riry of labour comnionly employed in acquiringorproducing an1c.ol.rmodity, is the only

.ir.,r,,,r,an.e which can regulate qhe quantiry of labour which it oi'rght commonly to pur;,

chase, codrnandr'or exchange for' '- A, ,oon

", stock has accumulated in the hands of particular pirsons, sorne of them will

o","Jfy.-ploy it in setting io wotk industrious people,llt"T they will supply with

-"teri"ts.'i od sobrir,uoce, in ordei tci rnake a profit by the s.ale of thbir work, or by whdt

;;il.b"* adds.to the value of the materials. In exchangrog the coniplete rnanufacture ;i.t.r for. money, foi labour, or for other goods, over and above what may be sufficient io

-" iftr piice of the m"terhls, and the wages of the workmen, sornething must be given

toJ,fi. pionts of the undertaker of the work who hazards his stock in tlit adventure. The ,J".

"'ii.tt the workmen add q the materials, therefore, resolves itself in this case inco

i*" o*tr, "f

which the one p,"yr iheir yagei, the other' the profits of their employer upon

tt e o,t oti rtock of materials and ryages wbich he advanced. FIe could have no interest to

employ them, unless he expected from the sale of their-work something more than what

o,r" rjhci.nt to replace his stock to him; and he could have no interest to epploy 3 Sre c stock rather rhan alrirall one, unless his profits wer.e to bear some Proportion to the e.xtent

of his stoilc. i* il;r#ts of stoclr, ir may pelhaps be thought, are onll a-diffetent n:me fot the wages

of a partilutar son of labour; rhe labour of inspection and direction..They ate,.howwer,

altogether differenr, are gegulated by quite diff.9png ptinciples, and tiear no proportion'to

,i. i*,tirir5 the har{shif, or ghe iggenuity.of ihis- suppoied tabotrg 9f inspection-and direciioir:'ihgy "r.

regulated altogether by the value of the stock employed,.and are

greatgr.bi:srn"ller in proportion to the ertent of this stock. Let us suirpose; for exarrtple, ihat in sorne particular place, where the cornmon anniral ;irofits of rnanufacturing stock are tbn iier cent, therg are wo different manufactures, in each of which twenty workmen are ernjloyed at the mte of fifteen pounds lyffi e4ch, oq at the exPegse of thrye hundred

^y@ti; e".n mantrfactery. ktps.suppose 1ry, thlt g.he-gryse materiais "ln$ty yloughd

up in the one cost only seven hundred pounds; while the finer mate5ials in the othir cost

seven thouslnd. The iapital pnually employed in the one. will in qhis case amount oply ro one thousand pounds; whireas that employed.in ihe other will amount to seven thou; sand three hundred poundq. At .th9 rite of ten per cerit,.thepefore,:dhi underiaker of'the one wiii exp€ct un yotty profit of about one hundre4 egoat only; while that of the other will expbciabout ,.".o tt*Utua and thirty poqnds. Bdt though their profits are so ve.ry different, their labour of inspection and direction may be gither dtbgether or very nearly

;;;;. In many gr.", *irLr,.elmost the whole labour of this kind is cornmitted to some;irihcipal clerk. His wages ptoperly e:qpress- the value of this labour of ini;pection and

direction !'hough in settling them some regard is had tommonly; pgt only to his labour

and slcili, but to the trust which is.;eposed in'him, yet they never'beat ^ny regular pro-

portion io the capital of which \e oyelpees the management;.and thq ol1er of-this.capi- ial, though he isihr4sdischargedof aLirost all labour, siill expecis that his P1fi-ts should b..,

" g.i rt"r propoition to his capital. in the pricS :f qommodities; therefore, the profits

of stocklonrritut. a c-omponen, ry:, altogether different from the.wages of labour, and

regulated by quite different principles."In this rt"i. of things, rhe whole produce of labour does not'always belong to the

labourer. He must in most cases share it with the owner of the stock which employs him.

THE ITEALrH OF NATIONS 54'

Neither is rhe quantity of labour commonly employed in acquiring'or producing any commodity, the only circumstance which can regulate the quantity which it ought com-

, monly to purchase, command, or exchange for. An additional quantity, it is evident, rnust . be due for the profits of the stock which advanced the wages and furnished the materials

of that labout As socin as the'land of any country has all become private property, the landlords, like

all other riren, love to reap where they never sowed, and demand a rent even for its nat- ural produge. The wood of the forest, the grass of the 6eld, and all the natural fruits of

,the earth, which, when land was in common, cost the labourer only che trouble of gather- ing them, corne, even to him, to have an additional price fixed upon them. He. must then pary fot the licence to gather them; and must give up td the landlord a poition of what his labour either collects.or produces. This portionr or, what comes to the same thing, the price of thii portion, constitutes the rent of land, and in the price of the greater part of cornmodities rnakes a third component paft. .:

The real value of all the different component parts of price, it,rriust be observed, is rfreasur.ed by the quantity of labour which they can, each of the.m, puihase or command. Labour rtreasurcs the value not only of that part of price which resolvis itself into labour, bur of rhat- which resolves itself into rent, and of that which resolves itself into profit. . . .

BOOK IV

Of Systems ofPolitical Economy

Political :g-conomy, consideied ", j b."o.h of the science of a ,."r.r^in or legislator, pro-

poses rwodistinct obiects; first, to provide a plentiftrl revenue or subsistence for the 1reo- 'ple, or riiore proprly to enable them'to provide such a tevenue or subsistence for thbmselieii; and secoirdlp to supply the state or cornrnonWealth with a teveirue.suf-ficient foi the publick services.'it prpor.r to enrich both the pgople and the soverqign.

Th9 different prcgress of opulertce in.different ages and nadons, has given occasion to two different systerns of political economy, with tegard to enriching the people. T.he one may be galld the system of.commerce, the other th4t of agriculture, f shall endeavour to

"*pl.in both as fully and disiinctly as I can, and shall hgin with the siistem of comrnerce.

It is the modem systern, and is best understood in orrr own country anil in our own times.

.. CHAPTER II

t of *"

"";:;o#!,' ::l::";: ;Itr ;T:'; # n'lr i r of

. . . Every individual is continually exerting himself to find out th.e most advantageous employment for whatevet capital he can command. It is his own advantage, indeed, and not that of the societS which he has in view. But.the study of his own advantage naturally,

146 ADAM SMITH

ot rather necessarily leads hirn to prefer that employment which is most advantageous to the sociecy.

First, every individual endeavours to employ his capital as near home as he can, and con- sequenrly as much as he can in the support of domestick industry; provided always that he can rhireby obtain the ordinary, or not a great deal less than the ordinary profits ofstock.

Thus upon equal or nearly equal profits, every wholesale merchant naturally prefers the home-ti:ade to the foreign trade of consumption, and the foreign tradd of consumption to the carrying trade.:In the horne-trade his capital is never so long out of his sighr as it fre- quently is in the foreign trade of consumption. Ffe can know better the character and situ- alion of the persons whom he truss, and if he should happen to be deceived, he knows berter the laws of the country from which he must s..k r.diesr. In the carryingtrade, the capital of the merchant is, as it were, divided between two foreign cortntries, and no part - of it is e'ver necessarily brought home, or placed under his own immediati view and com- mand. The capital which an Amsterdam merchant employs in carrying corn from Konnigsberg io Lisbon, and fruit and wine from Lisbon to Konnigsberg, rnust generally be the one.half of it at Konnigsberg and the other half,ar Lisbon. No pafg gf it need ever corne to Amsterdain. The natural residence of such a merchant should either be at Konnigsberg or Lisbcin, and it can only be some very particular circumstances which can make him pre- fer the r€sidence of Amsterdam. The uneasiness, however, which he feels at being setrnrated so far from his capitd, generally determines him to bring part both of the Konnigsberg goods which he destineifor the market of Lisbon, and cif the Llsbon goods which he des- iines fot rhar of Konnigsberg, to Amsterdam: and though this necessarily subiects him to a doub.la.ch*ge of loading and unloading, as well as to the payrireht of some duties and custorns, yer for the sale of having some part of his capital always undet his own view and comrnand, he willingly submits to'this extraotdinary charge; and it:is in this mannet that every colrntry which has any considerable'share of the carcying trade, becomes always the emporium, or general market, for the goods ofa[ the differem countiiis whosb trade it car- riJon. The mirchant, in order.o r"uJrr..ond loading and unloadihg, endeavours always . to sell in the home-market as rnuch of the goods of all those differene coutrtriei as he can, and thus,so far as he can, to convbrt his carrying trade into a foreign rade of consdmption. A merchant, in the.same rnanner, who is engaged in the foreign qrade of consirmption, when he collects goods f-or foreign rnarlets, will always be glad, upoir iqual or nearly equal profits, to sell as great a part of them at home as he. can. He saves himself the tisk and ttou- Lle of e*potration; when, so far as he caq, he thus converts his forcign trade oiconsurnp- tion irit6 a home-trade. Home is in this rnanner the center, if I may say so, round which the capitals.of the inhabitants of every country ire continually circulating, and towards which thiy ari blways teriding, though by particular cbuses they rnay sometirnes be ddven offand repelled from it towards more distant employments. But a capital employed in the home- trade, iiha.s aheady been shown, necessbrily puts into motion a gteatei quaniity of domes- tic indrf fry, and gives revenue and employment to a greater numbe.r of the inhabitants of the country than an equd capital employed in the foreign trade of bdnsumption: and one employed in the foreign trade of consumption has tho same advantage over an equal capi- tal employed in the carrying trade. Ugon equal, or bnly nearly equal profits, therefore, every igdividual naturally inclines to employ his capital in the manner in which it is likely to afford the greatest suppoft to domestick indirstry and to give revenue and employrnent ro the greatest number of people of his own country.

Secondly, every individual who employs his capital in the support'of domestick indus- try necissarily endeavouts so to direct that industry that its produce. may be of the great- est possible value.

THE \VDATTH OF NATIONS '47

The produce of indusrry is whar it adds to the subject or materials. upon which it is employed. In propomion as rhe value of this produce is great or small, so will likewise be the profits of ihe-employer. Bur it is only for the sake of pro6t that any man employs a capiral in the suppom of industry; and he will alw.ays, therefore, endeavour to employ it in the support of that industry of which the prodtice is likely to be <if the gre4test value ot ,o.*.6rngie for the greatest quantity either'of money or of other goods,

Bur the annual revenue of gvery society is'always precisely equal to the exchangeable value of the whole arinual produce of its industry or rather is precisel.y the same thing with thit exchangeable value. As every individual, therefore, endeavburs as much as he can both to.employ his capital in the support. of dornestick industry, and so to direct that industry that iri produce may be of the greatest value; every individual'necessarily labours to render the annual reveilue. of the society as great as he can. He generally, indeed, nei-

- rhet inrends to promore the publick iotetest, nor knows how muth he'ip promoting it' By / prcferring the support of domestick to that of foreign industrS he intendp only his ownv

security; and by directing that industry in such a manner as its prcdpce mly be of the grearesr value, he inrends only his own gaih, and hd is in this; as, in many other cases; led by an invisible hahd to promotean end which wadno part of his intention. Nor is it always'thL.worse for the society that it was iio part of it. By pursuing:his own interest he frequently.pfomores that of the society more effectually than when he really intends to promote it. I have never known much Bood done by those who affected to trade for the publick gobd. Ir is an affectation, indeed, not very io--on among rirdrchants, and very

' few wordineed be employed in dissuading thern from it. ^.

' .. Nflhat is the speciei of domestick industry which his capital.can einploy, and of which

rhe produce is likely to be of the gieatest o"iou, every individual, it is-evident, can, in his locai situation, judge much. beitCr than any statcsman or lawgiver can do for him. The stateman,'-who should attempt to direct priv4te people in what rnann€r they'ought to employ their capitals, would not only load hirnself with a rnost unnecessary attention, but 'assume an authority which could safely be trusted, not only to no singli person, but to no council oi senate whateier, and which would nowhere be so dangerous as in the hands of a riran who had folly and presumption enough to fancy himself fit to:exercige it. . . .

. \ i ':

'-: Of tt, Agrioiaral Systemt.. . '

. . . All sysrems either of preference or of resmaint, therefore, being thus completely taken

. away, the,obvious and simple system of naruial liberty establishes itself of its own accord.' Every rned, as long as he does hot violate the laws of justige, is left peirfectly fiee to pufsue his own"interesr his own way, and rc bring both his industry and capital into comlrtition with thosi of any other man, or order'of men. The sovereign is cornplgtely discharged from

' a dury, in the attempting to perform which he must always be expgsdd to innumerable delusions, and for the propr performance of which no human wisdoni 6t knowledge could ever be sufficienr; ttr. iuty of supetintending the indutry tif private peopl€, and oldirect- ing it towards the employments most sliitable to the interest of the society. According to the systenr of natural iif.ttn the sovereign has only three duties to attend to; three duties of great irnlxrrtance, indeed, but plain and intelligible to comrnon understandings: first, the duty ofprotecting the society from the violence and invasion ofother independent soci- eries; secondly, the duty of protectingr as far as.possible, every member of the society from

':. I

548 ADAM SMrTH

the injusrice or oppression of every other member of it, or the duty of establishing an exact administration of jusrice; and, thirdlS the duty of erecting and maintaining certain pub- lick wodc and certain publick institutions, which it can never be for the interest of any individual, or small no brt of individuals, to etect and maintain; because the profit could never repay the expence to any individual or small number of individuals, though it may frequenily do much more than reP y it to a great society. . . '

th.'.prop.t performance of those several duties of the sovereign necessarily supposes a certain'bxpence; and this expence again necessarily requires a certain revenue to support it. In tlie following book, therefore, I shall endeavout to explain; figst, wha.t are the neces- sary expences of the sovereign or commonwealth; and which of those expences ought to be defrayed by the general contribution of the whole society; and which of them, by that of some pirticular part only, or of some particuldr membeis of the society: secondlS wbat are the different mithods in which the whole society may be made.to conttibute towards <lefreyiltg th'e expences incumbent on the whole society, and what are the ptincipal advan- tages and inconveniencies of each of those methods: and, thirdly, what are the reasons and causes which have induced almost all modern go-vernmen$ to mortgage some part of this revenubj or to contract debts, and what have been the effects ofthose debts upon the real wealth,.rhe annual produce of the land and labour of the society. The following book, therefor.e, will naturally be divided into three chapters.

.:.

Of the Revenue of the Sovereign or Commonwealth

CHAPTER I ..

Of tbe Expnca of tln Soamign or Commonwea.ltb

. '.:, t

. . . Thq.expence of defending the societS and that of supporting ihe dignity of the chief magisu4te, are both laid out for thq general benefit of ihe whole to.i.ty. It is reasonable, thereforb, that they should be defrayed by the genetal contributiqn ofihe whole society, all the different members contributing, as nearly as possible, in ptoportion to rheir respec- tive abilities; .

Thegxpence of the adrninismation of justice too, may, no doubt,.be considered as laid out for the benefit of the wliole'society. There is no impiopriery 3tssssfore, in its being defrayed by the general contribution of the whole society. The persoris, however, who give occasion to this expence are those who, by their injustice in one way or anorher, make it necessary to seek redress or protection frorn the courts of juscice. The persons again most immediately benefited by this exPencelare those whom the courts of justice either restore to their.rights, or meintain irl their rights. The expence of the administmrion of justice, thereibre, may very properly be defrayed by the particular contribution of one or orher, or both of those two different sets of persons, according as different occasions may require, that is,.by the fees ofcourt, It cannot bd necessary to have recourse to the general contri- bution of the whole societS except for the conviction of those criminals who have nor themselves any estate or fund sufficient for paying those fees.

THE \)TEALTH OF NATIONS 149

Tlf'ose local or provincial expences 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 q'ught to be no burden upon ihe general revenue of the society. It is unjust thas the whole society should conrribute towards an expence of which the benefit is confined to a part of the society.

The expence of maintaining good roads and communications is, no doubr, beneficial to the wholi.society, and map therefore, without any injustice, be defrdyed by the general contribution of the whole society. This expence, however, is mosg'immediately and directly beneficial ro those who travel or , rry goods from one place to another, and to those who consume such goods. . . .

The eipence of the institutions for bducation and religious instruttion, is likewise, no doubt, bdneficial to the whole socigty, and .may, therefore, without injustice, be defrryed by the general contribution of the whole society. This expence, however, might.perhaps with eqrii! pioprietp and even with sonre advantage, be defrayed altogether by those who receive the imrnediate benefit of such education and instructiori, or by the voluntary con- triburiqil of those who think they have occasion for either the one oi c.he other. . !7hen the instirutions.or pullick works which are beneficial to the whole society, either canirot be maintained altogether, ot aie not maintained altogeiher by the contribu- tion of such particular members of the society as are rnost immediately' benefited by them, the deficibncy must in most cases be made up by the general coririlrution of the wlrole society...The general revenue of the society, over and abovg defiying the expence of defending the societg and of supporting the dignity of the chief migistrate, must make up for the deficiency of many particular branches bf revenue. The sources of this general or publick revenue, I shall endeavour to explain in the following chapter.

CHAPTER II

Of tbe Soarca of ttn general m fubtick Reuenrc of rbe Sociuy

The reveiiue which must defraS not only the expence of defending the..society and of,sup- porting the dignity of the chief magistrate, but all the other necesiary expences of goi,- ernment;,for which the constitution of the state has not provided aay particular revenue, may-he-drawn, either, 6rst, From somb-fi,rnd whiCh pequli.a-.fly belongs q_o_fbg_g-".erelgq commoqiwealth, and which is independent of the revenue of the people; or, secondly, from the revenie of the people. r.

PART II

OfTaxa t

. . . Befote I enter uporf the examination of particular t,rxes, it is necessary to premise the four following maxims with regard to taxes in general. :

I. Thesubjects of every state ought to contribute towards the support of the governfnent, as nearly'as possible, in proportion to their respective abilities; that is, in proportion to the revenue which they respectively enjoy undqr the protection of the state. The expence of gov- ernment to the individuals of a grat nation, is like the expence of mahagement to rhe joint

t50 ADAM SMITH

tenanrs ol a gteat estate who are all obliged to contribute in ptoportjon to their respective interests in the esrate. In the observation or neglect of this maxim consists, what is called the equality or inequality of ta:ration. Every tax, it must be observed oncg for all, which falls finally upbn one only of rhe tbree sorts of revenui above-mentioned, is necessarily unegual, in sq far as it does not affect the other two. In the following examination of different taxes I shall seldom rake muih further notice of this sort of inequaliry, but shall, in most cases, con- fine my observations to that inequality which is occasioned by a pdrticular tax falling unequally even upon that particular sort gf private revenue which is affected by it. "

II. The tax which each individual is bound to pay ought to be certain, and not arbi- ,t"ty, ti.. time of payment, the rnanner ofpayment, the quantity to be paid, ought all to be clear and plain to the contrio-utor, and to every other person. I7'here it is otherwise, every l?erson subject ro the tax is put more or less in the power of the tax-gatherer, who can either sggt:rvate the tax upon any obnoxious contributbr, or extort, by the rerror of such aggravation, some present or perqirisite to himself.,The uncirtainty of taxation encourages the insolence and favouts the corruption of an order of men who are naturally unpopular, even where ihey are neitherinsolent nor corrupt. Thelceitainry of what each individual ,ought ro pay is, in taxatioh, a matter of so great irnpo{tqnce, that a very cbn- siderable dbgree ofinequality, it appears, I believe, from the experience ofall nations, is not neiu so great an evil as a very small degree of uncertainty-

III. Every taxought to be levied at the time, or in tlie rnanner in which it is most likely tti be co.nvenient for the conributor to pay it. A.tax upon the reiit bf laird or of houses, payable at the same teffn at which such rents are usually paid, is levied at the time when ir ir mort likely to be convenient for thb contributor to pay; or, when he is most likely to have wheiewithal to pay. Tirxes upon such consurnable goods as ar'e ariicles of luxury.ass alt fiqlalty pard by the consurner, and generally in a manner that'is very coovenient for him. Hi pays thern by; little and liitle, as he has occasion to buy the goods. As he is at liberty.goo, either to buy, or not to buy as he pleases, it must be [ris own fault if he ever su(fers any considerable inconveniency from such taxiS. '.

.IV.:Eviry tax ought to be so conrived as both to take out and to keep out of the pock- ets of the people as little as possible, over and above what it brings into the publick trea-. sury of ihJ state. A ta1 qray either take out or keep out of the n*kgtt of the people a, gre t deal milre than it brings into the publick ti.easury in the four following ways. Fir.st, the levylng of it q"y require t great number of officers, whose salaries iriay eat up the greater part of ihe produce oFthe tax, and *,hose peiquisites mai imposg another additional tax upon the peoplg. Secondln ig,mai. obstruct the industry of the i'reople, and discouiage them horn applying to certain branches of business which might give maintenance and employment to gr,eat rnultitudes. IThile it obliges the people to pay,'it may thus dimin- ish, oi perhaps destroy some of the funds, which might enable thcni more easily to do so. Thirdly" by the fofeitures and othei penalties which those unforfunate individuals incur

-.who artempt unsuccessfully to evade the tax, it may frequently ruin them, and thereby pur dn end to the benefit which the community might have recbived from the ernploy- ment of their capitals. An injudicious tax offers a great temptation to smuggling. But the penalties of smuggling must rise in pronortion 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 comrnonly enhadces the punishment too in proportion to rhe very circumstance which ought certainly to alleviate it, the remptation to commit the crime. Fourthly, by subjecting the people tc the.frequent visits, and the odious examination 6f ,1ra 3ax-gatheters, it may e*pose them to tu.h unnecessary trouble, vexation, and oppres- sion;.and though vexation is not, strictly speaking, €xpence, it is certainly equivilent to

THE \X/EATTH OF NATIONS 551

the expence at which every rnan would be willing to redeem himself from ic. Ic is in sorne one or other of these four different ways that taxes are frequencly so much more burden-

{Eng )^{,rg) sorne to the peop'le than they are beneficial to the sovereign'

:_""**.":*: -_.". .."_,::

:: CHAPTER III

..:

. 0f Pablick Debts .:.

. . . A coirntry abounding with merchdnts and manufaccurers, necessdrily abounds with a set of people through whose hands.not only their own capitals, buc'the c'apitals of all those who either lend rhem mbney, or crust them with joods, pass as frequently, or more fre- '. quently, than the revenue of a private rnan, who,.withput trade or busihess, lives upon his incornei pirsses rhrough his hands, The revJnue of such a man gan tellirlaill.pass through .

. his hand.s only onte in a y;S. But ihe whole amount of the capital and creil[t of a mei- .h"nt, who deals ih a tiadi of which.th6 returns

^re very qui.k, !m"y sometirnes f,ass

through'his hands rwo, thfee, or fourrtimes in a year. A counuy abotrnding with mer- chantsand'manufacturers, therefori, necessarily ibounds with a set of people who have it at all tirnes in their power io advance, if they chuse to do so, a very large sum of money

.. to goverrirnent. Henie the abitity in the subjects of a cornmercial state to lend.' Co--erce and manufactures can seidom.flourish loirg in any siate which does not

enjoy a regular adrninistiation of iustice, in which. the people do. not feel themselves ,".,ri. in'the possession of their pjop€rry'- in which the faith of iont;1ctg is not supported

. by law, and in which the adthority. of the state is not supposed to be-tegglarly ernployed' in enforcing rhe payr-r.rent of debts from'all those who are able to pay. Commerce and ma.n- ufacrurei, in shoit, can seldorn flourish in any state in which there is not a certain degree ' of confidince in th€ justice of government. The same confidence which dispo.ses great meichcntii and manufacturers, upon ordinary occasions, to trus[ their property to th'e pro- tectioh of a lnrtictrlar goveinment; disposes them, ulron extraordinaiy occasions, to trust that goveinment *irh the use of their propefry By'lending money'tbgoverhmeng; th.y .. do noi even for.a'riioment diminish their ability to-carry oR their trade and manufactures. . On the ionrrary, they commonly augment ir. The nicessities of thg state.render govern- ment uidn most occasions willing td biitrow ulron ternis ex-tremely'advantageous to the' lender. .The security which it grants tg the original ceditor,'it -"d! transferable to any other ciUditor, and, from the universal confidence.in the iusqice of thi stirt;, genirdlypetts in the rnarkec for more than was originally paid foi it, The merglrant or monied rnari

makes,money by lending money lo govgrr.rmertt,.and'instead qf diriitrishing, increases his trading tapiqd.-He geniralty ionsideis it as a favo4 theiefore, whLn'the administration admits hirn to share in ihb first subscription for a new loan.. Hence the inclination or will- ingnbss.in the subjects of e commercial state to'lend. . .

The.governmenr of such a state is very apt to repose itself upon ihis ability and will- ' ' ingnes$ of its.subjects to lend it their money on extraordinary octasions. It foiesees the facility of borrowing; and therefore dispenses itself from the duty of.saving.

. In a *de srece oF.s.ociery there "r. ti6 gr."t,rnercantile or manufaituring capitals. The

individrrals who hoard whatever intrney they:can save, and who concbal their hoaid, do so from a disuusr of the justice ofgovernment;from afeat thilif it wis known that they ild . a hoard, and where that hoard s'as to be found, they would quickli be plundered. In such a stare.of, things few people would be able, and nobody would be. willing, to lend theg monef.ry government on extraordinary exigencies. The sovereign feels that he must provide.

344

sacerdotal, noble, bourgCois, and, in the end, when all the other classes haJ be.p6 used up, of a bureaucratic class. The State descends ffises up, depending upon how you look at it,

-into the cp\dition o1 a machin"I ff i, absoluiely

necessary for its weffar\ that there be some privileged class interested in its existen&. and it is precisely the solidary interest of this privileged\lass that *[ *iI iit iotism.

ANARCEISM

settled down in England after his release, wrote many books and became a well-known and respected member of the com- munity. He moved to Russia following the RevoluUon in rgrT and, disillusioned by Bolshevism, died there in r9zr.

With all anarchists, Kropotkin believed that man is good and that external authority is evil. He differed from the main body of anarchists in his emphasis on the natural solidarity, as contrasted with the natural individualism, of men. This instinct is the subject of his best known work, Mutual Aid., It was Kropotkin's deepest hope that a way could be found to bring city and country, factory and farm, into a harmonious working relationship. He was open-minded as to the means, insisting only that the state had to be abolished before any other measures could be undertaken.

Mutual AirC originally appeared in the British magazine Nineteenth Centurg in occasional issues between r89o and r896.

Muruer- Am (1889-95)

MI/TUAL AID AMONG ANIMALS

The conception of struggle for existence as a factor of evo- lution, introduced into science by Darwin and Wallace, has permitted us to embrace an immensely-wide range of phe- nomena in one single generalization, which soon became the very basis of our philosophical, biological, and sociological speculations. An immense variety of facts:-adaptations of function and structure of organic beings to their surroundings; physiological and anatomical evolution; intellectual progress, and moral development itself, which we formerly used to ex- plain by so many di-fferent causes, were embodied by Darwin in one general conception. We understood them as continued endeavours-as a struggle against adverse circumstances-for such a development of individuals, races, species and societies, as would result in the greatest possible fulness, variety, and intensity of life. It may be that at the outset Darwin himselJ was not fully aware of the generality of the factor which he ffrst invoked for explaining one series only of facts relative to

SOCIALIST TEOUGST 345

I fl

$ '2 {

PETER KROPOTKTN (1342_1921)

After Bakunin's death in 1876 anarchism presented a ter- rifying aspect to the world. In the r88os and ,gos no statesman in Europe and America was safe from attack. The anarchist ethic of individualism permitted acts of violence by persons, a-s distinguished from those by governments-violence all the more terrilying for its ,r.rptedictrbility, Though the 'propagandists of the deed" were small in numbei even among anarchists, and completely disorganized-for anarch- ists never worked well together-they gave the movement as a whole a bad name. Only a man possessing the sim- nligrty of faith and high moral integrity of a peter Kropotkin, Bakunin's successor as the leading exponent of anaichism, could have won the respect of the non-anarchist world. The qualities evident in his person as well as in his voluminous writings carried his influence well beyond the tiny circle of his followers.

Like Bakunin, Kropotkin was a Russian aristocrat, a prince, who threw up his privileges because his love of humanity would not allow him to abide Czarist tyranny. He was a ffrst-rate geologist and naturalist, which may be the reason he later made it one of his chief tasks to reconcile Darwinism and anarcho-communism. The turning point in his revolu- tionary career came in t87z when, in Switzerland, he fell under Bakunin's influence, though he never joined the older man in conspiratorial activities. Kropotkin actively propa- gandized for anarchism, especially in France, where he spent several years in jail, though he never committed or sanctioned violence, Like so many other revolutionists before him, he

il $

_{ 346 socrAlrsr rHoucET the accumulation of individual variations in incipient species. But he foresaw that the term which he was introducing into science would lose its philosophical and its only true meaning if it were to be used in its narrow sense only-that of a struggle between separate individuals for the sheer means of existence. And at the very beginning of his memorable work he insisted upon the term being taken in its 'large and metaphorical sense including dependence of one being on another, and in- cluding (which is more important) not only the life of the individual, but success in leaving plogeny."

Whiie he himself was chiefly using the term in its narrow sense for his own special purpose, he warned his followers against committing the error (which he seems once to have committed himself) of overrating its narrow meaning. In The Descent of Man he gave some powerful pages to illustrate its proper, wide sense, He pointed out how, in numberless animal societies, the struggle between separate individuals fuf the means of existence disappears, how s.truggle is replaced by co-operation, and how that substitution results in the devel: opment of intellectual and moral faculties which secure to th-e species the best conditions for survival. He intimated that in such cases the ffttest are not the physically strongest, nor the cunningest, but those who lea,rn to combine so as mutually to support each other, strong and weak alike, for the welfare"of the community.""Those communities," he wrote, "which in- cluded the greatest number of the most sympathetic merql'bess would flourish best, and rear the greatest number of ofispring," The term, which originated from the narrow Malthusian con- ception of competition between each and all, thus lost its narrowness in the mind of one who knew Nature,

Unhappily, these remarks, which might have become the basis of most fruitful researches, were overshadolved by the masses of facts gathered for the purpose of illustrating the consequences of a real competition for life. Besides, Darwin never attempted to submit to a closer investigation the relative importance of the two aspects under which the stmggle for existence appears in the animal world, and he never wrote the work he proposed to write upon the natural checks to over-multiplication, although that work would have been the

ANAncFrsM 847 crucial test for appreciating the real purport of individual struggle. Nay, on the very pages just mentioned, amidst data disproving the narrow Malthusian conception of struggle, the old Malthusian leaven reappeared-namely, in Darwin's re- marks as to the alleged inconveniences of maintaining the 'weak in mind and body''in our civilized societies (ch. v.). As if thousands of weak-bodied and inffrm poets, scientists, inventors, and reformers, together with other thousands of so-called 'Tools" and "weak-minded enthusiasts," were not the most precious weapons used by humanity in its struggle for existence by intellecfual and moral arms, which Darwin himself emphasized in those same chapters ol Descent of Man,

It happened with Darwin's theory as it always happens with theories having any bearing upon human relations. Instead of widening it according to his own hints, his followers nar- rowed it still more. And while Herbert Spencer, starting on independent but closely-allied lines, attempted to widen the inqury into that gleat question, "Who are the ffttest?" espe- cially in the appendix to the third edition of, the Data of Ethi.cs, the numberless followers of Darwin reduced the notion of struggle for existence to its narrowest limits. They came to conceive the animal world as a world of perpetual struggle among half-starved individuals, thirsting for one anothet's blood. They made modem literature resound with the war- uy of. woe to the oanquished, as if it were the last word of modern biology. They raised the "pitiless" struggle for per sonal advantages to the height of a biological principle'which man must submit to as well, under the menace of otherwise suco.rmbing in a world based upon mutual extermination. Leaving aside the economists who know of natural science but a few words borrowed from second-hand vulgarizers, we must recognize that even tfre most authorized exponents of Darwin's views did their best to maintain those false ideas.

MUTUAI. AID AMONG OI/RSELVES

'The mutual-aid tendency in man has so'remote an origin, and is so deeply interwoven with all the past evolution of the

348 socrAlrsr rHoucET human race, that it has- been maintained by mankind up to the present time, notwithstanding all vicissitudes of history. it was chiefly evolved during neriods of peace

"rrd prorp"iity;

but when even the greatesicalamities beiell men_when whole :countries were laid waste by wars, and whole populations were decimated by misery, or groaned under the yof.i of tyr_ anny-tle same tendency continued to live in the

"lllages arrd

emgng the- poorer classes in the towns; it still kept ti'e* to- F:.,1:"

and in the long run it reacted even upon tlose ruling 'iighting, and devastating minorities which diimissed it as sei- timental nonsense. And whenever mankind had to work out a new social organization, adapted to a new phasis of de_ velopment, its constructi.n" g"rriu, always drew the elements and the inspiration for the new departure from that same ever_ Iiving tendency.iNew economical and social institutions, in so far as they were a creation of the masses, new ethical .yrt"*r, and new religions, all have originated from the same source, and the ethical progress of our race, viewed in its broad lines, fppears as 'a

,gradual extension of the mufual-aid principles from the

_tribe to always larger and Iarger agglom.otiorrr, ,o as to ffnally embrace one day the whole of riinkind, without respect to its divers creeds, languages, and races. . Afte_r having passed througlr, the savage tribe, and next

through the village community, the Europ"eans came to work out in medieval times a new form of organization, which had the advantage of allowing great latitudJ for individual initia- tive, while it largely responded at the same time to man s need of mufual support. A federation of village communities, covered by a network of guilds and fraterniiies, was called into existence in the medieval cities. The immense results achieved under this new form of union-in well-being f",

"fiin industries, art, science, and commerce-were discussed ai some length in two preceding chapters, and an attempt was also made to show why, towards th1 end of the fffteenth

""rr_!ry,- th9 medieval republics-surrounded by domains of hos- tile feudal lords, unable to free the peasanis from servitude, and gradually corrupted by ideas of Roman Cesarism_were doomed to become a prey to the growing military States.

However, before submitting for thr.ee centuries to come, to

ANARoHISM 349

the all-absorbing authority of the State, the masses of the people made a formidable attempt at reconstructing society on the old basis of mutual aid and support. It is well known by this time that the gleat movement of the reform was not a mere revolt against the abuses of the Catholic Church. It had its constructive ideal as well, and that ideal was life in free, brotherly communities. Those of the early writings and ser- mons of the period which found most response with the masses were imbued with ideas of the economical and social brotherhood of mankind. The "Twelve Articles" and similar professions of faith, which were circulated among the German and Swiss peasants and artisans, maintained not only every onqb 11ghllg _i9-tp-1p1et the Bible according to his own under- standing, but also included the de-qan-d of eemmunal Iands being restored to the village communities and feudal servi- tudes being abolished, and they always alluded to the--!rud' faith-a faith of brotherhood. At the same time scores of thou- sd"as dt men aird women joined the communist fraternities of Moravia, giving them all their fortune and living in numerous and prosperous settlements conshucted upon the principles of communism. Only wholesale massacres by the thousand could put a stop to this widely-spread popular movement, and it was by the sword, the ffre, and the rack that the young States secured their ffrst and decisive victory over the masses of the people.

For the next three centuries the States, both on the Conti- nent and in these islands, systematically weeded out all insti- tutions in which the mutual-aid tendency had formerly found its expression. The village communities were bereft of their folkmotes, their courts and independent administration; their lands were conffscated, The guilds were spoliated of their pos- sessions and liberties, and placed under tle control, the fancy, and the bribery of the State's oficial. The cities were divested of their sovereignty, and the very springs of their inner life- the folkmotq the elected justices and administration, the sov- ereign parish and the sovereign guild-were annihilated; the

i_Stute'r functionary took posse.s;ion of every link of what for- merly was an organic whole. iUnder that fatal policy and the wars it engendered, whole regions, once populous and

35O socrAr-rsT TsoucET wealthy, were laid bare; rich cities became insigniffcant bor- oughs; the very roads which connected them with other cities became impracticable. Industry, art, and knowledge fell into decay. Political educaUon, science, and law were rendered subservient to the idea of State centralization. It was taught in the Universities and from the pulpit that the institutions in which men formerly used to embody their needs of mutual support could not be tolerated in a properly organized State; that the State alone could represent the bonds of union be- tween its subiects; that federalism and "particularism" were the enemies of progress, and the State was the only proper initiator of further development. By the end of the last century the kings on the Continen! the Parliament in these isles, and the revolutionary Convention in France, although they were at war with each other, agreed in asserting that no separate unions between citizens must exist within the State; that hard labor and death were the only suitable punishments to work- ers who dared to enter into "coalitions." 'No state within the Statel" The State alone, and the State's Church, must take care of matters of general interest, while the subjects must repre- sent loose aggregations of individuals, connected by no par- ticular bonds, bound to appeal to the Government each time that they feel a common need. Up to the middle of this cen- tury this was the theory and practice in Europe. Even com- mercial and industrial societies were looked at with suspicion. As to the workers, their unions were treated as unlawful al- most within our own lifetime in this counky and within the last twenty years on the Continent. The whole system of our State education was such that up to the present time, even in this country, a notable portion of society would treat as a revolutionary measure the concession of such rights as every one, freeman or serf, exercised ffve hun&ed years ago in the village folkmote, the guild, the parish, and the city.

I The absorption of all social functions by the State neces- sarily favoured the development of an unbridled, narrow- minded individualism. In proportion as the obligations towards the State grew in numbers the citizens were evidently relieved from their obligations towards each other.rln the guild-and in medieval times every man belonged io to-" guild or

ANAR0ETsM 951 fraternify-two *brothers" were bound to watch in turns a brother who had fallen ill; it would be sufficient now to give one's neighbour the address of the next paupers'hospital. In barbarian society, to assist at a ffght between two men, arisen from a quarrel, and not to prevent it from taking a fatal issue, meant to be oneself treated as a murderer; but under the theory of the all-protecting State the bystander need not in- hude: it is the policemans business to interferg or not. And while in a savage land, among the Hottentots, it would be scandalous to eat without having loudly called out thrice whether there is not somebody wanting to share the food, all that a respectable citizen has to do now is to pay the poor tax and to let the stawing starve$he result is, that the theory which maintains that men can, qnd must, seel< their o fl-Lap- p-iness in a dlsrygard of other people's wants is now trium- phant all round-in law, in science, in religion) It is the religion of the day, and to doubt of its efficacy is to be a dangerous Utopian. Science loudly proclaims that the struggle of each against all is the leading principle of nature, and of human societies as well. To that struggle Biology ascribes the pro- gressive evolution of the animal world, History takes the same line of argument; and political economists, and their naive ig- norance, trace all progress of modern industry and machinery to the "wonderful" effects of the same principle. The very religion of the pulpit is a religion of individualism, slightly mitigated by more or less charitable relations to one's neigh- bours, chiefly on Sundays. "Practical" men and theorists, men of science and religious preachers, lawyers and politicians, aU agree upon one thing-that individualism may be more or less softened in its harshest effects by charity, but that it is the only secure basis for the maintenance of society and its ulterior progress.

It seems, therefore, hopeless to look for mutual-aid institu- tions and practices in modern society. What could remain of them? And yet, as soon as we try to ascertain how the millions of human beings live, and begin to study their everyday re- lations, we are struck with the immense part which the mutual-aid and mufual-support principles play even now- a-days in human life. Although the destruction of mutual-aid

lft

t 353 \

ii 352 SOCIAIIST TgOUGST

institutions has-been going on in practice and theory, for full three or {our hundred years, hundreds of millions of men con- tinue to live under such institutions; they piously maintain them and endeavour to reconstitute them where they have ceased to exist, In our mutual relations every one of us has his moments of revolt against the fashionable individualistic creed of the day, and actions in which men are guided by their mutual-aid inclinations constitute so great a part of our daily intercourse that if a stop to such actions could be put all further ethical progress would be stopped at once. Human society itself could not be maintained for even so much as the lifetime of one single generation. These facts, mostly neglected by sociologists and yet of the ffrst importance for the life and fwther elevation of mankind, we are now going to analyze, beginning with the standing institutions of mutual support, and passing next to those acts of mutual aid which have their origin in personal or social sympathies. .

. . . It is especially in the domain of ethics that the domi- nating importance of the mutual-aid principle appears in full. That mutual aid is the real foundation of our ethical con- ceptions seems evident enough. But whatever the opinions as to the ffrst origin of the mutual-aid feeling or instinct may be-whether a biological or a supernafural cause is ascribed to it-we must trace its existence as far back as to the lowest stages of the animal world; and from these stages we can follow its uninternrpted evolution, in opposition to a number of contrary agencies, through all degrees of human develop- ment, up to the present times. Even the new religions which were born from time to time-always at epochs when the mutual-aid principle was falling into decay in the theocracies and despotic States of the East, or at the decline of the Roman Empire---even the new religions have only reaffirmed that same principle. They found their ffrst supporters among the humble, in the lowest, down-hodden layers of society, where the mutual-aid principle is the necessary foundation of every- day life; and the new fonns of union which were introduced

A}IANCHISM

in the earliest Buddhist and Christian communities, in the Moravian brotherhoods and so on, took the character of a return to the best aspects of mutual aid in early tribal life.

Each time, however, lhat an attempt to return to this old principle was made, its fundamental idea itself was widened. From the clan it was extended to the stem, to the federation of stems, to the nation, and ffnally-in ideal, at least-to the whole of manl<ind. It was also reffned at the same time. In primitive Buddhism, in primitive Christianity, in the writings of some of the Mussulman teachers, in the early movements of the Reform, and especially in the ethical and philosophical movements of the last centwy and of our own times, the total abandonment of the idea of revenge, or of "due reward"-of good for good and evil for evil-is afrrmed more and more vigorously. The higher conception of 'ho revenge for wrongs," and of freely giving more than one expects to receive from his neighbours, is proclaimed as being the real principle of morality-a principle superior to mere equivalence, equity, or justice, and more conducive to happiness. And man is ap- pealed to to be guicled in bis acts, not merely by love, which is always personal, or at the best tribal, but by the perception of his oneness with each human being. In the practice of mu- fual aid, which we can retrace to the earliest beginnings of evolution, we thus ffnd the positive and undoubted origin of our ethical conceptions; and we can affirm that in the ethical progress of man, mufual support-not mutual struggle-has had the leading part. In its wide extension, even at the present time, we also see the best guarantee of a still loftier evolution of our race.

SYNDICALISM

French trade unionists shaped the dochine of syndicalism between r8g5 and World War I in protest against the en- croachments of the state on the one hand and the growing tendency toward reformism within the socialist movement on the other. Despite its novel form, the protest kept faith with tradition. The anarchism of Proudhon and Bakunin had de-

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