THOUGHTS AND DETAILS ON SCARCITY.

OF all things, an indiſcreet tampering with the trade of proviſions is the moſt dangerous, and it is always worſt in the time when men are moſt diſpoſed to it:—that is, in the time of ſcarcity. Becauſe there is nothing on which the paſſions of men are ſo violent, and their judgment ſo weak, and on which there exiſts ſuch a multitude of ill-founded popular prejudices.

The great uſe of Government is as a reſtraint; and there is no reſtraint which it ought to put upon others, and upon itſelf too, rather than on the fury of ſpeculating under circumſtances of irrita⯑tion. The number of idle tales ſpread about by the induſtry of faction, and by the zeal of fooliſh [2] good-intention, and greedily devoured by the ma⯑lignant credulity of mankind, tends infinitely to ag⯑gravate prejudices, which, in themſelves, are more than ſufficiently ſtrong. In that ſtate of affairs, and of the publick with relation to them, the firſt thing that Government owes to us, the people, is information; the next is timely coercion:—the one to guide our judgment; the other to regulate our tempers.

To provide for us in our neceſſities is not in the power of Government. It would be a vain pre⯑ſumption in ſtateſmen to think they can do it. The people maintain them, and not they the people. It is in the power of Government to prevent much evil; it can do very little poſitive good in this, or perhaps in any thing elſe. It is not only ſo of the ſtate and ſtateſman, but of all the claſſes and deſcriptions of the Rich—they are the penſioners of the poor, and are maintained by their ſuperfluity. They are under an abſolute, hereditary, and indefeaſible dependance on thoſe who labour, and are miſcalled the Poor.

The labouring people are only poor, becauſe they are numerous. Numbers in their nature im⯑ply poverty. In a fair diſtribution among a vaſt multitude, none can have much. That claſs of de⯑pendant penſioners called the rich, is ſo extremely [3] ſmall, that if all their throats were cut, and a diſtri⯑bution made of all they conſume in a year, it would not give a bit of bread and cheeſe for one night's ſupper to thoſe who labour, and who in reality feed both the penſioners and themſelves.

But the throats of the rich ought not to be cut, nor their magazines plundered; becauſe, in their perſons they are truſtees for thoſe who labour, and their hoards are the banking-houſes of theſe latter. Whether they mean it or not, they do, in effect, execute their truſt—ſome with more, ſome with leſs fidelity and judgment. But on the whole, the duty is performed, and every thing returns, de⯑ducting ſome very trifling commiſſion and diſ⯑count, to the place from whence it aroſe. When the poor riſe to deſtroy the rich, they act as wiſely for their own purpoſes as when they burn mills, and throw corn into the river, to make bread cheap.

When I ſay, that we of the people ought to be informed, incluſively I ſay, we ought not to be flattered: flattery is the reverſe of inſtruction. The poor in that caſe would be rendered as impro⯑vident as the rich, which would not be at all good for them.

Nothing can be ſo baſe and ſo wicked as the political canting language, "The Labouring [4] Poor." Let compaſſion be ſhewn in action, the more the better, according to every man's ability, but let there be no lamentation of their condition. It is no relief to their miſerable circumſtances; it is only an inſult to their miſerable underſtandings. It ariſes from a total want of charity, or a total want of thought Want of one kind was never relieved by want of any other kind. Patience, labour, ſo⯑briety, frugality, and religion, ſhould be recom⯑mended to them; all the reſt is downright fraud. It is horrible to call them "The once happy la⯑bourer."

Whether what may be called moral or philoſo⯑phical happineſs of the laborious claſſes is in⯑creaſed or not, I cannot ſay. The ſeat of that ſpecies of happineſs is in the mind; and there are few data to aſcertain the comparative ſtate of the mind at any two periods. Philoſophical hap⯑pineſs is to want little. Civil or vulgar happineſs is to want much, and to enjoy much.

If the happineſs of the animal man (which cer⯑tainly goes ſomewhere towards the happineſs of the rational man) be the object of our eſtimate, then I aſſert, without the leaſt heſitation, that the condi⯑tion of thoſe who labour (in all deſcriptions of la⯑bour, and in all gradations of labour, from the higheſt to the loweſt incluſively) is on the whole ex⯑tremely [5] meliorated, if more and better food is any ſtandard of melioration. They work more, it is certain; but they have the advantage of their aug⯑mented labour; yet whether that increaſe of labour be on the whole a good or an evil, is a conſideration that would lead us a great way, and is not for my preſent purpoſe. But as to the fact of the melio⯑ration of their diet, I ſhall enter into the detail of proof whenever I am called upon: in the mean time, the known difficulty of contenting them with any thing but bread made of the fineſt flour, and meat of the firſt quality, is proof ſufficient.

I further aſſert, that even under all the hard⯑ſhips of the laſt year, the labouring people did, either out of their direct gains, or from charity, (which it ſeems is now an inſult to them) in fact, fare better than they did, in ſeaſons of common plenty, 50 or 60 years ago; or even at the period of my Engliſh obſervation, which is about 44 years. I even aſſert, that full as many in that claſs, as ever were known to do it before, continued to ſave money; and this I can prove, ſo far as my own information and experience extend.

It is not true that the rate of wages has not en⯑creaſed with the nominal price of proviſions. I al⯑low it has not fluctuated with that price, nor ought it; and the Squires of Norfolk had dined, when [6] they gave it as their opinion, that it might or ought to riſe and fall with the market of proviſions. The rate of wages in truth has no direct relation to that price. Labour is a commodity like every other, and riſes or falls according to the demand. This is in the nature of things; however, the nature of things has provided for their neceſſities. Wages have been twice raiſed in my time, and they bear a full proportion, or even a greater than formerly, to the medium of proviſion during the laſt bad cycle of twenty years. They bear a full proportion to the reſult of their labour. If we were wildly to attempt to force them beyond it, the ſtone which we had forced up the hill would only fall back upon them in a diminiſhed demand, or, what in⯑deed is the far leſſer evil, an aggravated price of all the proviſions, which are the reſult of their manual toil.

There is an implied contract, much ſtronger than any inſtrument or article of agreement, be⯑tween the labourer in any occupation and his em⯑ployer—that the labour, ſo far as that labour is concerned, ſhall be ſufficient to pay to the em⯑ployer a profit on his capital, and a compenſation for his riſk; in a word, that the labour ſhall pro⯑duce an advantage equal to the payment. What⯑ever is above that, is a direct tax; and if the [7] amount of that tax be left to the will and pleaſure of another, it is an arbitrary tax.

If I underſtand it rightly, the tax propoſed on the farming intereſt of this kingdom, is to be le⯑vied at what is called the diſcretion of juſtices of peace.

The queſtions ariſing on this ſcheme of arbi⯑trary taxation are theſe—Whether it is better to leave all dealing, in which there is no force or fraud, colluſion or combination, entirely to the perſons mutually concerned in the matter con⯑tracted for; or to put the contract into the hands of thoſe, who can have none, or a very remote in⯑tereſt in it, and little or no knowledge of the ſub⯑ject.

It might be imagined that there would be very little difficulty in ſolving this queſtion; for what man, of any degree of reflection, can think, that a want of intereſt in any ſubject cloſely connected with a want of ſkill in it, qualifies a perſon to intermeddle in any the leaſt affair; much leſs in affairs that vi⯑tally concern the agriculture of the kingdom, the firſt of all it's concerns, and the foundation of all it's proſperity in every other matter, by which that proſperity is produced?

[8]The vulgar error on this ſubject ariſes from a to⯑tal confuſion in the very idea of things widely dif⯑ferent in themſelves;—thoſe of convention, and thoſe of judicature. When a contract is making, it is a matter of diſcretion and of intereſt between the parties. In that intercourſe, and in what is to ariſe from it, the parties are the maſters. If they are not completely ſo, they are not free, and there⯑fore their contracts are void.

But this freedom has no farther extent, when the contract is made; then their diſcretionary powers expire, and a new order of things takes it's origin. Then, and not till then, and on a difference be⯑tween the parties, the office of the judge com⯑mences. He cannot dictate the contract. It is his buſineſs to ſee that it be enforced; provided that it is not contrary to pre-exiſting laws, or ob⯑tained by force or fraud. If he is in any way a maker or regulator of the contract, in ſo much he is diſqualified from being a judge. But this ſort of confuſed diſtribution of adminiſtrative and judicial characters, (of which we have already as much as is ſufficient, and a little more) is not the only per⯑plexity of notions and paſſions which trouble us in the preſent hour.

What is doing, ſuppoſes or pretends that the far⯑mer [9] and the labourer have oppoſite intereſts;—that the farmer oppreſſes the labourer; and that a gen⯑tleman called a juſtice of peace, is the protector of the latter, and a controul and reſtraint on the for⯑mer; and this is a point I wiſh to examine in a manner a good deal different from that in which gentlemen proceed, who confide more in their abi⯑lities than is fit, and ſuppoſe them capable of more than any natural abilities, fed with no other than the provender furniſhed by their own private ſpe⯑culations, can accompliſh. Legiſlative acts, at⯑tempting to regulate this part of oeconomy, do, at leaſt, as much as any other, require the exacteſt de⯑tail of circumſtances, guided by the ſureſt general principles that are neceſſary to direct experiment and enquiry, in order again from thoſe details to elicit principles, firm and luminous general prin⯑ciples, to direct a practical legiſlative proceeding.

Firſt, then, I deny that it is in this caſe, as in any other of neceſſary implication, that contracting parties ſhould originally have had different inte⯑reſts. By accident it may be ſo undoubtedly at the outſet; but then the contract is of the nature of a compromiſe; and compromiſe is founded on cir⯑cumſtances that ſuppoſe it the intereſt of the par⯑ties to be reconciled in ſome medium. The prin⯑ciple of compromiſe adopted, of conſequence the intereſts ceaſe to be different.

[10]But in the caſe of the farmer and the labourer, their intereſts are always the ſame, and it is abſo⯑lutely impoſſible that their free contracts can be onerous to either party. It is the intereſt of the farmer, that his work ſhould be done with effect and celerity: and that cannot be, unleſs the la⯑bourer is well fed, and otherwiſe found with ſuch neceſſaries of animal life, according to it's habi⯑tudes, as may keep the body in full force, and the mind gay and cheerful. For of all the inſtruments of his trade, the labour of man (what the ancient writers have called the inſtrumentum vocale) is that on which he is moſt to rely for the re-payment o [...] hss capital. The other two, the ſemivocale in the ancient claſſification, that is, the working ſtock of cattle, and the inſtrumentum mutum, ſuch as carts, ploughs, ſpades, and ſo forth, though not all in⯑conſiderable in themſelves, are very much inferiour in utility or in expence; and without a given por⯑tion of the firſt, are nothing at all. For in all things whatever, the mind is the moſt valuable and the moſt important; and in this ſcale the whole of agriculture is in a natural and juſt order; the beaſt is as an informing principle to the plough and cart; the labourer is as reaſon to the beaſt; and the farmer is as a thinking and preſiding principle to the labourer. An attempt to break this chain of ſubordination in any part is equally abſurd; but the abſurdity is the moſt miſchievous in prac⯑tical [11] operation, where it is the moſt eaſy, that is, where it is the moſt ſubject to an erroneous judg⯑ment.

It is plainly more the farmer's intereſt that his men ſhould thrive, than that his horſes ſhould be well fed, ſleek, plump, and fit for uſe, or than that his waggon and ploughs ſhould be ſtrong, in good repair, and fit for ſervice.

On the other hand, if the farmer ceaſes to profit of the labourer, and that his capital is not continu⯑ally manured and fructified, it is impoſſible that he ſhould continue that abundant nutriment, and cloathing, and lodging, proper for the protection of the inſtruments he employs

It is therefore the firſt and fundamental intereſt of the labourer, that the farmer ſhould have a full incoming profit on the product of his labour. The propoſition is ſelf-evident, and nothing but the ma⯑lignity, perverſeneſs, and ill-governed paſſions of mankind, and particularly the envy they bear to each other's proſperity, could prevent their ſeeing and acknowledging it, with thankfulneſs to the be⯑nign and wiſe diſpoſer of all things, who obliges men, whether they will or not, in purſuing their own ſelfiſh intereſts, to connect the general good with their own individual ſucceſs.

[12]But who are to judge what that profit and ad⯑vantage ought to be? certainly no authority on earth. It is a matter of convention dictated by the reciprocal conveniences of the parties, and in⯑deed by their reciprocal neceſſities.—But, if the farmer is exceſſively avaricious?—why ſo much the better—the more he deſires to increaſe his gains, the more intereſted is he in the good condi⯑tion of thoſe, upon whoſe labour his gains muſt principally depend.

I ſhall be told by the zealots of the ſect of re⯑gulation, that this may be true, and may be ſafely committed to the convention of the farmer and the labourer, when the latter is in the prime of his youth, and at the time of his health and vigour, and in ordinary times of abundance. But in cala⯑misous ſeaſons, under accidental illneſs, in declin⯑ing life, and with the preſſure of a numerous off⯑ſpring, the future nouriſhers of the community but the preſent drains and blood-ſuckers of thoſe who produce them, what is to be done? When a man cannot live and maintain his family by the natural hire of his labour, ought it not to be raiſed by au⯑thority?

On this head I muſt be allowed to ſubmit, what my opinions have ever been; and ſomewhat at large.

[13]And, firſt, I premiſe that labour is, as I have al⯑ready intimated, a commodity, and as ſuch, an ar⯑ticle of trade. If I am right in this notion, then labour muſt be ſubject to all the laws and princi⯑ples of trade, and not to regulations foreign to them, and that may be totally inconſiſtent with thoſe prin⯑ciples and thoſe laws. When any commodity is carried to market, it is not the neceſſity of the vender, but the neceſſity of the purchaſer that raiſes the price. The extreme want of the ſeller has rather (by the nature of things with which we ſhall in vain contend) the direct contrary opera⯑tion. If the goods at market are beyond the de⯑mand, they fall in their value; if below it, they riſe. The impoſſibility of the ſubſiſtence of a man, who carries his labour to a market, is totally beſide the queſtion in this way of viewing it. The only queſtion is, what is it worth to the buyer?

But if authority comes in and forces the buyer to a price, who is this in the caſe (ſay) of a far⯑mer, who buys the labour of ten or twelve labour⯑ing men, and three or four handycrafts, what is it, but to make an arbitrary diviſion of his property among them?

The whole of his gains, I ſay it with the moſt certain conviction, never do amount any thing like in value to what he pays to his labourers and [14] artificers; ſo that a very ſmall advance upon what one man pays to many, may abſorb the whole of what he poſſeſſes, and amount to an actual parti⯑tion of all his ſubſtance among them. A perfect equality will indeed be produced;—that is to ſay, equal want, equal wretchedneſs, equal beggary, and on the part of the partitioners, a woeful, help⯑leſs, and deſperate diſappointment. Such is the event of all compulſory equalizations. They pull down what is above. They never raiſe what is be⯑low: and they depreſs high and low together be⯑neath the level of what was originally the loweſt.

If a commodity is raiſed by authority above what it will yield with a profit to the buyer, that commodity will be the leſs dealt in. If a ſecond blundering interpoſition be uſed to correct the blunder of the firſt, and an attempt is made to force the purchaſe of the commodity (of labour for inſtance), the one of theſe two things muſt hap⯑pen, either that the forced buyer is ruined, or the price of the product of the labour, in that propor⯑tion, is raiſed. Then the wheel turns round, and the evil complained of falls with aggravated weight on the complainant. The price of corn, which is the reſult of the expence of all the operations of huſbandry, taken together, and for ſome time con⯑tinued, will riſe on the labourer, conſidered as a conſumer. The very beſt will be, that he remains [15] where he was. But if the price of the corn ſhould not compenſate the price of labour, what is far more to be feared, the moſt ſerious evil, the very deſtruc⯑tion of agriculture itſelf, is to be apprehended.

Nothing is ſuch an enemy to accuracy of judg⯑ment as a coarſe ditcrimination; a want of ſuch claſſification and diſtribution as the ſubject admits of. Encreaſe the rate of wages to the labourer, ſay the regulators—as if labour was but one thing and of one value. But this very broad generic term, labour, admits, at leaſt, of two or three ſpe⯑cific deſcriptions: and theſe will ſuffice, at leaſt, to let gentlemen diſcern a little the neceſſity of proceeding with caution in their coercive guidance of thoſe whoſe exiſtence depends upon the obſer⯑vance of ſtill nicer diſtinctions and ſub-diviſions, than commonly they reſort to in forming their judgments on this very enlarged part of economy.

The labourers in huſbandry may be divided: 1ſt. into thoſe who are able to perform the full work of a man; that is, what can be done by a perſon from twenty-one years of age to fifty. I know no huſbandry work (mowing hardly excepted) that is not equally within the power of all perſons within thoſe ages, the more advanced fully compenſating by knack and habit what they loſe in activity. Un⯑queſtionably, there is a good deal of difference [16] between the value of one man's labour and that of another, from ſtrength, dexterity, and honeſt appli⯑cation. But I am quite ſure, from my beſt obſerva⯑tion, that any given five men will, in their total, afford a proportion of labour equal to any other five within the periods of life I have ſtated; that is, that among ſuch five men there will be one poſſeſſing all the qualifications of a good workman, one bad, and the other three middling, and approximating to the firſt and the laſt. So that in ſo ſmall a platoon as that of even five, you will find the full complement of all that five men can earn. Taking five and five throughout the kingdom, they are equal: therefore, an error with regard to the equa⯑lization of their wages by thoſe who employ five, as farmers do at the very leaſt, cannot be conſi⯑derable.

2dly. Thoſe who are able to work, but not the complete taſk of a day-labourer. This claſs is in⯑finitely diverſified, but will aptly enough fall into principal diviſions. Men, from the decline, which after fifty becomes every year more ſenſible, to the period of debility and decrepitude, and the maladies that precede a final diſſolution. Women, whoſe employment on huſbandry is but occaſional, and who differ more in effective labour one from another than men do, on account of geſtation, nurſing, and domeſtic management, over and above [17] the difference they have in common with men in advancing, in ſtationary, and in declining life. Children, who proceed on the reverſe order, grow⯑ing from leſs to greater utility, but with a ſtill greater diſproportion of nutriment to labour than is found in the ſecond of theſe ſub-diviſions; as is viſible to thoſe who will give themſelves the trou⯑ble of examining into the interior economy of a poor-houſe.

This inferior claſſification is introduced to ſhew, that laws preſcribing, or magiſtrates exerciſing, a very ſtiff, and often inapplicable rule, or a blind and raſh diſcretion, never can provide the juſt pro⯑portions between earning and ſalary on the one hand, and nutriment on the other: whereas in⯑tereſt, habit, and the tacit convention, that ariſe from a thouſand nameleſs circumſtances, produce a tact that regulates without difficulty, what laws and magiſtrates cannot regulate at all. The firſt claſs of labour wants nothing to equalize it; it equalizes itſelf. The ſecond and third are not capable of any equalization.

But what if the rate of hire to the labourer comes far ſhort of his neceſſary ſubſiſtence, and the calamity of the time is ſo great as to threaten actual famine? Is the poor labourer to be aban⯑doned to the flinty heart and griping hand of [18] baſe ſelf-intereſt, ſupported by the ſword of law, eſpecially when there is reaſon to ſuppoſe that the very avarice of farmers themſelves has concurred with the errors of Government to bring famine on the land.

In that caſe, my opinion is this. Whenever it happens that a man can claim nothing according to the rules of commerce, and the principles of juſtice, he paſſes out of that department, and comes within the juriſdiction of mercy. In that province the magiſtrate has nothing at all to do: his inter⯑ference is a violation of the property which it is his office to protect. Without all doubt, charity to the poor is a direct and obligatory duty upon all Chriſtians, next in order after the payment of debts, full as ſtrong, and by nature made infinitely more delightful to us. Puffendorf, and other caſuiſts do not, I think, denominate it quite pro⯑perly, when they call it a duty of imperfect obliga⯑tion. But the manner, mode, time, choice of ob⯑jects, and proportion, are left to private diſcretion; and perhaps, for that very reaſon it is performed with the greater ſatisfaction, becauſe the diſcharge of it has more the appearance of freedom; recom⯑mending us beſides very ſpecially to the divine favour, as the exerciſe of a virtue moſt ſuitable to a being ſenſible of it's own infirmity.

[19]The cry of he people in cities and towns, though unfortunately (from a fear of their multi⯑tude and combination) the moſt regarded, ought, in fact, to be the leaſt attended to upon this ſubject; for citizens are in a ſtate of utter ignorance of the means by which they are to be fed, and they contri⯑bute little or nothing, except in an infinitely circui⯑tous manner, to their own maintenance. They are truly "Fruges conſumere nati." They are to be heard with great reſpect and attention upon matters within their province, that is, on trades and manufactures; but on any thing that relates to agriculture, they are to be liſtened to with the ſame reverence which we pay to the dogmas of other ignorant and peſump⯑tuous men.

If any one were to tell them, that they were to give in an account of all the ſtock in their ſhops; that attempts would be made to limit their profits, or raiſe the price of the labouring manufacturers upon them, or recommend to Government, out of a capital from the publick revenues, to ſet up a ſhop of the ſame commodities, in order to rival them, and keep them to reaſonable dealing, they would very ſoon ſee the impudence, injuſtice, and oppreſ⯑ſion of ſuch a courſe. They would not be miſ⯑taken; but they are of opinion, that agriculture is to be ſubject to other laws, and to be governed by other principles.

[20]A greater and more ruinous miſtake cannot be fallen into, than that the trades of agriculture and grazing can be conducted upon any other than the common principles of commerce; namely, that the producer ſhould be permitted, and even expected, to look to all poſſible profit which, without fraud or violence, he can make; to turn plenty or ſcar⯑city to the beſt advantage he can; to keep back or to bring forward his commodities at his pleaſure; to account to no one for his ſtock or for his gain. On any other terms he is the ſlave of the conſumer; and that he ſhould be ſo is of no benefit to the con⯑ſumer. No ſlave was ever ſo beneficial to the maſ⯑ter as a freeman that deals with him on an equal footing by convention, formed on the rules and principles of contending intereſts and compromiſed advantages. The conſumer, if he were ſuffered, would in the end always be the dupe of his own tyranny and injuſtice. The landed gentleman is never to forget, that the farmer is his repreſen⯑tative.

It is a perilous thing to try experiments on the farmer. The farmer's capital (except in a few perſons, and in a very few places) is far more feeble than commonly is imagined. The trade is a very poor trade; it is ſubject to great riſks and loſſes. The capital, ſuch as it is, is turned but once in the year; in ſome branches it requires [21] three years before the money is paid. I believe never leſs than three in the turnip and graſs-land courſe, which is the prevalent courſe on the more or leſs fertile, ſandy and gravelly loams, and theſe compoſe the ſoil in the ſouth and ſouth-eaſt of England, the beſt adapted, and perhaps the only ones that are adapted, to the turnip huſbandry.

It is very rare that the moſt proſperous farmer, counting the value of his quick and dead ſtock, the intereſt of the money he turns, together with his own wages as a bailiff or overſeer, ever does make twelve or fifteen per centum by the year on his ca⯑pital. I ſpeak of the proſperous. In moſt of the parts of England which have fallen within my ob⯑ſervation, I have rarely known a farmer, who to his own trade has not added ſome other employ⯑ment or traffic, that, after a courſe of the moſt unremitting parſimony and labour (ſuch for the greater part is theirs), and perſevering in his buſi⯑neſs for a long courſe of years, died worth more than paid his debts, leaving his poſterity to con⯑tinue in nearly the ſame equal conflict between in⯑duſtry and want, in which the laſt predeceſſor, and a long line of predeceſſors before him, lived and died.

Obſerve that I ſpeak of the generality of farmers who have not more than from one hundred and [22] fifty to three or four hundred acres. There are few in this part of the country within the former, or much beyond the latter, extent. Unqueſtion⯑ably in other places there are much larger. But, I am convinced, whatever part of England be the theatre of his operations, a farmer who cultivates twelve hundred acres, which I conſider as a large farm, though I know there are larger, cannot pro⯑ceed, with any degree of ſafety and effect, with a ſmaller capital than ten thouſand pounds; and that he cannot, in the ordinary courſe of culture, make more upon that great capital of ten thouſand pounds, than twelve hundred a year.

As to the weaker capitals, an eaſy judgment may be formed by what very ſmall errors they may be farther attenuated, enervated, rendered unproduc⯑tive, and perhaps totally deſtroyed.

This conſtant precariouſneſs and ultimate mo⯑derate limits of a farmer's fortune, on the ſtrongeſt capital, I preſs, not only on account of the hazard⯑ous ſpeculations of the times, but becauſe the ex⯑cellent and moſt uſeful works of my friend, Mr. Arthur Young, tend to propagate that error (ſuch I am very certain it is, of the largeneſs of a far⯑mer's profits. It is not that his account of the produce does often greatly exceed, but he by no means makes the proper allowance for accidents [23] and loſſes. I might enter into a convincing detail, if other more troubleſome and more neceſſary de⯑tails were not before me.

This propoſed diſcretionary tax on labour militates with the recommendations of the Board of Agriculture: they recommend a general uſe of the drill culture. I agree with the Board, that where the ſoil is not exceſſively heavy, or incum⯑bered with large looſe ſtones (which however is the caſe with much otherwiſe good land), that courſe is the beſt, and moſt productive, provided that the moſt accurate eye; the moſt vigilant ſuper⯑intendance; the moſt prompt activity, which has no ſuch day as to-morrow in its calendar; the moſt ſteady foreſight and pre-diſpoſing order to have every body and every thing ready in it's place, and prepared to take advantage of the fortunate fugi⯑tive moment in this coquetting climate of ours— provided, I ſay, all theſe combine to ſpeed the plough, I admit its ſuperiority over the old and general methods. But under procraſtinating, im⯑provident, ordinary huſbandmen, who may neg⯑lect or let ſlip the few opportunities of ſweetening and purifying their ground with perpetually reno⯑vated toil, and undiſſipated attention, nothing, when tried to any extent, can be worſe, or more dangerous: the farm may be ruined, inſtead of having the ſoil enriched and ſweetened by it.

[24]But the excellence of the method on a proper ſoil, and conducted by an huſbandman, of whom there are few, being readily granted, how, and on what conditions, is this culture obtained? Why, by a very great encreaſe of labour; by an augmen⯑tation of the third part, at leaſt, of the hand-labour, to ſay nothing of the horſes and machinery employed in ordinary tillage. Now, every man muſt be ſenſible how little becoming the gravity of Legiſlature it is to encourage a Board, which re⯑commends to us, and upon very weighty reaſons unqueſtionably, an enlargement of the capital we employ in the operations of the land, and then to paſs an act which taxes that manual labour, al⯑ready at a very high rate; thus compelling us to diminiſh the quantity of labour which in the vul⯑gar courſe we actually employ.

What is true of the farmer is equally true of the middle man; whether the middle man acts as fac⯑tor, jobber, ſaleſman, or ſpeculator, in the markets of grain. Theſe traders are to be left to their free courſe; and the more they make, and the richer they are, and the more largely they deal, the better both for the farmer and conſumer, between whom they form a natural and moſt uſeful link of connec⯑tion; though, by the machinations of the old evil counſellor, Envy, they are hated and maligned by both parties.

[25]I hear that middle men are accuſed of mono⯑poly. Without queſtion, the monopoly of autho⯑rity is, in every inſtance and in every degree, an evil; but the monopoly of capital is the contrary. It is a great benefit, and a benefit particularly to the poor. A tradeſman who has but a hundred pound capital, which (ſay) he can turn but once a year, cannot live upon a profit of 10 per cent. be⯑cauſe he cannot live upon ten pounds a year; but a man of ten thouſand pounds capital can live and thrive upon 5 per cent. profit in the year, becauſe he has five hundred pounds a year. The ſame proportion holds in turning it twice or thrice. Theſe principles are plain and ſimple; and it is not our ignorance, ſo much as the levity, the envy, and the malignity of our nature, that hinders us from perceiving and yielding to them: but we are not to ſuffer our vices to uſurp the place of our judgment.

The balance between conſumption and produc⯑tion makes price. The market ſettles, and alone can ſettle, that price. Market is the meeting and conference of the conſumer and producer, when they mutually diſcover each other's wants. Nobody, I believe, has obſerved with any reflection what market is, without being aſtoniſhed at the truth, the correctneſs, the celerity, the general equity, with which the balance of wants is ſettled. They [26] who wiſh the deſtruction of that balance, and would fain by arbitrary regulation decree, that de⯑fective production ſhould not be compenſated by encreaſed price, directly lay their axe to the root of production itſelf.

They may even in one year of ſuch falſe policy, do miſchiefs incalculable; becauſe the trade of a farmer is, as I have before explained, one of the moſt precarious in its advantages, the moſt liable to loſſes, and the leaſt profitable of any that is carried on. It requires ten times more of labour, of vigilance, of attention, of ſkill, and let me add, of good fortune alſo, to carry on the buſineſs of a farmer with ſucceſs, than what belongs to any other trade. Seeing things in this light, I am far from preſuming to cenſure the late circular inſtruc⯑tion of Council to Lord Lieutenants—but I confeſs I do not clearly diſcern its object. I am greatly afraid that the enquiry will raiſe ſome alarm as a meaſure, leading to the French ſyſtem of putting corn into requiſition. For that was preceded by an inquiſition ſomewhat ſimilar in it's principle, though, according to their mode, their principles are full of that violence, which here is not much to be feared. It goes on a principle directly oppoſite to mine: it preſumes, that the market is no fair teſt of plenty or ſcarcity. It raiſes a ſuſpicion, which may affect the tranquillity of the public mind, [27] "that the farmer keeps back, and takes unfair ad⯑vantages by delay;" on the part of the dealer, it gives riſe obviouſly to a thouſand nefarious ſpecu⯑lations.

In caſe the return ſhould on the whole prove favourable, is it meant to ground a meaſure for en⯑couraging exportation and checking the import of corn? If it is not, what end can it anſwer? And, I believe, it is not.

This opinion may be fortified by a report gone abroad, that intentions are entertained of erecting public granaries, and that this enquiry is to give Government an advantage in it's purchaſes.

I hear that ſuch a meaſure has been propoſed, and is under deliberation, that is, for Government to ſet up a granary in every market town, at the expence of the ſtate, in order to extinguiſh the dealer, and to ſubject the farmer to the conſumer, by ſecuring corn to the latter at a certain and ſteady price.

If ſuch a ſcheme is adopted, I ſhould not like to anſwer for the ſafety of the granary, of the agents, or of the town itſelf, in which the granary was erected—the firſt ſtorm of popular phrenzy would fall upon that granary.

[28]So far in a political light.

In an economical light, I muſt obſerve, that the conſtruction of ſuch granaries throughout the kingdom, would be at an expence beyond all cal⯑culation. The keeping them up would be at a great charge. The management and attendance would require an army of agents, ſtore-keepers, clerks, and ſervants. The capital to be employed in the purchaſe of grain would be enormous. The waſte, decay, and corruption, would be a dreadful drawback on the whole dealing; and the diſſatiſ⯑faction of the people, at having decayed, tainted, or corrupted corn ſold to them, as muſt be the caſe, would be ſerious.

This climate (whatever others may be) is not favourable to granaries, where wheat is to be kept for any time. The beſt, and indeed the only good granary, is the rick-yard of the farmer, where the corn is preſerved in it's own ſtraw, ſweet, clean, wholeſome, free from vermin and from inſects, and comparatively at a trifle of expence. This, with the barn, enjoying many of the ſame advantages, have been the ſole granaries of England from the foundation of it's agriculture to this day. All this is done at the expence of the undertaker, and at his ſole riſk. He contributes to Government; he [29] receives nothing from it but protection; and to this he has a claim.

The moment that Government appears at market, all the principles of market will be ſub⯑verted. I don't know whether the farmer will ſuf⯑fer by it, as long as there is a tolerable market of competition; but I am ſure that, in the firſt place, the trading government will ſpeedily become a bankrupt, and the conſumer in the end will ſuffer. If Government makes all it's purchaſes at once, it will inſtantly raiſe the market upon itſelf. If it makes them by degrees, it muſt follow the courſe of the market. If it follows the courſe of the market, it will produce no effect, and the conſumer may as well buy as he wants—therefore all the ex⯑pence is incurred gratis.

But if the object of this ſcheme ſhould be, what I ſuſpect it is, to deſtroy the dealer, commonly called the middle man, and by incurring a volun⯑tary loſs to carry the baker to deal with Govern⯑ment, I am to tell them that they muſt ſet up ano⯑ther trade, that of a miller or a mealman, attended with a new train of expences and riſks. If in both theſe trades they ſhould ſucceed, ſo as to exclude thoſe who trade on natural and private capitals, then they will have a monopoly in their hands, [30] which, under the appearance of a monopoly of ca⯑pital, will, in reality, be a monopoly of authority, and will ruin whatever it touches. The agricul⯑ture of the kingdom cannot ſtand before it.

A little place like Geneva, of not more than from twenty-five to thirty thouſand inhabitants, which has no territory, or next to none; which de⯑pends for it's exiſtence on the good-will of three neighbouring powers, and is of courſe continually in the ſtate of ſomething like a ſiege, or in the ſpe⯑culation of it, might find ſome reſource in ſtate granaries, and ſome revenue from the monopoly of what was ſold to the keepers of public-houſes. This is a policy for a ſtate too ſmall for agriculture. It is not (for inſtance) fit for ſo great a country as the Pope poſſeſſes, where, however, it is adopted and purſued in a greater extent, and with more ſtrictneſs. Certain of the Pope's territories, from whence the city of Rome is ſupplied, being obliged to furniſh Rome and the granaries of his Holineſs with corn at a certain price, that part of the papal territories is utterly ruined. That ruin may be traced with certainty to this ſole cauſe, and it ap⯑pears indubitably by a compariſon of their ſtate and condition with that of the other part of the ec⯑cleſiaſtical dominions not ſubjected to the ſame regulations, which are in circumſtances highly flouriſhing.

[31]The reformation of this evil ſyſtem is in a man⯑ner impracticable; for, firſt, it does keep bread and all other proviſions equally ſubject to the chamber of ſupply, at a pretty reaſonable and re⯑gular price, in the city of Rome. This preſerves quiet among the numerous poor, idle, and natur⯑ally mutinous people, of a very great capital. But the quiet of the town is purchaſed by the ruin of the country, and the ultimate wretchedneſs of both. The next cauſe which renders this evil in⯑curable, is, the jobs which have grown out of it, and which, in ſpite of all precautions, would grow out of ſuch things, even under governments far more potent than the feeble authority of the Pope.

This example of Rome which has been derived from the moſt ancient times, and the moſt flouriſh⯑ing period of the Roman empire (but not of the Roman agriculture) may ſerve as a great caution to all Governments, not to attempt to feed the people out of the hands of the magiſtrates. If once they are habituated to it, though but for one half-year, they will never be ſatisfied to have it otherwiſe. And, having looked to Government for bread, on the very firſt ſcarcity they will turn and bite the hand that fed them. To avoid that evil, Government will redouble the cauſes of it; and then it will become inveterate and incurable.

[32]I beſeech the Government (which I take in the largeſt ſenſe of the word, comprehending the two Houſes of Parliament) ſeriouſly to conſider that years of ſcarcity or plenty, do not come alternately or at ſhort intervals, but in pretty long cycles and irregularly, and conſequently that we cannot aſ⯑ſure ourſelves, if we take a wrong meaſure, from the temporary neceſſities of one ſeaſon; but that the next, and probably more, will drive us to the continuance of it; ſo that in my opinion, there is no way of preventing this evil which goes to the deſtruction of all our agriculture, and of that part of, our internal commerce which touches our agri⯑culture the moſt nearly, as well as the ſafety and very being of Government, but manfully to reſiſt the very firſt idea, ſpeculative or practical, that it is within the competence of Government, taken as Government, or even of the rich, as rich, to ſupply to the poor, thoſe neceſſaries which it has pleaſed the Divine Providence for a while to with-hold from them. We, the people, ought to be made ſenſible, that it is not in breaking the laws of com⯑merce, which are the laws of nature, and conſe⯑quently the laws of God, that we are to place our hope of ſoftening the Divine diſpleaſure to remove any calamity under which we ſuffer, or which hangs over us.

So far as to the principles of general policy.

[33]As to the ſtate of things which is urged as a rea⯑ſon to deviate from them, theſe are the circum⯑ſtances of the harveſt of 1795 and 1794. With regard to the harveſt of 1794, in relation to the no⯑bleſt grain, wheat, it is allowed to have been ſome⯑what ſhort, but not exceſſively; and in quality, for the ſeven and twenty years, during which I have been a farmer, I never remember wheat to have been ſo good. The world were, however, deceived in their ſpeculations upon it—the far⯑mer as well as the dealer. Accordingly the price fluctuated beyond any thing I can remember; for, at one time of the year, I ſold my wheat at 14l. a load, (I ſold off all I had, as I thought this was a reaſonable price), when at the end of the ſeaſon, if I had then had any to ſell, I might have got thirty guineas for the ſame ſort of grain. I fold all that I had, as I ſaid, at a comparatively low price, be⯑cauſe I thought it a good price, compared with what I thought the general produce of the harveſt; but when I came to conſider what my own total was, I found that the quantity had not anſwered my expectation. It muſt be remembered, that this year of produce, (the year 1794) ſhort, but excel⯑lent, followed a year which was not extraordinary in production, nor of a ſuperior quality, and left but little in ſtore. At firſt this was not felt, be⯑cauſe the harveſt came in unuſually early—earlier than common, by a full month.

[34]The winter, at the end of 1794, and beginning of 1795, was more than uſually unfavourable both to corn and graſs, owing to the ſudden relaxation of very rigorous froſts, followed by rains, which were again rapidly ſucceeded by froſts of ſtill greater rigour than the firſt.

Much wheat was utterly deſtroyed. The clover graſs ſuffered in many places. What I never ob⯑ſerved before, the rye-graſs, or coarſe bent, ſuffered more than the clover. Even the meadow-graſs in ſome places was killed to the very roots. In the ſpring, appearances were better than we expected. All the early ſown grain recovered itſelf, and came up with great vigour; but that, which was late ſown, was feeble, and did not promiſe to reſiſt any blights, in the ſpring, which, however, with all its unpleaſant viſſicitudes paſſed off very well; and nothing looked better than the wheat at the time of blooming: —but at that moſt critical time of all, a cold dry eaſt wind, attended with very ſharp froſts, longer and ſtronger than I recollect at that time of year, deſtroyed the flowers, and withered up, in an aſtoniſhing manner, the whole ſide of the ear next to the wind. At that time I brought to town ſome of the ears, for the purpoſe of ſhewing to my friends the operation of thoſe unnatural froſts, and according to their extent I predicted a [35] great ſcarcity. But ſuch is the pleaſure of agree⯑able proſpects, that my opinion was little regarded.

On threſhing, I found things as I expected— the ears not filled, ſome of the capſules quite empty, and ſeveral others containing only withered hungry grain, inferior to the appearance of rye. My beſt ears and grains were not fine; never had I grain of ſo low a quality—yet I ſold one load for 21l. At the ſame time I bought my ſeed wheat (it was ex⯑cellent) at 23l. Since then the price has riſen, and I have ſold about two load of the ſame ſort at 23l. Such was the ſtate of the market when I left home laſt Monday. Little remains in my barn. I hope ſome in the rick may be better; ſince it was earlier ſown, as well as I can recollect. Some of my neighbours have better, ſome quite as bad, or even worſe. I ſuſpect it will be found, that where⯑ever the blighting wind and thoſe froſts at bloom⯑ing time have prevailed, the produce of the wheat crop will turn out very indifferent. Thoſe parts which have eſcaped, will, I can hardly doubt, have a reaſonable produce.

As to the other grains, it is to be obſerved, as the wheat ripened very late, (on account, I con⯑ceive, of the blights) the barley got the ſtart of it, and was ripe firſt. The crop was with me, and [36] wherever my enquiry could reach, excellent; in ſome places far ſuperior to mine.

The clover, which came up with the barley, was the fineſt I remember to have ſeen.

The turnips of this year are generally good.

The clover ſown laſt year, where not totally de⯑ſtroyed, gave two good crops, or one crop and a plentiful feed; and, bating the loſs of the rye-graſs, I do not remember a better produce.

The meadow-graſs yielded but a middling crop, and neither of the ſown or natural graſs was there in any farmer's poſſeſſion any remainder from the year worth taking into account. In moſt places, there was none at all.

Oats with me were not in a quantity more con⯑ſiderable than in commonly good ſeaſons; but I have never known them heavier, than they were in other places. The oat was not only an heavy, but an uncommonly abundant crop. My ground un⯑der peaſe did not exceed an acre, or thereabouts, but the crop was great indeed. I believe it is throughout the country exuberant.

It is however to be remarked, that as generally [37] of all the grains, ſo particularly of the peaſe, there was not the ſmalleſt quantity in reſerve.

The demand of the year muſt depend ſolely on it's own produce; and the price of the ſpring-corn is not to be expected to fall very ſoon, or at any time very low.

Uxbridge is a great corn market. As I came through that town, I found that at the laſt market⯑day, barley was at forty ſhillings a quarter; oats there were literally none; and the innkeeper was obliged to ſend for them to London. I forgot to aſk about peaſe. Potatoes were 5s. the buſhel.

In the debate on this ſubject in the Houſe, I am told that a leading member of great ability, little converſant in theſe matters, obſerved, that the gene⯑ral uniform dearneſs of butcher's meat, butter, and cheeſe, could not be owing to a defective produce of wheat; and on this ground inſinuated a ſuſpi⯑cion of ſome unfair practice on the ſubject, that called for enquiry.

Unqueſtionably the mere deficiency of wheat could not cauſe the dearneſs of the other articles, which extends not only to the proviſions he men⯑tioned, but to every other without exception.

[38]The cauſe is indeed ſo very plain and obvious, that the wonder is the other way. When a pro⯑perly directed enquiry is made, the gentlemen who are amazed at the price of theſe commodities will find, that when hay is at ſix pound a load, as they muſt know it is, herbage, and for more than one year, muſt be ſcanty, and they will conclude, that if graſs be ſcarce, beef, veal, mutton, butter, milk, and cheeſe, muſt be dear.

But to take up the matter ſomewhat more in detail—if the wheat harveſt in 1794, excellent in quality, was defective in quantity, the barley har⯑veſt was in quality ordinary enough; and in quan⯑tity deficient. This was ſoon felt in the price of malt.

Another article of produce (beans) was not at all plentiful. The crop of peaſe was wholly deſtroyed, ſo that ſeveral farmers pretty early gave up all hopes on that head, and cut the green haulm as fodder for the cattle, then periſhing for want of food in that dry and burning ſummer. I myſelf came off better than moſt—I had about the fourth of a crop of peaſe.

It will be recollected, that, in a manner, all the bacon and pork conſumed in this country, (the far largeſt conſumption of meat out of towns) is, when [39] growing, fed on graſs, and on whey, or ſkimmed milk; and when fatting, partly on the latter. This is the caſe in the dairy countries, all of them great breeders and feeders of ſwine; but for the much greater part, and in all the corn countries, they are fattened on beans, barley meal, and peaſe. When the food of the animal is ſcarce, his fleſh muſt be dear. This, one would ſuppoſe, would re⯑quire no great penetration to diſcover.

This failure of ſo very large a ſupply of fleſh in one ſpecies, naturally throws the whole demand of the conſumer on the diminiſhed ſupply of all kinds of fleſh, and, indeed, on all the matters of human ſuſtenance. Nor, in my opinion, are we to expect a greater cheapneſs in that article for this year, even though corn ſhould grow cheaper, as it is to be hoped it will. The ſtore ſwine, from the failure of ſubſiſtence laſt year, are now at an extravagant price. Pigs, at our fairs, have ſold lately for fifty ſhillings, which, two years ago, would not have brought more than twenty.

As to ſheep, none, I thought, were ſtrangers to the general failure of the article of turnips laſt year; the early having been burned as they came up, by the great drought and heat; the late, and thoſe of the early which had eſcaped, were deſtroy⯑ed by the chilling froſts of the winter, and the wet [40] and ſevere weather of the ſpring. In many places a full fourth of the ſheep or the lambs were loſt, what remained of the lambs were poor and ill-fed, the ewes having had no milk. The calves came late, and they were generally an article, the want of which was as much to be dreaded as any other. So that article of food, formerly ſo abundant in the early part of the ſummer, particularly in London, and which in a great part ſupplied the place of mutton for near two months, did little leſs than totally fail.

All the productions of the earth link in with each other. All the ſources of plenty, in all and every article, were dried or frozen up. The ſcarcity was not as gentlemen ſeem to ſuppoſe, in wheat only.

Another cauſe, and that not of inconſiderable operation, tended to produce a ſcarcity in fleſh pro⯑viſion. It is one that on many accounts cannot be too much regretted, and, the rather, as it was the ſole cauſe of ſcarcity in that article, which aroſe from the proceedings of men themſelves. I mean the ſtop put to the diſtillery.

The hogs (and that would be ſufficient) which were fed with the waſte waſh of that produce, did not demand the fourth part of the corn uſed by farmers in fattening them. The ſpirit was nearly ſo much clear gain to the nation. It is an odd [41] way of making fleſh cheap, to ſtop or check the diſtillery.

The diſtillery in itſelf produces an immenſe article of trade almoſt all over the world, to Africa, to North America, and to various parts of Europe. It is of great uſe, next to food itſelf, to our fiſh⯑eries and to our whole navigation. A great part of the diſtillery was carried on by damaged corn, unfit for bread, and by barley and malt of the low⯑eſt quality. Theſe things could not be more un⯑exceptionably employed. The domeſtic conſump⯑tion of ſpirits, produced, without complaints, a very great revenue, applicable, if we pleaſed, in bounties to the bringing corn from other places, far beyond the value of that conſumed in making it, or to the encouragement of it's encreaſed pro⯑duction at home.

As to what is ſaid, in a phyſical and moral view, againſt the home conſumption of ſpirits, ex⯑perience has long ſince taught me very little to reſpect the declamations on that ſubject—whether the thunder of the laws, or the thunder of elo⯑quence, "is hurled on gin," always I am thunder⯑proof. The alembic, in my mind, has furniſhed to the world a far greater benefit and bleſſing, than if the opus maximum had been really found by che⯑miſtry, [42] and, like Midas, we could turn every thing into gold.

Undoubtedly there may be a dangerous abuſe in the exceſs of ſpirits; and at one time I am ready to believe the abuſe was great. When ſpirits are cheap, the buſineſs of drunkenneſs is atchieved with little time or labour; but that evil I conſider to be wholly done away. Obſervation for the laſt forty years, and very particularly for the laſt thirty, has furniſhed me with ten inſtances of drunkenneſs from other cauſes, for one from this. Ardent ſpirit is a great medicine, often to remove diſtem⯑pers—much more frequently to prevent them, or to chaſe them away in their beginnings. It is not nutritive in any great degree. But, if not food, it greatly alleviates the want of it. It invigorates the ſtomach for the digeſtion of poor meagre diet, not eaſily alliable to the human conſtitution. Wine the poor cannot touch. Beer, as applied to many occaſions, (as among ſeamen and fiſhermen for in⯑ſtance) will by no means do the buſineſs. Let me add, what wits inſpired with champaign and claret, will turn into ridicule—it is a medicine for the mind. Under the preſſure of the cares and ſorrows of our mortal condition, men have at all times, and in all countries, called in ſome phyſical aid to their moral conſolations,—wine, beer, opium, brandy, or tobacco.

[43]I conſider therefore the ſtopping of the diſtillery, oeconomically, financially, commercially, medici⯑nally, and in ſome degree morally too, as a meaſure rather well meant than well conſidered. It is too precious a ſacrifice to prejudice.

Gentlemen well know whether there be a ſcarcity of partridges, and whether that be an effect of hoarding and combination. All the tame race of birds live and die as the wild do.

As to the leſſer articles, they are like the greater. They have followed the fortune of the ſeaſon. Why are fowls dear? was not this the farmer's or jobber's fault. I ſold from my yard to a jobber, ſix young and lean fowls, for four and twenty ſhil⯑lings; fowls, for which, two years ago, the ſame man would not have given a ſhilling a piece.—He ſold them afterwards at Uxbridge, and they were taken to London to receive the laſt hand.

As to the operation of the war in cauſing the ſcarcity of proviſions, I underſtand that Mr. Pitt has given a particular anſwer to it—but I do not think it worth powder and ſhot.

I do not wonder the papers are ſo full of this ſort of matter, but I am a little ſurpriſed it ſhould be [44] mentioned in parliament. Like all great ſtate queſtions, peace and war may be diſcuſſed, and different opinions fairly formed, on political grounds, but on a queſtion of the preſent price of proviſions, when peace with the regicides is always uppermoſt, I can only ſay, that great is the love of it.

After all, have we not reaſon to be thankful to the giver of all good? In our hiſtory, and when "The labourer of England is ſaid to have been once happy," we find conſtantly, after certain in⯑tervals, a period of real famine; by which, a me⯑lancholy havock was made among the human race. The price of proviſions fluctuated dreadfully, de⯑monſtrating a deficiency very different from the worſt failures of the preſent moment. Never ſince I have known England, have I known more than a comparative ſcarcity. The price of wheat, taking a number of years together, has had no very conſiderable fluctuation, nor has it riſen exceed⯑ingly until within this twelvemonth. Even now, I do not know of one man, woman, or child, that has periſhed from famine; fewer, if any, I believe, than in years of plenty, when ſuch a thing may happen by accident. This is owing to a care and ſuperintendance of the poor, far greater than any I remember.

[45]The conſideration of this ought to bind us all, rich and poor together, againſt thoſe wicked writers of the newſpapers, who would inflame the poor againſt their friends, guardians, patrons, and protectors. Not only very few (I have obſerved, that I know of none, though I live in a place as poor as moſt) have actually died of want, but we have ſeen no traces of thoſe dreadful exterminating epidemics, which, in conſequence of ſcanty and unwholeſome food, in former times, not unfre⯑quently, waſted whole nations. Let us be ſaved from too much wiſdom of our own, and we ſhall do tolerably well.

It is one of the fineſt problems in legiſlation, and what has often engaged my thoughts whilſt I followed that profeſſion, "What the State ought to take upon itſelf to direct by the public wiſdom, and what it ought to leave, with as little inter⯑ference as poſſible, to individual diſcretion." No⯑thing, certainly, can be laid down on the ſubject that will not admit of exceptions, many permanent, ſome occaſional. But the cleareſt line of diſtinc⯑tion which I could draw, whilſt I had my chalk to draw any line, was this: That the State ought to confine itſelf to what regards the State, or the creatures of the State, namely, the exterior eſta⯑bliſhment of its religion; its magiſtracy; its reve⯑nue; its military force by ſea and land; the cor⯑porations [46] that owe their exiſtence to its fiat; in a word, to every thing that is truly and properly pub⯑lic, to the public peace, to the public ſafety, to the public order, to the public proſperity. In it's pre⯑ventive police it ought to be ſparing of its efforts, and to employ means, rather few, unfrequent, and ſtrong, than many, and frequent, and, of courſe, as they multiply their puny politic race, and dwin⯑dle, ſmall and feeble. Stateſmen who know them⯑ſelves will, with the dignity which belongs to wiſ⯑dom, proceed only in this the ſuperior orb and firſt mover of their duty, ſteadily, vigilantly, ſe⯑verely, courageouſly: whatever remains will, in a manner, provide for itſelf. But as they deſcend from the ſtate to a province, from a province to a pariſh, and from a pariſh to a private houſe, they go on accelerated in their fall. They cannot do the lower duty; and, in proportion as they try it, they will certainly fail in the higher. They ought to know the different departments of things; what belongs to laws, and what manners alone can re⯑gulate. To theſe, great politicians may give a leaning, but they cannot give a law.

Our Legiſlature has fallen into this fault as well as other governments; all have fallen into it more or leſs. The once mighty State, which was neareſt to us locally, neareſt to us in every way, and whoſe ruins threaten to fall upon our heads, is a ſtrong [47] inſtance of this error. I can never quote France without a foreboding ſigh— [...]! Scipio ſaid it to his recording Greek friend amidſt the flames of the great rival of his country. That ſtate has fallen by the hands of the parricides of their country, called the Revolutioniſts, and Con⯑ſtitutionaliſts, of France, a ſpecies of traitors, of whoſe fury and atrocious wickedneſs nothing in the annals of the phrenzy and depravation of man⯑kind had before furniſhed an example, and of whom I can never think or ſpeak without a mixed ſenſation of diſguſt, of horrour, and of deteſtation, not eaſy to be expreſſed. Theſe nefarious monſters deſtroyed their country for what was good in it: for much good there was in the conſtitution of that noble monarchy, which, in all kinds, formed and nouriſhed great men, and great patterns of vir⯑tue to the world. But though it's enemies were not enemies to it's faults, it's faults furniſhed them with means for it's deſtruction. My dear departed friend, whoſe loſs is even greater to the public than to me, had often remarked, that the leading vice of the French monarchy (which he had well ſtudied) was in good intention ill-di⯑rected, and a reſtleſs deſire of governing too much. The hand of authority was ſeen in every thing, and in every place. All, therefore, that happened amiſs in the courſe even of domeſtic affairs, was attributed to the Government; and, as it always [48] happens in this kind of officious univerſal inter⯑ference, what began in odious power, ended always, I may ſay without an exception, in contemptible imbecillity. For this reaſon, as far as I can approve of any novelty, I thought well of the Provincial Adminiſtrations. Thoſe, if the ſuperior power had been ſevere, and vigilant, and vigorous, might have been of much uſe politically in removing govern⯑ment from many invidious details. But as every thing is good or bad, as it is related or combined, government being relaxed above as it was relaxed below, and the brains of the people growing more and more addle with every ſort of viſionary ſpe⯑c [...]ion, the ſhiftings of the ſcene in the provin⯑cial the [...] became only preparatives to a revolu⯑tion [...] the k [...]ngdom▪ and the popular actings [...]here on [...]y the rehearſals of the terrible drama of the republic.

Tyranny and cruelty may make men juſtly wiſh the downfall of abuſed powers, but I believe that no government ever yet periſhed from any other direct cauſe than it's own weakneſs. My opinion is againſt an over-doing of any ſort of adminiſtra⯑tion, and more eſpecially againſt this moſt mo⯑mentous of all meddling on the part of authority; the meddling with the ſubſiſtence of the people.