ADDITIONAL perspicuity will be communicated to our view of the evils of
political society if we reflect with further and closer attention upon what may
be called its interior and domestic history.
Two of the greatest abuses relative to the interior policy of nations, which at
this time prevail in the world, consist in the irregular transfer of property,
either first by violence, or secondly by fraud. If among the inhabitants of any
country there existed no desire in one individual to possess himself of the
substance of another, or no desire so vehement and restless as to prompt him to
acquire it by means inconsistent with order and justice, undoubtedly in that
country guilt could scarcely be known but by report. If every man could with
perfect facility obtain the necessaries of life, and, obtaining them, feel no
uneasy craving after its superfluities, temptation would lose its power.
Private interest would visibly accord with public good; and civil society
become what poetry has feigned of the golden age. Let us enquire into the
principles to which these abuses are indebted for their existence.
First then it is to be observed that, in the most refined states of Europe, the
inequality of property has risen to an alarming height. Vast numbers of their
inhabitants are deprived of almost every accommodation that can render
life tolerable or secure. Their utmost industry scarcely suffices
for their support. The women and children lean with an insupportable weight
upon the efforts of the man, so that a large family has in the lower
orders of life become a proverbial expression for an uncommon degree of poverty and
wretchedness. If sickness, or some of those casualties which are perpetually
incident to an active and laborious life, be added to these burdens, the
distress is yet greater.
It seens to be agreed that in England there is less wretchedness and distress
than in most of the kingdoms of the continent. In England the poors' rates
amount to the sum of two millions sterling per annum. It has been calculated
that one person in seven of the inhabitants of this country derives at some
period of his life assistance from this fund. If to this we add the persons
who, from pride, a spirit of independence, or the want of a legal settlement,
though in equal distress receive no such assistance, the proportion will be
considerably increased.
I lay no stress upon the accuracy of this calculation; the general fact is
sufficient to give us an idea of the greatness of the abuse. The consequences
that result are placed beyond the reach of contradiction. A perpetual struggle
with the evils of poverty, if frequently ineffectual, must necessarily render
many of the sufferers desperate. A painful feeling of their oppressed situation
will itself deprive them of the power of surmounting it. The superiority of the
rich, being thus unmercifully exercised, must inevitably expose them to
reprisals; and the poor man will be induced to regard the state of society as a
state of war, an unjust combination, not for protecting every man in his rights
and securing to him the means of existence, but for engrossing all its
advantages to a few favoured individuals, and reserving for the portion of the
rest want, dependence and misery.
A second source of those destructive passions by which the peace of society is
interrupted is to be found in the luxury, the pageantry and magnificence with
which enormous wealth is usually accompanied. Human beings are capable of
encountering with cheerfulness considerable hardships when those hardships are
impartially shared with the rest of the society, and they are not insulted with
the spectacle of indolence and ease in others, no way
deserving of greater advantages than themselves. But it is a bitter aggravation
of their own calamity, to have the privileges of others forced on their
observation, and, while they are perpetually and vainly endeavouring to secure
for themselves and their families the poorest conveniences, to find others
revelling in the fruits of their labours. This aggravation is assiduously
administered to them under most of the political establishments at present in
existence. There is a numerous class of individuals who, though rich, have
neither brilliant talents nor sublime virtues; and, however highly they may
prize their education, their affability, their superior polish and the elegance
of their manners, have a secret consciousness that they possess nothing by
which they can so securely assert their pre-eminence
and keep their inferiors at a distance as the splendour of their equipage, the
magnificence of their retinue and the sumptuousness of their entertainments.
The poor man is struck with this exhibition; he feels his own miseries; he
knows how unwearied are his efforts to obtain a slender pittance of this
prodigal waste; and he mistakes opulence for felicity. He cannot persuade
himself that an embroidered garment may frequently cover an aching heart.
A third disadvantage that is apt to connect poverty with discontent
consists in the insolence and usurpation of the rich. If the poor man would in
other respects compose himself in philosophic indifference, and, conscious that
he possesses every thing that is truly honourable to man as fully as his rich
neighbour, would look upon the rest as beneath his envy, his neighbour will not
permit him to do so. He seems as if he could never be satisfied with his
possessions unless he can make the spectacle of them grating to others; and
that honest self-esteem,
by which his inferior might otherwise attain to tranquillity, is rendered the
instrument of galling him with oppression and injustice. In many
countries justice is avowedly made a subject of solicitation, and the man of
the highest rank and most splendid connections almost infallibly carries his cause
against the unprotected and friendless. In countries where this shameless practice is
not established, justice is frequently a matter of expensive purchase, and the
man with the longest purse is proverbially victorious. A consciousness of these
facts must be expected to render the rich little cautious of offence in his
dealings with the poor, and to inspire him with a temper overbearing,
dictatorial and tyrannical. Nor does this indirect oppression satisfy his
despotism. The rich are in all such countries directly or indirectly the
legislators of the state; and of consequence are perpetually reducing
oppression into a system, and depriving the poor of that little commonage of
nature which might otherwise still have remained to them.
The opinions of individuals, and of consequence their desires, for desire is
nothing but opinion maturing for action, will always be in a great degree
regulated by the opinions of the community. But the manners prevailing in many
countries are accurately calculated to impress a conviction that integrity,
virtue, understanding and industry are nothing, and that opulence is
everything. Does a man whose exterior denotes indigence expect to be well
received in society, and especially by those who would be understood to dictate
to the rest? Does he find or imagine himself in want of their assistance and
favour? He is presently taught that no merit can atone for a mean appearance.
The lesson that is read to him is, "Go home; enrich yourself by whatever means;
obtain those superfluities which are alone regarded as estimable; and you may
then be secure of an amicable reception." Accordingly poverty in such countries
is viewed as the greatest of demerits. It is escaped from with an eagerness
that has no leisure for the scruples of honesty. It is concealed as the most
indelible disgrace. While one man chooses the path of undistinguishing
accumulation, another plunges into expenses which are to impose him upon the
world as more opulent than he is. He hastens to the reality of
that penury the appearance of which he dreads; and, together with his property,
sacrifices the integrity, veracity and character which might have consoled him
in his adversity.
Such are the causes that, in different degrees under the different governments
of the world, prompt mankind openly or secretly to encroach upon the property
of each other. Let us consider how far they admit either of remedy or
aggravation from political institution. Whatever tends to decrease the injuries
attendant upon poverty decreases at the same time the inordinate desire and the
enormous accumulation of wealth. Wealth is not pursued for its own sake, and
seldom for the sensual gratifications it can purchase, but for the same reasons
that ordinarily prompt men to the acquisition of learning, eloquence and skill,
for the love of distinction and the fear of contempt. How few would prize the
possession of riches if they were condemned to enjoy their equipage, their
palaces and their entertainments in solitude, with no eye to wonder at their
magnificence, and no sordid observer ready to convert that wonder into an
adulation of the owner? If admiration were not generally deemed the exclusive
property of the rich, and contempt the constant lacquey of poverty, the love of
gain would cease to be an universal passion. Let us consider in what respects
political institution is rendered subservient to this passion.
First then, legislation is in almost every country grossly the favourer of the
rich against the poor. Such is the character of the game-laws,
by which the industrious rustic is forbidden to destroy the animal that preys
upon the hopes of his future subsistence, or to supply himself with the food
that unsought thrusts itself in his path. Such was the spirit of the late
revenue-laws
of France, which in several of their provisions fell exclusively upon the
humble and industrious, and exempted from their operation those who were best
able to support it. Thus in England the land-tax
at this moment produces half a million less than it did a century ago, while
the taxes on
consumption have experienced an addition of thirteen millions per annum during
the same period. This is an attempt, whether effectual or no, to throw the
burthen from the rich upon the poor, and as such is an example of the spirit of
legislation. Upon the same principle robbery and other offences, which the
wealthier part of the community have no temptation to commit, are treated as
capital crimes, and attended with the most rigorous, often the most inhuman
punishments. The rich are encouraged to associate for the execution of the most
partial and oppressive positive laws; monopolies and patents are lavishly
dispensed to such as are able to purchase them; while the most vigilant policy
is employed to prevent combinations of the poor to fix the price of labour, and
they are deprived of the benefit of that prudence and judgement which would
select the scene of their industry.
Secondly, the administration of law is not less iniquitous than the spirit in
which it is framed. Under the late government of France the office of judge was
a matter of purchase, partly by an open price advanced to the crown, and partly
by a secret douceur paid to the minister. He who knew best how to manage his
market in the retail trade of justice could afford to purchase the good will of
its functions at the highest price. To the client justice was avowedly made an
object of personal solicitation; and a powerful friend, a handsome woman, or a
proper present were articles of much greater value than a good cause. In
England the criminal law is administered with greater impartiality so far as
regards the trial itself; but the number of capital offences, and of
consequence the frequency of pardons, open a wide door to favour and abuse. In
causes relating to property the practice of law is arrived at such a pitch as
to render its nominal impartiality utterly nugatory. The length of our chancery
suits, the multiplied appeals from court to court, the enormous fees of
counsel, attorneys, secretaries, clerks, the drawing of briefs, bills,
replications and rejoinders, and what has sometimes been called the
"glorious uncertainy" of the law, render it frequently more advisable to resign
a property than to contest it, and particularly exclude the impoverished
claimant from the faintest hope of redress.
Thirdly, the inequality of conditions usually maintained by political
institution is calculated greatly to enhance the imagined excellence of wealth.
In the ancient monarchies of the East, and in Turkey at the present day, an
eminent station could scarcely fail to excite implicit deference. The timid
inhabitant trembled before his superior; and would have thought it little less
than blasphemy to touch the veil drawn by the proud satrap over his inglorious
origin. The same principles were extensively prevalent under the feudal system.
The vassal, who was regarded as a sort of live stock upon the estate, and knew
no appeal from the arbitrary fiat of his lord, would scarcely venture to
suspect that he was of the same species. This however constituted an unnatural
and violent situation. There is a propensity in man to look further than the
outside; and to come with a writ of enquiry into the title of the upstart and
the successful. By the operation of these causes the insolence of wealth has
been in some degree moderated. Meantime it cannot be pretended that even among
ourselves the inequality is not strained so as to give birth to very
unfortunate consequences. If, in the enormous degree in which it prevails in
some parts of the world, it wholly debilitate and emasculate the human race, we
shall feel some reason to believe that, even in the milder state in which we
are accustomed to behold it, it is still pregnant with the most mischievous
effects.
