BOOK III: LIBERALISM
It is time we returned to the Classical writers. Now that the combat had grown fierce among its critics, we are anxious to know what the Classical school itself was doing to repel the onslaughts of the enemy. Its apparent quiescence must not mislead us into the belief that it was already extinct. Although the great works of Ricardo, Malthus, and Say were produced early in the century, it cannot be said that economic literature even after that period, especially in England, had remained at a standstill. But no work worthy of comparison with the writings of the first masters or their eloquent critics had as yet appeared. Now, however, the science was to captivate the public ear a second time, and for a short period at least to unite its many votaries.
But the union was no true one. The Classical school itself was about to break up into two camps, the English and the French. In no sense can they be regarded as rivals, for they are defenders of the same cause. They are both champions of the twin principles of Liberalism and Individualism. But while the first, with John Stuart Mill as its leader, lent a sympathetic ear to the vigorous criticism now rampant everywhere, which claimed that the older theories ought to yield place to the new, the French school, on the other hand, with Bastiat as its chief, struggled against all innovation, and reaffirmed its faith in the “natural order” and laissez-faire.
This divergence really belongs to the origin of the science. Traces of it may be discovered if we compare the Physiocrats with Adam Smith, or J. B. Say with Ricardo; but it was now accentuated, for reasons that we shall presently indicate.
Our third Book naturally divides itself into two parts, the one devoted to the French Liberal school, the other to the English.