While Jonathan argued, he worked; for we must do him the justice to say that he always made thinking and acting keep pace.
He expended the remainder of his dollars in buildings, enclosures, clearances, trenching, draining, improving, etc.; and after having dug, laboured, sowed, harrowed, reaped, at length came the time to dispose of his crop. “Now I shall see,” said Jonathan, still occupied with the problem of value, “if in becoming a landed proprietor I have transformed myself into a monopolist, a privileged aristocrat, a plunderer of my neighbour, an engrosser of the bounties of divine Providence.”
He carried his grain to market, and began to talk with a Yankee:—Friend, said he, how much will you give me for this Indian corn?
The current price, replied the other.
The current price! but will that yield me anything beyond the interest of my capital and the wages of my labour?
I am a merchant, said the Yankee, and I know that I must content myself with the recompense of my present and former labour.
And I was content with it when I was a mere drawer of water, replied the other, but now I am a landed proprietor. The English and French Economists have assured me that in that character I [p263] ought, over and above the double remuneration you point at, to derive a profit from the productive and indestructible powers of the soil, and levy a tax on the gifts of God.
The gifts of God belong to all, said the merchant. I avail myself of the productive power of the wind for propelling my ships, but I make no one pay for it.
Still, as far as I am concerned, I expect that you will pay me something for these powers, in order that Messieurs Senior, Considérant, and Proudhon, should not call me a monopolist and usurper for nothing. If I am to have the disgrace, I may at least have the profit, of a monopolist.
In that case, friend, I must bid you good morning. To obtain the maize I am in quest of, I must apply to other proprietors, and if I find them of your mind, I shall cultivate it for myself.