The form in which this remuneration is stipulated for, the mode of levying it, the process we adopt in adjusting and concluding the arrangement, make no alteration on the principle. Are there efforts saved to some men by others? Are there satisfactions procured for some by others? In that case there are services exchanged, compared, estimated;—there is Value.
The kind of services we are now discussing, when social complications occur, lead sometimes to frightful consequences. The very nature of the services which we demand from this class of functionaries requires us to put into their hands Power,—power sufficient to subdue all resistance,—and it sometimes happens that they abuse it, and turn it against the very community which employs them. Deriving from the community services proportioned to the want we have of security, they themselves may cause insecurity, in order to display their own importance, and, by a too skilful diplomacy, involve their fellow-citizens in perpetual wars.
All this has happened, and still happens. Great disturbances of the just equilibrium of reciprocal services are the result of it. But it makes no change in the fundamental principle and scientific theory of Value.
I must still give another example or two; but I pray the reader to believe that I feel quite as much as he can how tiresome and fatiguing this series of hypotheses must be—throwing us back, as they all do, on the same kind of proof, tending to the same [p147] conclusion, expressed in the same terms. He must understand, however, that this process, if not the most interesting, is at least the surest way of establishing the true theory of Value, and of thus clearing the road we have to traverse.
We suppose ourselves in Paris. In that great metropolis there is a vast fermentation of desires, and abundant means also of satisfying them. Multitudes of rich men, or men in easy circumstances, devote themselves to industry, to the arts, to politics—and in the evening they are all eager to obtain an hour’s recreation. Among the amusements which they relish most is the pleasure of hearing the music of Rossini sung by Malibran, or the admirable poetry of Racine interpreted by Rachel. There are in the world only two women who can furnish these noble and delicate kinds of entertainment, and unless we could subject them to torture, which would probably not succeed, we have no other way of procuring their services but by addressing ourselves to their good will. Thus the services which we expect from Malibran and Rachel are possessed of great Value. This explanation is prosaic enough, but it is true.
If an opulent banker should desire to gratify his vanity by having the performances of one of these great artistes in his salons, he will soon find by experience the full truth of my theory. He desires a rich treat, a lively satisfaction—he desires it eagerly—and only one person in the world can furnish it. He cannot procure it otherwise than by offering a large remuneration.
Between what extreme limits will the transaction oscillate? The banker will go on till he reaches the point at which he prefers rather to lose the satisfaction than to pay what he deems an extravagant price for it; the singer to that point at which she prefers to accept the remuneration offered, rather than not be remunerated at all. This point of equilibrium determines the value of this particular service, as it does of all others. It may be that in many cases custom fixes this delicate point. There is too much taste in the beau monde to higgle about certain services. The remuneration may even be gracefully disguised, so as to veil the vulgarity of the economic law. That law, however, presides over this transaction, just as it does over the most ordinary bargain; and Value does not change its nature because experience or urbanity dispenses with discussing it formally on every occasion.
This explains how artistes above the usual standard of excellence succeed in realizing great fortunes. Another circumstance favours them. Their services are of such a nature that they can render them, at one and the same time, and by one and the same effort, to [p148] a multitude of individuals. However large the theatre, provided the voice of Rachel can fill it, each spectator enjoys the full pleasure of her inimitable declamation. This is the foundation of a new arrangement. Three or four thousand people, all experiencing the same desire, may come to an understanding, and raise the requisite sum; and the contribution of each to the remuneration of the great tragedienne constitutes the equivalent of the unique service rendered by her to all at once. Such is Value.
As a great number of auditors may combine in order to witness an entertainment of this description, so a number of actors may combine in order to perform in an opera or play. Managers may intervene, to save them the trouble of a multiplicity of trifling accessory arrangements. Value is thus multiplied, ramified, distributed, and rendered complex—but it does not change its nature.
We shall finish with some exceptional cases. Such cases form the best test of a sound theory. When the rule is correct, exceptions do not invalidate, but confirm it.