First, it might occur to two or more men to combine their labour and their time. While they do not threaten the security, infringe the liberty, or usurp the property of others, neither directly nor indirectly, if they do any mischief, they do it to themselves. The tendency of such men will be always to attempt in remote places the realization of their dream. Whoever has reflected upon these matters knows these enthusiasts will probably perish from want, victims to their illusions. In our times, Communists of this description have given to their imaginary elysium the name of Icaria,* as if they had had a melancholy presentiment of the frightful end towards which they were hastening. We may lament over their blindness; we should try to rescue them if they were in a state to hear us, but society has nothing to fear from their chimeras.

* This, as most of our readers are aware, is an imaginary
country at the other side of the world, where a state of
circumstances is supposed to exist productive of general
happiness—moral and physical—to all. The chief creator of
this modern Utopia, from which indeed the idea is
confessedly taken, is M. Cabet, whose book was published
during the year of the late revolution in France. It is
meant to be a grave essay on possible things, but could only
be considered so, we venture to think, in Paris, and only
there in times of unusual excitement. The means by which M.
Cabet and his followers suppose their peculiar society could
be established and maintained, are beyond conception false,
ludicrous, and puerile.
M. Cabet was obliged to leave France for a grave offence,
but found a refuge and no inconsiderable number of followers
in America, where, by the side of much that is excellent and
hopeful, flourishes, perhaps, under present circumstances,
as a necessary parallel, many of the wild and exploded
theories of the world.

Another form of Communism, and decidedly the coarsest, is this: throw into a mass all the existing property, and then share it equally. It is spoliation becoming the dominant and universal law. It is the destruction, not only of property, but also of labour and of the springs of action which induce men to work. This same Communism is so violent, so absurd, so monstrous, that in truth I cannot believe it to be dangerous. I said this some time ago before a considerable assembly of electors, the great majority of whom belonged to the suffering classes. My words were received with loud murmurs.

I expressed my surprise at it. 'What,' said they, 'dares M. Bastiat say that Communism is not dangerous? He is then a Communist! Well, we suspected as much, for Communists, Socialists, Economists, are all of the same order, as it is proved by the termination of the words.' I had some difficulty in recovering myself; but even this interruption proved the truth of my proposition. No, Communism is not dangerous, when it shows itself in its most naked form, that of pure and simple spoliation; it is not dangerous, because it excites horror.

I hasten to say, that if Protection can be and ought to be likened to Communism, it is not that which I am about to attack.

But Communism assumes a third form:—

To make the state interfere to, let it take upon itself to adjust profits and to equalize men's possessions by taking from some, without their consent, to give to others without any return, to assume the task of putting things on an equality by robbery, assuredly is Communism to the fullest extent. It matters not what may be the means employed by the state with this object, no more than the sounding names with which they dignify this thought. Whether they pursue its realization by direct or indirect means, by restriction or by impost, by tariffs or by the right of labour; whether they call it by the watchword of equality, of mutual responsibility, of fraternity, that does not change the nature of things; the violation of property is not less robbery because it is accomplished with regularity, order, and system, and under the forms of law.

I repeat that it is here, at this juncture, that Communism is really dangerous. Why? Because under this form we see it incessantly ready to taint everything. Behold the proof! One demands that the state should supply gratuitously to artisans, to labourers, the instruments of labour,* that is, to encourage them to take them from other artisans and labourers. Another wishes that the state should lend without interest; this could not be done without violating property. A third calls for gratuitous education to all degrees; gratuitous! that is to say, at the expense of the tax-payers.**

* By this phrase we believe is meant much more than the
English words might indicate—the supplying all the capital
necessary to start the artisan in the world.
** We think, with Adam Smith and most others, that education
and religious instruction may fairly and properly, if the
occasion requires, be excepted from this rule, on the ground
that as they are most beneficial to the whole of society—
their effects not stopping short with the persons receiving
the immediate benefits—'they may, without injustice, be
defrayed by the general contribution of the whole society.'
We by no means say, however, that this public support should
supersede voluntary contribution.

A fourth requires that the state should support the associations of workmen, the theatres, the artists, See. But the means necessary for such support is so much money taken from those who have legitimately made it. A fifth is dissatisfied unless the state artificially raises the price of a particular product for the benefit of those who sell it; but it is to the detriment of those who buy. Yes, under this form, there are very few people who at one time or an other would not be Communists. You are so yourself; M. Billault is; and I fear that in France we are all so in some degree. It seems that the intervention of the state reconciles us to robbery, in throwing the responsibility of it on all the world; that is to say, on no one; and it is thus that we sport with the wealth of others in perfect tranquillity of conscience. That honest M. Tourret, one of the most upright of men who ever sat upon the ministerial bench, did he not thus commence his statement in favour of the scheme for the advancement of public money for agricultural purposes? 'It is not sufficient to give instruction for the cultivation of the arts. We must also supply the instruments of labour.' After this preamble, he submits to the National Assembly a proposition, the first heading of which runs thus:—