The countryman died, and his son, become master of the inheritance, said to himself: "It must be confessed that my father has, all his life, allowed himself to be duped. He bought iron, and thus paid tribute to England, while our own land could, by an effort, be made to produce iron as well as England. He bought coal, cloths, and oranges, thus paying tribute to New Brunswick, France, and Sicily, very unnecessarily; for coal may be found, doeskins may be made, and oranges may be forced to grow, within our own territory. He paid tribute to the foreign miner and the weaver; our own servants could very well mine our iron and get up native doeskins almost as good as the French article. He did all he could to ruin himself, and gave to strangers what ought to have been kept for the benefit of his own household."
Full of this reasoning, our headstrong fellow determined to change the routine of his crops. He divided his farm into twenty parts. On one he dug for coal; on another he erected a cloth factory; on a third he put a hot-house and cultivated the orange; he devoted the fourth to vines, the fifth to wheat, &c., &c. Thus he succeeded in rendering himself independent, and furnished all his family supplies from his own farm. He no longer received anything from the general circulation; neither, it is true, did he cast anything into it. Was he the richer for this course? No; for his mine did not yield coal as cheaply as he could buy it in the market, nor was the climate favorable to the orange. In short, the family supply of these articles was very inferior to what it had been during the time when the father had obtained them and others by exchange of produce.
With regard to the demand for labor, it certainly was no greater than formerly. There were, to be sure, five times as many fields to cultivate, but they were five times smaller. If coal was mined, there was also less wheat; and because there were no more oranges bought, neither was there any more rye sold. Besides, the farmer could not spend in wages more than his capital, and his capital, instead of increasing, was now constantly diminishing. A great part of it was necessarily devoted to numerous buildings and utensils, indispensable to a person who determines to undertake everything. In short, the supply of labor continued the same, but the means of paying became less.
The result is precisely similar when a nation isolates itself by the prohibitive system. Its number of industrial pursuits is certainly multiplied, but their importance is diminished. In proportion to their number, they become less productive, for the same capital and the same skill are obliged to meet a greater number of difficulties. The fixed capital absorbs a greater part of the circulating capital; that is to say, a greater part of the funds destined to the payment of wages. What remains, ramifies itself in vain; the quantity cannot be augmented. It is like the water of a deep pond, which, distributed among a multitude of small reservoirs, appears to be more abundant, because it covers a greater quantity of soil, and presents a larger surface to the sun, while we hardly perceive that, precisely on this account, it absorbs, evaporates, and loses itself the quicker.
Capital and labor being given, the result is, a sum of production, always the less great in proportion as obstacles are numerous. There can be no doubt that international barriers, by forcing capital and labor to struggle against greater difficulties of soil and climate, must cause the general production to be less, or, in other words, diminish the portion of comforts which would thence result to mankind. If, then, there be a general diminution of comforts, how, working men, can it be possible that your portion should be increased? Under such a supposition it would be necessary to believe that the rich, those who made the law, have so arranged matters, that not only they subject themselves to their own proportion of the general diminution, but taking the whole of it upon themselves, that they submit also to a further loss in order to increase your gains. Is this credible? Is this possible? It is, indeed, a most suspicious act of generosity; and if you act wisely you will reject it.
CHAPTER XIII.
THEORY AND PRACTICE.
Defenders of free trade, we are accused of being mere theorists, of not giving sufficient weight to the practical.
"What a fearful charge against you, free traders," say the protectionists, "is this long succession of distinguished statesmen, this imposing race of writers, who have all held opinions differing from yours!" This we do not deny. We answer, "It is said, in support of established errors, that 'there must be some foundation for ideas so generally adopted by all nations. Should not one distrust opinions and arguments which overturn that which, until now, has been held as settled; that which is held as certain by so many persons whose intelligence and motives make them trustworthy?'"