Without some limitations, no question can be more difficult to resolve than this; it must therefore be examined only in so far as it comes under the influence of certain principles. It is as impossible to estimate the real force of a nation, as it is to estimate that of any considerable quantity of gun-powder, and for the same reason. The nation cannot exert all its force at once, no more than the powder can be all inflamed at once, and the successive efforts of a small power, are never equally effectual with the momentous shock of a great one. In proportion, therefore, as the spirit of individuals is moved to concur with the public measure, a people become powerful; and as I know of no principle which can regulate such affections of the mind, we must throw them quite out of the question, and measure the power of nations by the quantity of men and money at a statesman’s command, in consequence of the oeconomy he has established. Let me then suppose two nations, where the number of inhabitants, and weight of gold and silver are absolutely the same, military genius and discipline quite equal. From what has been said, we must determine that nation to be the strongest, which, without disturbing the oeconomy of their state, can raise the greatest proportion of men, and draw the greatest proportion of money into the public coffers.
When the number of inhabitants is given, the first thing to be known is the nature of the produce of the country, whether mostly in corn, wine, or pasture: the more the ground is laboured, and the more crops it yearly produces, the fewer free hands it will maintain in proportion to the whole, this computation must then proceed upon the principles laid down above, Book I. Chap. 8.
When once you come at the number of free hands, you must examine the state of luxury. Luxury is justly said to effeminate a nation, because the great multitude of hands taken up in supplying the instruments of it to the rich, diminishes greatly the number of such as can be employed in war. If manufacturers and folks accustomed to a sedentary life, are at a certain age taken from trades, to compose armies, they will make bad soldiers; and the strength of a nation lies chiefly in the valour and strength of the soldiery. Luxury therefore effeminates a nation in general; but it does not follow from hence, that the most luxurious are the most effeminate, and most improper for war; on the contrary, they are found to be the bravest and most proper. The effeminacy and baseness of mind, in point of courage, are found in the sedentary multitude. The truth of this might be proved from many examples in antient history, if the present situation of Europe left the smallest room to doubt of it.
The more therefore that luxury prevails in a country, the fewer good troops can be raised in it, and vice versa. But it is not sufficient to have men for war, the men must be enabled to subsist, and in the modern way of making war, their subsistence and other expences require large sums of money. We must then examine what proportion of the general wealth may be applied to this purpose.
If in any country the riches be found in few hands, the state will be poor; because the opulence of the public treasure depends greatly upon a right and proportional distribution of wealth among the inhabitants. Riches are only acquired three ways. First, Gratuitously, as by succession, gift, or the like; secondly, by industry; and lastly, by penury. Those who are poor are seldom enriched gratuitously, never by penury, and always by industry; when a poor man grows rich in any state, he changes in so far the balance of wealth, for what is added to him is taken from another. When a spirit of industry prevails, the balance is always turning in favour of the industrious, and as it is a pretty general rule, that the rich are not the most laborious, so the balance is generally turning against them. This being the case, the more that industry prevails, the quicker will this revolution be brought on. By such revolutions, wealth becomes equably distributed; for by being equably distributed, I do not mean, that every individual comes to have an equal share, but an equal chance, I may say a certainty, of becoming rich in proportion to his industry. Riches which are acquired by succession, or any other gratuitous means, do not in the least contribute to circulation, the owner, as has been said, only changes his name. Those made by penury or hoarding, instead of adding to, evidently diminish circulation. It is, therefore, by industry alone that wealth is made to circulate, and it is by its circulation only, that money is useful. When large sums are locked up, they produce nothing; they are therefore locked up not to be useful while they remain secreted; but that they may be useful when brought out in order to be alienated. In a state, therefore, where there are a few very rich and many very poor, there must be much money locked up; for without money none can be rich, and if it were not locked up it must fall into the hands of the poor. Why? Because the rich will not give it to the rich, gratuitously, nor will they labour to acquire it; either then the common people must be lazy and unwilling to work, or the rich must be so penurious and addicted to hoarding as to keep it out of the hands of the poor. In both which cases, if there be money in the country, it must be found in coffers.
From these positions it may be concluded, that wealth which produces nothing to its owner, cannot be supposed to produce any thing to the state: consequently, that state in which there is the quickest circulation of money, is, cæteris paribus, that in which the greatest proportion of the general wealth may be raised for the public service. This is all that is necessary to observe at present: when we have examined the nature of credit and taxes, and the principles upon which they may be levied in different countries, and under different forms of government, we shall discover more rules for estimating the force of different states.
The principles of industry have been so interwoven with those of trade, through all the chapters of this second book, that it is now proper, before we dismiss the subject, to examine a little into the nature of the first, considered more abstractedly, and more detached from its relation to the equivalent given for it, which is the proper characteristic of trade, and from which proceeds the intimate connection between them.
The object of our enquiry hitherto has been to discover the method of engaging a free people in the advancement of the one and the other, as a means of making their society live in ease, by reciprocally contributing to the relief of each others wants. Let us next examine some farther consequences. We are now to cast our eyes upon another view of this extensive landscape, where the personal advantages, immediately felt from this gentle band of mutual dependence, are not to fix our attention so much as the effects produced by industry upon the face of things, and manners of a people.
The better to transmit this idea, which I find a little dark, let me say, that hitherto we have treated our subject, according to the principles which should direct a statesman, to advance trade and industry, by engaging the rich to give bread to the poor. Now we are to examine the consequences resulting from the execution of this plan; and compare the difference between a country which has been inhabited by a people abundantly provided for without industry and labour, and one occupied by another who have subsisted by these means: and farther, we are to examine industry as producing effects more or less hurtful to the simplicity of manners, and more or less permanent and beneficial, according as it has been directed towards different objects.
I can easily suppose a nation living in the greatest simplicity, even going naked, but abundantly fed, either with the spontaneous fruits of the earth, or by an agriculture proportioned to the wants of every one, and where very little alienation or exchange takes place. From this primitive life, as I may call it, the degrees of industry, like imperceptible shades, may be augmented; and the augmentation, as I apprehend, is to be measured, not so much by the degree of occupation which the inhabitants pursue, as by the quantity of permutation among them; because I think permutation implies superfluity of something[[N]].