[N]. Our first parents, placed in Paradise, were fed from the hand of God, and freed by the constitution of their nature, from every uneasy animal desire. Since the fall, the whole human species have been employed in contriving and executing methods for relieving the wants which are the consequences of such desires.
Hence I conclude, that had the fall never taken place, the pursuits of man would have been totally different from what they are at present. May I be allowed to suppose, that in such a happy state, he might have been endowed with a faculty of transmitting his most complex ideas with the same perspicuity with which we now transmit those relating to geometry, numbers, colours, &c. From this I infer, there would have been no difference of sentiment, no dispute, no competition between man and man. The progress in acquiring useful knowledge, the pleasure of communicating discoveries, would alone have provided a fund of happiness, as inexhaustible as knowledge itself.
Mankind, therefore, set out upon a system of living without labour, without industry, without wants, without dependence, without subordination; consequently, had they remained in that state, the lapse of time would have produced no change upon any thing, but the state of knowledge. Banished from Paradise, man began to plow the ground, consequently to change her surface: he built houses, made bridges, traced roads, and by degrees has come, in different ages, to please and gratify his inclinations, by numberless occupations and pursuits, constantly dictated to him by his wants; that is, by his imperfections, and by the desires which they inspire. When these are satisfied, his physical happiness is carried as far as possible; but as mankind seldom remain in a state of contentment, and that our nature constantly prompts us to add something new to our former enjoyments, so it naturally happens, that societies once established, and living in peace, pass from one degree of refinement to another, that is to say, man daily becomes more laborious.
A people then lives in the utmost simplicity, when the earth is so far in common, as that none can acquire the property of it, but in virtue of his possession as the means of subsistence; and when every one is employed in providing necessaries for himself, and for those who belong to him. The moment any one has occasion for the service of another, independent of him, he must have an equivalent to give. This equivalent must be something moveable, some fruit of the earth, pure or modified, superfluous, not necessary, not the earth itself, because this is the foundation of his subsistence; and he can never alienate what is essential to his being, in order to procure a superfluity. From this we may deduce a principle that the alienation of consumable commodities is a consequence of superfluity alone, as this again is the bane of simplicity. Consequently, he who would carry simplicity to the utmost length, ought to proscribe all alienation; consequently, all dependence among men; consequently, all subordination: every one ought to be entirely dependent upon his own labour, and nothing else.
Were man either restored to his primitive state of innocence, or reduced to a state of brutality; were his pursuits either purely spiritual, or did they extend no farther than to the gratification of his animal desires, and acquisition of his physical-necessary; such an oeconomy might be compatible with society. But as we stand in a middle state between the two, and have certain desires which participate of the one and of the other, the gratification of which constitute what we have called our political-necessary (which we cannot procure to ourselves, because the very nature of it implies superiority and subordination, as well as a mutual dependence among men) a total obstruction to alienation becomes compatible with government, consequently with human society; and this being the case, all simplicity of manners is only relative. Our fathers looked upon the manners of their ancestors as simple, these again admired the simplicity of the patriarchs; and perhaps the time may come, when the manners of the eighteenth century may be called the noble simplicity of the antients.
As simplicity of manners is therefore relative, let us decide, that as long as superfluity does more good in providing for the poor, than hurt in corrupting the rich; so far it is to be approved of and no farther.
Here it is urged, that since superfluity is only good, so far as it provides subsistence for the poor, why may not the pursuits of industry be turned towards objects which cannot corrupt the mind? Why, in place of fine clothes, elegant entertainments, magnificent furniture, carving, gildings, and embroidery, with all the splendor to be seen in palaces, gardens, operas, balls, and masquerades, processions, shews, horse-races, and diversions of every kind, why might not, I say, the multitudes which are employed in supplying these transitory gratifications of human weakness (not to call them by a worse name) be employed in making highways, bridges, canals, fountains, fortifications, harbours, public buildings, and a thousand other works, both useful to society, and of good example to succeeding generations? Such employments are eternal monuments of grandeur, they are of lasting utility, and are no more to be compared to the trifling industry of our days, than an Egyptian pyramid is to be compared with the luxury of Cleopatra, or the via appia with the suppers of Heliogabalus. This was the taste in the virtuous days of antient simplicity: the greatness of a people appeared in the magnificence of useful works, and as virtue disappeared, a luxury resembling that of modern times took place. The aqueducts, common sewers, temples, highways, and burying places were the ornaments of consular Rome. The imperial grandeur of that city shone out in amphitheatres and baths; and the turpitude of manners (say the patrons of simplicity) which brought on the decline, ought to terrify those who make the apology of modern luxury and dissipation.
In order to set this question in a clear light, and to do justice both to the antients and moderns, let us once more enter into an examination of circumstances, and seek for effects in the causes which produce them. These are uniform in all ages; and if manners are different, the difference must be accounted for, without overturning the principles of reason and common sense.
Quest. 7. In what manner, therefore, may a statesman establish industry, so as not to destroy simplicity, nor occasion a sudden revolution in the manners of his people, the great classes of which are supposed to live secure in ease and happiness; and, at the same time, so as to provide every one with necessaries who may be in want?
The observations we are going to make will point out the answer to this question: they will unfold still farther the political oeconomy of the antients, and explain how manners remained so pure from vicious luxury, notwithstanding the great and sumptuous works carried on, which strike us with so lofty an idea of their useful magnificence and noble simplicity. These observations will also confirm the justness of a distinction made, in the first chapter of this book, between labour and industry; by shewing that labour may ever be procured, even by force, at the expence of furnishing man with his physical-necessary, from which no superfluity can proceed: whereas industry cannot be established, but by an adequate equivalent, proportioned, not to the absolutely necessary, but to the reasonable desire of the industrious; which equivalent becomes afterwards the means of diffusing a luxurious disposition among all the classes of a people.