The bill then imposing heavy duties on foreign articles, besides diminishing the number of the cultivators of the soil, would in some degree operate as a tax on its fruits, because, while the price of manufactures was enormously increased, the value of produce would be more than proportionally diminished. For the cultivator, not only deprived of the benefit of a competition between the domestic and foreign consumer in the sale of his articles, is obliged to purchase those of his neighbour, at any price which his cupidity and the tariff may determine. The expenses of the state being still the same and its usual resources dried up, a general but unequal system of taxation would be adopted, which in fact, the farmer bending under the weight of this partial policy, is less able to pay whatever contribution may be levied. These assertions are by no means novel, they are mere corollaries from the plainest and most undoubted principles of political economy. Dr. Adam Smith, the great father of the science, and all whose views on this subject, though not acted upon in a country whose domestic policy was too firmly established to be changed without a most serious revolution, ought to have great weight with us in the adoption of any permanent system, speaks in this decided manner in his "Wealth of Nations," vol. iii. p. 201. "It is thus that every system which endeavours, either by extraordinary encouragements, to draw towards a particular species of industry a greater share of the capital of the society, than what would naturally go to it; or by extraordinary restraints, to force from particular species of industry some share of the capital which would otherwise be employed in it; is in reality subversive of the great purpose which it means to promote. It retards instead of accelerating the progress of the society towards real wealth and greatness; and diminishes instead of increasing the real value of the annual produce of its land and labour. All systems either of preference or restraint therefore, being thus completely taken away, the obvious and simple system of natural liberty establishes itself of its own accord. Every man, as long as he does not violate the laws of justice, is left perfectly free to pursue his own interest his own way, and to bring both his industry and capital into competition with those of any other man or order of men." M. Say, a man no less remarkable for his practical knowledge of manufacturing industry, than his profound acquaintance with every branch of economical science, has given his marked disapprobation of that system which we are discussing. "Lorsqu'au travers de cette marche naturelle des choses," says he, "l'autorité se montre et dit: le produit, qu'on veut créer, celui qui donne les meilleurs profits, et par conséquent celui qui est le plus recherché, n'est pas celui qui convient, il faut qu'on s'occupe de tel autre; elle dirige évidemment une partie de la production vers un genre, dont le besoin se fait sentir davantage." Traité d'Economic Politique, tom. i. p. 168. We can only refer to pages 172 and 201 for the expansion of these ideas. It is thus we find that the arguments adduced in favour of this system neither accord with the convictions of fact nor the suggestions of reason. Whenever the increasing capital devoted to the land can no longer be profitably employed, then manufactures will flourish and the surplus profits of agriculture be legitimately devoted to their support.
During the late war, the prospect of large gains caused by the extravagant price of all European commodities, caused many persons in our country to embark their fortunes in cotton and woollen factories.—These factories were brought into being by a temporary and unnatural state of things. On the return of the peace of 1814, many of these manufacturing establishments came of necessity to an end. Some establishments remain and ought to succeed, because they prove that the profits of their capital may enter into competition with that employed in agriculture. In this case the transfer is not only natural but conducive to national wealth.
But we are asked to patronise manufactures at the expense of agriculture, on the ground of our being rendered really more independent by them. This is, however, but an attempt to conceal private interest under the garb of patriotism,[5] and ought at least to awaken suspicion. We are not to be called dependant merely because a state of war might give rise to many inconveniences. We can do without silks or broadcloths while we possess the real means of sustenance and defence. But these factories once established, say the advocates of this interest, the citizens ought to support them in their present languishing condition, and therefore ought not to buy, even at a much less price, foreign articles in preference to our own. The force and propriety of such reasoning would appear to be similar to that of a gardener, who having in winter devoted himself to the cultivation of flowers, &c., by means of artificial heat, should in the spring apply for an act of the municipal authority, forbidding all persons to pluck a daisy or violet in the field, and requiring them to resort to his hot-house. So far from there being a necessity for any interference on the part of government, we believe we may assert that our manufactures never were so flourishing as since the peace. It is true that many establishments have been broken up and much capital sunk, but it is a fact that those factories which are in the hands of individuals, have generally been successful, while those conducted by incorporated companies wanting the circumspection and prudence of private interest, have as often become bankrupt. In the western states this branch of business has greatly improved, and recent information enables us to affirm, that the profits which are now realised are nearly as large as those during the war. In the east, we might cite an instance, which must put down all cavil on this subject. The cotton factory at Waltham near Boston, begun when manufactures were by no means in so promising a situation as at present, is a triumphant answer to every one who demands additional encouragement for the loom, and a new tax on his brethren to extend its operations.
But we hasten to return from our wanderings, and to introduce our readers to the work, of which we have prefixed the title to this article. It is in the form of letters addressed to Professor Pictet of Geneva, from various places in Italy, and contains the author's remarks upon that country. He dwells not on the palaces of Venice, neither worships at the altar of Roman genius in the Pantheon, but taking his silent way through the fields, he describes that which gave birth to both: he informs us of the processes of Italian farming, of the effects of irrigation, and of the general state of Italian agriculture. And, in our opinion, he has shewn as much taste in the execution of his design, as those travellers who have employed themselves upon inquiries commonly thought as interesting, but certainly not as useful. M. de Chateauvieux appears to be an enthusiastic admirer of the subject on which he writes, as well as to have a practical knowledge of all its details. His book is very little known among us, though it has lately been translated in England, and formerly occupied the attention of a celebrated critical journal of that country. It is our intention in this article to put our readers in mind of its existence.
The author divides Italy into three regions, distinguished by their different systems of cultivation.—The first extends from mount Cenis and the Alps of Suza to the shores of the Adriatic. The fertility of Lombardy is proved by the constant succession of its crops, and to this province he has given the name of "Pays de Culture par assolement," or the district of culture by rotation of crops. The second of the regions reposes on the southern declivity of the Appenines, from the frontiers of Provence to the boundaries of Calabria. This is called the District of Olive trees, or, by an association somewhat forced, of Canaanitish culture. The third region is that of Malaria, or patriarchal cultivation, from a supposed resemblance, which we are still less able to enter into, between the shepherds of the older and the present time. It is found from Pisa to Terracina, and comprehends the plain between the sea and the first ridge of the Appenines.
Lombardy has been often called the garden of Europe, and seems abundantly entitled to the appellation. The soil is not only rich and alluvial, but deep and perfectly level. The climate is humid, and the system of irrigation supplies water to almost every field. These circumstances, united to the heat of a southern sun, cause a most rapid and luxurious vegetation. Nothing can be more important in the economy of a farm than the situation of the farm-house and its out-buildings. In this respect our American farmers are lamentably deficient, and though we would not recommend as a model the one described by de Chateauvieux as common in Lombardy, still we think it would afford some valuable hints. The buildings raised on the four sides of a square, present on one side a central elevation of two stories. The lower part for the farmer, the upper story for his grain. Adjoining this, at each end, is a stable plastered so as not to let the dust descend, for the cows and oxen; the other three sides of the square are enclosed by a sort of portico, open within and supported by columns, which serves as a depository for straw, hay, &c.—This structure is about twenty-four feet broad, and fifteen high. Half the court is paved, the remainder is used for threshing out the corn, which, in the primitive way, is still done by horses. The place for manure is outside of the court. This plan presents the most space with the least building, and assures the preservation of every product.
The farms in Lombardy are small, and do not often contain sixty arpents;[6] notwithstanding M. de Chateauvieux asserts against Arthur Young, that they bring more to market than the large farms, and that there is no country in the world which can dispose of so large a portion of its productions as Piedmont. If the fact be so, it may possibly arise from the peculiar character of the persons who cultivate the land.—Our author, however, remarks, that this system of small farms can never take place till the advances of capital have carried agriculture to its highest point. Lombardy is cultivated by a species of farmers, called metayers. They pay a small fixed rent, valued at one half the produce of the meadow, or forty francs the arpent. The clover belongs to them entirely; the crops of wheat, Indian corn, and flax, and the wine and silk are equally divided between them and their landlord. The latter advances nothing but the taxes, and of course must find such an arrangement singularly advantageous. Father and son continue the same engagement, without the formality of a lease or any registry of the contract. M. Say regards this system as unfavourable to agriculture, and in his treatise on Political Economy, book ii. chap. 9, vol. 2, says, "il y a des cultivateurs qui n'ont rien, et auxquels le propriétaire fournit le capital avec la terre: on les appelle des Métayers. Ils rendent communément au propriétaire la moitié du produit brut. Ce genre de culture appartient à un état peu avancé de l'agriculture, et il est le plus défavorable de tout aux améliorations des terres; car celui des deux, du proprietaire ou du fermier, qui ferait l'améliarition à ses frais, admettrait l'autre à jouir gratuitement de la moitié de l'interêt de ses avances."
(To be concluded in next Number.)