to find employment for it; and, if the progress continued, part of it would most undoubtedly be sent to other countries, and so be the means of impoverishing this.
If, then, we could suppose fifty years of peace, and that the national debt could be paid off, (as it might be in that time,) the situation of productive labourers would be worse; of unproductive, better; and, finally, capital would leave the country, which would be deprived of that transferable stock, the beneficial effects of which have been mentioned.
The necessity that creates industry would be diminished, so that nothing could tend more effectually to bring on the decline of the nation than if all the debt were to be paid off; an operation which, though possible in calculation, never certainly would take place; the evils attending it would be so manifest, so clear, and so palpably felt before that was accomplished.
To let the national debt continue to increase is, then, certain ruin, at some period unknown, but perhaps not very distant; to pay it off would be equally dangerous: what then are we to do?
We must try to raise the resources necessary for war within the year, by which means we may avoid augmenting the debt. That is not, however, to be done while the present heavy interest remains, and that cannot be got rid of, according to any method yet publicly known, without bankruptcy, breaking faith with creditors, or paying off the debt; a resource in itself dangerous, and one that, after all, would bring relief at a very distant day.
Since the debt has been contracted, let it be kept up; but let a mode be taken of reducing the interest, without breaking faith with the creditors of the state, so that we may never be obliged to borrow any more.
At present, the sum that goes annually for interest, and for the sinking fund, (that is for paying off capital,) amounts to twenty-four millions, and the expenses of a year of war do not exceed that sum. Twelve millions of this may be found by war-taxes, and twelve millions diminution of the interest would just leave a residue sufficient to pay for a constant state of war; and, if peace came, the war-taxes would be taken off. The enemies of England would then not be able to make notches [end of page #242] in a stick, and say, "When we come to such a notch England will be ruined."
If this could be done it would be a solid and permanent system of revenue, arising out of an unsolid and transitory one.
Any thing like want of faith with the creditors would, however, not only be disgraceful and dishonourable, but would reduce such numbers to beggary, and ruin credit so completely, that the nation would be lost for ever; and, certainly, if we are to be ruined, there is no balancing between ruin with honour and ruin with disgrace.
There is a mode that would be fair and practicable, and the present is the most favourable moment for executing it; indeed, it is perhaps the only one when it has been practicable or would be just. By practicability and justice, two words very well understood, we mean, in this instance, that it is a moment when those who would have to pay the difference would be willing to do it, would see their interest in doing it, and would feel that they ought to do it.