directly on the rude produce of the earth, falls in the end on the landed proprietors, with a surplus produce, from which the amount of the revenue receives no addition.
These assertions are almost all incontestible, and capable of a rigorous demonstration; and those who have attempted to shew their falsity, have, in general, opposed them only with idle sophistry. Why, then, has this doctrine met with so little success, and why does every day diminish its reputation? because it agrees in no one point with the moral condition, either of societies or of individuals; because it is continually contradicted by experience, and by the infallible instinct of self-interest; because it does not possess that indispensible sanction of all truths, utility. In fact, of what consequence is it, that the labour of agriculture produces not only what covers its own expenses, but new beings which would never have existed without it, and that it has this advantage over the labour of manufactures and commerce? Does it by any means follow from this, that the former kind of labour is more profitable to the community than the latter? The real essence of all wealth, and that which determines its value, is the necessity under which the consumer lies to purchase it; for, in truth, there is no such thing as wealth properly so called, nor absolute value; but the words wealth and value are really nothing more than the co-relatives of consumption and demand. Even the necessaries of life, in a country which is inhabited, but incapable of commercial intercourse, will not form wealth; and to whatever degree of civilization that country may have reached, still the same principle will hold without alteration. If the sum of national wealth shall in any case have exceeded the sum of demands, then a part of the former sum will cease to bear the name of wealth, and will again be without value. In vain, then, will agriculture multiply her produce; for the instant that it exceeds the bounds of actual consumption, a part will lose its value; and self-interest, that prime director of all labour and industry, seeing herself thus deceived in her expectations, will not fail to turn her activity and efforts to another quarter.
In almost every instance, it is an idle refinement to distinguish between the labour of those employed in agriculture, and of those employed in manufactures and commerce; for wealth is necessarily the result of both descriptions of labour, and consumption can no more take place independently of the one, than it can independently of the other. It is by their simultaneous concurrence that any thing becomes consumable, and, of course, that it comes to constitute wealth. How then are we entitled to compare their respective products, since it is impossible to distinguish these in the joint product, and thus appreciate the separate value of each? The value of growing wheat results as much from the industry of the reaper who gathers it in, of the thrasher who separates it from the chaff and straw, of the miller and baker who convert it successively into flour and bread, as it does from that of the ploughman and of the sower. Without the labour of the weaver, the raw material of flax would lose all its value, and be regarded as no way superior to the most useless weed that grows. What then can we gain by any attempts to determine which of these two species of labour conduces most to the advancement of national wealth; or, are they not as idle, as if we busied ourselves in inquiring, whether the right or the left foot is the most useful in walking?