Table of Contents

• Introduction
• Endnotes

[i]

INTRODUCTION.

The person most likely to be deceived about the merit and significance of a book, after the author, is certainly the translator. Perhaps I am not exempt from this rule, for I do not hesitate to say that the book I am publishing, if it were to be read, would be a kind of revelation for my country. In matters of trade, freedom is considered here as a utopia, or something even worse. The principle may well be granted as true in the abstract; it may be conceded that it fits appropriately into a work of theory. But that is where it ends. It is not even honored with being held as true except on one condition: that it remains forever confined, along with the book that contains it, to the dust of libraries; that it exercises no influence on practice, and that it yields the domain of real affairs to its opposite principle — prohibition, restriction, protection — which is thereby admitted to be, abstractly speaking, false. If there are still a few economists who, amid the void that has formed around them, have not entirely let go of their sacred faith in the principle of freedom, they hardly dare, with an uncertain gaze, to seek its doubtful [ii] triumph in the depths of the future. Like those seeds buried under thick layers of inert earth, destined to sprout only when some cataclysm brings them back to the surface, exposing them to the life-giving rays of the sun, they see the sacred seed of liberty buried beneath the harsh shell of passions and prejudices, and they do not dare to count the number of social revolutions that must unfold before it is brought into contact with the light of truth. They do not suspect, or at least do not seem to suspect, that the bread of the strong, turned into milk for the weak, has been lavishly distributed to an entire contemporary generation; that the great principle — the right to exchange — has broken free of its shell, that it has spread like a torrent through the human mind, that it animates an entire great nation, that it has established an indomitable public opinion there, that it is about to take possession of human affairs, that it is preparing to absorb the economic legislation of a great people! That is the good news contained in this book. Will it reach your ears, friends of freedom, advocates of the unity of people, apostles of universal human fraternity, defenders of the working classes, without rekindling in your hearts confidence, zeal, and courage? Yes. If this book could penetrate beneath the cold stone that covers Tracy, Say, Comte, I believe the bones of these illustrious philanthropists would tremble with joy in their tombs.

But alas! I do not forget the restriction I myself [iii] posed: If this book is read. COBDEN! The League! THE EMANCIPATION OF TRADE! Who is Cobden? Who in France has heard of Cobden? It is true that posterity will attach his name to one of those great social reforms that, from time to time, mark humanity’s progress along the path of civilization: the restoration, not of the so-called right to work, according to the empty rhetoric of the day, but of the sacred right of working for its just and natural remuneration. It is true that Cobden is to Smith what propagation is to invention; that, assisted by his many comrades in labor, he has popularized social science; that, by dispelling from the minds of his countrymen the prejudices that sustain monopoly, this internal plunder, and conquest, this external plunder ; by thus undermining that blind antagonism which pits classes against classes and nations against nations, he has prepared a future of peace and fraternity for humanity, founded not on some utopian self-renunciation, but on the indestructible love of self-preservation and individual progress; a sentiment which some have tried to discredit under the name of self-interest rightly understood, but to which, one must acknowledge, God has entrusted the conservation and progress of the human race. It is true that this calling has taken place in our time, under our sky, at our very doorstep, and that it continues to shake to its very foundation a nation whose slightest movements usually preoccupy us to excess. And yet, who has heard of Cobden? Ah, [iv] good heavens! We have far more important things to concern ourselves with than a movement that, after all, seeks only to change the face of the world! Should we not rather be assisting M. Thiers in replacing M. Guizot, or M. Guizot in replacing M. Thiers? Are we not threatened with a new invasion of barbarians in the form of Egyptian oil or Sardinian meat? And would it not be truly regrettable if we diverted our attention, even for a moment, from such matters to something as trivial as the free communication of people, an attention that has been so usefully absorbed by the affairs of Noukahiva, Papéete, and Muscat?

The League! What League do you mean? Has England produced some Guise or Mayenne? Are the Catholics and Anglicans about to fight another Battle of Ivry? Is the unrest you talk about linked to the Irish unrest? Are there to be wars, battles, bloodshed? Perhaps then our curiosity might be piqued, for we have a profound admiration for displays of brute force! And besides, we take such an exquisite interest in religious questions, we have, after all, become such devoted Catholics, such ardent Papists of late!

The Emancipation of Trade! What a disappointment! What an anticlimax! Is the right to exchange, if it even is a right, worth our attention? Freedom of speech, of writing, of teaching? Very well! These are matters one may occasionally reflect on during idle moments, when the supreme question — the ministerial question — momentarily loosens its grip on our faculties. For, after all, these freedoms interest men of leisure. But the freedom to buy and sell! The [v] freedom to dispose of the fruits of one’s labor and to obtain, through exchange, all that it can justly yield; why, that concerns the people, the working man, the very life of the laborer! Besides, trade and exchange, how prosaic! And at best, it’s a question of well-being and justice. Well-being! Oh! too material, too materialist for an age of such noble self-denial as ours. Justice! Oh! too cold. If only it were a matter of charity, what eloquent speeches we could craft! And how delightful it is to persevere in injustice while simultaneously displaying boundless charity and philanthropy!

"The die is cast," cried Kepler; "I am writing my book; whether it is read in the present age or by posterity, what does it matter? It can wait for its reader." I am not Kepler. I have not wrested any secrets from nature. I am merely a humble and very mediocre translator. And yet, I dare to say, like the great man, this book can wait; its reader will come, sooner or later. For surely, if my country persists a little longer in the voluntary ignorance it seems to cherish regarding the immense revolution shaking all of Britain’s soil, one day it will be struck with astonishment at the sight of this volcanic fire... no, this benevolent light, shining from the North. One day — and that day is not far off — it will learn, suddenly, with no forewarning: England has opened all [vi] her ports; she has torn down every barrier that separated her from other nations; she once had fifty colonies, now she has but one, and that is the world. She trades with all who wish to trade; she buys without demanding to sell; she accepts all relations without imposing any; she invites the invasion of your products; England has freed both labor and trade. So perhaps one will want to know how, by whom, and for how long this revolution was prepared; in what impenetrable underground, in what unknown catacombs it was woven, what mysterious Freemasonry wove its threads; and this book will be here to answer: "And, my God! It happened in broad daylight, or at least in the open air (for they say there is no sun in England). It was accomplished in public, through a debate that lasted ten years, carried on simultaneously across all parts of the country. This debate increased the number of English newspapers and lengthened their format; it gave birth to thousands of tons of brochures and pamphlets; its progress was anxiously followed in the United States, in China, and even among the savage hordes of black Africans. You alone, Frenchmen, were unaware of it. And why? I could say, but is it wise to do so? No matter! Truth urges me, and I will say it. It is because among us, there are two great corrupters who bribe the press. One is called Monopoly, and the other, Party Spirit. The first said: ‘I need hatred to stand between France and foreign nations, for if [vii] nations did not hate one another, they would eventually come to understand, to unite, to love one another, and perhaps — horrible thought! — to exchange with one another the fruits of their industry.’ The second said: ‘I need national enmities, because I aspire to power, and I will reach it if I can surround myself with as much popularity as I can strip from my adversaries; if I portray them as having sold out to a foreigner ready to invade us, and if I present myself as the savior of the homeland.’ Thus, an alliance was formed between Monopoly and Party Spirit, and it was decided that all newspaper articles regarding foreign affairs would consist of two things: concealment and distortion. This is how France was systematically kept in ignorance of the fact that this book aims to reveal. But how could the newspapers succeed? Does that surprise you? It surprises me too. But their success is undeniable.

However, and precisely because I am about to introduce the reader (if I have a reader) to a world entirely foreign to him, I must be allowed to preface this translation with some general considerations on the economic regime of Great Britain, on the causes that gave birth to the League, and on the spirit and significance of this association from a social, moral, and political perspective.

It has often been said and is frequently repeated that the economic school, which entrusts the interests of various social classes to the "natural laws of economic gravitation", was born in England. From this, people have hastily concluded — with astonishing [viii] recklessness — that the terrifying contrast between opulence and poverty that characterizes Great Britain is the result of the ideas proclaimed with such authority by Adam Smith and expounded so methodically by J.-B. Say. People seem to believe that freedom reigns supremely across the Channel and presides over the unequal distribution of wealth there.

"He had witnessed," said M. Mignet a few days ago, speaking of M. Sismondi, "he had witnessed the great economic revolution of our time. He had followed and admired the brilliant effects of doctrines that had freed labor, overturned the barriers that guilds, masterships, internal customs duties, and multiple monopolies had erected against its products and exchanges; that had fostered abundant production and the free circulation of wealth, etc.

"But soon he had delved deeper, and less reassuring spectacles, less conducive to pride in human progress or confidence in human happiness, presented themselves to him in the very country where these new theories had developed most rapidly and completely, in England, where they reigned supreme. What had he seen there? All the grandeur, but also all the excesses, of unlimited production... each closed market reducing entire populations to starvation, the disorders of competition, this state of nature among interests, often more deadly than the ravages of war; he had seen man reduced to being merely a cog in a machine [ix] more intelligent than himself, crammed into unhealthy places where life expectancy did not reach half its natural duration, where family bonds were broken, and moral ideas were lost... In short, he had seen extreme poverty and a frightening degradation sadly counterbalancing and silently threatening the prosperity and splendor of a great people.

"Surprised and troubled, he wondered whether a science that sacrificed human happiness to the production of wealth... was truly a science... From that moment, he claimed that political economy should concern itself far less with the abstract production of wealth than with its just distribution."

Let us note, in passing, that political economy is no more concerned with production (let alone production in the abstract) than it is with the distribution of wealth. It is labor, it is exchange, which are the things with which it is concerned. Political economy is not an art but a science. It imposes nothing, it does not even advise, and therefore it sacrifices nothing; it simply describes how wealth is produced and distributed, just as physiology describes the workings of our organs. And it would be as unjust to blame political economy for the misfortunes of society as it would be to attribute the diseases afflicting the human body to physiology.

Be that as it may, the widely held ideas of which M. Mignet has become the all-too-eloquent interpreter naturally lead to the exercise of arbitrary power. In the face of this revolting inequality that economic theory — [x] let us be blunt — that freedom itself is supposed to have engendered, precisely where it reigns with the greatest authority, it is entirely natural that one should accuse it, reject it, denounce it, and seek refuge in artificial social arrangements, in organized labor systems, in coerced associations of capital and labor, in utopias, in short, where freedom is first sacrificed as being incompatible with the reign of equality and fraternity among men.

It is not part of our purpose here to expound the idea of free trade or to refute the many manifestations of those schools which, in our time, have usurped the name of socialism, and which have nothing in common among themselves except that very usurpation.

But it is important to establish here that, far from the economic regime of Great Britain being founded on the principle of liberty, far from wealth being distributed there in a natural manner, and far indeed from, as M. de Lamartine so aptly put it, each industry achieving through liberty a justice that no arbitrary system (of power) could grant it; there is no country in the world, except for those still afflicted by slavery, where the theory of Smith, the idea of laissez-faire, laissez-passer, is less practiced than in England, or where man has become an object which is more systematically exploited by his fellow man.

Nor should it be believed, as might be objected, that it is precisely free competition that has, over time, led to the subjugation of labor to capital and of the working class to the [xi] idle class. No, this unjust domination cannot be considered the result, nor even the abuse, of a principle that has never guided British industry. To determine its origin, one would have to go back to a time that was certainly not an era of liberty, the Norman conquest of England.

But without retracing here the history of the two races that have trod on British soil and have engaged in so many bloody struggles of a civil, political, and religious kind, it is appropriate to recall their respective positions from an economic point of view.

It is well known that the English aristocracy owns the entire surface of the country. Moreover, it holds legislative power in its hands. The only question is whether it has used this power in the interest of the community or in its own self-interest.

"If our financial code," said Mr. Cobden, addressing the aristocracy itself in Parliament, "if the statute book could reach the moon, alone and without any historical commentary, that alone would be enough for its inhabitants to learn that it is the work of an assembly of landlords."

When an aristocratic race possesses both the right to make the law and the power to enforce it, it is, unfortunately, all too true that it has made the law to its own advantage. This is a painful truth. It will grieve, I know, those benevolent souls who count on the reform of abuses not through the reaction of those who [xii] suffer them, but through the free and fraternal initiative of those who exploit them. We would very much like to be shown an example of such self-denial in history. But no such instance has ever been provided by the ruling castes of India, nor by those Spartans, Athenians, and Romans who are so often held up for our admiration, nor by the feudal lords of the Middle Ages, nor by the plantation owners of the West Indies. Indeed, it is highly doubtful that these oppressors of humanity ever considered their power to be unjust or illegitimate.

If one delves somewhat into the necessities — one might even say the fatal necessities — of aristocratic races, one soon realizes that they are significantly modified and aggravated by what has been called the principle of population.

If aristocratic classes were by nature stationary — if they did not, like all others, possess the ability to multiply — then a certain degree of happiness, and even equality, might perhaps be compatible with the regime of conquest. Once the lands were divided among the noble families, each would pass down its estates from generation to generation to its sole heir, and one could conceive that, under such an arrangement, an industrious class might peacefully rise and prosper alongside the conquering race.

But the conquerors multiply just like ordinary proletarians. While the country’s borders remain unchanged, while the number of noble estates [xiii] remains fixed, because the aristocracy, to maintain its power, takes care not to divide them and ensures they are transmitted intact from male to male, in the system of primogeniture, numerous families of the younger sons form and multiply in turn. These younger sons cannot sustain themselves through labor, since, according to noble tradition, labor is deemed disgraceful. There is, therefore, only one way to provide for them: the exploitation of the working classes. External plunder abroad is called war, conquest, and colonization. Internal plunder is called taxes, government posts, and monopolies. Civilized aristocracies generally engage in both forms of plunder; barbarian aristocracies are forced to forgo the latter for a very simple reason, there is no industrious class around them to rob. But when the resources of external plunder also run dry, what then becomes of the younger aristocratic generations among the barbarians? What becomes of them? They are smothered, for it is in the nature of aristocracies to prefer death itself to labor. [1]

"In the archipelagos of the great ocean, younger sons have no share in the inheritance of their fathers. They can only survive on the food given to them by their elders if they remain within the family, or on what the enslaved population can provide if they join the military association of the arreoys. But whichever path they choose, they cannot hope to perpetuate their race. [xiv] The inability to pass any property to their children and to maintain them in the rank in which they are born is, without a doubt, what has made it a law for them to smother their offspring ."

The English aristocracy, though influenced by the same instincts that drive the Malay aristocracy (for circumstances may vary, but human nature is the same everywhere), has found itself, if I may put it this way, in a more favorable environment. On all sides, it has had the most industrious, the most active, the most persevering, the most energetic, and at the same time the most docile population on the globe; and it has methodically exploited it.

Nothing has been more thoroughly conceived or more energetically executed than this exploitation. The possession of land places legislative power in the hands of the English oligarchy; through legislation, it systematically seizes wealth from industry. This wealth is then used to pursue abroad that policy of encroachment which has brought forty-five colonies under British rule, and these colonies, in turn, serve as a pretext for levying, at the expense of industry and for the benefit of the younger branches of the aristocracy, heavy taxes, large armies, and a powerful naval force.

Justice must be done to the English oligarchy. It has displayed marvelous skill in its dual policy of domestic and foreign plunder. Two words, which imply two prejudices, have been enough to enlist even the very classes that bear the entire [xv] burden: it has called monopoly protection and colonies markets.

Thus, the existence of the British oligarchy — or at least its legislative supremacy — is not only a scourge for England but also a constant danger for Europe.

And if this is the case, how is it possible that France pays no attention to the gigantic struggle unfolding before its eyes between the spirit of civilization and the spirit of feudalism? How is it possible that it does not even know the names of those men who deserve all the blessings of humanity — Cobden, Bright, Moore, Villiers, Thompson, Fox, Wilson, and a thousand others — who have dared to engage in the fight and who sustain it with admirable talent, courage, devotion, and energy? "It is merely a question of free trade," they say; but do they not see that commercial freedom must strip the oligarchy of both the resources it gets from internal plunder — monopolies — and the resources from external plunder — colonies? For monopolies and colonies are so incompatible with the freedom of exchange that they are nothing more than the limitation of that very freedom by arbitrary power!

But what am I saying? If France has any vague awareness of this life-or-death struggle that will decide, for a long time, the fate of human liberty, it does not seem to give its support to its triumph. In recent years, it has been made so afraid of the words liberty, competition, overproduction; it has been [xvi] told so often that these words imply poverty, pauperism, and the degradation of the working classes; it has been so repeatedly assured that there exists an English political economy that uses freedom as an instrument of Machiavellianism and oppression, and a French political economy which, under the names of philanthropy, socialism, and the organization of labor, would restore equality of conditions on earth, that it has come to detest the idea that, after all, is founded only on justice and common sense, and which can be summed up in this axiom: "That men should be free to exchange among themselves, when it suits them, the fruits of their labor." If this crusade against liberty were supported only by men of imagination who seek to formulate a science without having prepared themselves through study, the harm would not be great. But is it not painful to see true economists, driven no doubt by the passion for ephemeral popularity, yielding to these affected statements and pretending to believe what they assuredly do not, that pauperism, proletarian distress, and the suffering of the lowest social classes must be attributed to what is called excessive competition or overproduction?

Would it not, at first glance, be a most astonishing idea that poverty, destitution, and the lack of products should be caused by, what? Precisely an overabundance of products! Is it not strange to be told that if men do not have enough to eat, it is because there is too much food in the world? That if they do not have [xvii] enough to wear, it is because machines are flooding the market with too many clothes? Certainly, pauperism in England is an undeniable fact; the inequality of wealth there is striking. But why seek such a bizarre cause for these phenomena when they can be explained by a much more natural one, the systematic plunder of workers by the idle?

This is the moment to describe the economic regime of Great Britain as it stood in the years just before the partial, and in some respects deceiving, reforms that have been presented to Parliament by the current cabinet since 1842.

The first striking feature of the financial legislation of our neighbors, and one that is particularly significant for landowners on the continent, is the almost complete absence of land tax in a country burdened by such a heavy debt and such a vast administration.

In 1706 (the time of the Union under Queen Anne),...

Land tax	£1,997,379
Excise	£1,792,763
Tariff	£1,549,351

In 1841, under the rein of Victoria:

Land tax	£2,037,627
Excise	£12,858,014
Tariff	£19,185,217

Thus, direct taxation has remained unchanged, while consumption taxes have increased tenfold.

[**xviii**]

And it must be noted that, during this period, land rents or landowners' incomes have increased in the ratio of 1 to 7, so that the same estate which, under Queen Anne, paid 20 percent in taxes on its income now pays no more than 3 percent.

It should also be observed that land tax accounts for only one twenty-fifth of public revenue (2 million out of the 50 million that make up general receipts). In France, as in all of continental Europe, it constitutes the largest portion, especially when annual taxes are combined with the duties levied on property transfers and inheritances, duties from which landed property in Britain is exempt, even though personal and industrial property is strictly subjected to them.

The same partiality is evident in indirect taxes. Since they are uniform rather than adjusted according to the quality of the goods they are imposed on, they weigh incomparably more on the poor classes than on the wealthy classes.

Thus, Pekoe tea costs 4 shillings, and Bohea tea 9 pence; since the tax is 2 shillings, the former is taxed at 50 percent, while the latter is taxed at 300 percent.

Similarly, refined sugar, which costs 71 shillings, and raw sugar, which costs 25 shillings, are both subject to a fixed tax of 24 shillings, amounting to 34 percent for the former and 90 percent for the latter.

Likewise, common Virginia tobacco — the tobacco of the [xix] poor — is taxed at 1200 percent, while Havana tobacco is taxed at only 105 percent.

The wine of the rich is taxed at just 28 percent, while the wine of the poor is taxed at 254 percent.

And so it goes for the rest.

Next comes the corn and provisions law (the law on cereals and food), which must be properly understood.

The Corn Law, by excluding foreign wheat or subjecting it to exorbitant import duties, has the purpose of raising the price of domestic wheat, the pretext of protecting agriculture, and the effect of increasing landowners’ rents.

That the Corn Law is intended to raise the price of domestic wheat is acknowledged by all parties. Under the 1815 law, Parliament explicitly sought to maintain wheat at 80 shillings per quarter; under the 1828 law, it aimed to guarantee producers 70 shillings; and the 1842 law (which came after Sir Robert Peel’s reforms and thus does not concern us here) was designed to prevent prices from falling below 56 shillings, which is said to be the minimum for covering the cost of production. It is true that these laws have often failed to achieve their intended purpose, and even at this very moment, farmers who relied on this legislated price of 56 shillings and signed their leases accordingly are being forced to sell at 45 shillings. This is because the natural laws that tend to bring all [xx] profits to a common level have a force that despotism is not able to overcome.

On the other hand, that the so-called protection of agriculture is merely a pretext is equally evident. The number of farms available for rent is limited, whereas the number of farmers — or those who could become farmers — is not. The competition among them forces them to accept the smallest possible profits they can endure. If, as a result of high grain and livestock prices, farming became highly profitable, landlords would waste no time raising the price of leases, something they would be all the more able to do since, according to this hypothesis, a considerable number of entrepreneurs would step forward to take them up.

Finally, that the landowner (landlord) ultimately reaps all the profit from this monopoly is beyond doubt. The surplus price extracted from consumers must end up somewhere, and since it does not stay with the farmer, it must inevitably go to the landowner.

But what exactly is the burden that the wheat monopoly imposes on the English people?

To determine this, one need only compare the price of foreign wheat in bonded warehouses with the price of domestic wheat. The difference, multiplied by the number of quarters consumed annually in England, will provide the exact measure of the legal plunder exercised in this form by the British oligarchy.

Statisticians do not agree on the figures. It is likely that they are prone to some degree [xxi] of exaggeration — either upward or downward — depending on whether they belong to the party of the exploiters or the exploited. The most trustworthy authority is undoubtedly that of the officers of the Board of Trade, who were called upon to give their formal opinion before the House of Commons, called in a committee of inquiry.

Sir Robert Peel, when presenting the first part of his financial plan in 1842, said:

"I believe that full confidence is due to Her Majesty’s government and to the proposals it submits to you, especially since Parliament’s attention has been seriously drawn to these matters in the solemn inquiry of 1839."

In the same speech, the Prime Minister also stated:

"Mr. Deacon Hume, a man whose loss, I am sure, we all deeply regret, established that the country’s consumption amounts to one quarter of wheat per inhabitant."

Nothing is lacking in the authority upon which I am about to rely, neither the competence of the person giving his opinion, nor the solemnity of the circumstances in which he was called upon to express it, nor even the endorsement of the Prime Minister of England.

Here is an excerpt from this remarkable questioning on the question at hand: [2]

The President: How many years have you held positions in the Customs and the Board of Trade?

Mr. Deacon Hume: I served thirty-eight years [xxii] in the Customs and then eleven years at the Board of Trade.

Q. Do you believe that protective duties act as a direct tax on the public by raising the price of consumer goods?

A. Most definitely. I can only break down the cost of an item in the following way: one portion is its natural price; the other portion is the duty or tax, even though this duty ends up in a private individual’s pocket rather than in the public treasury.

Q. Have you ever calculated the amount of tax paid by the public due to the price increase caused by the monopoly on wheat and butcher's meat?

A. I believe we can estimate this additional burden quite accurately. It is estimated that each person consumes one quarter of wheat per year. The protectionist policy is believed to add 10 shillings to its natural price. You cannot estimate at less than double that amount the overall increase in price that it causes for meat, barley, oats, hay, butter, and cheese. This amounts to 36 million pounds sterling per year (900 million francs), and in reality, the people pay this sum out of their own pockets just as surely as if it were going to the treasury in the form of taxes.

Q. Consequently, does this make it harder for them to pay the taxes required for public revenue?

A. Without a doubt. Having already paid personal taxes, they are less able to pay national taxes.

[xxiii]

Q. Does this also result in suffering and a restriction on the industry of our country?

A. I believe that is actually the most pernicious effect. It is less easy to quantify, but if the nation enjoyed the trade that, in my view, would result from the abolition of all these protectionist measures, I believe it could easily bear an increase in taxation of 30 shillings per person.

Q. So, in your opinion, the burden of the protectionist system exceeds that of taxation?

A. I believe so, taking into account both its direct effects and its indirect consequences, which are harder to assess.

Another officer of the Board of Trade, Mr. MacGregor, responded:

"I consider that the taxes levied in this country on wealth production — due to the labor and ingenuity of its people — through restrictive and prohibitive duties far exceed, and probably more than double, the amount of taxes paid to the treasury."

Mr. Porter, another distinguished member of the Board of Trade, well known in France for his statistical work, testified in the same vein.

We can therefore take it as certain that the English aristocracy, through the operation of this single law (Corn and Provisions Law), seizes from the people a portion of the fruits of their labor, or, which amounts to the same thing, the legitimate satisfactions they could otherwise afford, amounting to 1 billion per year, and possibly [xxiv] 2 billion, if we account for the indirect effects of this law. This is, strictly speaking, the share that the aristocratic legislators, the elder sons of noble families, get for themselves.

It remained to provide for the younger sons; for, as we have seen, aristocratic races are no less capable of multiplying than others, and, under pain of dreadful internal disagreements, they must ensure a suitable fate for their younger branches, meaning one that does not involve labor, or, in other words, one that relies on plunder, since there are and can only be two ways to acquire wealth: to produce it or to seize it.

Two fertile sources of revenue were opened to the younger sons: the public treasury and the colonial system. In truth, these two alternatives are one and the same. Armies and navies are raised, in a word, taxes are levied in order to conquer colonies, and colonies are maintained to make the navy, the armies, and the taxes permanent.

As long as people believed that the exchanges taking place under an agreement of reciprocal monopoly between the metropole and its colonies were of a different and more advantageous nature than those occurring between free countries, the colonial system could be sustained by national prejudice. But when science and experience (and science is nothing but methodical experience) revealed and placed beyond doubt this simple truth, that products are exchanged for other products, [xxv] it became evident that sugar, coffee, and cotton imported from foreign countries provide no fewer commercial markets for domestic industry than these same goods which have come from the colonies. From that moment on, this regime, accompanied as it is by so much violence and so many dangers, lost any reasonable or even specious justification. It is nothing more than a pretext and an opportunity for immense injustice. Let us try to assess its impact.

As for the English people — that is, the productive class — they gain nothing from the vast expansion of colonial possessions. Indeed, if the people are wealthy enough to buy sugar, cotton, and timber for construction, what does it matter whether they obtain these things from Jamaica, India, and Canada or from Brazil, the United States, and the Baltic? English manufacturing labor must pay for the agricultural labor of the West Indies just as it would pay for the agricultural labor of the northern nations. It is therefore folly to include in economic calculations the so-called markets in the colonies which are open to England. These markets would exist even if the colonies were emancipated, simply because England buys goods from them. Moreover, England would also have access to foreign markets, which it deprives itself of by limiting its supplies to its own possessions by granting them a monopoly.

When the United States proclaimed its independence, colonial prejudices were at their height, and everyone knows that England believed its commerce would be ruined. It believed this so strongly that it ruined itself [xxvi] in advance with war expenses in an effort to keep that vast continent under its rule. But what happened? In 1776, at the start of the War of Independence, England’s exports to North America were valued at £1,300,000. By 1784, after independence had been recognized, they had risen to £3,600,000. Today, they amount to £12,400,000, a sum nearly equal to the total exports England sends to all of its forty-five colonies combined, which, in 1842, did not exceed £13,200,000. And indeed, why would exchanges of iron for cotton, or textiles for flour, cease between the two nations? Would it be because the citizens of the United States are governed by a president of their own choosing instead of by a lord-lieutenant paid at the expense of the Exchequer? But what does that circumstance have to do with commerce? And if one day we were to elect our mayors and prefects, would that prevent Bordeaux wines from being sent to Elbeuf, or Elbeuf textiles from being sent to Bordeaux?

It may be said that, since the Act of Independence, England and the United States have mutually restricted each other's products, which would not have happened if the colonial bond had not been severed. But those who make this objection surely intend to present an argument in favor of my thesis; they imply that both countries would have benefited from freely exchanging the products of their land and their [xxvii] industry. I ask: how can the exchange of wheat for iron, or tobacco for cloth, be harmful depending on whether the two nations conducting it are or are not politically independent from each other? If the two great Anglo-Saxon families are acting wisely and in accordance with their true interests by restricting their mutual trade, it must be because such exchanges are harmful. And in that case, they would have been just as justified in restricting them even if an English governor still resided in the Capitol. If, on the contrary, they have acted unwisely, then they have made a mistake — they have misunderstood their own interests — and there is no reason to believe that the colonial bond would have made them more perceptive.

Furthermore, note that the exports of 1776, which amounted to £1,300,000, could not have yielded England more than 20 percent in profit, or £260,000. Does one believe that the administration of such a vast continent did not cost ten times that sum?

Moreover, people tend to exaggerate the volume of trade that England conducts with its colonies, and especially the progress of this trade. Despite the fact that the British government compels its citizens to provide itself with goods from the colonies and the colonists to do the same from the metropole, despite the fact that customs barriers between England and other nations have, in recent years, multiplied and been greatly increased, one can see that England's foreign trade has been growing more rapidly than [xxviii] its colonial trade, as demonstrated by the following table:

84. 85. 86. 87.

	EXPORTS		Total
	to the Colonies	to foreign countries
1831	£10,254,940	£26,909,432	£37,164,372
1842	£13,261,436	£34,119,587	£47,381,023

In both periods, colonial trade accounted for only slightly more than a quarter of total trade. The increase over eleven years amounts to about three million pounds, but it must be noted that the East Indies — where the principles of free trade were applied in the meantime — contributed £1,300,000 to this increase, while Gibraltar, which does not engage in colonial trade but rather foreign trade with Spain, accounted for £600,000. This means that the actual increase in colonial trade over an eleven-year period was only £1,100,000. During the same period, and despite our tariffs, England’s exports to France rose from £602,688 to £3,193,939.

Thus, protected trade grew by 8 percent, while hampered trade increased by 450 percent!

But while the English people did not gain — and indeed lost significantly — from the colonial system, the same cannot be said for the younger branches of the British aristocracy.

First, this system requires an army, a navy, a diplomatic corps, lords-lieutenant, governors, [xxix] residents, and agents of all kinds and titles. Although it is presented as a policy designed to promote agriculture, commerce, and industry, it is not, as far as I know, farmers, merchants, or manufacturers who are entrusted with these high positions. It can be stated with certainty that a large portion of the heavy taxes — burdens that we have seen fall mainly upon the people — are used to pay all these tools of conquest, who are none other than the younger sons of the English aristocracy.

Moreover, it is well known that these noble adventurers have acquired vast estates in the colonies. They have been granted protection, and it is important to calculate what this protection costs the working classes.

Before 1825, English legislation on sugar was highly complex.

Sugar from the West Indies paid the lowest duty; sugar from Mauritius and the East Indies was subject to a higher tax. Foreign sugar was excluded by a prohibitive duty.

On July 5, 1825, Mauritius, and on August 13, 1836, British India, were placed on equal footing with the West Indies.

The simplified legislation then recognized only two types of sugar: colonial sugar and foreign sugar. The former was subject to a duty of 24 shillings per hundredweight, while the latter was taxed at 63 shillings.

If we assume for a moment that the cost of production is the same in the colonies and abroad — for instance, [xxx] 20 shillings — it is easy to understand the effects of such legislation, both for producers and for consumers.

Foreign sugar cannot be sold on the English market for less than 83 shillings, 20 shillings to cover production costs and 63 shillings to pay the tax. If colonial production is even slightly insufficient to meet market demand, or if foreign sugar enters the market, the selling price (for there can only be one selling price) will be set at 83 shillings, and for colonial sugar, this price will be broken down as follows:

20 sh.	Reimbursement for cost of production
24 sh.	Share for the Treasury or tax
39 sh.	Amount paid for plunder or monopoly
83 sh.	Price paid by the consumer

It is clear that English law was designed to make the people pay 83 shillings for what is worth only 20, and to distribute the excess — 63 shillings — in such a way that the treasury's share would be 24 shillings, while the monopoly's share would be 39 shillings.

If things had proceeded in this way, if the law had achieved its intended purpose, then to determine the amount of plunder carried out by monopolists at the expense of the people, it would be enough to multiply 39 shillings by the number of hundredweights of sugar consumed in England.

However, as with cereals, the law failed to achieve its full effect. Limited consumption due to high prices did not turn to foreign sugar to fill the gap, and the price of 83 shillings was not reached.

Let us step out of the realm of hypotheses and consult the [xxxi] facts. Here they are, carefully drawn from official documents.

YEAR	TOTAL CONSUMPTION	CONSUMPTION PER INHABITANT	PRICE OF COLONIAL SUGAR AT PORT	PRICE OF FOREIGN SUGAR AT PORT
			sh. d.	sh. d.
1837	3,954,810	16 12/13	34 7	21 3
1838	3,909,365	16 8/13	33 8	21 3
1839	3,825,599	15 12/13	39 2	22 2
1840	3,594,834	14 7/9	49 1	21 6
1841	4,058,435	16 1/2	39 8	20 6
average	3,868,668	16 1/6	39 5	21 5

From this table, it is very easy to deduce the enormous losses that the monopoly has inflicted, both on the Exchequer and on English consumers.

Let us calculate in French currency and round numbers for the reader’s easier understanding.

At a rate of 49 francs 20 centimes (39 shillings 5 pence), plus 30 francs in duties (24 shillings), it has cost the English people a total of 306.5 million francs to consume 3,868,000 hundredweights of sugar annually, broken down as follows:

• 103.5 million francs, which would have been the cost of the same quantity of foreign sugar at 29 francs 75 centimes (21 shillings 5 pence).
• 116 million francs in taxes for revenue at 30 francs (24 shillings).
• 86.5 million francs, the share of the monopoly resulting from the difference between the colonial price and the foreign price.
• Total: 306 million francs.

[xxxii]

It is clear that, under a regime of equality and with a uniform tax of 30 francs per hundredweight, if the English people had wanted to spend 306 million francs on this type of consumption, they would have received, at a price of 26 francs 75 centimes plus a 30-franc tax, 5,400,000 hundredweights of sugar, or 22 kilograms per person instead of 16.

According to this hypothesis, the Treasury would have collected 162 million francs instead of 116 million.

If the people had chosen to maintain their current level of consumption, they would have saved 86 million francs annually, which could have been used to obtain other satisfactions and open new markets for their industry.

Similar calculations, which we spare the reader, prove that the monopoly granted to Canadian timber owners costs the working classes of Great Britain an excess of 30 million francs, independently of the revenue tax.

The coffee monopoly imposes an additional 6,500,000 francs burden on them.

Thus, from just three colonial commodities alone, a total of 124 million francs is taken directly from consumers’ pockets — over and above the natural price of these goods and the revenue taxes — and transferred, without any compensation, into the hands of the colonists.

I will conclude this already too lengthy discussion with a quotation from Mr. Porter, a member of the Board of Trade:

"In 1840, without even considering import duties, we paid 5 million pounds more than [xxxiii] any other nation would have paid for the same quantity of sugar. In the same year, we exported goods worth £4,000,000 to the sugar colonies. This means that we would have gained a million by following the true principle — which is to buy from the most advantageous market — even if we had simply given the planters all the goods they took from us for free."

M. Charles Comte had already foreseen, as early as 1827, what Mr. Porter has now confirmed in figures:

"If the English were to calculate how much merchandise they must sell to the slaveholders in order to recover the expenses they incur to secure their business, they would realize that their best course of action would be to give them their goods for free and, at that price, purchase commercial freedom."

We are now, it seems to me, in a position to assess the degree of freedom that labor and trade enjoy in England and to judge whether this is truly the country in which one should study the disastrous effects of free competition on the just distribution of wealth and the equality of conditions.

Let us summarize and condense the facts we have established:

1. The eldest branches of the English aristocracy own the entire surface of the land.
2. The land tax has remained unchanged for 150 years, even though land rents have [xxxiv] increased sevenfold. It accounts for only one twenty-fifth of public revenue.
3. Real estate property is exempt from inheritance taxes, while personal property remains subject to them.
4. Indirect taxes weigh far less on high-quality goods used by the wealthy than on lower-quality goods consumed by the people.
5. Through the Corn Law, these same eldest branches of the aristocracy impose a tax on the people's food supply, which the best authorities estimate at one billion francs.
6. The colonial system, when pursued on a very large scale, requires heavy taxation. These taxes, almost entirely paid by the working classes, also almost entirely constitute the patrimony of the younger branches of the idle class.
7. Local taxes, such as tithes, also reach these younger branches through the established Church.
8. If the colonial system requires a large growth in the size of military force, maintaining this force, in turn, depends on the colonial regime, and this regime brings with it monopolies. We have seen that, from just three products alone, these monopolies cause the English people a direct loss of 124 million francs.

I felt it necessary to give some breadth to the presentation of these facts because they seem to me capable of [xxxv] dispelling many errors, many prejudices, and many blind misconceptions. How many solutions, both obvious and unexpected, do they not offer to economists and politicians alike?

First, how can those modern schools of thought that seem to have taken it upon themselves to drag France into this system of mutual plunder — by making it fear competition — how, I ask, can these schools persist in claiming that freedom is what has caused pauperism in England? Say instead that it has arisen from organized, systematic, persistent, and ruthless plunder. Is this explanation not simpler, truer, and more satisfactory? What do you say! Freedom would lead to pauperism? Free competition, free transactions, and the right to exchange property that one has the right to destroy, would these imply an unjust distribution of wealth? Then providential law itself must be wicked indeed! And should we then hasten to replace it with human law? And what kind of law? A law of restriction and prevention! Instead of "laisser faire" (letting things be), we should prevent them from happening; Instead of "laissez passer" (letting goods circulate), we should prevent their circulation; Instead of "laisser échanger" (allowing exchanges), we should prevent exchanges; Instead of letting workers get paid for the work which they have done, we should give that money to those who have not worked! Is this truly the only way to prevent inequality of wealth among men? "Yes," you say, "experience has shown us: freedom and pauperism coexist in England." But you can no longer say this. [xxxvi] Far from freedom and poverty being linked in a cause-and-effect relationship, one of them — freedom — does not even exist in England. Workers may be free to work, but they are not free to enjoy the fruits of their labor. What coexists in England is not liberty and poverty, but a small number of plunderers and a large number of the plundered, and one does not need to be a great economist to conclude that the opulence of the former is the cause of the poverty of the latter.

Moreover, if we accept the overall situation of Great Britain as we have just described it, and if we recognize the feudal spirit that dominates its economic institutions, we must be convinced that the financial and customs reform now taking place in this country is not only an English question, it is a European and humanitarian issue as well. This is not merely a matter of a change in the distribution of wealth within the United Kingdom; it is about a deep transformation in the actions which it takes abroad. With the fall of the British aristocracy’s unjust privileges, so too will fall the policies for which England has been so often criticized, along with its colonial system, its usurpations, its armies, its navy, and its diplomacy, insofar as they have been oppressive and dangerous to humanity.

This is the glorious triumph that the League aspires to when it demands: [3]

"The total, immediate, and unconditional abolition of all monopolies and all protective duties in favor of agriculture, manufacturing, commerce, and [xxxvii] navigation, in short, the absolute freedom of trade."

I will say little here about this powerful association. The spirit that drives it, its beginnings, progress, struggles, setbacks, victories, ambitions, and means of action, all of this will manifest itself, full of life and movement, in the course of this work. I do not need to meticulously describe this great body, for I am bringing it to life, breathing and acting, before the French public, from whose eyes, by an incomprehensible feat of manipulation, the press subsidized by monopoly has kept it hidden for so long.

In the midst of the distress that the regime we have described inevitably imposed upon the working classes, seven men gathered in Manchester in October 1838. And with the resolute determination that characterizes the Anglo-Saxon race, they resolved to overthrow all monopolies through legal means, to accomplish, without disorder, without bloodshed, and by the sole force of public opinion, a revolution as profound, perhaps even more profound, than the one our fathers carried out in 1789.

Certainly, it required extraordinary courage to embark on such an undertaking. The opponents they had to confront possessed wealth, influence, the legislature, the Church, the State, the public treasury, the land, government positions, and monopolies. Moreover, they [xxxviii] were surrounded by traditional respect and veneration.

And where could they find a foothold against such an imposing array of forces? Among the industrious classes? Alas! In England, as in France, each industry believes its existence is tied to some shred of monopoly. Protectionism has gradually extended to everything. How could one convince people to prefer distant and seemingly uncertain interests over immediate and tangible ones? How could one dispel so many prejudices, so many sophisms, so deeply embedded in people's minds by time and self-interest? And even if public opinion could be enlightened in all ranks and classes — a formidable task in itself — how could it be given enough energy, perseverance, and coordinated action to take control of the legislature through elections?

The magnitude of these challenges did not deter the founders of the League. After facing and assessing them, they believed they had the strength to overcome them. The Movement was launched.

Manchester became the cradle of this great movement. It was natural for it to arise in northern England, among the manufacturing population, just as it is natural that one day, a similar movement will emerge among the agricultural population of southern France. Indeed, in both countries, the industries that provide the means for trade are the ones that suffer most immediately from its prohibition. It is clear that if trade were free, the English would send us [xxxix] iron, coal, machines, textiles — in short, the products of their mines and factories — which we would pay for with grain, silk, wine, oil, and fruits, that is, with the products of our agriculture.

This explains, at least to some extent, the seemingly odd name chosen by the association: Anti-Corn Law League [4] . This narrow designation undoubtedly contributed to diverting Europe’s attention from the full scope of the Movement. We therefore find it essential to explain the reasons behind its adoption.

The French press has rarely spoken of the League (we will explain why elsewhere), and when it could not avoid doing so, it at least made sure to rely on its title — Anti-Corn Law — to suggest that it was merely a specific issue, a simple reform of the law regulating grain imports in England.

But this is not the sole purpose of the League. It aspires to the complete and radical destruction of all privileges and monopolies, to absolute freedom of trade, to unlimited competition, which implies the downfall of aristocratic supremacy in all its injustices, the dissolution of colonial ties insofar as they are exclusive, and a complete revolution in Great Britain’s domestic and foreign policy.

To cite just one example: today, we see the free traders siding with the [xl] United States on the question of Oregon and Texas.What do they care, after all, whether these territories govern themselves under the Union’s jurisdiction rather than being ruled by a Mexican president or an English lord commissioner, so long as everyone is free to sell, buy, acquire property, and work there; so long as every honest transaction is free? Under these conditions, they would gladly cede both Canada and Nova Scotia, and the West Indies to the United States as a bonus; they would even give them up without this condition, firmly convinced that free trade will, sooner or later, become the guiding principle of international transactions [5] .

[xli]

But it is easy to understand why the free-traders began by concentrating all their efforts against a single monopoly, the grain monopoly: it is the keystone of the entire system. It represents the aristocracy’s share, the special privilege that the legislators granted themselves. If this monopoly is taken away from them, they will easily concede all the others.

Moreover, it is the burden that weighs most heavily on the people and the one whose injustice is easiest to demonstrate. A tax on bread! On food! On life itself! This, certainly, is a rallying cry uniquely suited to awaken the sympathy of the masses.

It is undoubtedly a great and noble spectacle to see a small group of men attempting, through hard work, perseverance, and determination, to destroy the most oppressive and most powerfully organized regime — second only to slavery — that has ever weighed upon a great people and upon humanity. And they do so without resorting to brute force, without even seeking to stir up [xlii] public outrage. Instead, they illuminate with a bright light every fold and crease of this system, they refute every sophismon which it rests, and they instill in the masses the knowledge and virtues that alone can free them from the yoke that crushes them.

But this spectacle becomes even more imposing when we see the battlefield expanding every day as new questions and interests enter the struggle one after another.

At first, the aristocracy scorns to enter the arena. It believes that since it holds political power through land ownership, material power through the army and navy, moral power through the Church, legislative power through Parliament, and, finally, the power of public opinion itself, through that false national grandeur that flatters the people and seems tied to the very institutions now under attack.When the aristocracy considers the height, strength, and cohesion of the fortifications in which it has entrenched itself; when it compares its forces to those of a handful of isolated men opposing it; it believes it can remain silent and indifferent.

However, the League makes progress. If the aristocracy has the established Church on its side, the League calls upon all the dissenting churches for support. These churches, unlike the established one, are not tied to the monopoly through tithes; they sustain themselves through voluntary contributions, meaning they depend on public confidence. They soon realized that the [xliii] exploitation of man by man, whether called slavery or protectionism, is contrary to Christian doctrine. Sixteen hundred dissenting ministers responded to the League’s call. Seven hundred of them, coming from all parts of the kingdom, gathered in Manchester. They deliberated, and the result of their discussion is that they will go out and preach throughout England that free trade is in accordance with providential laws, which is their mission to proclaim.

If the aristocracy has property in land and the agricultural class on its side, the League relies on the property in one's labor,in one's faculties, and in one's mind. Nothing equals the zeal with which the manufacturing classes eagerly contribute to this great cause. Spontaneous subscriptions bring 200,000 francs to the League’s funds in 1841, 600,000 francs in 1842, 1 million francs in 1843, 2 million francs in 1844. And in 1845, a sum twice, perhaps three times as large will be devoted to one of the League’s key objectives: registering a great number of free-traders on the electoral lists. Among the facts related to these subscriptions, one in particular made a profound impression on the public: on November 14, 1844, a subscription list was opened in Manchester. By the end of that same day, it had raised £16,000 (400,000 francs). Thanks to these abundant resources, the League, presenting its ideas in varied and accessible forms, distributes them among the people through brochures, pamphlets, posters, and countless newspapers. [xliv] The League divides England into twelve districts, each of which has a professor of political economy. Moreover, the League itself, like a traveling university, holds public meetings in every city and county of Great Britain. It seems, indeed, that he who directs human affairshas provided the League with unexpected means of success: The postal reform allows it to maintain a correspondence with the electoral committees it has established throughout the country, with over 300,000 letters sent annually. The railways give its movements a sense of ubiquity, so that the same men who agitate in Liverpool in the morning are stirring up Edinburgh or Glasgow in the evening. Electoral reform has opened the doors of Parliament to the middle class,allowing the founders of the League — Cobden, Bright, Gibson, Villiers — to confront the monopolists directly, within the very chamber where these monopolies were once enshrined into law. They enter the House of Commons, and there they form — not a Whig party, nor a Tory party, but something unprecedented in constitutional history — a party that refuses to sacrifice absolute truth, absolute justice, and absolute principles for the sake of personal ambition, political maneuvering, or the strategies of ministers and members of the the opposition.

But it was not enough to rally the social classes directly burdened by the monopoly; it was also necessary to open the eyesof those who sincerely believed [xlv] that their well-being, and even their very existence, depended on the protectionist system. Mr. Cobden undertook this difficult and perilous task. In the space of two months, he organized forty meetings in the very heart of the agricultural population. There, often surrounded by thousands of laborers and farmers — among whom, as one might expect, agents of disorder had been sent by the interests which were under threat — he displayed a courage, composure, skill, and eloquence that astonished, if not won over, even his most ardent adversaries. Placed in a situation comparable to that of a Frenchman preaching free trade in the ironworks of Decazeville or among the miners of Anzin, one hardly knows what to admire most in this remarkable man — at once economist, orator, statesman, strategist, and theorist — to whom one might justly apply what was once said of Destutt de Tracy: "By the sheer force of common sense, he attains genius."His efforts earned the reward they deserved, and the aristocracy had the distressing realization that the principle of free trade was rapidly gaining ground among the population which is tied to agriculture.

Thus, the time when it could cloak itself in scornful arrogance is over; the aristocracy has finally emerged from its passivity. It tries to take the offensive, and its first move is to slander the League and its founders. It scrutinizes their public and private lives, but soon, forced to abandon this battlefield of personal attacks, where it might well suffer more casualties and wounds [xlvi] than the League, it summons to its aid the army of sophisms that, in all times and in all countries, have served as the pillars of monopoly. Protection for agriculture, Invasion of foreign products, Falling wages due to cheap food, National independence, Draining of precious metals, Guaranteed colonial markets, Political supremacy, Naval dominance. These are now the questions being debated, not just among scholars, not just from one academic school to another, but directly before the people, in a struggle between democracy and aristocracy.

However, it turns out that the League members are not merely courageous agitators; they are also deeply knowledgeable economists. Not one of these many sophisms withstands the challenge of discussion, and when necessary, parliamentary inquiries, provoked by the League, expose their emptiness.

The aristocracy then adopts a new approach. Poverty is immense, profound, horrible, and its cause is obvious: an unbearable inequality governs the distribution of social wealth. But against the League’s banner, which bears the word “justice,” the aristocracy raises a different banner, bearing the word “charity”. It no longer denies the suffering of the people, but it hopes to create a powerful distraction, through almsgiving.

"You suffer," it tells the people, "because you have multiplied too much. I will prepare a vast system of emigration for you." (Motion by Mr. Butler.) "You are dying of hunger. I will grant each family a small garden and a cow." (Allotments.) "You are exhausted from overwork. That is because too much is demanded of you. I will limit [xlvii] the length of your working hours." (The Ten Hours Bill.)

Then come charitable subscriptions to provide the poor with free public baths, recreation areas, the benefits of national education, and so on. Always almsgiving, always palliatives. But as for the cause that makes them necessary, as for the monopoly, as for the artificial and unjust distribution of wealth, they do not speak of touching it.

Here, the League must defend itself against a particularly insidious attack. The aristocracy, by embracing charity, seems to claim a monopoly on philanthropy. Meanwhile, it seeks to trap the League within the rigid confines of exact, cold justice which, unlike charity (even when impotent or hypocritical), is far less effective in eliciting the impulsive gratitude of those who suffer.

I will not repeat the objections that the League has raised against all these so-called charitable institutions; some of them will be seen throughout this work. It is enough to say that the League has supported those efforts that undeniably serve the public good. For instance, among the free-traders of Manchester, nearly one million francs was collected to provide more space, air, and light to the working-class neighborhoods. An equal sum, also raised through voluntary subscriptions, was dedicated to establishing schools in the city. At the same time, however, the League never ceased to expose the hidden trap beneath this grand display of philanthropy:

"When the English are [xlviii] starving," it said, "it is not enough to tell them: ‘We will send you to America, where food is abundant.’ One must first allow that food to enter England. It is not enough to give working-class families a garden to grow potatoes; above all, one must not deprive them of the earnings they could obtain from more substantial nourishment. It is not enough to limit the excessive labor imposed on them by spoliation; one must abolish spoliation itself, so that ten hours of work will be worth twelve. It is not enough to give them air and water; they must be given bread, or at the very least, the right to buy bread. It is not philanthropy but freedom that must be opposed to oppression; it is not charity but justice that can cure the wounds of injustice. Almsgiving can only ever be insufficient, fleeting, uncertain, and often degrading.

At the end of all its sophisms, its evasions, and its delaying tactics, the aristocracy still had one last resort: its parliamentary majority, the majority that relieves it of the need to be right. Thus, the final act of the Movement had to take place within the electoral colleges. After having popularized sound economic principles, the League now had to channel the practical efforts of its countless supporters. Its mission: to profoundly change the electoral constituencies of the kingdom; to undermine aristocratic influence; to bring the full weight of the law and public opinion against political corruption. This marks the new phase into which [xlix] the Movement has entered, with an energy that only seems to grow with progress. Vires acquirit eundo (It gains strength as it moves forward). At the call of Cobden, Bright, and their allies, thousands of free-traders are registering as voters, while thousands of monopolists are being removed from the electoral lists. The speed of this movement makes it possible to foresee the day when Parliament will no longer represent a single privileged class, but the entire community.

One may ask whether so much effort, so much zeal, and so much dedication have had no influence on public affairs so far, whether the progress of liberal ideas in the country has had any reflection in legislation.

At the beginning of this work, I described the economic regime of England before the commercial crisis that gave birth to the League; I even attempted to calculate the amount of the extortion that the ruling classes imposed on the subjugated classes through the dual mechanism of taxation and monopolies.

Since then, both taxation and monopolies have undergone changes. Who has not heard of the financial plan that Sir Robert Peel has just submitted to the House of Commons, a plan that is merely a continuation of reforms initiated in 1842 and 1844, and whose full implementation is reserved for future sessions of Parliament? I sincerely believe that, in France, the true spirit of these reforms has been misunderstood, alternately exaggerated or underestimated. I hope to be excused, then, if I go into some details here, [l] though I will strive to be as brief as possible.

Plunder (forgive me for frequently repeating this term, but it is necessary to dispel the gross misconception implied by its synonym, protection) ; plunder, when elevated to a system of government, had produced all its natural consequences: extreme inequality of wealth, poverty, crime and disorder among the lower classes, a massive decline in overall consumption, a weakening of public revenues, and a growing deficit that, year after year, threatened to undermine the credit of Great Britain. Clearly, it was impossible to remain in a situation that threatened to sink the ship of state. The Irish unrest, commercial unrest, the incendiary riots in the agricultural districts, the Rebecca riots in Wales, the Chartist movement in industrial cities; these were all merely different symptoms of the same underlying phenomenon: the suffering of the people. But the suffering of the people — that is, the suffering of the masses, which means the vast majority of humanity — will eventually affect every class in society. When the people have nothing, they buy nothing. When they buy nothing, factories shut down. When factories shut down, farmers cannot sell their harvests. When farmers cannot sell, they cannot pay their rents. Thus, even the great landowning legislators found themselves trapped by the very laws they had enacted; they were caught between the bankruptcy of their tenant farmers and the bankruptcy of the state [**li**] and were threatened both in their landholdings and their financial assets. The aristocracy could feel the ground trembling beneath its feet. One of its most distinguished members, Sir James Graham (now Home Secretary), had even written a book warning his colleagues of the dangers surrounding them:

“If you do not yield part, you will lose everything. A revolutionary storm will sweep away from the country, not just your monopolies, but also your honors, your privileges, your influence, and your ill-gotten wealth.”

The first expedient to counter the most immediate threat — the deficit — was, in the well-worn phrase of statesmen, to "demand from taxation all that it can yield." But it so happened that the very taxes they tried to increase were the ones that had already drained the Treasury dry. They were forced to abandon this solution for the foreseeable future, and the first act of the new government, upon assuming power, was to declare that taxation had reached its absolute limit: "I am bound to say that the people of this country have been brought to the utmost limit of taxation." — Peel, speech of May 10, 1842

Anyone who understands the respective positions of the two great classes whose interests and struggles I have described, can easily see what problem each side needed to solve.

For the free-traders, the solution was simple: abolish all monopolies; free imports, which would necessarily increase trade and, consequently, [lii] boost exports; provide both bread and employment for the people; stimulate consumption, thereby increasing indirect tax revenues; and ultimately, restore balance to the state's finances.

For the monopolists, the problem was virtually insoluble: How to alleviate the suffering of the people without giving up monopolies? How to increase public revenue without raising taxes? How to maintain the colonial system without reducing national expenditures?

The Whig government (Russell, Morpeth, Melbourne, Baring, etc.) presented a compromise plan, weakening monopolies and the colonial system without destroying them. It was not accepted either by the monopolists or by the free-traders; the former demanded absolute monopoly, the latter demanded unlimited freedom. The monopolists cried: "No concessions!" The free-traders cried: "No compromises!"

Defeated in Parliament, the Whigs appealed to the electorate, which decisively sided with the Tories, that is, with protectionism and the colonies. The Peel ministry was formed (1841) with the explicit mission of finding the impossible solution I described earlier to the great and terrible problem posed by the deficit and widespread poverty. And it must be admitted that Peel handled this challenge with remarkable foresight and determination.

I will now attempt to explain Sir Robert Peel’s financial plan, at least as I understand it.

[liii]

One must keep in mind the various objectives that this statesman, Sir Robert Peel, had to pursue, considering the party that supported him. They are the following:

1. Restore balance to the state's finances.
2. Relieve the burden on consumers.
3. Revive commerce and industry.
4. Preserve, as much as possible, the monopoly which by its very nature was aristocratic, namely the Corn Laws.
5. Maintain the colonial system, along with the army, the navy, and high-ranking positions for the younger branches of the aristocracy.
6. It is also likely that this remarkable man, who more than anyone else knows how to read the signs of the times and sees the League’s principles spreading rapidly across England, harbored a personal but noble ambition: to secure the support of the free-traders when they won the majority, so that he himself could seal the triumph of free trade, ensuring that no other official name but his own would be attached to the greatest revolution of modern times.

There is not a single measure or speech by Sir Robert Peel that does not align perfectly with the short- or long-term objectives of this program. This will soon become evident.

The pivot around which all the financial and economic reforms we are about to discuss revolve is the income tax.

The income tax, as is well known, is a levy on all forms of income. [liv] This tax is by its nature temporary and patriotic; it has only been imposed in the most serious circumstances, and until now, only in times of war. Sir Robert Peel obtained Parliament’s approval for it in 1842, for a period of three years; it has now been extended until 1849. For the first time in history, instead of being used for the purpose of destruction and to inflict the evils of war on humanity, these useful reforms became the tool which nations could use if they wanted to enjoy the benefits of peace.

It is worth noting that all incomes below £150 sterling (3,700 francs) are exempt, meaning that only the wealthy are taxed. Much has been said — on both sides of the Channel — that the income tax has now been permanently established in England’s financial system. But anyone who understands the nature of this tax and the way it is collected knows that it cannot become a permanent fixture, at least in its current form. If the government harbors any long-term plans regarding this tax, it is likely aiming to accustom the wealthy classes to contributing a larger share to public expenses, perhaps preparing the ground for a land tax that would be more in harmony with the needs of the state and the demands of a equitable form of distributive justice.

Regardless, the first goal of the Tory government — the restoration of balance in the state's finances — was achieved thanks to the resources provided by [lv]the income tax. The deficit, which had threatened England’s credit, at least temporarily disappeared.

By 1842, a surplus in revenue was already anticipated. The question was how to apply it to the second and third objectives of the program: relieving the burden on consumers, reviving commerce and industry.

This led to a long series of trade reforms implemented in 1842, 1843, 1844, and 1845. We do not intend to detail each of these reforms but will instead focus on the principles which lie behind them.

All prohibitions were abolished. Cattle, calves, sheep, fresh and salted meat — which had previously been completely banned — were now admitted with moderate duties. For example, the duty on cattle was set at 25 francs per head (nearly double the rate in France). Yet in 1845, M. Gauthier de Rumilly claimed in the French Chamber of Deputies — without being contradicted by anyone — that England still prohibited livestock imports. Such statements went unchallenged because the press deliberately kept the French public ignorant of what was happening across the Channel.

Tariffs were significantly reduced, in some cases by half, by two-thirds, or even three-quarters, on 650 consumer goods, including: flour, oil, leather, rice, coffee, tallow, beer, etc. These duties, which were initially reduced, were entirely abolished in 1845 on 430 products, including all major raw materials, such as: [lvi] wool, cotton, flax, vinegar, etc.

The export duties were also completely abolished. Machines and coal, those two great sources of industrial power, which — under a narrow-minded view of commercial rivalry — England might naturally be jealous to protect, are now freely available to Europe. We could benefit from them at the same prices as the English, if, by a strange quirk, but one entirely consistent with the principles of the protectionist system, we had not placed ourselves at a disadvantage with our own tariffs. At the very moment when equality was being offered — or rather, granted to us unconditionally — we chose to maintain a position of inferiority regarding these essential tools of labor.

It is evident that the complete abolition of an import duty creates a permanent loss of revenue, and even a temporary shortfall in the Treasury when duties are merely reduced. This shortfall was precisely what the additional revenue from the income tax was intended to offset.

However, the income tax was only temporary. The Tory government hoped that increased consumption and a resurgence of commerce and industry would boost all sources of revenue enough to restore balance to the state's finances by 1849, making the income tax unnecessary beyond that point. As far as can be judged from the results of the partial reform of 1842, these expectations will not be disappointed. Already, the general revenue for 1844 has surpassed that of 1843 by £1,410,726 (35 million francs).

[lvii]

At the same time, all available data indicate that activity has resumed in every sector, and that well-being has spread across all classes of society. Prisons and workhouses have emptied. The poor tax has decreased. Excise duties have yielded higher returns. The Rebecca riots and arson attacks have subsided. In short, all indicators of returning prosperity are now visible, including one of the most telling signs: increased customs revenue.

Receipts for 1841 (old system)	£19,900,000
1842 1841 (old system)	£18,700,000
1843 first year of the reform	£21,400,000
1844	£23,500,000

Now, if one considers that, during the past year, goods passing through customs paid nothing upon export (due to the abolition of export duties) and were subject only to reduced taxes upon import on at least 650 items (due to the lowering of import duties), it follows logically that the total volume of imported products must have increased enormously for total revenue not only to have remained stable but to have risen by 100 million francs.

It is true that, according to the economists in the French press and the Chamber, this increase in imports proves nothing but the decline of British industry, the invasion and flooding of its markets by foreign products, and the stagnation of national labor. We shall leave these gentlemen [lviii] to reconcile, if they can, this conclusion with all the other signs that indicate England’s resurgent prosperity. As for us, who believe that products are exchanged for products,we are satisfied to find, in the agreement of these facts, yet another brilliant confirmation of the truth of this principle. Thus, we can say that Sir Robert Peel has successfully fulfilled the second and third objectives of his program: relieving the burden on consumers, reviving commerce and industry.

But this was not the reason why the Tories had brought him to power and continued to support him. Still shaken by the fear inspired by John Russell’s far more radical plan, and proud of their recent victory over the Whigs, they had no intention of losing the fruits of their triumph. They fully expected that their chosen leader would act only insofar as he did not touch — or touched only symbolically — the two great tools of pillage that the English aristocracy had granted itself by law: the Corn Laws and the colonial system.

It is especially in this difficult part of his mission that the Prime Minister displayed all the ingenuity of his resourceful mind.

When an import duty raises the price of a product to a level that domestic competition by itself cannot exceed, its full protective effect has been achieved. Any further increase in duty becomes purely nominal, just as any reduction [lix] that does not fall below this threshold is entirely ineffective, both for producers and consumers. Consider this example. Suppose a French product exposed to foreign competition sells for 15 francs. If freed from foreign competition, it could not rise above 20 francs due to domestic competition. In this case, a duty of 5 or 6 francs on the foreign equivalent would provide the maximum protection possible under the tariff system. Even if the duty were raised to 100 francs, the price of the domestic product would not increase by a single centime, under the same hypothesis, and as a result, any reduction in duty that does not drop below 5 or 6 francs would be meaningless for both the producer and the consumer.

It seems that Sir Robert Peel observed this phenomenon carefully in his approach to the two great aristocratic monopolies: wheat, and the great colonial monopoly of sugar.

We have seen that the Corn Law, which was explicitly intended to guarantee national producers a price of 64 shillings per quarter of wheat, failed to achieve this goal. The sliding scale was designed to accomplish this, by adding a variable import duty that should have raised the market price to 70 shillings or more. However, competition among domestic producers on the one hand, and a reduction in consumption caused by higher prices on the other hand, have combined to keep the price of wheat to an average lower rate which has not exceeded 56 shillings. What did Sir Robert Peel do? He cut the portion of the duty that had become completely ineffective, and lowered [lx] the sliding scale in such a way as to fix wheat prices at 56 shillings, that is to say, at the highest price that domestic competition would allow in normal times. Thus, in reality, he took nothing away from the aristocracy and gave nothing to the people.

In this regard, Sir Robert Peel did not hide his sleight-of-hand tactics, for whenever higher duties were requested, he replied:

“I believe you have had conclusive proof that you have reached the extreme limit of profitable taxation on articles of subsistence. I advise you not to increase it, for if you do, you will most assuredly be defeated in your object.”

I have spoken only of wheat, but it is important to note that the same law applies to all types of grain. Moreover, butter and cheese, which constitute a significant part of the revenue of seigneurial estates, were not exempt from duties. It is therefore entirely true that the aristocratic monopoly has been barely touched and remains largely intact.

The same strategy guided the various modifications introduced in the sugar laws. We have seen that the premium granted to plantation owners, or the differential duty between colonial and foreign sugar, was 39 shillings per quintal. This was the margin of plunder available to them. However, due to competition among the colonies themselves, they were only able to extort from consumers — in excess of the natural price [lxi] and the fiscal duty — a total of 18 shillings. (See above, p. 245.) Sir Robert Peel could therefore lower the differential duty from 39 shillings to 18, without changing anything except a dead letter in the statute book.

So, what did he do? He established the following tariff:

Colonial sugar (unrefined)	14 sh.
Colonial sugar (refined)	16 sh.
Foreign sugar (free labour, unrefined)	23 sh.
Foreign sugar (free labour, refined)	28 sh.
Foreign sugar (slave labour)	63 sh.

He estimates that, under this new tariff, 230,000 tons of colonial sugar will enter England, and with a protection rate of 10 shillings per quintal, or 10 pounds sterling per ton, the total sum extorted from consumers — to be handed over without compensation to plantation owners — will amount to £2,300,000, or 57,000,000 francs. Instead of 86 million francs (See page 246).

But on the other hand, he states: “The consequence will be that the Treasury will receive from the sugar duty, as a result of the reduction, £3,960,000. The revenue obtained from this commodity last year was £5,216,000; therefore, next year there will be a revenue loss of £5,300,000,” equivalent to 32,500,000 francs. And it is the income tax — meaning a new tax — that is tasked with filling the gap left in the Treasury. Thus, if the people are relieved in terms of sugar consumption, it is not at the expense of the monopoly, but at the expense of the Treasury. And since the Treasury is compensated for its loss in customs revenue through the income tax, the plunder and charges [lxii] remain the same, at most, they have undergone a slight displacement.

Throughout all the reforms — real or apparent — carried out by Sir Robert Peel, his preference for the colonial system is evident, and it is this that separates him fundamentally from the free-traders. Every time the minister reduced the duty on a foreign commodity, he ensured that the equivalent colonial product was also relieved, and often by an even greater margin. As a result, protection remained unchanged. For instance, to cite just one example: The duty on foreign timber was reduced by five-sixths. But the duty on colonial timber was reduced by nine-tenths. Thus, the wealth of the younger branches of the aristocracy was not seriously affected, just as the wealth of the elder branches remained intact. From this perspective, one can say that the financial statement, the bold experiment of the minister, remained a purely English matter and did not rise to the level of a humanitarian issue. For humanity is only indirectly concerned with the internal regimeof the British Exchequer, but it would have been profoundly and favorably affected by a reform — even a financial one — that would have led to the downfall of the colonial system, which has so greatly disturbed the world and still poses a grave threat to peace and liberty.

Far from following the League’s lead on colonial affairs, Sir Robert Peel, in the statement of reasons for his [lxiii] financial plan, after reminding the House that England possesses forty-five colonies and even requesting an increase in allocations for them, adds:

“One might say that it is unwise to extend our colonial system as much as we have. But I stand by the fact that you have colonies, and having them, you must provide them with sufficient forces. Moreover, although I am aware of the expenses and dangers that this system entails, I would be reluctant to condemn this policy, which has led us to plant on various points of the globe these possessions animated by the English spirit, speaking the English language, and destined perhaps, in the future, to rise to the rank of great commercial powers!”

I believe I have demonstrated that Sir Robert Peel has skillfully executed the most harmful parts of his program. What remains for me is to justify the reasoning behind the prediction that led me to state:

“One may still believe that this eminent man, who more than anyone else knows how to read the signs of the times, and who sees the principles of the League spreading across England with giant strides, harbors deep within his soul a personal yet glorious ambition: to secure the support of the free-traders for the moment when they will have won the majority, so that he himself may place the final seal upon the triumph of free trade, ensuring that no other official name but his own will be attached to the greatest revolution of modern times.”

Since this is merely a conjecture, [lxiv] which — considering the humble source from which it comes — can hold little importance for the reader, I see no need to justify it further before their very eyes. Yet, I do not believe that it is utopian for anyone who has studied the economic situation of the United Kingdom, the probable outcome of the reforms it is undergoing, the character of the man leading them, the movement and shifts in parliamentary majorities, even those occurring today, and above all, the rapid spread of public opinion among the masses and the electorate. So far, Sir Robert Peel has shown himself to be a great financier, a great minister, and perhaps even a great statesman. Why should he not aspire to the title of a great man, one that posterity will likely reserve only for the true benefactors of humanity?

It may interest the reader to glimpse the probable outcome of these reforms, which, for now, we only see in their earliest outlines. A recent pamphlet has revealed a financial plan designed to rally the influential members of the League. We mention it here because of its admirable simplicity, because of its perfect alignment with the purest principles of free trade, and because it is far from lacking official significance. Indeed, it comes from an officer of the Board of Trade, Mr. Mac Gregor, just as postal reform was first advocated by an employee of the Post Office, Mr. Rowland Hill. Furthermore, its resemblance to the changes introduced by Sir Robert Peel suggests that it was not published without his knowledge, and even less so against his will.

[lxv]

Here is the plan proposed by the Secretary of the Board of Trade.

He assumes that public expenditure, as it stands today, will remain at £50 million. However, it is expected to decrease significantly, as the plan calls for major reductions in the army, the navy, the colonial administration, and tax collection costs. If so, the revenue surplus could be used for paying off the national debt, and reducing direct taxation, which we will now discuss.

Revenue comes from the following sources:

Customs Duties – The same duties will apply whether goods come from the colonies or from foreign countries.

Only eight products will be subject to import duties:

1.) Tea; 2.) Sugar 3.) Coffee and cocoa; 4.) Tobacco; 5.) Distilled spirits; 6.) Wine; 7.) Dried fruits;8.) Spices.

Projected revenue: £21,500,000 222.Domestic duties on distilled spirits – £5,000,000 223.Duties on malt (both domestic and imported) – £5,000,000 224.Subtotal: £31,500,000

These last two taxes will be administered under the Customs system.

Stamp Duty – With exemptions for marine and fire insurance taxes, but incorporating licensing fees.

Projected revenue: £7,500,000

Land Tax (not yet redeemed) – £1,200,000

Remaining Deficit – To be covered in the first year by a direct tax combining the income tax and the land tax. £9,800,000

Total Revenue equals Total Expenditure: £50,000,000

Regarding the Postal Service, Mr. Mac Gregor believes it should not be a source of government revenue. Since the current postage rate is already as low as possible — being reduced to the smallest currency denomination used in England — it cannot be lowered further. However, any surplus revenue from the postal service should be invested in improving its operations and expanding the number of steamships.

[lxvi]

It must be observed that, under this system:

1. Protection is completely abolished, since customs duties apply only to goods that England does not produce, except for spirits and malt. But even these are subject to the same duty as their foreign equivalents.
2. The colonial system is radically overturned. From a commercial standpoint, the colonies become independent of the metropole, and the metropole of the colonies, because duties are uniform. There are no more privileges, and everyone remains free to procure goods from the most advantageous market. As a result, if a colony politically separated from the mother country, it would bring no change to its trade and industry. The only effect would be financial relief.
3. The entire financial administration of Great Britain is reduced to: the collection of direct taxes, a significantly simplified customs system, and stamp duties. The assessed taxes and excise duties are abolished, internal and external transactions are left to a freedom and speed whose effects are incalculable.

Here, in a very abbreviated form, is the financial plan that appears to be the type, the ideal, towards which one cannot fail to recognize that these reforms are moving; reforms which, it is true are far off in the distance, are happening before the eyes of an inattentive France.This digression may serve as a justification for the prediction I dared [lxvii] to make about the future and ultimate aims of Sir Robert Peel.

I have endeavored to clearly present the question at issue in England. I have described the battlefield, I have outlined the magnitude of the interests at stake, I have examined the forces which confront each other, and I have analyzed the consequences of victory. I believe I have demonstrated that, although at first glance, all the intensity of the struggle seems concentrated on issues of taxation, customs duties, grain, and sugar, in reality, the true stakes are: monopoly vs. freedom, aristocracy vs. democracy, and equality vs. inequality in the distribution of well-being. At its core, this is about determining whether legislative power and political influence will remain in the hands of those who pillage or those who labor, that is, whether they will continue to add yeast to ferment more trouble and violence in the world, or to sow the seeds of concord, union, justice, and peace.

What would one think of a historian who imagined that Europe, armed at the beginning of this century, was maneuvering its countless armies under the leadership of its most skilled generals, merely to determine who would retain the narrow battlefields of Austerlitz or Wagram?Dynasties and empires depended on these struggles. But while the triumphs of force may be fleeting, those of opinion are not. And when we see an entire great nation — one whose global influence is undisputed — imbued with ideas of justice [lxviii] and truth, when we see it renouncing the false ideas of supremacy that have for so long made it dangerous to other nations, when we see it ready to strip political power from a greedy and disruptive oligarchy, let us not believe, even if the first battles seem focused on economic issues, that greater and nobler interests are not at stake in this struggle. For if, despite many lessons in injustice, despite numerous examples of international corruption, England — this tiny point on the globe — has managed to be the cradle of so many great and useful ideas; if it was the birthplace of the free press, the jury system, representative government, and the abolition of slavery — all of this despite the resistance of a powerful and ruthless oligarchy — then what should the world expect from this same England, when its entire moral, social, and political power has passed into the hands of democracy, through a slow and peaceful revolution, painstakingly carried out within the minds of men, led by an association whose members, through their superior intelligence and unwavering morality, bring immense honor to their country and their time? Such a revolution is not an event, not an accident, not a catastrophe born of some fleeting and irresistible enthusiasm. It is, if I may say so, a slow social upheaval, transforming all the conditions of society’s existence, altering the very environment in which it lives and breathes. It is justice seizing power and common sense taking hold [lxix] of authority. It is the general good — the welfare of the people, of the masses, of the humble and the great, of the strong and the weak — becoming the guiding principle of politics. It is privilege, abuse, and caste disappearing from the stage, not through a palace revolution, not through a street riot, but through a gradual and widespread realization of the rights and duties of man. In a word, it is the triumph of human liberty. It is the death of monopoly, that Proteus with a thousand faces — conqueror, slave-owner, theocrat, feudal lord, industrialist, merchant, financier, and even philanthropist.No matter what disguise it assumes, monopoly can no longer withstand the gaze of public opinion,for public opinion has learned to recognize it, whether in the red uniform of the soldier or the black robe of the priest, in the planter’s vest or the embroidered coat of a noble peer. Freedom for all! To each, the just and naturalreward of his labor! To each, fair and natural access to equality, in proportion to his efforts, his intelligence, his foresight, and his morality! Free trade with the whole world!Peace with the whole world! No more colonial subjugation! No more army, no more navy than what is necessary to maintain national independence! A clear distinction between what is and what is not the function of the government and the law!A political system reduced to ensuring for each individual his liberty and security from any unjust aggression, whether foreign or domestic! A just tax system, designed to properly fund those entrusted with this task, not as a disguisefor external usurpation under the name of markets, nor as a [lxx] mask for the plunder of citizens by each other under the name of protection. This is what is at stake in England, on a battlefield that, in appearance, seems so narrow, a mere customs dispute. But this issue involves slavery in its modern form, because, as Mr. Gibson, a member of the League, declared in Parliament: “To seize men and force them to labor for one's own profit, or to seize the fruits of their labor, this is always slavery. The only difference is one of degree.”

At the sight of this revolution, I will not say that one is being prepared, but that one is happening now in a neighboring country, a country whose destiny undeniably holds global significance; at the sight of the clear symptoms of this humanitarian movement, symptoms now evident even in diplomatic and parliamentary circles, through the successive reforms that, over the past four years, have been wrested from the aristocracy; at the sight of this great Movement, one far more powerful than the Irish unrest, one far more significant in its consequences, for it aims, among other things, to transform the relations between nations, to change the conditions of its industrial life, to replace the principle of antagonism with the principle of fraternity in international affairs, at the sight of all this, one cannot help but be astounded at the profound, universal, and systematic silence that the French press seems to have imposed upon itself. Of all the social phenomena I have ever had the opportunity to observe, this silence — and even more so, its success — is undoubtedly [lxxi] the one that fills me with the greatest astonishment. That a petty German prince, through sheer vigilance, might have managed, for a few months, to prevent news of the French Revolution from reaching his domains, this one could, at a stretch, understand. But that in the heart of a great nation, a nation that prides itself on possessing freedom of the press and of speech, its newspapers could have succeeded, for seven consecutive years, in concealing from public knowledge the greatest social movement of modern times, and in suppressing facts that — beyond their humanitarian significance — are already exerting an irresistible influence on our own industrial regime, this is a miracle of strategy so incredible that posterity will refuse to believe it, and one whose mystery must be unveiled.

I know that, in times like these, it is unwise to challenge the periodical press. It rules over us all with arbitrary power. Woe to anyone who escapes its despotism, for it demands absolute obedience! Woe to anyone who provokes its wrath, for it is fatal! To defy the press is not courage, it is madness. For courage faces the risks of a fair fight, but only madness invites a battle where there is no chance of victory. And what chance could one possibly have before the tribunal of public opinion, when, even to defend oneself, one must borrow the voice of one’s adversary? When the press can crush you at will, whether by its words or by its silence? No matter! Things have come to such a point that one act of independence may, within [lxxii] journalism itself, trigger a favorable reaction. In the physical world, an excess of corruption leads to destruction. But in the imperishable realm of thought, it can only bring about a return to truth. What does it matter what becomes of the reckless soul who dares to ring the bell? I sincerely believe that journalism is deceiving the public. I sincerely believe I know why. And come what may, my conscience tells me I must not remain silent.

In a country where the spirit of association does not prevail, where men neither have the ability, nor the habit, nor perhaps even the desire to gather and openly discuss their common interests, newspapers, despite what one might say, are not the voice of public opinion, they are its creators. In France, there exist only two things: isolated individuals, without connections, without relations among themselves, and a single great voice — the press — that endlessly rings in their ears. The press personifies criticism, but it cannot itself be criticized. How could public opinion restrain it, when it dictates and governs public opinion itself? In England, newspapers are merely commentators, reporters, and vehicles of ideas, sentiments, and passions, which are formed in the meetings of Conciliation Hall, Covent Garden, and Exeter Hall. But here, where they direct public thought, our only remaining hope that falsehood will one day fall and truth will triumph lies in the contradictions between newspapers themselves, and in the mutual scrutiny they exert upon each other.

[lxxiii]

One can thus easily understand that if there were a topic on which all newspapers, regardless of their political stance, had an interest in misrepresenting or even suppressing, then, given our current customs and our limited means of investigation, they could — without too much risk — entirely mislead public opinion on that specific issue. What could you possibly do to oppose this new alliance? Did you just return from London? Do you wish to report what you saw and heard? The newspapers will shut their columns to you. Will you decide to write a book instead? They will ridicule it, or, worse still, they will let it die a silent death. And you will have the bitter consolation of one day finding it:

At the grocer’s,
Rolled up in the shop as a paper cone.

Will you speak at the podium? Your speech will be truncated, distorted, or buried in silence.

This is precisely what has happened with the issue at hand.

That some newspapers would take up the cause of monopoly and national hatreds should surprise no one. Monopoly unites many interests; false patriotism fuels many intrigues; and as long as these intrigues and interests exist, we should not be astonished that they have their own mouthpiece. But that the entire periodical press, both Parisian and provincial, both northern and southern, both left and [lxxiv] right, should unanimously trample upon the most well-established principles of political economy; should rob man of the right to exchange freely according to his interests; should fan the flames of international enmity, with the patent and nearly openly admitted goal of preventing nations from drawing closer and uniting through trade; and should conceal from the public the external facts connected to this issue, this is a strange phenomenon that must have an explanation. I will attempt to explain it as I sincerely perceive it. I do not attack sincere opinions; I respect them all. I merely seek to understand a fact as extraordinary as it is undeniable, and to answer this question: How has it happened that among the incalculable number of newspapers, which represent every political position imaginable, even the most eccentric that human imagination could conceive, while socialism, communism, the abolition of inheritance, of property, of family all find their advocates, the right to exchange, the right of men to trade the fruits of their labor with one another has not found a single defender in the press? What strange coincidence of circumstances has brought newspapers of all political stripes — so diverse and so opposed on every other issue — to form, with touching unanimity, a common front in defense of monopoly, and to become tireless instigators of national jealousies, by which monopoly is sustained, strengthened, and gains ground daily?

To begin with, there is a first class of newspapers that has a direct interest in ensuring that the system of protection [lxxv] prevails in France. I refer to those that are notoriously subsidized by committees made up of monopolists, whether agricultural, manufacturing, or colonial. To smother the ideas of economists, to popularize the sophisms that uphold the regime of plunder, to exalt private interests that conflict with the general interest, to bury in the deepest silence any facts that might awaken and enlighten public awareness, this is the mission they have taken upon themselves. And they must, after all, earn in good conscience the subsidies that monopoly pays them.

But this immoral task leads inevitably to an even more immoral one. It is not enough to systematize falsehood, for falsehood is ephemeral by nature. One must also anticipate the time when the idea of free trade will have prevailed in the minds of the people and will seek to manifest itself in law. And what greater masterstroke than to have already made its realization impossible in advance? The newspapers I speak of have not merely preached the theoretical isolation of nations. They have also sought to provoke such hostility among them that nations would become far more inclined to exchange cannonballs than goods. There has not been a single diplomatic problem that they have not exploited for this purpose: The evacuation of Ancona, the Eastern Question, the right of search, Tahiti, Morocco — all were fair game.

“Let the people hate one another,” said Monopoly, “Let them remain ignorant of each other, let them reject one another, let them provoke one another, let them slaughter one another. And whatever becomes of economic doctrines, my reign is assured for a long time to come!”

[lxxvi]

It is not difficult to uncover the hidden motives that align the so-called parliamentary opposition newspapers with the adversaries of unity and the free communication of nations.

Under our constitution, those who are supposed to scrutinize the activities of the ministers can become ministers themselves if they give their scrutiny enough ferocity and pubic awareness to discredit and overthrow those they aspire to replace. Whatever one may think in other respects of such an arrangement, one must at least admit that it is marvelously suited to poisoning the struggle between parties for power. The deputies who seek ministerial office can hardly have any other thought in mind, and public common sense expresses that thought in a way both crude and vivid: "Get out of there so I can take your place." It is easy to see how this personal opposition naturally centers its operations on foreign affairs. One cannot easily deceive the public about what they see, touch, and directly experience. But on what happens abroad, on what only reaches them through unreliable and fragmented translations, it is not necessary to be right, it is enough, and quite easy, to create an illusion that lasts just long enough. Moreover, by appealing to the spirit of nationalism, so powerful in France, by proclaiming oneself the sole defender of our glory, our flag, our independence, by constantly tying the ministry’s survival to foreign interests, one can strike at it with irresistible popular force. [lxxvii] For what minister could hope to stay in power, if public opinion holds him to be cowardly, treacherous, and to have sold out to a rival nation?

The party leaders and the newspapers that harness themselves to their chariot are therefore forced to fan the flames of national hatred. For how else can they claim that the ministry is cowardly, without also arguing that foreign nations are disrespectful? How can they convince the people that they are governed by traitors, without first proving that they are surrounded by enemies who seek to lay down the law to them?

This is how the newspapers devoted to elevating a single political name, work hand in hand with those funded by monopolists, to keep Europe forever on the brink of war, and thus to block all international reconciliation, all commercial reform.

The author of this work does not mean, in saying this, to engage in politics, much less in partisan strife. He is attached to none of the great figures whose battles dominate the press and the podium. But he is wholeheartedly devoted to the general and permanent interests of his country, to the cause of truth and eternal justice. He believes that these interests and those of humanity are not opposed but one and the same. And for that reason, he sees it as the height of perversity to turn national hatreds into a mere parliamentary weapon. Moreover, let it not be said that he seeks to justify the foreign policy of the current cabinet. He does not forget that the very man who now directs it once used against his rivals the same weapons that his rivals now turn against him.

[lxxviii]

Shall we seek international impartiality and economic truth in the legitimist and republican newspapers? These two political factions operate outside the realm of personal struggles, since access to power is forbidden to them. It would seem, therefore, that nothing prevents them from advocating with independence the cause of commercial freedom. Yet, we see them persistently opposing the free communication of nations. Why? I do not attack intentions or individuals. I recognize that at the core of these two great parties, there are ideas whose validity may be disputed, but whose sincerity cannot. Unfortunately, this sincerity is not always evident in the newspapers that represent them. When one has assigned oneself the mission of every day undermining an order of things believed to be corrupt, one eventually ceases to be very scrupulous in choosing one's means. To embarrass the government, to obstruct its course, to discredit it, these become the sad necessities of a polemical war that thinks only of clearing the ground of the institutions and the men who govern, to replace them with other men and other institutions. Here again, appealing to patriotic passions, stirring sentiments of national pride, glory, and supremacy, emerges as the most effective weapon. Abuse soon follows use, and thus the well-being and liberty of citizens, the great cause of the fraternity of nations, are unscrupulously sacrificed to this preliminary work of destruction, which these parties consider their first mission and foremost duty.

[lxxix]

If the requirements of political struggle have made it necessary for the opposition press to sacrifice freedom of commerce, because by promoting the harmony of international relations, it would rob them of a powerful instrument of attack, then it would seem that, by that very logic, the government press would have an interest in defending it. But this is not the case. The government, crushed under the weight of unanimous accusations, facing an unpopularity that shakes the ground beneath its feet, knows well that the weak voice of its newspapers cannot silence the outcry of all opposing factions combined. It adopts another tactic. Is it accused of being servile to foreign interests? Then it will prove its independence and national pride through action. It will raise tariffs everywhere. It will boldly uphold differential duties. And among the countless islands of the vast ocean, it will seize the one whose conquest is most likely to provoke conflict and inflict the greatest offense to foreign sensitivities! The provincial press could have exposed these maneuvers and thwarted them.

"At least one humble servant was left to me,
Who had not been infected by this foul air."

Yet, instead of counteracting the Parisian press, it waits humbly, naively, for its orders. It does not want a life of its own. It is accustomed to receiving by post the idea to be diluted, the maneuver to be supported, whether in favor of M. Thiers, [lxxx] M. Molé, or M. Guizot. Its pen is in Lyon, Toulouse, Bordeaux, but its mind is in Paris.

Thus, it is true that the strategy of newspapers, whether from Paris or the provinces, whether representing the left, right, or center, has led them to join forces with those funded by committees of monopolists, to deceive public opinion about the great social movement unfolding in England. They either never speak of it or, when forced to do so, portray it — like the abolition of slavery — as the product of some deep Machiavellian scheme, designed to exploit the world for the benefit of Britain, by the exercise of liberty itself.

This childish suspicion would surely not withstand the reading of this book. By seeing the free-traders act, by hearing them speak, by following step by step the dramatic turns of this mighty movement that stirs an entire people, and whose certain outcome is the fall of the oligarchic supremacy that we ourselves consider the very source of Britain's danger, it seems impossible to persist in the belief that so many resolute efforts, so much sincere passion, so much life, so much action, could all have no other aim than to deceive a neighboring nation into founding its own industrial legislation on the principles of justice and freedom.

For indeed, it will be necessary to recognize, upon reading this, [lxxxi] that in England there exist two classes, two people, two interests, two principles — in a word: aristocracy and democracy. If one seeks inequality, the other strives for equality; if one defends restriction of trade, the other demands freedom; if one aspires to conquest, to the colonial regime, to political supremacy, to exclusive dominion over the seas, the other works toward universal emancipation, that is, to repudiate conquest, to break colonial ties, to replace, in international relations, the artificial schemes of diplomacy with the free and voluntary relations of commerce. And is it not absurd to wrap both these classes, both these people, both these principles with the same cloak of hatred, when one must necessarily be favorable to humanity if the other is opposed to it? Under penalty of the most blind and gross inconsistency, we must extend our hand either to the English people or to the English aristocracy. If freedom, peace, equality of legal status, the right to the natural wage of labor are our principles, we must sympathize with the League; if, on the contrary, we believe that plunder, conquest, monopoly, and the successive invasion of all regions of the globe are for a people elements of grandeur that do not obstruct the regular development of other nations, then it is the English aristocracy that we must unite with. But once again, the height of absurdity, what would be most likely to make us the laughingstock of nations, and what would later cause us to blush at our own folly, would be to witness this struggle [lxxxii] between two opposing principles, while harboring equal hatred and exasperation toward the soldiers of both camps. This sentiment, worthy of the infancy of societies, and which is so bizarrely mistaken for national pride, might have been excusable until now, given the complete ignorance in which we have been kept about this very struggle; but to persist in it now that it has been revealed to us would be to admit that we have neither principles, nor perspective, nor fixed ideas; it would be to renounce all dignity; it would be to proclaim before a world astonished that we are no longer thinking beings, that it is no longer reason, but blind instinct that guides our actions and our sympathies.

If I do not deceive myself, this work should also be of some literary interest. The orators of the League have often risen to the highest levels of political eloquence, and this was to be expected. For what external circumstances and what conditions of the soul are most likely to develop the power of oratory? Is it not a great struggle, where the individual interest of the speaker fades before the vastness of the public cause? And what struggle embodies this more than the battle between the world's most enduring aristocracy and its most dynamic democracy, waging war with the weapons of the law, speech, and reason, one for its unjust and age-old privileges, the other for the sacred rights of labor, for peace, for liberty, for fraternity within the great human family?

Our forefathers too fought this battle, and in those days, [lxxxiii] revolutionary passions transformed men into powerful tribunes of the people, men who, without such political storms, would have remained buried in mediocrity, unknown to the world, unknown even to themselves. It was the Revolution that, like the burning coal of Isaiah, touched their lips and set their hearts ablaze; but at that time, social science, the knowledge of the laws governing humanity, could neither nourish nor discipline their fiery eloquence. The dogmatic doctrines of Raynal and Rousseau, the outdated sentiments borrowed from the Greeks and Romans, the errors of the eighteenth century, and the theatrical rhetoric, with which it was then the fashion to adorn these errors, if these things did not diminish, but rather enhanced the passionate character of their eloquence, they have made it sterile for a more enlightened age; for it is not enough to speak to the passions, one must also speak to the intellect, and, while touching the heart, one must also satisfy the mind.

This, I believe, is what one will find in the speeches of Cobden, Thompson, Fox, Gibson, and Bright. No longer the magical yet vague words of liberty, equality, fraternity, which awaken our instincts rather than our ideas; but rather science, exact science, the science of Smith and Say, which borrows the fire of passion from the unrest of our times, without its pure light ever being obscured by it.

Far be it from me to dispute the talents of the orators of my country. But is it not necessary to have an audience, a stage, and above all, a cause, for the power of speech to rise to the full height it is capable of attaining? [lxxxiv] Is it in the wars of ministerial portfolios, in personal rivalries, in the antagonism of cliques? Is it when the people, the nation, and humanity are kept out of the matter? Is it when the combatants have renounced all principles, all consistency in political thought, when we see them, after a ministerial crisis, exchanging ideas as readily as they exchange seats, so that the fiery patriot becomes a prudent diplomat, while the apostle of peace transforms into a Tyrtaeus of war? Is it under these narrow and petty conditions that the mind can expand and the soul elevate itself? No, no! Political eloquence needs to breathe another kind of air. It requires struggle, not the struggle of individuals, but the struggle of eternal justice against obstinate injustice. The eye must be fixed on great outcomes, the soul must contemplate them, desire them, hope for them, cherish them, and human language must serve only to pour these powerful desires, these noble aims, this pure love, and these cherished hopes into other sympathetic souls.

One of the most striking and instructive features among all those that characterize the Movement I am striving to reveal to my country is the complete rejection of party spirit among the free-traders and their separation from both the Whigs and the Tories.

Undoubtedly, party spirit always takes care to adorn itself with the name of public spirit. But there is an infallible sign by which one may distinguish them. When a measure is presented to Parliament, public spirit [lxxxv] asks: What are you? Party spirit asks: Where do you come from? The minister presents this proposal; therefore, it is bad or must be bad, and the reason? Because it comes from the minister who must be overthrown.

Party spirit is the greatest scourge of constitutional nations. Through the relentless obstacles it places in the way of administration, it prevents good from being realized domestically; and because it seeks its main leverage in foreign affairs, because its tactic is to exacerbate tensions to show that the cabinet is incapable of managing them, it follows that party spirit, when in opposition, places the nation in perpetual antagonism with other people and in a constant danger of war.

On the other hand, party spirit in ministerial ranks is neither less blind nor less compromising. Since ministerial survival is no longer determined by the competence or incompetence of their administration, but by votes that are resolved to be black or white no matter what, the main concern of the cabinet is to recruit as many favorable votes as possible through parliamentary and electoral corruption.

The English nation has suffered more than any other under the long domination of party spirit, and this is not a lesson we should disregard. At this moment, the free-traders are setting an example, with more than a hundred strong in the House of Commons, they are determined to examine each measure on its own merits, judging it by the principles of universal justice and general utility, without concern for whether [lxxxvi] it suits Peel or Russell, the Tories or the Whigs, whether it is adopted or rejected.

There seem to be useful and practical lessons to be drawn from the reading of this book. I am not referring to the economic knowledge it is so well suited to disseminate. What I have in mind now is the constitutional tactics for achieving the resolution of a great national question, in other words, the art of building a Movement. We are still novices in this kind of strategy. I do not fear wounding national pride by saying that a long experience has given the English the knowledge that we lack, the knowledge of the means by which a principle is made to triumph, not through a one-day riot, but through a slow, patient, and relentless struggle, through deep discussion, through the education of public opinion. In some countries, the person who conceives the idea of a reform begins by summoning the government to carry it out, without worrying about whether the minds of the people are ready to accept it. The government disregards it, and that is the end of the matter. In England, the person who has an idea they believe to be useful first turns to their fellow citizens who share the same belief. They gather, they organize, they seek to make converts, and this is already the first stage of its refinement, in which many dreams and utopias evaporate. If, however, the idea has intrinsic value, it gains ground, it spreads through all layers of society, it extends from one group to another. The opposing idea also provokes the formation of its own associations, and its own [lxxxvii] resistance. This marks the period of public and universal discussion, of petitions, of motions constantly renewed; the number of parliamentary votes is counted, progress is measured, it is supported by purging electoral lists, and finally, when the day of victory arrives, the parliamentary verdict is not a revolution; it is merely a recognition of the state of mind (of the nation). The reform of the law follows the reform of ideas, and one can be assured that the popular victory is secured forever.

From this perspective, the example of the League has seemed to me worthy of our imitation. Let me quote what a German traveler says on this subject:

“It is in Manchester,” says J. G. Kohl, “that the permanent sessions of the League’s committee are held. Thanks to the kindness of a friend, I was able to enter the vast hall where I had the opportunity to see and hear things that surprised me to the highest degree. George Wilson and other renowned leaders of the League, gathered in the Council Chamber, received me with as much openness as affability, answering all my questions immediately and bringing me up to speed on all the details of their operations. I could not help but wonder what would become of men engaged in attacking, with such talent and boldness, the fundamental laws of the state if they were in Germany. No doubt they would long ago be groaning in dark dungeons, instead of working freely and audaciously on their great [lxxxviii] cause, in the full light of day. I also asked myself whether in Germany, such men would admit a foreigner into all their secrets with such candor and cordiality.

I was astonished to see that these League members, all private citizens — merchants, manufacturers, writers — were leading a major political enterprise as though they were ministers and statesmen. The aptitude for public affairs seems to be an innate faculty among the English. While I was in the Council Chamber, a prodigious number of letters were brought in, opened, read, and answered without interruption or delay. These letters, flowing in from all parts of the United Kingdom, dealt with the most varied matters, yet all were related to the mission of the association. Some contained news of the movements of the League or of their adversaries — for the League keeps a constant watch on both friends and foes…

Through a network of local associations established across England, the League has now extended its influence throughout the country and has reached a truly extraordinary level of importance. Its festivals, exhibitions, banquets, and meetings appear as major public ceremonies… Every member who contributes 50 pounds (£1250 francs) has a seat and a vote in the council… The League has workers’ committees to spread its ideas among the laboring classes; and women’s committees to secure the sympathy and cooperation of women. It has professors and [lxxxix] orators who travel incessantly across the country to ignite the fire of agitation among the people. These orators frequently engage in public debates and discussions with speakers from the opposing party, and almost always, the latter leave the battlefield defeated… The League writes directly to the Queen, the Duke of Wellington, Sir Robert Peel, and other distinguished men, and never fails to send them its newspapers and detailed, always accurate reports of its operations. Sometimes, the League even sends deputations to the most eminent members of the English aristocracy, delegations charged with confronting them with the harshest truths.

One can well imagine that the League does not neglect the power of that hundred-armed giant, the Press. Not only does it spread its opinions through newspapers that support it, but it also publishes a great number of periodicals dedicated exclusively to its cause. These publications naturally contain reports on the League’s operations, subscriptions, meetings, speeches against the protectionist regime, endlessly repeating that monopoly is contrary to the order of nature and that the League’s mission is to establish the just order of Providence… The Association for Free Trade especially relies on those short and inexpensive pamphlets called tracts, the favorite weapon of English polemics. It is with these brief, popular essays, sold for just two sous, written by [xc] eminent figures like Cobden and Bright, that the League perpetually assails the public, maintaining a constant fusillade of small shots. It does not even scorn lighter weapons: posters, placards displaying mottos, thoughts, slogans, aphorisms, and verses, sometimes grave, sometimes humorous, philosophical or satirical, but all focused on one precise goal: Monopoly and Free Trade… The League and the anti-League have even taken their battle into schoolbooks, seeding the elements of the debate into the minds of future generations.

All of the League’s publications are not only written but printed, put in envelopes, and distributed within the halls of the Manchester Committee. I walked through rooms filled with people performing these various tasks until I reached the great warehouse, where books, newspapers, reports, charts, pamphlets, and posters were stacked like bales of muslin or calico. We finally arrived at the refreshment hall, where elegant ladies served us tea. A conversation ensued…”

Since Mr. Kohl has spoken about the participation of English women in the work of the League, I hope it will not be deemed out of place to offer a few reflections on the subject. I have no doubt that the reader will be surprised, perhaps even scandalized, to see women taking part in these stormy debates. It seems that a woman loses some of her grace by venturing into this scientific battle, bristling [xci] with barbaric terms like Tariffs, Wages, Profits, Monopolies. What could there possibly be in common between such dry dissertations and this ethereal being, this angel of tender affections, this poetic and devoted nature, whose only destiny is to love and to please, to sympathize and to console?

But while a woman may shrink back at the sight of a heavy syllogism and cold statistics, she is endowed with marvelous wisdom, with a quickness and certainty of judgment, which enable her to grasp the aspects of a serious cause that resonate with the inclinations of her heart. She has understood that the League’s struggle is a cause of justice and reparation for the suffering classes. She has realized that charity is not the only form of compassion. “We are always ready to help the unfortunate,” they say, “but that is no reason why the law should create more unfortunates.” We want to feed the hungry, to clothe the cold, but we applaud those who seek to tear down the barriers that stand between clothing and nakedness, between sustenance and starvation.

And besides, the role that English women have taken in the League’s movement, is it not in perfect harmony with the mission of women in society? It is celebrations, evenings held in honor of the free-traders. It is splendor, warmth, and life, brought by their presence to these great oratorical contests, where the fate of the masses is being debated. It is a magnificent trophy offered to the most eloquent speaker or to the most tireless champion of freedom.

[xcii]

A philosopher once said:

“A people has only one thing to do to cultivate within itself all virtues, all useful energies. It is simply to honor what is honorable and to despise what is despicable.”

And who is the natural dispenser of honor and shame? It is woman. Woman, endowed with such an infallible instinct for discerning the morality of an objective, the purity of a motive, the propriety of its forms. Woman, who, as a mere spectator of our social struggles, is always in a position of impartiality, a quality too often lacking in our own sex. Woman, whose sympathy for all that is noble and beautiful is never chilled by sordid interest or cold calculation. Woman, finally, who defends with a tear and commands with a smile.

In ages past, women crowned the victors of the tournament. Courage, skill, and clemency were popularized by the intoxicating sound of their applause. In those troubled times, when brutal force weighed heavily upon the weak and the oppressed, what needed encouragement was chivalrous valor, generosity in bravery, the knight’s loyalty united with the warrior’s strength.

But what then? Because the times have changed? Because centuries have moved forward? Because muscular strength has given way to moral energy? Because injustice and oppression now take on different forms? Because the battlefield has shifted from war to the realm of ideas? Shall the mission of woman now be over? Shall she be forever cast aside [xciii] from the social movement? Shall she be forbidden to exercise her beneficial influence upon these new customs? Shall she be denied the power to foster, beneath her watchful gaze, the higher virtues that modern civilization now demands?

No, it cannot be so. There is no stage in humanity’s ascending movement where the influence of women must forever halt. Civilization transforms and lifts itself up. Her influence must transform and rise with it, not disappear. To claim otherwise would be to leave an inexplicable void in social harmony and in the providential order of things. Today, it belongs to women to bestow upon moral virtues, intellectual power, civic courage, political integrity, and enlightened philanthropy those invaluable rewards, those irresistible encouragements that they once reserved only for the bravery of warriors. Let others search for ridicule in women’s involvement in the new life of this century; I can see only what is serious and moving. Oh! If women were to cast upon political disgrace the same searing contempt with which they once branded cowardice on the battlefield! If they were to wield against those who trade a vote, those who betray a mandate, those who abandon the cause of truth and justice, some of those mortal ironies that, in other times, they would have heaped upon the treacherous knight who fled the joust or bought his life at the cost of honor. Oh! then surely our struggles would not present that spectacle of corruption and debasement that sickens noble hearts, those hearts jealous for the glory and dignity of their nation... And yet, there exist men with devoted hearts, [xciv] men of powerful intelligence. But at the sight of intrigue triumphing everywhere, they wrap themselves in a veil of reserve and pride. We see them, crushed under the repulsion of envious mediocrity, withering in a painful agony, discouraged and unrecognized. Oh! It is to the heart of woman to understand these exceptional souls. If the most repugnant abasement has corrupted every fiber of our institutions; if a vulgar greed, not content with absolute dominion, brazenly erects itself into a system; if a leaden atmosphere weighs down our social life, perhaps the reason must be sought in the fact that women have not yet taken up the mission that Providence has assigned to them.

In attempting to highlight some of the lessons that can be drawn from reading this book, I do not need to say that I attribute all merit exclusively to the orators whose speeches I have translated. For as for the translation itself, I am the first to acknowledge its extreme weakness. I have diminished the eloquence of Cobden, Fox, and George Thompson. I have neglected to introduce to the French public other powerful orators of the League — Messrs. Moore, Villiers, and Colonel Thompson. I have committed the error of not drawing enough from the rich and dramatic debates in Parliament. And, among the immense materials at my disposal, I could have made a better selection to illustrate the progress of the Movement. For all these flaws, I have only one excuse to offer the reader: Time and space failed me, especially space. For how [xcv] could I have dared to risk publishing several volumes, when I am so uncertain about the fate of even this single one, which I now submit to the judgment of the public?

At the very least, I hope that this book will rekindle some hope within the school of the economists. There was a time when they had just cause to regard the triumph of their principles as imminent. If many prejudices still lingered among the common people, the intellectual class, those dedicated to the study of moral and political sciences, were almost entirely free from them. There were still differences on questions of timing, but in matters of theory, the authority of Smith and Say was not disputed.

However, twenty years have passed, and far from gaining ground, it is not enough to say that political economy has lost ground, one could almost say it has none left at all, save for the narrow domain where the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences still stands. In theory, the strangest delusions, the most apocalyptic visions, the most bizarre utopias have seized an entire new generation. In practice, monopoly has done nothing but advance from conquest to conquest. The colonial system has expanded its foundations. The protectionist system has created artificial rewards for labor, and the general interest has been handed over to pillaging. Finally, the school of economists exists now only in a historical sense. Its books are no longer consulted, except as monuments that tell our era about the ideas of a bygone time.

And yet, a small number of men have remained [xcvi] faithful to the principle of freedom. They would remain faithful still, even if they found themselves in complete isolation, for economic truth seizes the soul with an authority second only to mathematical evidence. But even while holding fast to their faith in the ultimate triumph of truth, how could they not feel a deep discouragement when they see the state of public thought, the backward march of ideas? This sentiment is evident in a recently published book, which is undoubtedly the most significant work produced by the economist school since 1830. Without sacrificing any principles, one sees, in every line, that Mr. Dunoyer believes their realization can only be entrusted to a distant future, when bitter experience, if not reason, will have dispelled those harmful prejudices so skillfully nurtured and exploited by private interests.

In these bleak circumstances, I cannot help but hope that this book, despite its faults, will offer many consolations, rekindle many hopes, revive zeal and devotion in the hearts of my political friends. For if the flame of truth has dimmed in one place, it blazes irresistibly in another. Humanity does not regress, it marches forward with giant strides. And the time is not far off when the unity and well-being of nations will rest upon an immutable foundation: The free and fraternal exchange of all people, of all climates, and of all races.

Notes

[1] (Note by Bastiat) Anderson, 3rd Voyage of Cook.

[2] (Note by Bastiat) See the translation of this document, page 421.

[3] (Note by Bastiat) Resolution of the League Council, May 1843.

[4] (Note by Bastiat) The Anti-Corn Law League.

[5] (Note by Bastiat) One recalls the speeches of Lord Aberdeen and Sir Robert Peel on the occasion of the message from the new President of the United States. Here is how Mr. Fox expressed himself on this subject at a League meeting, to the applause of six thousand listeners:

"What is this territory over which they are disputing? 300,000 square miles, of which we claim a third; an arid desert, dried lava, the Sahara of America, the Botany Bay of the Red Indians, the empire of buffaloes and, at most, of a few Indians who take pride in calling themselves Flatheads, Split-Noses, etc. That is the object of the quarrel! We might as well have Peel and Polk urge us to fight over the Mountains of the Moon! But let the human race settle this territory. Let those who have no more hospitable homeland cultivate the least infertile parts of it, and when industry has drawn around its borders the chariot of its peaceful triumph, when young cities teem within their walls with innumerable multitudes, when the Rocky Mountains are crossed by railways, when canals link the Atlantic to the Pacific, and when the Columbia sees sail and steam gliding over its waters, then will be the time to speak of Oregon. But then too, without battalions, without ships of the line, without bombarding cities or shedding human blood, free trade will have conquered Oregon for us; and even the United States, if one can call conquest that which constitutes the good of all. They will send us their products; we will pay them with ours. There will not be a single pioneer who does not wear clothing bearing the mark of Manchester; the Sheffield brand will be imprinted on the weapon that brings down the game; and the linen of Spitalfields will be the banner we raise on the banks of the Missouri. Oregon will be conquered indeed, for it will voluntarily work for us; and what more could one ask from a conquered people? It is for us that they will grow wheat, and they will deliver it to us asking nothing in return; nothing but that we do not burden ourselves with taxes just so that an English governor may obstruct their legislature, or that an English soldiery may saber their population. Free trade! That is the true conquest, more certain than that of arms. That is empire in its noblest form, that is domination founded on reciprocal benefits, far less degrading than that which is won by the sword and maintained under an unpopular scepter." (Prolonged acclamations.)