labour and industry, seeing herself thus deceived in her expectations, will not fail to turn her activity and efforts to another quarter.

In almost every instance, it is an idle refinement to distinguish between the labour of those employed in agriculture, and of those employed in manufactures and commerce; for wealth is necessarily the result of both descriptions of labour, and consumption can no more take place independently of the one, than it can independently of the other. It is by their simultaneous concurrence that anything' becomes consumable, and, of course, that it comes to constitute wealth. How, then, are we entitled to compare their respective products, since it is impossible to distinguish these in the joint product, and thus appreciate the separate value of each? The value of growing wheat results as much from the industry of the reaper who gathers it in, of the thresher who separates it from the chaff and straw, of the miller and baker who convert it successively into flour and bread, as it does from that of the ploughman and of the sower. Without the labour of the weaver, the raw material of flax would lose all its value, and be regarded as no way superior to the most useless weed that grows. What, then, can we gain by any attempts to determine which of these two species of labour conduces most to the advancement of national wealth; or are they not as idle, as if we busied ourselves in inquiring, whether the right or the left foot is most useful in walking?

It is true, indeed, that in every species of manufacture, the workman adds to the value of the raw material, a value exactly equal to that which was expended during the process of manufacture; and what is the conclusion we are to draw from this? It is merely, that a certain exchange has taken place,

and that the food consumed by the manufacturer is now represented by the increase of value resulting from his manual labour. Thus, wool, when converted into cloth, has gained a value precisely equal to that expended by the manufacturer during the conversion. But, if it is shown, that without this exchange the wool would have remained without value, while, on the other hand, the food of the manufacturer would have been without a consumer, it will then appear, that this exchange has in fact done what is equivalent to creating these two values, and that it has proved to the society an operation infinitely more useful than if an equal quantity of labour had been spent in the increase of that rude produce which had already existed in over-abundance. The first description of labour has been truly productive; while the last would have been altogether unproductive, since it would not have created any value.

"The soil," say the Economists, "is the source of all wealth." But to prevent this assertion from leading us into erroneous conclusions, it will be necessary to explain it. The materials of all wealth originate primarily in the bosom of the earth; but it is only by the aid of labour that they can ever truly constitute wealth. The earth furnishes the means of wealth; but wealth itself cannot possibly have any existence, unless through that industry and labour which modifies, divides, connects, and combines, the various productions of the soil, so as to render them fit for consumption. Commerce, indeed, regards those rude productions as real wealth; but it is only from the consideration, that the proprietor has it always in his power to convert them at will into consumable goods, by submitting them to the necessary operations of manufacture.

They possess, as yet, merely the virtual value of a promissory note, which passes current because the bearer is assured that he can at pleasure convert it into cash. Many gold mines, which are well known, are not worked, because their whole produce would not cover the incidental expenses: but the gold which they contain is, in reality, the same with that of our coin; and yet no one would be foolish enough to call it wealth, for there is no probability it will ever be extracted from the mine, or purified; and of course it possesses no value. The wild-fowl becomes wealth, the moment it is in possession of the sportsman; while those of the very same species, that have escaped his attempts, remain without any title to the term.

It is further without question true, that all who do not possess property in land must draw their subsistence from wages received, directly or indirectly, from the proprietors, unless they violate all rights, and become robbers. In this respect, every service is alike; the most honourable and the most disgraceful receive each its wages. It is certain, too, that if the circumstances determining the rate of the various kinds of wages remain the same; that is, if the offers of service, and the demand, preserve the same proportion to each other, after as well as before the imposition of a tax; then, of course, the wages will continue at the same rate, and thus the tax, however imposed, will uniformly in the end fall on that class in the community who furnish the wages; so that they must suffer, either an addition to their former expenses, or a retrenchment of those luxuries they enjoyed. And according as the tax is less directly levied, the greater will be the burden they are subjected to; for, besides indemnifying all the other classes who have advanced the tax-money,

a further expense must be incurred, in the additional number of persons now necessary to collect it. The natural conclusion we must draw from this theory is, that a tax, directly levied on the neat revenue of the landed proprietors, is that which agrees best with reason and justice, and that which bears lightest on the contributors.

If, however, this theory should be found to throw entirely out of consideration a multitude of circumstances, which possess a powerful influence over the facility of collecting a tax, as well as over its consequences and if the general result of this influence be of far more importance than the single advantage of a less burden; then the theory, inasmuch as it neglects a part of those particulars which have their weight in the practice, is contradicted by this last. And this is exactly what happens in the question respecting the comparative advantages and inconveniencies of the two modes of levying taxes.

The habit which men have acquired, of viewing money as the representation of everything which contributes to the support or comfort of life, makes them naturally very unwilling to part with what portion of it they possess, unless it be to procure some necessary or enjoyment. We spend money with pleasure; but it requires an effort to pay a debt, and particularly so when the value received in exchange is not very obvious to the generality, as in the case of a tax. But by laying the tax on some object of consumption, by thus confounding it with the price of the latter, and by making the payment of the duty, and of the price of enjoyment, become one and the same act, we render the consumer desirous to pay the impost. It is amid the profusion of entertainments, that the duties on wine, salt, &c. are paid; the public treasury thus finding a source

of gain in the excitements to expense, produced by the extravagance and gaiety of feasts.

Another advantage of the same nature, possessed by the indirect mode of taxation, is its extreme divisibility into minute parts, and the facility which it affords to the individual, by paying it off day by day, or even minute by minute. Thus the mechanic, who sups on a portion of his day's wages, will sometimes in one quarter of an hour, pay part of four or five different duties.

In the plan of direct taxation, the impost appears without any disguise; it comes upon us unexpectedly, from the imprudence so common to the bulk of mankind, and never fails to carry with it constraint and discouragement.

All these considerations are overlooked by the friends of direct taxation; and yet their importance must be well known to all who have ever attended to the art of governing men.

But, perhaps this is not all. An indirect tax, by increasing from time to time the price of the objects of general consumption, when the members of the community have contracted the habit of this consumption, renders these objects a little more costly, and thus gives birth to that increase of labour and industry which is now required to obtain them. But if this tax be so proportioned, as not to discourage consumption, will it not then operate as an universal stimulus upon the active and industrious part of the community? Will it not incite that part to redoubled efforts, by which it may still enjoy those luxuries which, by habit, have become almost necessaries, and, of course, produce a further developement of the productive powers of labour, and of the resources of industry? Are we not, in such a case, to conclude, that after the imposition