Wednesday, November 30, 2016

The First Thanksgiving...and America's 1st Experiment in Communism

Our First Thanksgiving

Mr. Prentice is an economist, lecturer, writer, and Counselor on Profit Sharing, now living in Dobbs Ferry, New York.

Our American Thanksgiving Day is a unique holiday, a day set aside by Presidential Proclamation so that we may thank our Heavenly Father for the bountiful gifts he has bestowed on us during the year.
It is also a day dedicated to the Family, the basic unit of our American society, the core and center around which all else in America revolves. This, too, is in accord with our basic religious faith, for the Commandment has come down to us to "honor thy father and thy mother."

And so, from wherever we may be, North, South, East, or West, we Americans travel, sometimes great distances, back to the family hearth, to be present at the tradi­tional Family Reunion and Feast on Thanksgiving Day.

But Thanksgiving Day has still another meaning; on this day we are asked to remember what Ed­mund Burke, in one of the most eloquent phrases to be found in all literature, described as "that little speck, scarce visible in the mass of national interest, a small seminal principle, rather than a formed body"—the tiny vessel, more accurately to be described as a "cockleshell," the Mayflower, and its hundred passengers, men, women, and children, who sailed on her.

Twelve years earlier, in 1608, they had fled from religious per­secution in England and estab­lished a new home in Holland. Despite the warm welcome ex­tended by the Dutch, as con­trasted with the persecutions they had endured in England, their love for their homeland impelled them to seek English soil on which to raise their children, English soil on which they would be free to worship God in their own way.

Finally, the Pilgrims landed, as we all know, on Plymouth Rock in the middle of December 1620, and on Christmas Day, in the words of Governor William Bradford,¹ they "begane to erecte ye first house for commone use to receive them and their goods."

So was established the first English colony in New England.

Three years later, when the plentiful harvest of 1623 had been gathered in, the Pilgrims "sett aparte a day of thanksgiving
."
Governor Bradford adds, "Any generall wante or famine hath not been amongst them since to this day."²

Three Kernels of Corn

But what of the intervening years? After all, there were har­vests gathered in 1621 and 1622.

I know of one family, descended from the Pilgrims, who place be­side each plate at their bounteous table on Thanksgiving Day a little paper cup containing just three kernels of corn, as a constant re­minder of the all too frequent days during these first years when three kernels of corn represented the daily food ration of their Pil­grim forebears.

Within three months of their landing on Plymouth Rock, "of one hundred and odd persons, scarce fifty remained. And of these in ye time of most distres, ther was but six or seven sound persons, who, to their great comendations be it spoken, spared no pains, night nor day, but with abundance of toyle and hazard of their own health,… did all ye homly and necessarie offices which dainty and quesie stomaks cannot endure to hear named; and all this willingly and cherfully…, shew­ing herein their true love unto their f reinds and bretheren. A rare example and worthy to be remembered."

One half of the crew of the Mayflower, including "many of their officers and lustyest men, as ye boatson, gunner, three quarter­maisters, the cooke, and others," also perished before the little ves­sel set sail on her return voyage to England in April 1621.

In the following excerpt from his History, Governor Bradford vividly describes the lot of the Pilgrims during these early years. Writing about conditions in the spring of 1623, after their corn had been planted, he says:

"All ther victails were spente, and they were only to rest on Gods providence; at night not many times knowing when to have a bitt of any thing ye next day. And so, as one well observed, had need to pray that God would give them their dayly brade, above all people in ye world….; which makes me remember what Peter Martire writs (in magnifying ye Spaniards) in his 5. Decade, page 208. ‘They’ (saith he) ‘led a miser­able life for 5. days togeather, with ye parched graine of maize only, and that not to saturitie’; and then concluds, ‘that shuch pains, shuch labours, and shuch hunger, he thought none living which is not a Spaniard could have en­dured.’

"But alass these [the Pilgrims], when they had maize (yt is, Indean come) they thought it as good as a feast, and wanted not only for 5. days togeather, but some time 2. or 3. months togeather, and neither had bread nor any kind of come.

"Yet let me hear make use of his [Peter Martire's] conclusion, which in some sorte may be ap­plied to this people: ‘That with their miseries they opened a way to these new-lands; and after these stormes, with what ease other men came to inhabite in them, in respecte of ye calamities these men suffered; so as they seeme to goe to a bride feaste wher all things are provided for them.’"

Yet, following the harvest gath­ered in in the fall of that same year, 1623, and for all the years that followed, Governor Bradford tells us, "Any generall wante or famine hath not been amongst them since to this day."

Three years of near starvation—and then decades of abundance. Was this a miracle?

Or is there a rational explana­tion for this sudden change in the fortunes of our Pilgrim fore­fathers?

So They Tried Freedom

Describing events that took place in the spring of 1623, Gov­ernor Bradford answers our ques­tions, in eloquent words that should be engraved on the hearts and minds of all Americans:

"All this whille no supply was heard of, neither knew they when they might expecte any. So they begane to thinke how they might raise as much corne as they could, and obtaine a beter crope then they had done, that they might not still thus languish in miserie. At length, after much debate of things, the Govr (with ye advise of ye cheefest amongest them) gave way that they should set come every man for his owne per­ticuler, and in that regard trust to themselves…. And so as­signed to every family a parcell of land, according to the proportion of their number for that end, only for present use (but made no devission for inheritance) and ranged all boys and youth under some familie. This had very good success; for it made all hands very industrious, so as much more corne was planted then other waise would have bene by any means ye Govr or any other could use, and saved him a great deall of trouble, and gave farr better contente. The women now wente willingly into ye feild, and tooke their little-ons with them to set corne, which before would aledg weaknes, and inabilitie; whom to have compelled would have bene thought great tiranie and oppres­sion.

"The experience that was had in this comone course and condi­tion, tried sundrie years, and that amongst godly and sober men, may well evince the vanitie of that conceite of Platos and other an­cients;—that ye taking away of propertie, and bringing into a comone wealth, would make them happy and florishing; as if they were wiser then God. For this comunitie (so farr as it was) was found to breed much confusion and discontent, and retard much imploymet that would have been to their benefite and comforte. For ye yong-men that were most able and fitte for labour and service did repine that they shouldspend their time and streingth to worke for other mens wives and children, with out any recompence. The strong, or man of parts, had no more in devission of victails and cloaths, then he that was weake and not able to do a quarter ye other could; this was thought injuestice. The aged and graver men to be ranked and equalised in labours, and victails, cloaths, &c., with ye meaner and yonger sorte, thought it some indignite and dis­respect unto them. And for mens wives to be commanded to doe servise for other men, as dresing their meate, washing their cloaths, &c., they deemd it a kind of slav­erie, neither could many husbands well brokke it. Upon ye poynte all being to have alike, and all to doe alike, they thought them selves in ye like condition, and one as good as another; and so, if it did not cut of those relations that God hath set amongest men, yet it did at least much diminish and take of ye mutuall respects that should be preserved amongest them. And would have bene worse if they had been men of another condi­tion.

"Let none objecte this is men’s corruption, and nothing to ye corse it selfe. I answer, seeing all men have this corruption in them, God in his wisdome saw another course fiter for them."

This new policy of allowing each to "plant for his owne perticuler" produced such a harvest that fall that Governor Bradford was able to write:

"By this time harvest was come, and in stead of famine, now God gave them plentie, and ye face of things was changed, to ye rejoy­sing of ye harts of many, for which they blessed God. And ye effect of their particuler planting was well seene, for all had, one way and other, pretty well to bring ye year aboute, and some of ye abler sorte and more industrious had to spare, and sell to others, so as any gen­erall wante or famine hath not been amongst them since to this day."
The Importance of Property Rights

Our first Thanksgiving should, therefore, be interpreted as an ex­pression of gratitude to God, not so much for the great harvest it­self, as for granting the grateful Pilgrims the perception to grasp and apply the great universal prin­ciple that produced that great har­vest: Each individual is entitled to the fruits of his own labor. Prop­erty rights are, therefore, insepa­rable from human rights.

If man abides by this law, he will reap abundance; if he violates this law, suffering, starvation, and death will follow, as night the day.

This is the essential meaning of the two great Commandments, "Thou shalt not covet" and "Thou shalt not steal."

When it came time for the spring planting in the following year, 1624, the Pilgrims went one step further. In Governor Brad­ford’s words:

"I must speak of their planting this year; they having found ye benefite of their last years harvest, and setting corne for their par­ticuler, having therby with a great deale of patience overcome hunger and famine. That they might encrease their tillage to bet­ter advantage, they made suite to the Govr to have some portion of land given them for continuance, and not by yearly lotte, for by that means, that which ye more in­dustrious had brought into good culture (by much pains) one year, came to leave it ye nexte, and often another might injoye it; so as the dressing of their lands were the more sleighted over, and to lese profite. Which being well considered, their request was granted. And to every person was given only one acrre of land, to them and theirs, as nere ye towne as might be, and they had no more till ye seven years were expired."

Describing the results of the application of this policy in the year 1626, Governor Bradford tells us:
"It pleased ye Lord to give ye plantation peace and health and contented minds, and so to blese their labours, as they had come sufficient (and some to spare to others) with other foode; neither ever had they any supply of foode but what they first brought with them. After harvest this year, they sende out a boats load of corne 40. or 50. leagues to ye eastward, up a river called Kenibeck     God preserved them, and gave them good success, for they brought home 700 ti. of beaver, besids some other furrs, having little or nothing els but this corne, which them selves had raised out of ye earth."
The discovery and application of this concept of individual prop­erty rights, derived from the Crea­tor, was the real "seminal princi­ple" so eloquently phrased by the great English statesman and ora­tor, Edmund Burke. As it devel­oped from this tiny seed into a "formed body," it became the cor­nerstone of our Declaration of In­dependence and of our Constitu­tion, and produced the extraordi­nary explosion of individual hu­man energy that took place in nineteenth century America.

Famine Persisted in England

In England, meanwhile, farm­ing "in common" continued to be the general practice for another hundred years. Not until the sec­ond decade of the seventeen hun­dreds did "setting crops for their particuler" begin slowly to be ac­cepted in England—and decades were to pass before the new prac­tice became sufficiently wide­spread to provide an adequate food supply for the population.
As recently as 1844, an English writer thus describes the condi­tions which then existed:

"Full one third of our popula­tion [in the United Kingdom] sub­sist entirely, or rather starve, upon potatoes alone, another third have, in addition to this edible, oaten or inferior wheaten bread, with one or two meals of fat pork, or the refuse of the shambles [slaughterhouses], per week; while a considerable majority of the re­maining third seldom are able to procure an ample daily supply of good butcher’s meat or obtain the luxury of poultry from year to year.
"On the continent of Europe, population is still in a worse con­dition…."³º

No country was ever more "underdeveloped" than the wilderness of New England on which our Pil­grim forebears set foot. The ma­jority of those who landed from the Mayflower in December 1620 perished prior to that first great harvest of 1623. For two years they followed the age-old custom prevalent in England of "farming in common"—and they starved.

Through suffering, starvation, and hardship, they learned and ap­plied the fundamentals of freedom—and, instead of starvation, they grew crops sufficient not only for their own needs, but to spare, en­abling them to exchange their sur­plus with the Indians for beaver and other "furrs."

If Pilgrims Had Had "Foreign Aid"?

But suppose some foreign coun­try, or their mother country, had taken pity on them in their misery and sent them ample food supplies during those first terrible years; this would have been impossible, for England herself was virtually on a starvation diet, as were most of the countries on the continent of Europe. But suppose it had been possible; suppose they had received such "foreign aid"?

Would not the Pilgrims have continued to "farm in common"? Would they not have continued to follow the practice that more than two centuries later was to become a basic tenet of Marxian philoso­phy, "From each according to his ability, to each according to his need"?

Would the Pilgrims ever have learned and applied the concepts of the dignity of the individual and the sanctity of property—the idea that each individual is en­titled to the fruits of his own labor—the Law of Individual Freedom and Individual Respon­sibility?

Freedom for the individual, with recognition and respect for the right of each individual to his property, is essential to the release of individual human energy, which alone can raise the standard of liv­ing of any people.

It is for this reason that aid sent to support socialist govern­ments (which deny the right to private property) and aid sent to help underdeveloped peoples that have not yet learned the lessons taught to the Pilgrims by hard experience—it is for this reason that such "aid" may be likened to attempting to fill a bathtub with­out first putting the stopper in.4

Would not America be render­ing a greater service to these peo­ples by teaching them, through precept and example, the real meaning of our first Thanksgiving—and by pointing out to them the truth and applicability of the great ideals of individual freedom and individual responsibility under God?
The young American nation grew and prospered because for more than a century and a quarter the sanctity of property rights was recognized as being indispen­sable to human rights; because her people were free to "plant for their own particuler"; because the resultant "free market economy" invited domestic and foreign capi­tal seeking a profit.

What of Today?

Is America, today, still abiding by these principles?

Not only is the answer "No!" but there is evidence on every hand that we are re-enacting the very mistakes our Pilgrim Fath­ers made during their first years of "farming in common," mis­takes which produced nought but disaster, re-enacting in the New World the age-old miseries of con­stant hunger and starvation that continued to plague the Old World for some two centuries to come. We are not as yet suffering the Pilgrims’ privation, but we are re­verting to arbitrary communaliza­tion on an enormous scale, reset­ting the same old-world stage.

Our present tax structure is a case in point. Its aim is not to fi­nance the costs of a strictly limited government, but rather to reform society, to remold our lives, and to redistribute our wealth ac­cording to the ideas of economic and social planners dedicated to the socialization, the communiza­tion, of our once free America.

As a consequence, we are now supporting vast armies of govern­ment bureaucrats who swarm over the land—and over much of the world—devouring our substance like a plague of locusts. Today, one in every six employed Americans is on a government payroll.

As a consequence, we are com­pelled to contribute from the fruits of our labor billions of dol­lars for subsidies and handouts granted by politicians in their endless search for votes and per­sonal power.
As a consequence, we have gov­ernment operating vast businesses—already representing 20 per cent of the industrial capacity of the USA—businesses that ride the backs of the American people as interest free, rent free, cost free, and tax free princes of privilege, in competition with tax-paying en­terprises.

In our program of aid to so­cialist governments and to under­developed nationalities and peo­ples that have not yet learned to apply the great universal truths tested and proved by our Pilgrim forebears, are we not seeking to fill the bathtub without first see­ing to it that the stopper is in place—in a fruitless attempt to buy loyal allies with money? Re­ferring to our sixty billion dollar Foreign Aid since World War II, on January 27, 1957, Hon. Spruille Braden said: "It is a sum equal to the assessed valuation of all real and other property in our seventeen biggest cities!"

Each time I accept a govern­ment handout, for any reason whatsoever, I am stealing from the only Treasure House any peo­ple has—the surplus wealth cre­ated by the productive energies of millions of individual men and women, each seeking a better life for himself and for his children. Each time I produce less, in my work, than enough to earn a profit for my employer, I am stealing from someone else—and contribu­ting toward creating unemploy­ment for others and a higher cost of living for all.
This Thanksgiving Day, let us, each in his own way, humbly ask forgiveness for the degree to which we have all violated the great "seminal principle," either directly, or through tolerating its violation by others.

Then, this Thanksgiving Day, let us highly resolve to dedicate our lives, as individuals, to "plant­ing for our own particuler," rather than living as parasites on the productive energy of others; let us dedicate our lives to a re­newed application of the ideal of individual freedom and individual responsibility, which our Pilgrim forebears learned at such sacrifice, and which they passed down to us as our most precious heritage.

Foot Notes

1This and subsequent quotations are taken from Bradford’s History "of Pli­moth Plantation" from the original manu­script. Printed under the direction of the Secretary of the Commonwealth by order of the General Court. Boston: Wright & Potter Printing Company, State Printers. 1898.
2Presumably 1647, the last year covered in Bradford’s History.
3Treatise on Artificial Incubation" by Mr. W. Bucknell, London: p. 36, quoted in Dictionary of the Farm by Mr. W. L. Rham (Charles Knight and Co., 1844), pp. 418-419. I am indebted to my uncle, the late Col. E. Parmalee Prentice, for the vast amount of research he carried out in gathering material such as this for his remarkable book, Hunger and History (Caldwell, Idaho: Caxton Printers, Ltd., 1951), without which this part of the article could not have been written.
4The distinction between free market services to individuals and intergovern­mental foreign aid may be clarified by this statement by Joseph Stalin in Marx­ism and the National and Colonial Ques­tion (New York: Four Continent Book Corporation, 1940), pages 115 and 116:—"It is essential that the advanced coun­tries should render aid—real and pro­longed aid—to the backward nationalities in their cultural and economic development. Otherwise it will be impossible to bring about the peaceful co-existence of the various nations and peoples within a single economic system that is so essen­tial for the final triumph of Socialism."
Sartell Prentice Jr.
This article was originally published on FEE.org. Read the original article.


Sunday, November 27, 2016

Thanksgiving Was a Triumph of Capitalism over Collectivism

Thanksgiving Was a Triumph of Capitalism over Collectivism

This time of the year, whether in good economic times or bad, is when we gather with our family and friends and enjoy a Thanksgiving meal together. It marks a remembrance of those early Pilgrim Fathers who crossed the uncharted ocean from Europe to make a new start in Plymouth,
Massachusetts. What is less appreciated is that Thanksgiving is also a celebration of the birth of free enterprise in America.

The English Puritans, who left Great Britain and sailed across the Atlantic on the Mayflower in 1620, were not only escaping from religious persecution in their homeland. They also wanted to turn their backs on what they viewed as the materialistic and greedy corruption of the Old World.
Two years of communism in practice had left alive only a fraction of the original number of the Plymouth colonists.

In the New World, they wanted to erect a New Jerusalem that would not only be religiously devout, but be built on a new foundation of communal sharing and social altruism. Their goal was the communism of Plato’s Republic, in which all would work and share in common, knowing neither private property nor self-interested acquisitiveness.

What resulted is recorded in the journal of Governor William Bradford, the head of the colony. The colonists collectively cleared and worked land, but they brought forth neither the bountiful harvest they hoped for, nor did it create a spirit of shared and cheerful brotherhood.

The less industrious members of the colony came late to their work in the fields, and were slow and easy in their labors. Knowing that they and their families were to receive an equal share of whatever the group produced, they saw little reason to be more diligent their efforts. The harder working among the colonists became resentful that their efforts would be redistributed to the more malingering members of the colony. Soon they, too, were coming late to work and were less energetic in the fields.

As Governor Bradford explained in his old English (though with the spelling modernized):
For the young men that were able and fit for labor and service did repine that they should spend their time and strength to work for other men’s wives and children, without recompense. The strong, or men of parts, had no more division of food, clothes, etc. then he that was weak and not able to do a quarter the other could; this was thought injustice. The aged and graver men to be ranked and equalized in labor, and food, clothes, etc. with the meaner and younger sort, thought it some indignant and disrespect unto them. And for men’s wives to be commanded to do service for other men, as dressing their meat, washing their clothes, etc. they deemed it a kind of slavery, neither could their husbands brook it.
Because of the disincentives and resentments that spread among the population, crops were sparse and the rationed equal shares from the collective harvest were not enough to ward off starvation and death. Two years of communism in practice had left alive only a fraction of the original number of the Plymouth colonists.

Realizing that another season like those that had just passed would mean the extinction of the entire community, the elders of the colony decided to try something radically different: the introduction of private property rights and the right of the individual families to keep the fruits of their own labor.
As Governor Bradford put it:
And so assigned to every family a parcel of land, according to the proportion of their number for that end . . .This had a very good success; for it made all hands very industrious, so as much more corn was planted than otherwise would have been by any means the Governor or any other could use, and saved him a great deal of trouble, and gave far better content. The women now went willingly into the field, and took their little-ones with them to set corn, which before would alledge weakness, and inability; whom to have compelled would have been thought great tyranny and oppression.
The Plymouth Colony experienced a great bounty of food. Private ownership meant that there was now a close link between work and reward. Industry became the order of the day as the men and women in each family went to the fields on their separate private farms. When the harvest time came, not only did many families produce enough for their own needs, but they had surpluses that they could freely exchange with their neighbors for mutual benefit and improvement.
In Governor Bradford’s words:
By this time harvest was come, and instead of famine, now God gave them plenty, and the face of things was changed, to the rejoicing of the hearts of many, for which they blessed God. And the effect of their planting was well seen, for all had, one way or other, pretty well to bring the year about, and some of the abler sort and more industrious had to spare, and sell to others, so as any general want or famine hath not been amongst them since to this day.
Hard experience had taught the Plymouth colonists the fallacy and error in the ideas of that since the time of the ancient Greeks had promised paradise through collectivism rather than individualism. As Governor Bradford expressed it:
The experience that was had in this common course and condition, tried sundry years, and that amongst the Godly and sober men, may well convince of the vanity and conceit of Plato’s and other ancients; -- that the taking away of property, and bringing into a common wealth, would make them happy and flourishing; as if they were wiser than God. For this community (so far as it was) was found to breed confusion and discontent, and retard much employment that would have been to their benefit and comfort.
Was this realization that communism was incompatible with human nature and the prosperity of humanity to be despaired or be a cause for guilt? Not in Governor Bradford’s eyes. It was simply a matter of accepting that altruism and collectivism were inconsistent with the nature of man, and that human institutions should reflect the reality of man’s nature if he is to prosper. Said Governor Bradford:
Let none object this is man’s corruption, and nothing to the curse itself. I answer, seeing all men have this corruption in them, God in his wisdom saw another course fitter for them.
The desire to “spread the wealth” and for government to plan and regulate people’s lives is as old as the utopian fantasy in Plato’s Republic. The Pilgrim Fathers tried and soon realized its bankruptcy and failure as a way for men to live together in society.

Let us remember that what we are really celebrating is the birth of free men and free enterprise in that New World of America.

They, instead, accepted man as he is: hardworking, productive, and innovative when allowed the liberty to follow his own interests in improving his own circumstances and those of his family. And even more, out of his industry result the quantities of useful goods that enable men to trade to their mutual benefit.

In the wilderness of the New World, the Plymouth Pilgrims had progressed from the false dream of communism to the sound realism of capitalism. At a time of economic uncertainty, it is worthwhile recalling this beginning of the American experiment and experience with freedom.

This is the lesson of the First Thanksgiving. This year, when we sit around our dining table with our family and friends, let us also remember that what we are really celebrating is the birth of free men and free enterprise in that New World of America.

The real meaning of Thanksgiving, in other words, is the triumph of capitalism over the failure of collectivism in all its forms.
Richard M. Ebeling
Richard M. Ebeling
Richard M. Ebeling is BB&T Distinguished Professor of Ethics and Free Enterprise Leadership at The Citadel in Charleston, South Carolina. He was president of the Foundation for Economic Education (FEE) from 2003 to 2008.
This article was originally published on FEE.org. Read the original article.

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

What Socialism Actually Looks Like by T. Hodgson 1906


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THE WORKHOUSE THE MOST PERFECT EXAMPLE OF SOCIALISM by T. Hodgson, Chaplain at Shoreditch Workhouse 1906

What has socialism to say for itself, so far as present examples of its operations and effects are concerned? The postal department is usually cited as the example of what a socialistic State would be like. It is, say the advocates of socialism, the most successful department of State, and has conferred many benefits upon the community. But the postal department is, as compared with other departments, a very simple department to work; and a system like this would not necessarily succeed if applied to the whole complex relations of life. It is always easy to manage simple bodies; it is when you come to deal with complex organisms that you are confronted with difficulties. But even this department, simple as it is, is not perfect; neither are those who live and work under it entirely contented. They have their grievances, like other folks, and they do not appear to be any better provided for than workers in other spheres of life. Nay, it is distinctly certain that they are not so well provided for as many other workers are; and, if proof be needed of this, it will be found in the fact that postmen find it necessary to augment their State income by engaging, as far as they can, in other branches of work, and so helping to complicate and intensify the labour problem. The postal system, indeed, presents some features of what a socialistic State would be like, such as low wages, a uniform dress, a monotonous routine, and a strict and severe supervision.


But the postal department is not the most perfect example that we have of what a socialistic State would be like. If you want to see a real example of what socialism absolute would be, you must look to the workhouse [in the UK it is a public institution in which the destitute of a parish received board and lodging in return for work]. In the workhouse you may find a socialistic State in miniature. In the workhouse you will see all the ghastly features of socialism displayed, and observe the effects of a system which is held up to working men and others as the most perfect means of salvation from our social ills, and as the best possible paradise of an intelligent and liberty-loving people. Here you may learn what absolute State control means; what a monotonous routine can do; and how possible it is for one supreme hand to recognise the merits, rights, and deserts of either single individuals or groups of them. Under the Poor Laws there is no recognition of the essence of law, as set forth in the words, "The law was made for evildoers, and for the praise of them that do well." All come under the same stern and unbending rule. Neither respectability, desert, skill, nor payment receives the slightest recognition. The reward of labour, so far as it is performed, is paid in the shape of food—good or bad, as the case may be—and clothes of a particular and stereotyped kind. Here liberty is entirely lost; everything is by permission or command. The State, in fact, determines everything, and exacts an implicit obedience from all alike. And so life is reduced to a dull, dead, dreary monotony—a paralysing and degrading routine.

Perhaps you will say, "Reform the system." Our reply is, Reform as you like, you cannot permanently improve it. You can only pass it from one kind of monotony to another. You may prescribe a better diet, dress, and kind of work; but the absoluteness of the State will remain, and the influence of these will be the same, howsoever they may be expressed. The most that can be done is to supply the spirit with a different body, and it is just the spirit that colours and determines everything. The only effectual way of dealing with our workhouses is by reforming them off the face of the earth. I sincerely hope that an enterprising, humane, and intelligent people will soon effect this reform, for workhouses are a standing disgrace to civilisation, a menace to, and a degradation of, human nature. They are costly and cruel, expensive and useless, a temptation and a shame. They are cruel to the respectable and worthy poor; they are useless as regards the lazy and the bad; and they are a temptation to capital, to labour, to all alike, to neglect their reasonable duty, and to forego the exercise of some of their best and noblest faculties. Brother Englishmen, let us sweep them away! Let us demand that our respectable and worthy fellow-men, who have reasonably and honestly done their work and served the community faithfully, shall have better treatment, when their health and strength have failed them, than imprisonment by the State at the cost and with the consent of their toiling brethren. And for the rest, those who do not come under the foregoing head, we shall know how to provide some fitting reward.

I have said very little about the influence which this example wields over those who are not inmates. But from experience and observation I am in a position to tell you that it is most disastrous. It spoils, by its monotony and dreariness, the temper, and nature, and disposition of all those who come under it. It is only by the most desperate efforts that you can counteract it—only, at times, by actually doing something desperate that you can keep yourself above the dull level, and overcome what, for convenience sake, I will call the workhouse law of gravitation.

And this is our present most representative example of what socialism would be. If I am right, or even if I am only partially right, socialism is not desirable. It will bring no relief to the worker, it will not increase wages, it will not bring in the golden age; but it will destroy liberty, it will introduce monotony, it will prevent individual and national progression, it will take away all incentives to ennoblement of character; it will supersede our family life, which is our best and highest source of joy; it will curtail our pleasures, complicate and make impossible our relations with surrounding nations; it will place us all under an absolute State, and all this implies a tyranny.
               

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Democracy is Communism, by Ernest Belfort Bax 1912


Democracy is Communism, by Ernest Belfort Bax (Socialist) 1912

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The term Socialism is usually supposed to date from Robert Owen. It is doubtful, however, whether Owen's claim to having invented the word is altogether sustainable. Pierre Leroux, Louis Reybaud, and others have similar claims to have been its originators. The truth would seem to be that it came into being about the same time in more than one quarter. It soon began to be applied indifferently to the theories of the three great Utopian systems which arose during the early part of the nineteenth century, namely, those of Owen, Fourier, and Saint Simon. Now these three systems had this in common, they proposed to revolutionise human life in its various aspects, primarily its economic basis, the mode under which production and distribution of its wealth takes place. This economic reconstruction was regarded as a lever for revolutionary changes in other departments of human life, notably in marriage and the family relation, and in the mental and moral attitude of man towards society and the universe. As will be seen, the word arose at a time when the new capitalist class, based upon the machine industry, was rising to power. It thus connoted on its negative side the antithesis to the individualism —"each for himself and the devil take the hindmost" — which was the expression of the new capitalist view of social life.

It should be remarked that the systems to which the term Socialism was originally applied, one and all included revolutionary changes in the relations of the sexes and in religious belief, in addition to economic reconstruction, as part and parcel of their programme. In 1848, with the national workshops scheme of Louis Blanc, the term Socialism first came within the sphere of practical politics. The principle of co-operative production at the basis of all the Utopian systems to which the name of Socialism had been hitherto applied, was now about to enter the arena, as it seemed, of actual social and political life. (Of course, as every man knows, who cares to know at the present day, Louis Blanc's scheme, defective as it was, never had a chance on this occasion. But this has nothing to do with our present subject.)

From the revolution of 1848 may possibly be dated the tendency to narrow down the definition of Socialism to an exclusively economic issue. In 1847, less than a year before the outbreak of the great revolutionary movement, Marx and Engels drew up a document which may be regarded as the literary inauguration of the Modern Socialist Movement, to wit, the celebrated Communist Manifesto. Under the name of Communism—the word Socialism having by that time become somewhat usé, owing to its association not only with the three great Utopian systems of the beginning of the century, but with inferior imitations, and crude theories emanating from them—the two protagonists of the modern movement drew up a statement of the scientific and historical conditions of which the co-operative commonwealth, which constituted the essential ideal of what had hitherto gone under the name of Socialism, would be the issue. The term "Communism" adopted throughout the manifesto soon fell into disuse and became supplanted by the phrase Social Democracy, and by the old word Socialism, which seems destined to triumph finally over all competitors. In the Communist Manifesto, as is well known, the point of view of historic evolution of the class-struggle under the paramountcy of the economic side of human affairs, was expounded for the first time in a succinct and definite form. That democracy was the essential condition of Communism (Socialism) was emphatically insisted upon, and that the transformation of the Civilisation of to-day into the Socialism of to-morrow must be brought about through a political revolution involving a change in the possessors of power, was made clear. Henceforward the Socialist movement in the modern sense began slowly to shape itself. We come now to the main question...namely, as to the definitions of Socialism in its modern acceptation....The idea of democracy has always formed an essential element in the conception of Socialism as such.

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Thursday, November 17, 2016

From Utopia to Animal Farm

From Utopia to Animal Farm

In a society such as ours … is appears crazy at first to want revolution. For we have whatever we want. But the aim here is to transform the will itself so that people no longer want what they now want… .The question with which we had to deal … amounts to the question of whether … in order to set free these needs, a dictatorship appears necessary…
–Herbert Marcuse, “The End of Utopia” (1967)

All ‘favourable’ Utopias seem to be alike in postulating perfection while being unable to suggest happiness ... The inhabitants of various [Utopias] are chiefly concerned with avoiding fuss. They live uneventful, subdued, ‘reasonable’ lives, free not only from quarrels, disorder or insecurity of any kind, but also from passion … Nearly all creators of Utopia have resembled the man who has toothache, and therefore thinks happiness consists in not having toothache. They wanted to produce a perfect society by an endless continuation of something that had only been valuable because it was temporary. The wiser course would be to say that there are certain lines along which humanity must move, the grand strategy is mapped out, but detailed prophecy is not our business. Whoever tries to imagine perfection simply reveals his own emptiness.
–George Orwell, “Why Socialists Don’t Believe in Fun” (1943)
If another group tie takes the place of the religious one – and the socialistic tie seems to be succeeding in doing so – then there will be the same intolerance towards outsiders as in the age of the Wars of Religion.
–Sigmund Freud, “Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego” (1921).
The actual distribution of income or wealth has often been compared with a hypothetical ideal (Utopia), rather than actual experience in any country at any time.

Many Westerners once believed incomes were nearly equal in the former Soviet Union, for example, but we now know that substantial privileges did exist for a select few – based on political power rather than economic contribution. Even aside from bribery and corruption, special access to health care, education, housing and special shops was often granted to the Communist Party hierarchy and the bureaucratic elite. Urban people in general were subsidized at the expense of rural areas.
By the late 70s, only a handful of Western leftists continued to defend such dictatorships as Stalin’s Soviet Union, Mao’s China, Castro’s Cuba, or North Korea’s Kim Jong-il/Kim Jong-un feudal dynasty.

In recent years, the left’s previous romanticism of communism has sometimes been briefly salvaged by relabeling similar authoritarian regimes as “socialist” (Chavez in Venezuela), which sounds nicer, but isn’t. Others have switched to romanticizing some golden age of the past. In the US, for example, the Golden Age of greater equality was said to have occurred between 1930 and 1973. Yet the relatively egalitarian (“fair”?) suffering of 1930-39 is difficult to romanticize, for obvious reasons, as is the post-1973 stagflationary collapse of Nixon’s authoritarian price controls.

Political or Economic Criteria?
Vague allusions to social justice are often employed to suggest that a larger fraction of the economy’s benefits (food, housing, health care, etc.) could and should be distributed by government rather than by markets. In theory, we could turn over all of our income to democratically elected officials and let them decide who gets what. But distribution on the basis of political criteria is not necessarily fairer than distribution on the basis of economic criteria. Political markets also tend toward one-size-fits-all solutions, with less variety and innovation than in economic markets.

Those currently expecting politicians to make various goods or services “affordable” or “free” are really just asking government officials to force someone else to pay. But artificially low prices (e.g., for colleges or physicians) inflate demand and discourage supply, requiring some bureaucrat to use nonprice rationing such as waiting lists, lotteries or preferential treatment for those with the most political clout.

The only alternative to a free market is a politically rigged market, and that invariably turns out to be neither fair nor pleasant.
The only way to ban markets is to beat them down with force. And since markets are abstractions, the force is used against people. So the alternative to a market-oriented society in which everyone is required to respect everyone else’s rights is a society in which those in power use force on whomever they can get away with using it on.”
–David R. Henderson, The Concise Encyclopedia of Economics (1997)
This first appeared at Cato.
Alan Reynolds
Alan Reynolds
Alan Reynolds is one of the original supply-side economists. He is Senior Fellow at the Cato Institute and was formerly Director of Economic Research at the Hudson Institute.
This article was originally published on FEE.org. Read the original article.

Monday, November 14, 2016

Pictures of the Socialistic Future

Pictures of the Socialistic Future

There was a school of German liberals in the nineteenth century, and this is a masterpiece to emerge from that school. Eugene Richter saw what socialism would mean, and he traced it all out in a marvelous novel that is so prescient that it’s spooky. I had to close the book several times to get over the chills. One reason it is so chilling is that it is written from the point of view of a defender of socialism. To see how the narrator comes to terms with the poverty, the horror, the death—it is all just a bit too realistic a forecast of twentieth-century intellectual life.

I can’t recommend this book too highly. This book is a remarkable discovery, as fresh today as when it was first translated in 1893. It is a novel of life under socialism by Eugene Richter, a German liberal of the nineteenth century.

Prophetic is not quite the word for this book. Richter saw with chilling clarity what would happen under socialistic control. The economy would be smashed. Families would be destroyed. The population would grow poorer by the day. The state would be unleashed to crush political dissent and lock everyone into a national prison. None of the ideals would be achieved.

The novel’s narrative voice, however, is blinded by ideological loyalty to the cause. As he describes the calamity, he justifies it all in the name of progress, equality, and fairness to all. The reader, then, experiences the horrors of the events and then also the horrors of the intellectual twists and turns that some people will undertake to keep the disaster happening as long as possible.

To remember that this was written before any country actually experienced the total state is astonishing, page by page. The tone of the narrative is chillingly light and detached. Meanwhile, the events taking place make the blood run cold. The novel not only fulfills Mises’s own predictions of life under socialism; it anticipates them long before any country embraced socialism as a system.
This is the book that shouts out, as clearly as any ever written: we were warned!

It is also the longest example of writing from the great generation of German liberals, and it is surely one of the best, literary proof to English readers that stunning prescience existed in those days.
Pictures of a Socialistic Future even succeeds as a novel. It is gripping to read, even deeply painful in many places. One can imagine that this work is capable of shaking the faith of even the most diehard socialist.

Bryan Caplan of George Mason University writes the new introduction to the book. “Only the Richterian theory can readily explain why the most devoted surviving child of German socialism grew up to be the prison-state of East Germany: Self-righteous brutality was the purists’ plan all along. Decades before the socialists gained power, Eugene Richter saw the writing on the wall. The great tragedy of the twentieth century is that the world had to learn about totalitarian socialism from bitter experience, instead of Richter’s inspired novel. Many failed to see the truth until the Berlin Wall went up. By then, alas, it was too late.”

- Jeffrey Tucker
Eugen Richter
Eugen Richter
Eugen Richter (July 30, 1838 in Düsseldorf – March 10, 1906 in Lichterfelde, Berlin) was a German politician and journalist in Imperial Germany. He was one of the leading advocates of liberalism in the Prussian Diet and the German Reichstag.

Friday, November 11, 2016

Why Does Mike Rowe Love This Economics Book?

Why Does Mike Rowe Love This Economics Book?

They say that authors are not the best judges of their greatest work. Only the wisdom of time can determine that. This seems especially true of Henry Hazlitt. Seventy years after he wrote Economics in One Lesson, the book is still going strong. Most recently, it was recommended by Mike Rowe:
Spend a few hours every week studying American history, human nature, and economic theory. Start with “Economics in One Lesson.” Then try Keynes. Then Hayek. Then Marx. Then Hegel. Develop a worldview that you can articulate as well as defend. Test your theory with people who disagree with you. Debate. Argue. Adjust your philosophy as necessary. Then, when the next election comes around, cast a vote for the candidate whose worldview seems most in line with your own.
Or, don’t. None of the freedoms spelled out in our Constitution were put there so people could cast uninformed ballots out of some misplaced sense of civic duty brought on by a celebrity guilt-trip. The right to assemble, to protest, to speak freely – these rights were included to help assure that the best ideas and the best candidates would emerge from the most transparent process possible.
Just last week, I heard Mike speak. He loves the real world – and I can understand his conviction of the sheer fakeness of the world imagined by politicians. Hazlitt shared that same view, and this comes through in the text.

This brings to mind one of the special moments in my life. Before his death in 1993, I sat in the back of a limousine on the way to dinner with Henry Hazlitt and discussed the book. I asked him if he felt pride that his book was still a best seller. He said that he did not, since he didn’t think it was very good. A book he felt genuinely proud of was Foundations of Morality – probably one of his least known works.

Pushed Out by the New York Times
Before starting his next job, Hazlitt decided to take a few weeks to write a primer on basic economics. His attitude is understandable when you consider the context in which Lesson was written. For twelve years, he had been writing daily editorials, mostly unsigned, for the New York Times. He was also writing book reviews under his own name for the Sunday paper. He was aware of the ideological conflicts at the paper. There were many partisans for the New Deal. He was not among them. But his status was protected there because of the desire for diversity of opinion.

But as the war was ending, the paper had to make a choice. Powerful elites had gathered to cobble together a post-war planning apparatus that included a world bank and a new system of monetary management. It was the new dollar standard – one not entirely divorced from gold, but the US dollar would be the only currency tied to gold. The rest of the developed world would tie their currencies to the dollar.

Hazlitt knew that it couldn’t work. The US was not in a position to determine the fiscal policies of other nations. They would not feel the discipline that gold would impose and would be incentivized to spend freely without facing downward currency pressure. This would ultimately cause gold outflows from the US as the demand for gold would rise, even as its dollar price was fixed. This would prompt unsustainable gold outflows. The imbalances would cry out for correction and the whole system would collapse.

Fired (Sort of)

Hazlitt explained this day after day. But as time went on, it became ever more clear that the Bretton Woods system was a foregone conclusion. The paper would have to adjust. The editor brought Hazlitt in and told him to stop editorializing against it. Hazlitt complied but also began to tidy his desk to prepare his resignation. He left in 1946.

His next job was writing for Newsweek, while also helping Leonard Read get the newly formed Foundation for Economic Education going. He had also become good friends with Ludwig von Mises, and eagerly anticipated serving as his literary champion.

It is doing for us in 2016 what it did for people in 1946: teaching the fundamental truths.But before starting his new job, Hazlitt decided to take a few weeks to write a primer on basic economics. After all, it was what the world needed now. He wrote it in a white heat, putting on paper all the apparatus he carried in his head. He avoided hard theory but jumped straight to the large lesson: economics is about the effects of policies on all groups over the long run, not isolated groups in the short run. He applied it as broadly as possible to all existing political and economic controversies.

Why does a book become a wild best seller? The title. The timing. The clarity of content. The benefit it provides to the reader. There are many reasons, and, for whatever reason, it all came together for Hazlitt in this one book. It would secure his reputation. To his private dismay, it would be the text that would define his legacy.

Since Rowe recommended it, FEE.org has been blowing up with hits and downloads of the book. Good. It is doing for us in 2016 what it did for people in 1946: teaching the fundamental truths. And given the way things are going in this election, which has provided frequent occasions for  head-slapping for many months now, it is once again serving its intended purpose.

Economics must be taught anew in every generation. Hazlitt continues to be the world’s teacher.
Bretton Woods is long dead. But this book lives on.

Jeffrey Tucker
Jeffrey Tucker
Jeffrey Tucker is Director of Content for the Foundation for Economic Education and CLO of the startup Liberty.me. Author of five books, and many thousands of articles, he speaks at FEE summer seminars and other events. His latest book is Bit by Bit: How P2P Is Freeing the World.  Follow on Twitter and Like on Facebook. Email
This article was originally published on FEE.org. Read the original article.

Monday, November 7, 2016

Frédéric Bastiat Deserves a Posthumous Nobel by Lawrence W Reed

Frédéric Bastiat Deserves a Posthumous Nobel

If a posthumous Nobel Prize was awarded for crystal-clear writing and masterful storytelling in economics, no one would be more deserving of it than Frédéric Bastiat (June 30, 1801–December 24, 1850). He set the standard over a century and a half ago.

This remarkable Frenchman was an economist in more than the traditional sense. He understood the way the economic world works, and he knew better than anybody how to explain it with an economy of words. He employed everyday language and a conversational tone, an innate clarity that flowed from his logical and orderly presentation. Nothing he wrote was stilted, artificial, or pompous. He was concise and devastatingly to the point. To this day, nobody can read Bastiat and wonder, “Now what was that all about?”

Economic writing these days can be dull and lifeless, larded with verbosity and presumptuous mathematics. Bastiat proved that economics doesn’t have to be that way: the core truths of the science can be made lively and unforgettable. In literature, we think of good storytelling as an art and stories as powerful tools for understanding. Bastiat could tell a story that stabbed you with its brilliance. If your misconceptions were his target, his stories could leave you utterly, embarrassingly disarmed.

If you aspire to be an economist or a policy maker or a teacher or just an influential communicator, take time to study at the feet of this 19th-century master.

At the end of his short life, Bastiat served two years in France’s Constituent and Legislative Assemblies, where he worked tirelessly to convince fellow members of the merits of freedom and free markets. They proved to be his toughest audience. Most were far more interested in selfish and ephemeral satisfactions (such as power, money, reelection, and the dispensing of favors to friends) than in enduring truths. Biographer Dean Russell writes,
It is true that every one of Bastiat’s major proposals in the Assembly was defeated! But if that is to be the sole or primary test of influence, we might be led to the absurd conclusion that the influence of Socrates’ ideas was settled by the poisoned cup.
Bastiat’s most famous work is The Law, a book that FEE is proud to have revived and kept alive for decades. Now we aim to introduce a new generation of readers to three of his lesser-known works: Economic Sophisms, Economic Harmonies, and Selected Essays on Political Economy. Each is a masterpiece of clear writing and powerful storytelling.

Protectionism comes under relentless assault by Bastiat in these three volumes. Why should two countries that dig a tunnel through their mountainous border to facilitate travel and trade then seek to undo its advantages by imposing burdensome taxes at both ends? If the sun offers free sunlight, why shouldn’t we accept it heartily instead of decrying it as unfair competition for candle makers? And if an exporter sells his goods abroad for more than they were worth at home, then buys valuable goods with the proceeds to bring back to his homeland, why would anyone in his right mind condemn the transactions as yielding a balance of trade “deficit”? If you’re a protectionist before reading Bastiat, you’ll either repent or forever remain in darkness with no excuse.

The world in the 21st century is beset with economic fallacies that are, for the most part, modern versions of those that Bastiat demolished 16 decades ago. The answers to the vexing problems those fallacies produce are not to be found in proposals that empower bureaucracy while imposing tortuous regulations on private behavior. It’s far more likely that the answers lie in the profound and permanent principles that Frédéric Bastiat did so much to illuminate.

Sound economics and radiant exposition converge in these works. His brilliance is the gift that never gives up.
Lawrence W. Reed
Lawrence W. Reed
Lawrence W. Reed is President of the Foundation for Economic Education and the author of the forthcoming book, Real Heroes: Inspiring True Stories of Courage, Character and Conviction. Follow on Twitter and Like on Facebook.
This article was originally published on FEE.org. Read the original article.

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Money in Ancient Rome By James W Gilbart 1853

Money in Ancient Rome By James William Gilbart 1853

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The Romans, like other ancient nations, had, at first, no coined money, but either exchanged commodities against one another, or used a certain weight of uncoined brass. The various names of money also denoted weights, in the same way as with us, who now use the word "pound" to denote a coin, whereas it first denoted a pound of silver. Indeed, we have borrowed this practice from the Romans; and over the figures that denote the pounds, we do not place the letter P, but the letter L—the first letter in the word libra—the Latin word for a pound. The Roman pound was equal to about twelve ounces avoirdupois.

The table of Roman money would stand thus:—
10 asses make one denarius.
25 denarii make one aureus.

The as was of brass, the denarius of silver, and the aureus of gold.

All the Roman money was originally of brass; and hence the word as, which in Latin denotes brass, is also employed to denote money. Silver was not coined in Rome until the year of the city 483; that is, 269 years before the Christian era,—and gold, 62 years later, or 207 years before the Christian era.

Servius Tullius first stamped pieces of brass with the image of cattle, oxen, and swine. The Latin name for these is pecudes; hence, money was called pecunia, from which we derive our word pecuniary. The As was a brass coin that weighed a pound. There were other brass coins, weighing one-half, one-fourth, and one-sixth of a pound.

The practice of depreciating the currency, by issuing coins sustaining the same names as the previous coins, but containing a less quantity of metal, was adopted by the Romans to a greater extent than in our own country. With us, a pound weight of silver that was formerly coined into twenty shillings, is now coined into sixty-six shillings. In the first Punic war, money became so scarce that the Romans coined asses that only weighed two ounces, or the sixth part of a pound, which passed for the same value as those of a pound weight had done; by this means the republic gained five-sixths, and thus discharged its debts. Such an example could not fail to have imitators among succeeding statesmen. In the second Punic war, while Fabius was dictator, the asses were made to weigh only one ounce, and subsequently they were reduced to half an ounce.

The denarius was of silver. The Romans had three silver coins—the denarius, the quinarius, and the sestertius. The first was equal to ten asses, that is, to ten pounds of brass; the second, to five asses; and the third, to two asses and a-half.

A pound of silver was coined into a hundred denarii; so that, at first, a pound of silver was equal to a thousand pounds of brass, a circumstance which proves that silver was then comparatively scarce. But afterwards the case was altered; for, when the weight of the as was diminished, it bore the same proportion to the denarius as before, till it was reduced to one ounce, and then a denarius passed for sixteen asses. The weight of the silver money also varied, and was different under the emperors from what it had been under the republic.

We translate the word denarius by the word penny, and over figures denoting pence we put the letter D, being the first letter in the word denarius, the Latin for a penny. But the Roman penny was not made of copper, nor of brass, but of silver, and, at the time of the Christian era, was worth about sevenpence-halfpenny of our money. We learn from the New Testament history, that the Roman penny bore the image and superscription of the emperor, and was used in the payment of taxes; that it was the usual wages for a day's labour; and that two-pence would provide a night's entertainment at a public inn.

The aureus was of gold. It was first struck at Rome in the second Punic war (207 years before the Christian era), and was equal in weight to two-and-a-half denarii, and in value to twenty-five denarii, or one hundred sestertia. The common rate of gold to silver, under the republic, was tenfold. At first, forty aurei were made from a pound of gold; but, under the later emperors, they were mixed with alloy, and thus their intrinsic value was diminished.

Among the Romans, money was computed by sestertia. A sestertium was the name of a sum, not of a coin, and was equal to a thousand of the coins called sestertius. A sestertius is equal in English money to the one hundred and twenty-fifth part of a pound sterling, or about one penny, three farthings, and two thirds of a farthing.

The system of banking at Rome was somewhat similar to that which is in use in modem times. Into these institutions the state or the men of wealth caused their revenues to be paid, and they settled their accounts with their creditors by giving a draft or cheque on the bank. If the creditor also had an account at the same bank, the account was settled by an order to make the transfer of so much money from one name to another. These bankers, too, were money-changers. They also lent money on interest, and allowed a lower rate of interest on money deposited in their hands. In a country where commerce was looked upon with contempt, banking could not be deemed very respectable. Among most of the ancient agricultural nations, there was a prejudice against the taking of interest for the loan of money. Hence, the private bankers at Rome were sometimes held in disrepute, but those whom the government had established as public cashiers, or receivers-general, as we may term them, held so exalted a rank that some of them became consuls.

The Romans had also loan banks, from which the poor citizens received loans without paying interest. We are told that the confiscated property of criminals was converted into a fund by Augustus Ceasar, and that from this fund sums of money were lent, without interest, to those citizens who could pledge value to double the amount. The same system was pursued by Tiberius. He advanced a large capital, which was lent for a term of two or three years to those who could give landed security to double the value of the loan. Alexander Severus reduced the market-rate of interest, by lending sums of money at a low rate, and by advancing money to poor citizens to purchase lands, and agreeing to receive payment from the produce.

The deity who presided over commerce and banking was Mercury, who, by a strange association, was also the god of thieves and of orators. The Romans, who looked upon merchants with contempt, fancied there was a resemblance between theft and merchandise, and they easily found a figurative connexion between theft and eloquence, and hence, thieves, merchants, and orators were placed under the superintendence of the same deity. On the 17th of May in each year the merchants held a public festival, and walked in procession to the temple of Mercury, for the purpose, as the satirists said, of begging pardon of the deity for all the lying and cheating they had found it convenient to practise, in the way of business, during the preceding year.

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