A Treatise on Political Economy
BOOK III, CHAPTER V
OF INDIVIDUAL CONSUMPTION—ITS MOTIVES AND ITS EFFECTS.
The consumption of individuals, as contrasted with that of the public or community at large, is such as is made with the object of satisfying the wants of families and individuals. These wants chiefly consist in those of food, raiment, lodging, and amusement. They are supplied with the necessary articles of consumption in each department, out of the respective revenue of each family or individual, whether derived from personal industry, from capital, or from land. The wealth of a family advances, declines, or remains stationary, according as its consumption equals, exceeds, or falls short of its revenue. The aggregate of the consumption of all the individuals, added to that of the government for public purposes, forms the grand total of national consumption.
A family, or indeed a community, or nation, may certainly consume the whole of its revenue, without being thereby impoverished; but it by no means follows, that it either must, or would act wisely, in so doing. Common prudence would counsel to provide against casualties. Who can say with certainty, that his income will not fall off, or that his fortune is exempt from the injustice, the fraud, or the violence of mankind? Lands may be confiscated; ships may be wrecked; litigation may involve him in its expenses and uncertainties. The richest merchant is liable to be ruined by one unlucky speculation, or by the failure of others. Were he to spend his whole income, his capital might, and in all probability would, be continually on the decline.
But, supposing it to remain stationary, should one be content with keeping it so? A fortune, however large, will seem little enough, when it comes to be divided amongst a number of children. And, even if there be no occasion to divide it, what harm is there in enlarging it; so it be done by honourable means? what else is it, but the desire of each individual to better his situation, that suggests the frugality that accumulates capital, and thereby assists the progress of industry, and leads to national opulence and civilisation? Had not previous generations been actuated by this stimulus, the present one would now be in the savage state; and it is impossible to say, how much farther it may yet be possible to carry civilization. It has never been proved to my satisfaction, that nine-tenths of the population must inevitably remain in that degree of misery and semi-barbarism, which they are found in at present in most countries of Europe.
The observance of the rules of private economy keeps the consumption of a family within reasonable bounds: that is to say, the bounds prescribed in each instance by a judicious comparison of the value sacrificed in consumption, with the satisfaction it affords. None but the individual himself, can fairly and correctly estimate the loss and gain, resulting to himself or family from each particular act of consumption; for the balance will depend upon the fortune, the rank, and the wants of himself and family; and, in some degree, perhaps, upon personal taste and feelings. To restrain consumption within too narrow limits, would involve the privation of gratification that fortune has placed within reach; and, on the other hand, a too profuse consumption might trench upon resources, that it might be but common prudence to husband.*15
Individual consumption has constant reference to the character and passions of the consumer. It is influenced alternately by the noblest and the vilest propensities of our nature; at one time it is stimulated by sensuality; at another by vanity, by generosity, by revenge, or even by covetousness. It is checked by prudence or foresight, by groundless apprehension, by distrust, or by selfishness. As these various qualities happen in turn to predominate, they direct mankind in the use they make of their wealth. In this, as in every other action of life, the line of true wisdom is the most difficult to observe. Human infirmity is perpetually deviating to the one side or the other, and seldom steers altogether clear of excess.*16
In respect to consumption, prodigality and avarice are the two faults to be avoided: both of them neutralize the benefits that wealth is calculated to confer on its possessor; prodigality by exhausting, avarice by not using, the means of enjoyment. Prodigality is, indeed, the more amiable of the two, because it is allied to many amiable and social qualities. It is regarded with more indulgence, because it imparts its pleasures to others; yet it is of the two the more mischievous to society; for it squanders and makes away with the capital that should be the support of industry; it destroys industry, the grand agent of production, by the destruction of the other agent, capital. If, by expense and consumption, are meant those kinds only which minister to our pleasures and luxuries, it is a great mistake to say that money is good for nothing but to be spent, and that products are only raised to be consumed. Money may be employed in the work of re-production; when so employed, it must be productive of great benefit; and, every time that a fixed capital is squandered, a corresponding quantity of industry must be extinguished, in some quarter or other. The spendthrift, in running through his fortune, is at the same time exhausting, pro tanto, the source of the profits upon industry.
The miser, who, in the dread of losing his money, hesitates to turn it to account, does, indeed, nothing to promote the progress of industry; but at least he can not be said to reduce the means of production. His hoard is scraped together by the abridgment of his personal gratifications, not at the expense of the public, according to the vulgar notion; it has been withdrawn from no productive occupation, and will at any rate re-appear at his death, and be available for the purpose of extending the operations of industry, if it be not squandered by his heirs, or so effectually concealed, as to evade all search or recovery.
It is absurd in spendthrifts to boast of their prodigality, which is quite as unworthy the nobleness of our nature, as the sordid meanness of the opposite character. There is no merit in consuming all one can lay hands upon, and desisting only when one can get no more to consume; every animal can do as much; nay, there are some animals that set a better example of provident management. It is more becoming the character of a being gifted with reason and foresight, never to consume, in any instance, without some reasonable object in view. At least, this is the course that economy would prescribe.
In short, economy is nothing more than the direction of human consumption with judgment and discretion,—the knowledge of our means, and the best mode of employing them. There is no fixed rule of economy; it must be guided by a reference to the fortune, condition, and wants of the consumer. An expense, that may be authorized by the strictest economy in a person of moderate fortune, would, perhaps, be pitiful in a rich man, and absolute extravagance in a poor one. In a state of sickness, a man must allow himself indulgences, that he would not think of in health. An act of beneficence, that trenches on the personal enjoyments of the benefactor, is deserving of the highest praise; but it would be highly blamable, if done at the expense of his children's subsistence.
Economy is equally distant from avarice and profusion. Avarice hoards,not for the purpose of consuming or re-producing, but for the mere sake of hoarding; it is a kind of instinct, or mechanical impulse, much to the discredit of those in whom it is detected; whereas, true economy is the offspring of prudence and sound reason and does not sacrifice necessaries to superfluities, like the miser when he denies himself present comforts, in the view of luxury, ever prospective and never to be enjoyed. The most sumptuous entertainment may be conducted with economy, without diminishing, but rather adding to its splendour, which the slightest appearance of avarice would tarnish and deface. The economical man balances his means against his present or future wants, and those of his family and friends, not forgetting the calls of humanity. The miser regards neither family nor friends; scarcely attends to his own personal wants, and is an utter stranger to those of mankind at large. Economy never consumes without an object; avarice never willingly consumes at all; the one is a sober and rational study, the only one that supplies the means of fulfilling our duties, and being at the same time just and generous; the other, a vile propensity to sacrifice every thing to the sordid consideration of self.
Economy has not unreasonably been ranked among the virtues of mankind; for, like the other virtues, it implies self-command and control; and is productive of the happiest consequences; the good education of children, physical and moral; the careful attendance of old age; the calmness of mind, so necessary to the good conduct of middle life; and that independence of circumstances which alone can secure against mercenary motives, are all referable to this quality. Without it there can be no liberality, none at least of a permanent and wholesome kind; for, when it degenerates into prodigality, it is an indiscriminate largess, alike to deserving and undeserving; stinting those who have claims in favour of those who have none. It is common to see the spendthrift reduced to beg a favour from people that he has loaded with his bounty; for what he gives now, one expects a return will some day be called for; whereas, the gifts of the economical man are purely gratuitous; for he never gives except from his superfluities. The latter is rich with a moderate fortune; but the miser and the prodigal are poor, though in possession of the largest resources.
Economy is inconsistent with disorder, which stumbles blindfold over wealth, sometimes missing what it most desires, although close within its reach, and sometimes seizing and devouring what it is most interested in preserving; ever impelled by the occurrences of the moment, which it either can not foresee, or can not emancipate itself from; and always unconscious of its own position, and utterly incapable of choosing the proper course for the future. A household, conducted without order, is preyed upon by all the world: neither the fidelity of the servants, nor even the parsimony of the master, can save it from ultimate ruin. For it is exposed to the perpetual recurrence of a variety of little outgoings, on every occasion, however trivial.*17
Among the motives that operate to determine the consumption of individuals, the most prominent is luxury, that frequent theme of declamation, which, however, I should probably not have dwelt upon, could I expect that every body would take the trouble of applying the principles I have been labouring to establish; and were it not always useful to substitute reason for declamation.
Luxury has been defined to be, the use of superfluities.*18 For my own part, I am at a loss to draw the line between superfluities and necessaries; the shades of difference are as indistinct and completely blended as the colours of the rainbow.
Taste, education, temperament, bodily health, make the degrees of utility and necessity infinitely variable, and render it impossible to employ in an absolute sense, terms, which always of necessity convey an idea of relation and comparison.
The line of demarcation between necessaries and superfluities shifts with the fluctuating condition of society. Strictly speaking, mankind might exist upon roots and herbs, with a sheepskin for clothing, and a wigwam for lodging; yet, in the present state of European society, we cannot look upon bread or butcher's meat, woolien-clothes or houses of masonry, as luxuries. For the same reason, the line varies also according to the varying circumstances of individual fortune; what is a necessary in a large town, or in a particular line of life, may, in another line of life, or in the country, be a mere superfluity. Wherefore, it is impossible exactly to define the boundary between the one and the other. Smith has fixed it a little in advance of Stewart; including in the rank of necessaries, besides natural wants, such as the established rules of decency and propriety have made necessary in the lower classes of society. But Smith was wrong in attempting to fix at all what must, in the nature of things, be ever varying.
Luxury may be said, in a general way, to be, the use or consumption of dear articles; for the term dear is one of relation, and therefore may be properly enough applied in the definition of another term, whose sense is likewise relative. Luxury*19 with us in France conveys the idea rather of ostentation than of sensuality; applied to dress, it denotes rather the superior beauty and impression upon the beholder, than superior convenience and comfort to the wearer; applied to the table, it means rather the splendour of a sumptuous banquet, than the exquisite farce of the solitary epicure. The grand aim of luxury in this sense is to attract admiration by the rarity, the costliness, and the magnificence of the objects displayed, recommended probably neither by utility, nor convenience, nor pleasurable qualities, but merely by their dazzling exterior and effect upon the opinions of mankind at large. Luxury conveys the idea of ostentation; but ostentation has itself a far more extensive meaning, and comprehends every quality assumed for the purpose of display. A man may be ostentatiously virtuous, but is never luxuriously so; for luxury implies expense. Thus, luxury of with or genius is a metaphorical expression, implying a profuse display or expenditure, if it may be so called, of those qualities of the intellect, which it is the characteristic of good taste to deal out with a sparing hand.
Although, with us in France, what we term luxury is chiefly directed to ostentatious indulgence, the excess and refinement of sensuality are equally unjustifiable, and of precisely similar effect: that is to say, of a frivolous and inconsiderable enjoyment or satisfaction, obtained by a large consumption, calculated to satisfy more urgent and extensive wants. But I should not stigmatise as luxury that degree of variety or abundance, which a prudent and well-informed person in a civilised community would like to see upon his table upon domestic and common occasions, or aim at in his dress and abode, when under no compulsion to keep up an appearance. I should call this degree of indulgence judicious and suitable to his condition, but not an instance of luxury.
Having thus defined the term luxury, we may go on to investigate its effect upon the well-ordering or economy of nations.
Under the head of unproductive consumption is comprised the satisfaction of many actual and urgent wants, which is a purpose of sufficient consequence to outweigh the mischief, that must ensue from the destruction of values. But what is there to compensate that mischief, where such consumption has not for its object the satisfaction of such wants? where money is spent for the mere sake of spending, and the value destroyed without any object beyond its destruction?
It is supposed to be beneficial, at all events, to the producers of the articles consumed. But it is to be considered, that the same expenditure must take place, though not, perhaps, upon objects quite so frivolous; for the money withheld from luxurious indulgences is not absolutely thrown into the sea; it is sure to be spent either upon more judicious gratifications or upon reproduction. In one way or other, all the revenue, not absolutely sunk or buried, is consumed by the receiver of it, or by some one in his stead; and in all cases whatever, the encouragement held out by consumption to the producer is co-extensive with the total amount of revenue to be expended. Whence it follows:
1. That the encouragement which ostentatious extravagance affords to one class of production is necessarily withdrawn from another.
2. That the encouragement resulting from this kind of consumption cannot increase, except in the event of an increase in the revenue of the consumers: which revenue, as we can not but know by this time, is not to be increased by luxurious, but solely by reproductive consumption.
How great, then, must be the mistake of those, who, on observing the obvious fact, that the production always equals the consumption, as it must necessarily do, since a thing can not be consumed before it is produced, have confounded the cause with the effect, and laid it down as a maxim, that consumption originates production; therefore that frugality is directly adverse to public prosperity, and that the most useful citizen is the one who spends the most.
The partisans of the two opposite systems above adverted to, the economists, and the advocates of exclusive commerce, or the balance of trade, have made this maxim a fundamental article of their creed. The merchants and manufacturers, who seldom look beyond the actual sale of their products, or inquire into the causes which may operate to extend their sale, have warmly supported a position, apparently so consistent with their interests; the poets, who are ever apt to be seduced by appearances, and do not consider themselves bound to be wiser than politicians and men of business, have been loud in the praise of luxury;*20 and the rich have not been backward in adopting principles, that exalt their ostentation into a virtue, and their self-gratification into benevolence.*21
This prejudice, however, must vanish as the increasing knowledge of political economy begins to reveal the real sources of wealth, the means of production, and the effect of consumption. Vanity may take pride in idle expense, but will ever be held in no less contempt by the wise, on account of its pernicious effects, than it has been all along, for the motives by which it is actuated.
These conclusions of theory have been confirmed by experience. Misery is the inseparable companion of luxury. The man of wealth and ostentation squanders upon costly trinkets, sumptuous repasts, magnificent mansions, dogs, horses, and mistresses, a portion of value, which, vested in productive occupation, would enable a multitude of willing labourers, whom his extravagance now consigns to idleness and misery, to provide themselves with warm clothing nourishing food, and household conveniences. The gold buckles of the rich man leave the poor one without shoes to his feet; and the labourer will want a shirt to his back, while his rich neighbour glitters in velvet and embroidery.
It is vain to resist the nature of things. Magnificence may do what it will to keep poverty out of sight, yet it will cross it at every turn, still haunting, as if to reproach it for its excesses. This contrast was to be met with at Versailles, at Rome, at Madrid, and in every seat of royal residence. In a recent instance, it occurred in France in an afflicting degree, after a long series of extravagant and ostentatious administration; yet the principle is so undeniable, that one would not suppose it had required so terrible an illustration.*22
Those who are little in the habit of looking through the appearance to the reality of things, are apt to be seduced by the glitter and the bustle of ostentatious luxury. They take the display of consumption as conclusive evidence of national prosperity. If they could open their eyes, they would see, that a nation verging towards decline will for some time continue to preserve a show of opulence; like the establishment of a spendthrift on the high road to ruin. But this false glare can not last long; the effort dries up the sources of reproduction, and, therefore, must infallibly be followed by a state of apathy and exhaustion of the political frame, which is only to be remedied by slow degrees, and by the adoption of a regimen the very reverse of that, by which it has thus been reduced.
It is distressing to see the fatal habits and customs of the nation one is attached to by birth, fortune, and social affection, extending their influence over the wisest individuals, and those best able to appreciate this danger and foresee its disastrous consequences. The number of persons, who have sufficient spirit and independence of fortune to act up to their principles, and set themselves forward as an example, is extremely small. Most men yield to the torrent, and rush on ruin with their eyes open, in search of happiness; although it requires a very small share of philosophy to see the madness of this course, and to perceive, that, when once the common wants of nature are satisfied, happiness is to be found, not in the frivolous enjoyments of luxurious vanity, but in the moderate exercise of our physical and moral faculties.
Wherefore, those, who abuse great power, or talent, by exerting it in diffusing a taste for luxury, are the worst enemies of social happiness. If there is one habit, that deserves more encouragement than another, in monarchies as well as republics, in great as well as small, it is this of economy. Yet, after all, no encouragement is wanted; it is quite enough to withdraw favour and honour from habits of profusion; to afford inviolable security to all savings and acquirements; to give perfect freedom to their investment and occupation in every branch of industry, that is not absolutely criminal.
It is alleged, that, to excite mankind to spend or consume, is to excite them to produce, inasmuch as they can only spend what they may acquire. This fallacy is grounded on the assumption, that production is equally within the ability of mankind as consumption; that it is as easy to augment as to expend one's revenue. But, supposing it were so, nay further, that the desire to spend, begets a liking for labour, although experience by no means warrants such a conclusion, yet there can be no enlargement of production, without an augmentation of capital, which is one of the necessary elements of production; but it is clear, that capital can only be accumulated by frugality; and how can that be expected from those, whose only stimulus to production is the desire of enjoyment.
Moreover, when the desire of acquirement is stimulated by the love of display, how can the slow and limited progress of real production keep pace with the ardour of that motive? Will it not find a shorter road to its object, in the rapid and disreputable profits of jobbing and intrigue, classes of industry most fatal to national welfare, because they produce nothing themselves, but only aim at appropriating a share of the produce of other people? It is this motive, that sets in motion the despicable art and cunning of the knave, leads the pettifogger to speculate on the obscurity of the laws, and the man of authority to sell to folly and wickedness that patronage which it is his duty to dispense gratuitously to merit and to right. Pliny mentions having seen Paulina at a supper, dressed in a network of pearls and emeralds, that cost 40 millions of sestertii,*23 as she was ready to prove by her jeweller's bills. It was bought with the fruit of her ancestor's speculations. "Thus," says the Roman writer, "it was to dress out his grand-daughter in jewels at an entertainment, that Lollius forgot himself so far, as to lay waste whole provinces, to become the object of detestation to the Asiatics he governed, to forfeit the favour of Cæsar, and end his life by poison."
This is the kind of industry generated by love of display.
If it be pretended, that a system, which encourages profusion, operates only upon the wealthy, and thus tends to a beneficial end, inasmuch as it reduces the evil of the inequality of fortune, there can be little difficulty in showing, that profusion in the higher, begets a similar spirit in the middling and lower classes of society, which last must, of course, the soonest arrive at the limits of their income; so that, in fact, the universal profusion has the effect of increasing, instead of reducing, that inequality. Besides, the profusion of the wealthier class is always preceded, or followed, by that of the government, which must be fed and supplied by taxation, that is always sure to fall more heavily upon small incomes than on large ones.*24
The apologists of luxury have sometimes gone so far as to cry up the advantages of misery and indigence; on the ground, that, without the stimulus of want, the lower classes of mankind could never be impelled to labour, so that neither the upper classes, nor society at large, could have the benefit of their exertions.
Happily, this position is as false in principle as it would be cruel in practice. Were nakedness a sufficient motive of exertion, the savage would be the most diligent and laborious, for he is the nearest to nakedness, of his species. Yet his indolence is equally notorious and incurable. Savages will often fret themselves to death, if compelled to work. It is observable throughout Europe, that the laziest nations are those nearest approaching to the savage state; a mechanic in good circumstances, at London or Paris, would execute twice as much work in a given time, as the rude mechanic of a poor district. Wants multiply as fast as they are satisfied; a man who has a jacket is for having a coat; and, when he has his coat, he must have a greatcoat too. The artisan, that is lodged in an apartment by himself, extends his views to a second; if he has two shirts, he soon wants a dozen, for the comforts of more frequent change of linen; whereas, if he has none at all, he never feels the want of it. No man feels any disinclination to make a further acquisition, in consequence of having made one already.
The comforts of the lower classes are, therefore, by no means incompatible with the existence of society, as too many have maintained. The shoemaker will make quite as good shoes in a warm room, with a good coat to his back, and wholesome food for himself and his family, as when perishing with cold in an open stall; he is not less skilful or inclined to work, because he has the reasonable conveniences of life. Linen is washed as well in England, where washing is carried on comfortably within doors, as where it is executed in the nearest stream in the neighbourhood.
It is time for the rich to abandon the puerile apprehension of losing the objects of their sensuality, if the poor man's comforts be promoted. On the contrary, reason and experience concur in teaching, that the greatest variety, abundance, and refinement of enjoyment are to be found in those countries, where wealth abounds most, and is the most widely diffused.
Notes for this chapter
On this ground sumptuary laws are superfluous and unjust. The indulgence proscribed is either within the means of the individual or not: in the former case, it is an act of oppression to prohibit a gratification involving no injury to others, equally unjustifiable as prohibition in any other particular; in the latter, it is at all events nugatory to do so; for there is no occasion for legal interference, where pecuniary circumstances alone are an effectual bar. Every irregularity of this kind works its own punishment. It has been said, that it is the duty of the government to check those habits, which have a tendency to lead people into expenses exceeding their means; but it will be found, that such habits can only be introduced by the example and encouragement of the public authorities themselves. In all other circumstances, neither custom nor fashion will ever lead the different classes of society into any expenses, but what are suitable to their respective means.
The weaker sex is, from the very circumstance of inferiority in strength of mind, exposed to greater excess both of avarice and prodigality.
I remember being once in the country a witness of the numberless minute losses that neglectful housekeeping entails. For want of a trumpery latch, the gate of the poultry-yard was forever open: there being no means of closing it externally, it was on the swing every time a person went out; and many of the poultry were lost in consequence. One day a fine young porker made his escape into the woods, and the whole family, gardener, cook, milk-maid, &c., presently turned out in quest of the fugitive. The gardener was the first to discover the object of pursuit, and in leaping a ditch to cut off his further escape, got a sprain that confined him to his bed for the next fortnight: the cook found the linen burnt that she had left hung up before the fire to dry; and the milk-maid, having forgotten in her haste to tie up the cattle properly in the cow-house, one of the loose cows had broken the leg of a colt that happened to be kept in the same shed. The linen burnt and the gardener's work lost, were worth full twenty crowns; and the colt about as much more: so that here was a loss in a few minutes of forty crowns, purely for want of a latch that might have cost a few sous at the utmost; and this in a household where the strictest economy was necessary, to say nothing of the suffering of the poor man, or the anxiety and other troublesome incidents. The misfortune was to be sure not very serious, nor the loss very heavy; yet when it is considered, that similar neglect was the occasion of repeated disasters of the same kind, and ultimately of the ruin of a worthy family, it was deserving of some little attention.
Stewart, Essay on Pol. Econ. book ii. c. 20. The same writer has in an other passage observed, that every thing not absolutely necessary to bare existence is a superfluity.
The English term luxury has a much more sensual meaning than the French luxe, and seems to comprise both luxe and luxure, the luxus, or luxuria, and luxuries of the Latin writers.
Though it is not every subject that allows equal scope to poetical genius, it does not seem, that error affords a finer field than truth. The lines of Voltaire on the system of the world, and on the discoveries of Newton regarding the properties of light, are strictly conformable to the rules of science, and nowise inferior in beauty to those of Lucretius on the fanciful dogmas of the Epicurean school. But if Voltaire had been better acquainted with the principles of political economy, he would never have given utterance to such sentiments as the following:
Un grand état, s'il en perd un petit.
Cette splendeur, cette pompe mondaine,
D'un regne heureux est la marque certain.
Le riche est né pour beaucoup dépenser....
The progress of science compels those who covet literary fame, to make themselves acquainted with general principles at the least; without a close adherence to truth and nature, there is little chance of permanent reputation, even in the poetical department.
De Gens, qui ne dépensent rien;
Je ne sais d'homme nécessaire,
Que celui dont le luxe épand beaucoup de bien.
La Fontaine, Avantage de la Science.
"Were the rich not to spend their money freely," says Montesquieu, "the poor would starve." Esprit des Lois, liv. vii. c. 4.
There are other circumstances that contribute to veil the residence of the court in an atmosphere of human misery. It is there, that personal service is consumed by wholesale; and that is of all things the most rapidly consumed, being, indeed, consumed as fast as produced. Under this denomination, is to be comprised, the agency of the soldiery, of menial servants, of public functionaries, whether useful or not, of clerks, lawyers, judges, civilians, ecclesiastics, actors, musicians, drolls, and numerous other hangers-on, who all crowd towards the focus of power and occupation, civil, judicial, military, or religious. It is there also, that material products seem to be more wantonly consumed. The choicest viands, the most beautiful and costly stuffs, the rarest works of art and fashion, all seem emulous to reach this general sink, whence little or nothing ever emerges.
Yet, if the accumulated values, that are drained from every quarter of the national territory to feed the consumption of the seat of royalty, were distributed with any regard to equity, they would probably suffice to maintain all classes in comfort and plenty. Though such drains must always be calamitous, because they absorb value, and yield no return, at any rate the local population might be pretty well off; but it is notorious that wealth is nowhere less equally diffused. The prince, the favourite, a mistress, or a bloated peculator, takes the lion's share, leaving to the subordinate drones the pittance assigned to them by the generosity or caprice of their superiors.
The residence of an overgrown proprietor upon his estate then only tends to diffuse abundance and cheerfulness around him, when his expenditure is directed to objects of utility, rather than of pomp; in which case he is really an adventurer in agriculture, and an accumulator of capital in the shape of improvements and ameliorations.
[About 140,000 dollars. Some English ladies wear jewels of greater value; but some read the passage in Pliny Quadringenties, instead of Quadragies Sestertium. This would make the jewels of Paulina worth 1,400,000 dollars; the more probable sum.] American Editor.
In favour of luxury, the following paradoxical argument has been advanced; for what is too ridiculous to be hazarded in such a cause? "That since luxury consumes superfluities only, the objects it destroys are of little real utility, and therefore the loss to society can be but small." There is this ready answer: the value of the objects consumed by luxury must have been reduced by the competition of producers to a level with the charges of production, wherein are comprised the profits of the producers. Objects of luxury are equally the product of land, capital, and industry, which might have been employed in raising objects of real utility, had the demand taken that direction; for production invariably accommodates itself to the taste of the consumers.
Book III, Chapter VI
End of Notes
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