easily become too populous for husbandry. In the<107> two former states, food must decrease in quantity as consumers increase in number: but agriculture has the signal property of producing, by industry, food in proportion to the number of consumers. In fact, the greatest quantities of corn and of cattle are commonly produced in the most populous districts, where each family has its proportion of land. An ancient Roman, sober and industrious, made a shift to maintain his family on the produce of a few acres.*
The bounty given in Britain for exporting corn is friendly to population in two respects; first, because husbandry requires many hands; and, next, because the bounty lowers the price of corn at home. To give a bounty for exporting cattle would obstruct population; because pasture requires few hands, and exportation raises the price of cattle at home. From the single port of Cork, an. 1735, were ex-<108>ported 107,161 barrels of beef, 7379 barrels of pork, 13,461 casks of butter, and 85,727 firkins of the same commodity. Thus a large portion of Ireland is set apart for feeding other nations. What addition of strength would it not be to Britain, if that large quantity of food were consumed at home by useful manufacturers!
No manufacture contributes more to population than that of silk. It employs as many hands as wool; and it withdraws no land from tillage or pasture.2
Lapland is but thinly inhabited even for the shepherd-state, the country being capable of maintaining a greater number of rain-deer, and consequently a greater number of the human species than are found in it. Yet the Laplanders are well acquainted with private property: every family has tame rain-deer of their own, to the extent sometimes of four or five hundred: they indeed appear to have more rain-deer than there is a demand for. Why then is Lapland so thinly peopled? Either it must have been but lately planted, or the inhabitants are not prolific. I incline to the latter, upon the authority of Scheffer. Tartary is also but thinly<109> peopled; and as I find not that the Tartars are less prolific than their neighbours, it is probable that Tartary, being the most barren country in Asia, has not been early planted. At the same time, population has been much retarded by the restless and roaming spirit of that people: it is true, they have been forced into the shepherd-state by want of food; but so averse are they to the sedentary life of a shepherd, that they trust their cattle to slaves, and persevere in their favourite occupation of hunting. This disposition has been a dreadful pest to the human species, the Tartars having made more extensive conquests, and destroyed more men, than any other nation known in history: more cruel than tigers, they seemed to have no delight but in blood and massacre, without any regard either to sex or age.* Luckily for the human species, rich spoils dazzled their eyes, and roused an appetite for wealth. Avarice is sometimes productive of good: it moved these monsters<110> to sell the conquered people for slaves, which preserved the lives of millions. Conquests, however successful, cannot go on for ever; they are not accomplished without great loss of men; and the conquests of the Tartars depopulated their country.
But as some centuries have elapsed without any considerable eruption of that fiery people, their numbers must at present be considerable by the ordinary progress of population. Have we not reason to dread new eruptions, like what formerly happened? Our foreknowledge of future events extends not far; but in all appearance we have nothing to fear from that quarter. The Tartars subdued a great part of the world by ferocity and undaunted courage, supported by liberty and independence. They acknowledged Genhizkan as their leader in war, but were as far from being slaves, as the Franks were when they conquered Gaul. Tamerlane again enjoyed but a substituted power, and never had the boldness to assume the title of Chan or Emperor. But the Tartars have submitted to the same yoke of despotism that their ferocity imposed upon<111> others; and being now governed by a number of petty tyrants, their courage is broken by slavery, and they are no longer formidable to the rest of mankind.*
Depopulation enters into the present sketch as well as population. The latter follows not with greater certainty from equality of property, than the former from inequality. In every great state, where the people by prosperity and opulence are sunk into voluptuousness, we hear daily complaints of depopulation. Cookery depopulates like a pestilence; because, when it becomes an art, it brings within the compass of one stomach what is sufficient for ten in days of temperance; and is so far worse than a pestilence, that the people<112> never recruit again. The inhabitants of France devour at present more food than the same number did formerly. The like is observable in Britain, and in every country where luxury abounds. Remedies are proposed and put in practice, celibacy disgraced, marriage encouraged, and rewards given for a numerous offspring. All in vain! The only effectual remedies are to encourage husbandry, and to repress luxury. Olivares hoped to repeople Spain by encouraging matrimony. Abderam, a Mahometan king of Cordova, was a better politician. By encouraging industry, and procuring plenty of food, he repeopled his kingdom in less than thirty years.†
Luxury is a deadly enemy to population, not only by intercepting food from the industrious, but by weakening the power of<113> procreation. Indolence accompanies voluptuousness, or rather is a branch of it: women of rank employ others to move them, being too delicate to move themselves; and a woman enervated by indolence and intemperance, is ill qualified for the severe labour of child-bearing. Hence it is, that people of rank, where luxury prevails, are not prolific. This infirmity not only prevents population, but increases luxury, by accumulating wealth among a few blood-relations. A barren woman among the labouring poor, is a wonder. Could women of rank be persuaded to make a trial, they would find more self-enjoyment in temperance and exercise, than in the most refined luxury; nor would they have cause to envy others the blessing of a numerous and healthy offspring.
Luxury is not a greater enemy to population by enervating men and women, than despotism is by reducing them to slavery, and destroying industry. Despotism is a greater enemy to the human species than an Egyptian plague; for, by rendering men miserable, it weakens both the appetite for procreation and the power. <114> Free states, on the contrary, are always populous: a man who is happy, longs for children to make them also happy; and industry enables him to accomplish his longing. This observation is verified from the history of Greece, and of the Lesser Asia: the inhabitants anciently were free and numerous: the present inhabitants are reduced by slavery to a small number. A pestilence destroys those only who exist, and the loss is soon repaired; but despotism, as above observed, strikes at the very root of population.
An overflowing quantity of money in circulation, is another cause of depopulation. In a nation that grows rich by commerce, the price of labour increases with the quantity of circulating coin, which of course raises the price of manufactures; and manufacturers, who cannot find a vent for their high-rated goods in foreign markets, must give over business and commence beggars, or retire to another country where they may have a prospect of success. But luckily, there is a remedy, in that case, to prevent depopulation: land is cultivated to greater perfection by the spade than by the plough; and the more<115> plentiful crops produced by the former, are fully sufficient to defray the additional expence. This is a resource for employing those who cannot make bread as manufacturers, and deserves well the attention of the legislature. The advantage of the spade is conspicuous with respect to war; it provides a multitude of robust men for recruiting the army, the want of whom may be supplied by the plough, till they return in peace to their former occupation.<116>
Among the senses inherent in man, the sense of property is eminent. That sense is the foundation of yours and mine, a distinction which no human being is ignorant of. By that sense, wild animals, caught with labour or art, are perceived to belong
