Part 5
Acute minds will not be slow to discern, as in perspective before them, the train of those inferences which we shall feel ourselves at liberty to deduce from the admission that Christianity _is historically true_. This admission can not, we are sure, be withheld; and yet let it not be made with a reserved intention to evade the consequences. What are they? They are such as embrace the personal well-being of every one; for, if Christianity _be_ a history, it is a history still in full progress; it is a history running on, far beyond the dim horizon of human hopes and fears.
[_January 27._]
But it is said, all this, at the best, _is moral evidence only_; and those who are conversant with mathematical demonstrations, and with the rigorous methods of physical science, must not be required to yield their convictions easily _to mere moral evidence_.
We ask, have those who are accustomed thus to speak, actually considered the import of their objection; or inquired what are the consequences it involves, if valid? We believe not; and we think so, because the very terms are destitute of logical meaning; or imply, if a meaning be assigned to them, a palpable absurdity.
If, for a moment, we grant an intelligible meaning to the objection as stated, and consent to understand the terms in which it is conveyed, as they are often used, then we affirm that some portion of even the abstract sciences is less certain than are very many things established by what is called moral evidence—that a large amount of what is accredited as probably true within the circle of the physical and mixed sciences _is immeasurably inferior_ in certainty to much which rests upon moral evidence; and further, that so far from its being reasonable to reject this species of evidence, the mere circumstance of a man’s being known to distrust it in the conduct of his daily affairs, would be held to justify, in his case, a commission of lunacy.
No supposition can be more inaccurate than that which assumes the three kinds of proof, _mathematical_, _physical_, and _moral_, to range, one beneath the other, in a regular gradation of certainty; as if the mathematical were in all cases absolute; the physical a degree lower, or, as to its results, in some degree, and always, less certain than those of the first; and, by consequence, the third being inferior to the second, necessarily far inferior to the first; and therefore, always much less certain than that which alone deserves to be spoken of as _certain_, and in fact barely trustworthy in any case.
Any such distribution of the kinds of proof is mere confusion, illogical abstractedly, and involving consequences, which, if acted upon, would appear ridiculously absurd.
It is indeed true that the three great classes of facts—the _universal_, or absolute (mathematical and metaphysical)—the _general_, or physical, and the _individual_ (forensic and historical) are pursued and ascertained by three corresponding methods, or, as they might be called, three logics. But it is far from being true that the three species of reasoning hold an _exclusive_ authority or sole jurisdiction over the three classes of facts above mentioned. Throughout the physical sciences the mathematical logic is perpetually resorted to, while even within the range of the mathematical the physical is, once and again, brought in as an aid. But if we turn to the _historical_ and _forensic_ department of facts, the three methods are so blended in the establishment of them, that to separate them altogether is impracticable; and as to _moral_ evidence, if we use the phrase in any intelligible sense, it does but give its aid, at times, on this ground; and even then the conclusions to which it leads rest upon inductions which are physical, rather than moral.
The conduct of a complicated historical or forensic argument concerning individual facts, resembles the manipulations of an adroit workman, who, having some nice operation in progress, lays down one tool and snatches up another, and then another, according to the momentary exigencies of his task.
That sort of evidence may properly be called _moral_, which appeals to the moral sense, and in assenting to which, as we often do with an irresistible conviction, we are unable, with any precision, to convey to another mind the grounds of our firm belief. It is thus often that we estimate the veracity of a witness or judge of the reality or spuriousness of a written narrative. But then even this sort of evidence, when nicely analyzed, resolves itself into physical principles.
What are these convictions which we find it impossible to clothe in words, but the results in our minds, of slow, involuntary inductions concerning moral qualities, and which, inasmuch as they are peculiarly exact, are not to be transfused into a medium so vague and faulty as is language, at the best?
As to the mass of history, by far the larger portion of it rests, in no proper sense, upon _moral_ evidence. To a portion the mathematical doctrine of probabilities applies—for it may be as a million to one—that an alleged fact, under all the circumstances, is true. But the proof of the larger portion resolves itself into our knowledge of the laws of the material world, and of those of the world of mind. A portion also is conclusively established by a minute scrutiny of its agreement with that intricate combination of small events which makes up the course of human affairs.
Every _real_ transaction, especially those which flow on through a course of time, touches this web-work of small events at many points, and is woven into its very substance. Fiction may indeed paint its personages so as for a moment to deceive the eye, but it has never succeeded in the attempt to foist its factitious embroideries upon the tapestry of truth.
We might take as an instance that irresistible book in which Paley has established the truth of the personal history of St. Paul (“The Horæ Paulinæ”). It is throughout a tracing of the thousand fibres by which a long series of events connects itself with the warp and woof of human affairs. To apply to evidence of this sort, the besom of skepticism, and sweepingly to remove it as consisting only in _moral evidence_, is an amazing instance of confusion of mind.
It is often loosely affirmed that history rests mainly upon moral evidence. Is then a Roman camp moral evidence? Or is a Roman road moral evidence? Or are these and many other facts, when appealed to as proof of the assertion that, in a remote age, the Romans held military occupation of Britain, moral evidence? If they be, then we affirm that, when complete in its kind, it falls not a whit behind mathematical demonstration, as to its certainty.
Although it is not true that Christianity rests mainly upon moral evidence, yet it is true that it might rest on that ground with perfect security.
It is to this species of evidence that we have now appealed; not as establishing the heavenly origin of Christianity, which it _does_ establish, but simply as it attests the historic reality of the person of Christ, and here we must ask an ingenuous confession from whoever may be bound _in foro conscientiæ_ to give it, that the notion of Christianity, and the habitual feelings toward it of many in this Christian country, are such as if brought to the test of severe reasoning could by no ingenuity be made to consist either with the supposition that Christianity is historically false, or that it is historically true! This ambiguous faith of the cultured, less reasonable than the superstitions of the vulgar (for they are consistent, which this is not,) could never hold a place in a disciplined mind but by an act, repeated from day to day, and similar to that of a man who should refuse to have the shutters removed from the windows on that side of his house whence he might descry the residence of his enemy.
If Christianity be historically true it must be granted to demand more than a respectful acknowledgment that its system of ethics is pure; or were it historically false, we ought to think ourselves to be outraging at once virtue and reason in allowing its name to pass our lips. While bowing to Christianity as good and useful, and yet not invested with authority toward ourselves, we are entangled in a web of inconsistencies, of which we are not conscious, only because we choose to make no effort to break through it. If Christianity be true, then it is true that “we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ,” and must, “every one of us, give an account of himself to God.” What meaning do such words convey to the minds of those who, with an equal alarm, would see Christianity overthrown as a controlling power in the social system; or find it brought home to themselves, as an authority, they must personally bow to? Christians! How many amongst us are _Christians_, as men might be called philosophers, who, while naming Newton always with admiration, should yet reserve their interior assent for the very paganism of astronomy.
A religion of facts, we need hardly observe, is the only sort of religion adapted powerfully to affect the hearts of the mass of mankind; for ordinary or uncultured minds can neither grasp, nor will care for, abstractions of any kind. But then that which makes Christianity proper for the many, and indeed proper for all, if motives are to be effectively swayed, renders it a rock of offense to the few who will admit nothing that may not be reduced within the circle of their favored generalizations. Such minds, therefore, reject Christianity, or hold it in abeyance, not because they can disprove it, but because it will not be generalized, because it will not be sublimated, because it will not be touched by the tool of reason; because it must remain what it is—an insoluble mass of facts. In attempting to urge consistency upon such persons, the advocate of Christianity makes no progress, and has to return, ever and again, to his document, and to ask: Is this true, or false? If true, your metaphysics _may_ be true also; but yet must not give law to your opinions; much less, govern your conduct.
Resolute as may be the determination of some to yield to no such control, nevertheless if the evangelic history be true, “one is our Master, even Christ.” He is our Master in abstract speculation—our Master in religious belief, our Master in morals, and in the ordering of every day’s affairs.
It will be readily admitted that this our first position, if it be firm, sweeps away, at a stroke, a hundred systems of religion, ancient and modern, which either have not professed to rest upon historic truth, or which have notoriously failed in making good any such pretension. These various schemes need not be named; they barely merit an enumeration; they are susceptible of no distinct refutation, for they are baseless, powerless, obsolete.
Say you that Christianity is intolerant in thus excluding all other systems? A religion which excludes that which is false is not therefore intolerant. If it be true, it must exclude all that is untrue. Let us have a religion willing to walk abreast with other religions—religions affirming what it denies, and denying what it affirms—but indulgent toward all. An intolerant religion is the religion of a sect, and of a sect in fear.
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
By G. M. STEELE, D.D.
IV.
DISTRIBUTION.
I. Distribution in economics embraces those principles on which the proceeds of industry are divided among the parties employed in their production.
If each man owned all the capital concerned in his business, and performed all the labor involved in each product, this question would be a very simple one. But when, as in the manufacture of chairs, of hardware and watches, and in the building of houses, there are many laborers of widely diverse capabilities, and especially when we remember that there are innumerable subsidiary occupations, as in the preparing of materials, the making of tools and machines, the protection of the workmen, the superintendence of the business, and in many other ways, the problem becomes a most complicated one.
The subject may be divided as follows:
1. _Wages_, or the compensation of labor.
2. _Profits_, or the compensation of the proprietor or employer.
3. _Interest_, or compensation for capital reckoned as money.
4. _Rent_, or compensation for the use of land.
5. _Taxes_, or compensation for protection by the government.
II. On the subject of _wages_ diverse and contradictory opinions prevail. A large proportion of the British economists hold the theory that a low rate of wages is all that can be maintained, or is, on the whole, desirable among ordinary unskilled laborers. That a man should have compensation sufficient to furnish him with such food, raiment and shelter as are essential to keep him in good working condition; also, in addition, enough to enable him to support a wife (with what she can herself earn), and to rear at least two children, themselves prepared to become laborers; and to make some additional allowances for probable periods of sickness and inability to labor. So much is deemed absolutely essential even to the capitalist and employer, in order that their interests may not suffer. The school of writers referred to profess to find in the human constitution a law which prevents wages from going much beyond this limit. It is said that if they do go much beyond this, the population will multiply so rapidly, and the number of laborers will so greatly increase, that wages will not only fall back to their limit, but that great suffering will ensue.
Most American writers reject this view, though some of them appear to hold opinions logically implying it. Henry C. Carey takes the ground that there is not only no such law, but that there is one of a diametrically opposite character, which as thoroughly coincides with, as this antagonizes, the general provisions of an all-wise and beneficent creator. This law, as developed by Mr. Carey, is substantially that in any community where violence is not done to natural principles in the relations between capitalists and laborers, the share of the latter in the joint product to which both are contributors, is constantly increasing. While at first the capitalist receives much more than half, as time and the development of society go on his proportion is steadily diminishing till it becomes a small fraction of the whole, while that of the laborer is steadily increasing. At the same time, though the _proportion_ of the capitalist is always smaller, the _amount_ is always larger, owing to the always increasing productiveness; and for the same reason both the _proportion_ and the _amount_ received by the labor is enhanced. Evidence of this might be made obvious by comparing the compensation received by laborers in the earlier ages of almost any civilized race as compared with that received in its most advanced stage; and this, too, notwithstanding the vast imperfections under which society has labored and the unnatural conditions to which the laboring classes in all the earlier periods of history have been subjected. In the opinion of some writers this law is one of the grandest and most important of the recent discoveries in political economy.
III. Wages depend upon various considerations. Some of the chief of these are physical ability, greater or less degree of skill, agreeableness or disagreeableness of the work, greater or less difficulty and cost of preparation, constancy or inconstancy of employment, amount of trust involved, intellectual and moral qualities required, social conditions, the character of the government, etc.
There is a distinction to be made between _nominal_ and _real_ wages. The former is the amount of money received for a certain amount of labor. The latter is the amount of useful commodities which that money will purchase. Sometimes a dollar a day is better compensation than a dollar and a half at other times, since in the latter case the dollar and a half may purchase fewer of the necessaries of life than the dollar in the former case.
Men fail sometimes to get a clear understanding of the terms _dear_ labor and _cheap_ labor. A Russian serf at fifty cents a day is dearer than an ordinary American laborer at a dollar and a half, simply because the labor of the latter would be about four or five times as efficient as that of the former. In other words, that labor is the cheapest which will produce the most at the least expense.
The interested and wise laborer will seek information wherever he can find it on the effect of even moderate education on individual wages, (and this he will find to be very considerable); on the sanitary conditions which are best for laborers, the real and ultimate effects of strikes and trades unions, and the advantages and disadvantages of coöperative industry and trade, and the great benefit to be derived from making the laborer a sharer in the profits of any business in which he may be engaged. The employer also would receive great benefit from a careful study of these same questions, as well as from a consideration of the results of paying in all cases not the lowest wages for which labor can be procured, but the highest which he can really afford, since in many cases the quality and quantity of work secured from this cause, more than compensates the extra outlay.
IV. _Profits_ are the share of the product which go to the proprietor or employer. Very often the latter are confounded with the capitalist, and hence arises a like confusion concerning the nature of profits. Among more recent writers a distinct place is assigned to the _employer_, whereas formerly he was practically lost sight of. But in our modern system of industry he is one of the most important, if not actually the most important factor in the system. The capitalist is not necessarily an employer—more frequently than otherwise he is incompetent for this office. Nor is the employer always a capitalist. He is a man who must have the somewhat rare ability to organize and superintend labor so as to get the most possible out of it, and at the same time have such financial talent as will enable him to make the best possible disposition of his means in buying material, etc., and the best possible disposition of his goods in selling. Frequently the capital which he uses is borrowed. Profits, then, are what remains after paying all stipulated wages and salaries, including a fair compensation to the employer himself, together with the material, rent, interest on capital owned or borrowed, taxes, insurance, etc. Obviously no one would assume all the care and responsibility, and incur the risk implied in any considerable business unless something more was likely to come from it to him than what his talent and ability would bring in the way of salary. Sometimes the profit is very small; sometimes, also, it is very great. Free competition will furnish the requisite conditions usually, so that the profits will not be so large as to be disadvantageous to the community generally.
V. _Interest_ depends upon various considerations. That the compensation implied is proper is obvious from the fact that though ostensibly money is that which is loaned, in most cases it is really capital in some other form; and no one denies that when a man lends his horse, or his mill, or his farm, he should receive something for the use of it.
The rate of interest depends upon several conditions: 1. The amount of money in circulation. 2. The amount of other capital. 3. The rate of profit, which again depends upon the industrial system and the state of society; as society develops the rate diminishes. 4. The security or insecurity of property. 5. The facilities with which the securities can be reconverted into money. 6. The promptness and regularity of the payment of the interest. On these last two conditions rests in part the low rate of interest on government bonds.
VI. _Rent_ is intimately connected with the value of land, and land is the most important instrument and condition of wealth. In most countries, other than ours, the land is principally in the possession of a few owners who let it to other parties for agricultural and other purposes, and receive compensation therefor. The amount of compensation depends upon the value of the land. For this latter reason we may treat the whole question of the value of land under the head of rent, though on some accounts it should be considered in another place.
The theory respecting rent which has prevailed in England, and largely in this country for the most of the present century, is that of Ricardo; and closely connected with it is his theory of value. He held that rent arises in this way: On the first settling of a new country, where there is an abundance of more or less fertile land, none of the land has any value. Every man takes as much as he wants, selecting, of course, the most productive. As population increases the best land will be all taken up. Then those who want land must have a poorer quality, or a second grade. Now, one who gets this second quality would rather pay something for the first quality than to have the former for nothing. So when all the land of the second grade is all taken up, and the third quality begins to be occupied, it is deemed more profitable to pay something for the second quality, and still more for the first quality than to have the third for nothing. Closely connected with this theory of rent is that of Malthus concerning population, which is, that there is a law of the uniform increase of population, so that unless artificial checks are applied over-population must, at no distant day, become the condition and bane of humanity. Another theory closely related to both these is that of “diminishing returns,” as stated by J. S. Mill. Substantially this is, that after a certain, not very advanced period in the development of agriculture, a given amount of land will produce less and less in proportion to the labor expended upon it. That is, after a certain degree of culture, a given quantity of land which yields a given quantity of product, while it will produce more if the labor upon it is doubled, will not produce double the former quantity. It follows from these theories, taken in combination, that as men multiply and their wants increase, the provision for those wants proportionately diminishes—a most unnatural and dismal theory, and up to the present time quite contrary to human experience.
A more reasonable, more natural, and far more hopeful doctrine is that developed by Mr. Carey. He declares it altogether untrue that the most productive lands are those first occupied. On the contrary, in the infancy of society men are wholly unable to subdue the richer soils. These must wait till society becomes more numerous and capable of combination. At first only the thinner soils can be cultivated, on account of the feebleness of the inhabitants. Then, as the latter increase in numbers and in the power and art of combination, the deeper and heavier soils can be subdued, and finally, those which are covered with gigantic forests or rich swamps and vast deposits of vegetable mold. These are many times more productive than the soils first cultivated, and thus for a long period proportionately _increasing_ instead of _diminishing_ returns are found to go with the increase of population. There is scarcely any nation, the inhabitants of which have even now cultivated its most productive soil, and it is likely to be some time yet before the theoretical limit of diminishing returns is reached.