G. You would ascertain your income; then provide for your family, and then apply the surplus to what you thought most expedient.

P. Yes; and I would judge of this expedience, by estimating the object of my pursuit, and by comparing my own means to obtain it. Can I spare so much, and is the purchase worth what I can spare? These questions, simple and easy as they are in little matters, become extremely difficult in large, complex, political cases; and hence the absolute necessity of a minister's attention to all and every source of information, and particularly to popular parliamentary investigation, for the people are most likely to know what they can afford to part with. What millions of publick money have been spent to purchase nothing, or worse than nothing, guilt and infamy.

G. You mean in war, I suppose. How mortifying is the thought! The most bloody and expensive wars in the world have been about things of no importance.

P. Ah! there lies the ruinous mischief, war! Bella, horrida bella!

G. So they said two thousand years ago, yet we go on!

P. Who go on? It is not the people the crime lies elsewhere. As there are very few just wars, and very few disputes worth the blood and treasure spent to decide them, so there are very few nations that can afford long to support them, because there are very few governors of nations that place the felicity of the executive power in the com

merce and wealth, the freedom and happiness of the people.

G. Is there no way of simplifying taxation so as to ascertain what a nation can afford to spend in wars and disputes?

P. I have thought it not impossible, especially if we advert to the nature of our taxes; this is a third point of light in which they may be considered. G. Of what nature are they?

P. I mean to distinguish between principal and interest. The principal is borrowed and spent, and the taxes are mortgaged to pay the creditors; or to familiarize the matter, what can our neighbour Sir Richard afford to spend in law suits? You know his condition; he has a good estate, a part is his lady's jointure, the rest is mortgaged to pay the interest of money which he has borrowed and spent. Suppose his lady's jointure to support his family, and if you please resemble this to our civil list. Suppose his rents to yield more than will pay the interest of the mortgage, and resemble this to the surplus remaining after the creditors of the public are paid: this surplus is the whole in either case, that can be spared for litigation, and this ought not to be applied to such a purpose till the mortgage is lessened, if not paid off.

G. Suppose the nation at peace, and wholly or nearly out of debt?

P. I doubt whether, if it could be, it would be prudent now wholly to discharge the national debt: but even in such a case, I should imagine, that so much as the balance of foreign trade was in our

favour, and no more, could we, strictly speaking, afford to expend in foreign disputes and wars. Happy, too happy, if we could accumulate wealth, till we could afford to lend other nations on proper security, and so attach them to our interest!

G. If this point of light be not just, it is at least pleasing.

P. There is a pretty sure criterion of judging of the balance of foreign trade, that is, by the course of exchange, and it is very certain the annual expence ought not to exceed the annual revenue.

G. Have we exceeded this?

P. We have exceeded it beyond belief. The national supplies, which have been raised within the last hundred years, that is, from the accession of William and Mary, 1688, to the present time, exceed the sum of five hundred millions, and of this enormous sum, almost two hundred millions are funded, * and we are loaded with perpetual taxes to pay the interest; and this in several capital articles not for the dignity or safety of the nation, but for purposes ignorant or atrocious.

G. How are the people brought to consent to such ruinous measures?

P. This is the fourth light I view taxation in, the method of obtaining the peoples' money. We mentioned just now our neighbour, Sir Richard. G. We did.

P. Sir Richard had once a thrifty steward, a man of real business and integrity, who so managed the estate as to supply all his master's real wants, and to maintain his rank with dignity. Old

* The funded debt is now (1805) six hundred millions!

Solomon, the Jew, who had accumulated a great sum of money in trade, and wanted to make an exorbitant interest of it with good security, contrived to insinuate himself into the favour of Sir Richard, and in short induced him to part with his steward, and to place in his office a man of great dissipation and of no management. What Solomon expected came to pass. The estate neg

lected did not yield, and the family all dissipated and extravagant, required more as the revenue became less, and presently all were in want of money. Solomon's eldest son gravely offered to befriend his neighbour in distress, and lent large, sums to supply present exigencies, requiring nothing, good honest man, except proper security in case of death; and some discounts because he must put himself to great inconveniencies to advance large sums at short notice, especially upon securities that would not yield for some time. In brief, Solomon became the friend of the family; favours, privileges, and douceurs were heaped upon him, and his friendship has nearly completed the ruin of all the family.

G. Who was most to blame, Solomon or the steward?

P. Solomon and steward were satan and sinner: but Sir Richard himself was most to blame for not looking into his affairs. He should either have done this himself, or frequently have examined and audited his steward.

G. Suffer me not to misunderstand you, Sir. You think Great Britain an estate that belongs to the people?

P. Certainly I do. I have so many acres of land, and you have a street of houses, one of your uncles has merchandize, and another corn, cattle, wool, money, and so on.

G. And you think there are many Solomons in Great Britain, who have no notions of right and wrong, and whose whole science is gain and loss?

P. Undoubtedly I do. Multitudes of such men live upon the publick spoil. Solomon's Rabbi flatters him, his solicitor glosses for him, his attorney puzzles, and his porter and Sir Richard's gamekeeper bully for him, his tradesmen and servants all contrive to please him for the same glorious reason, for which he humours Sir Richard, that is, because they gain by doing so.

G. The evil lies then in our public stewards, our representatives, for they need not ruin us to enrich this class of men.

P. No, the evil lies in yourselves; you should look into your own affairs, audit your steward's accounts once a year, and change hands 'till you get good and capable men.

G. Suppose we have not virtue to do so?

P. There wants no virtue; sense of shame is enough. The fear of bankruptcy generally makes the indolent industrious, and the drunken sober: when it does not their condition is desperate.

G. In what other light do you view taxation, Sir?

P. I consider the manner of laying and collecting them.

G. Taxes ought to be laid and collected in the