1821.]
Mr. URBAN,

M

Ricardo on National Debt improved.

Jan. 16. R. RICARDO's plan is known, in substance, to be simply thisa forced loan of very large amount, by which several millions of stock shall be purchased. There are two objections to this plan one, that it is a sacrifice of capital; and another, that the money requisite for the purpose could not be procured.

That some measure, and that a strong one, will soon be requisite, in relation to our finances, is manifest; for the Revenue is upon the decline. The system of forcing prices is illusive; and the relief to the people most ad. vantageous, and to the Ministers most gratifying, is the reduction of Taxation. Now, Sir, though I am fully aware of the force of the term Project, I beg to propose a commutation, which will be absolutely beneficial, and attack no capital whatever. It is the method similar to that by which estates are recovered from mortages during minority of the heir; and, in principle, though not in form, daily practised by prudent persons.

The object of the plan is to esta. blish a powerful sinking fund, which implies no additional taxation; and, only once during life, a forced loan, not out of capital, but income. That it would be efficient, I know, from the following instance. About thirtyfive years since, a Gentleman left an estate (about three or five hundred a year, I do not recollect which), to a College, because it was so mortgaged that to his heirs it would be worth nothing. The Society immediately applied a thousand pounds from the College funds to commence the redemption of the estate; and by judicious management ever since, without any further advance, have not only cleared the estate, but with the proceeds have bought some valuable livings at least, if not made other accessions to their income.

I propose, then, that every heir, upon acceding to the property of a father, or other relative (whether such property be in lands, funds, or mortgages, or other real securities), shall give up to the State one half of a year's income, payable either at once or by instalments within three years; and that svery placeman and beneficed Clergyman shall also give, if the income be a thousand a year, a fourth;

39

if nine hundred, a fifth; if eight hundred, a sixth; and so on, in scale, of one year's income. All sums so accruing to the State to be absolutely applied to the purchase of four and five per cent. stock, in preference, if the market proves purchase in such stocks to be equally advantageous to the State.

My next proposition is equally simple. Gentlemen of landed property do not commonly receive more than two and a half per cent. from their estates. I therefore propose, that they shall, for a certain number of years, pay one half of their annual income to Government; and receive for every 1007. sterling, 1007. 3 per cent. consols.; by which exchange they would gain a bonus of 10s. per cent.: those who refused such commutation to be subject to a property. tax of ten per cent. upon their whole income; a measure absolutely neces rary, because a lawyer would sug gest, if you are obliged to spare one half of a year's income, I will get you security on mortgage at five per cent. If, however, one half be thought too much, it might be mitigated, but the reduction of taxation would be slower, and also the rise of rents in conse quence. Of this subject further on.

Government having a power of paying off the four or five per cents. at par, it is evident, that for every 1007. sterling, they must, at least, save 17. interest per annum ; but, as the four or fives would, in the event of this or a similar measure, advance to this 1007. by an unnatural aid of the market, absolutely factitious, it would be but fair that one half of such gain should be contributed to Government; e. g. when the three per cents. are at 69, the proper market price of the fours is 92. If, therefore, the price is forcibly elevated to 100, it is evident that the eight pounds are created by artificial circumstances; and that, if 4l. of it be contributed to Government, the other four is an absolute bonus to the stockholder, which, in the present state of things, he could not obtain at all.

As, upon reduction of the stock, the remainder would, according to the common course of things, rise in value, an estimate might be taken of the price of every 1001. 3 per cents. on the first of January every year;

and,

40

Ricardo on National Debt improved.

and, if such stock had risen in value, on the same day, in the following year, a contribution might fairly be demanded by Government, which contribution, as to amount, might be formed on a scale adapted to the quantum of the rise during the year.

It has been said, that the stockholder ought also to contribute; but the mode of doing this, without embracing the ineligible form of a property-tax, or reducing the interest, is not easily to be discovered. The principle of the present essay is commutation with a bonus, except in one instance during life of a contribution from income. Much might be done by a proper consideration of what are, and what are not, the consequences of fixing a legal standard of interest, or leaving it to take its free course. When stocks are at 42, the interest paid for every 1007. is 77. 2s. 10d.; when at 69, only 47. 6s. 11d.; if at 81, only 37. 148. The latter never ensues but under excess of capital. As a measure of security to Government, the standard of legal interest, in regard to mortgages and private securities, should be the quantum of interest paid by the funds for every 1007. at the time of signing such mortgage deed or security; and so follow the progress of the funds, as the interest rises or falls; for nothing can be more plain than that, when, the three per cents. are at 81, and the annual interest only 31. 148. the mortgagee, who offers five per cent. bids against Government, 268. per cent; and it is equally clear, that when the three per cents. are at 42, and interest for every 1007. 77. 2s. 10d. the mortgagee loses 21. 28. 10d. per cent. These facts are plain, and show that a permanent standard of interest, in reference to an article of variable value, mutually injures both parties. In time of War, more can be made of capital than in time of Peace; and a man who lends 1007. in the former

[Jan.

of Peace. The high price of the funds, when interest is therefore low, acts in favour of the mortgagee; and Government, whose interest it is to raise the funds as high as possible, by fixing a legal standard of interest at 51. per cent., actually presents the mortgagee with a bounty of 268. per cent. against itself, when the funds are at 81, and pay only 37. 14s. per cent annual interest. If, therefore, the standard interest should continue at 5 per cent, Government might in future equitably demand, as a property-tax, at least one half of all such sums as, in virtue of the enactment of 5 per cent. exceed the interest paid for 100%. sterling in the funds; that is to say, stocks pay 5 per cent. at 60 in the 3 per cent. consols; but when they exceed that sum, the interest falls, and the mortgagee becomes a double gainer. When these stocks are at 60, the value of land is only 20 years purchase; but when they are at 81, then the value is 27 years purchase. Thus the security is improved considerably, and the interest forced up to 51. from 31. 14s. in times of peace, when money is absolutely of less value, because less can be made of it. Thus a premium, inviting capitalists to vest their money in mort gage is unwisely held out by Government, in abatement of their own securities.

These ideas are only to be considered as hints, improvable, it is trusted, in the hands of skilful financiers. They are intended, if possible, to suggest a mode more palatable and practicable than that of Mr. Ricardo, to whose high talents in political economy the Author owes the base of his ideas.

Yours, &c.

Mr. URBAN,

ACTUARIUS.

Jan. 18.

state of things for 77. 28. 10d. interest, ACCIDENTALLY looking into

loses more interest than he does by lending the same 1007. for 37. 148. in time of Peace; because, in the War period, he can acquire an indefinite profit, by contracts and commerce in other articles of sure demand, in such quantities as to baffle competition; but he has no such advantage in time

Mr. Bourn's Gazetteer, I saw that Farinelli, for the first ten years of his residence in Spain, used to sing every night to Philip the Vtb, the same four airs.

Can you, Mr. Urban, or any of your intelligent Readers inform me what these airs were?

Yours, &c. A CONSTANT READER.

I frequently mentioned the enter- land, and recommenced his hydrau

42

REVIEW.-Belzoni's Travels in Egypt, &c. [Jan.

unique and invaluable. A remarkable instance of his strength is recorded in his book just published, which contains a fund of valuable information, simply but expressively told. He had been employed for several days with a party of Arabs in uplifting out of its sandy bed the statue of "Young Memnon," (as the antiquaries terin it,) and having laid open in the work several massive fragments of pillars, he handled them about with such ease in the presence of the astonished and comparatively feeble Arabs, that they fled from him in dismay, and said, "the Devil" had got among them.

We will now introduce a few extracts from the work itself.

When our traveller was conducted to the place where the sarcophagus was to be found, the account is very curious and romantic. He entered with two Arabs and an Interpreter, whilst a Janissary remained without. He thus relates his subterranean adventure:

"Previous to our entering the cave, we took off the greater part of our clothes, and, each having a candle, advanced through a cavity in the rock, which extended a considerable length in the mountain, sometimes pretty high, sometimes very narrow, and without any regularity. In some passages we were obliged to creep on the ground, like crocodiles. I perIceived, that we were at a great distance from the entrance, and the way was so intricate, that I depended entirely on the two Arabs, to conduct us out again. At length we arrived at a large space, into which many other holes or cavities opened; aud after some consideration and examination by the two Arabs, we entered one of these, which was very narrow, and continued downward for a long way, through a craggy passage, till we came where two other apertures led to the interior in a horizontal direction. One of the Arabs then said, this is the place.' I could not conceive how so large a sarcophagus, as had been described to me, could have been taken through the aperture which the Arab now pointed out. 1 had no doubt but these recesses were burial places, as we continually walked over skulls and other bones; but the sarcophagus could never have entered this recess; for it was so narrow, that, on my attempt to penetrate it, I could not pass. One of the Arabs, however, succeeded, as did my interpreter; and it was agreed, that I and the other Arab should wait till they returned. They proceeded evidently to a great distance, for the light disap

peared, and only a murmuring sound from their voices could be distinguished as they went on. After a few moments I heard a loud noise, and the interpreter distinctly crying, O mon Dieu! mon Dieu! je suis perdu!" After which a profound silence

one.

ensued. I asked my Arab, whether he had ever been in that place? He replied, 'Never.' I could not conceive what could have happened, and thought the best plan was to return, to procure help from the other Arabs. Accordingly, I told my man to show me the way out again; but, staring at me like an ideot, he said he did not know the road. I called repeatedly to the interpreter, but received no answer; I watched a long time, but no one returned : and my situation was no very pleasant I naturally returned through the passages, by which we had come; and, after some time, I succeeded in reaching the place, where, as I mentioned, were many other cavities. It was a complete labyrinth, as all these places bore a great resemblance to the one which we first entered. At last, seeing one which appeared to be the right, we proceeded through it a long way; but by this time our candles had diminished considerably, and I feared that if we did not get out soon, we should have to remain in the dark; meantime it would have been dangerous to put one out to save the other, lest that which was left should, by some accident, be extinguished. At this time we were considerably advanced towards the outside, as we thought; but to our sorrow we found the end of that cavity without any outlet. Convinced that we were mistaken in our conjecture, we quickly returned towards the place of the various entries, which we strove to regain. But we were then as perplexed as ever, and were both exhausted from the ascents and descents, which we had been obliged to go over. The Arab seated himself; but every moment of delay was dangerous. The only expedient was, to put a mark at the place out of which we had just come, and then examine the cavities in succession, by putting also a mark at their entrance, so as to know where we had been. Unfortunately, our candles would not last through the whole; however, we began our operations.

"On the second attempt, when passing before a small aperture, I thought I heard the sound of something like the roaring of the sea at a distance. In consequence I entered this cavity; and, as we advanced, the noise increased, till I could distinctly hear a number of voices all at one time. At last, thank God, we walked out; and, to my no small surprize, the first person E saw was my interpreter. How he came to be there I could not conjecture. He told me, that in proceeding with the Arab along the passage below, they came to a pit, which they did not see; that the Arab

fell

1821.]

REVIEW.-Belzoni's Travels in Egypt, &c.

fell into it, and, in falling, put out both candles. It was then that he cried out Mon Dieu! je suis perdu !' as he thought he also should have fallen into the pit; but, on raising his head, he saw at a great distance a glimpse of day-light, towards which be advanced, and thus arrived at a small aperture. He then scraped away some loose sand and stones, to widen the place where he came out, and went to give the alarm to the Arabs, who were at the other entrance. Being all concerned for the man who fell to the bottom of the pit, it was their noise that I heard in the cave. The place by which my interpreter got out was instantly widened, and in the confusion the Arabs did not regard letting me see that they were acquainted with that entrance, and that it had lately been shut up. I was not long in detecting their scheme. The Arabs had intended to show me the sarcophagus, without letting me see the way by which it might be taken out, and then to stipulate a price for the secret. It was with this view they took me such a way round about."

43

worse; at sea, storms are met with; in the desert, there cannot be a greater storm than to find a dry well; at sea, one meets with pirates-we escape-we surrenderwe die; in the desert they rob the traveller of all his property and water; they let him live, perhaps, but what a life! to die the most barbarous and agonizing death. In short, to be thirsty in a desert, without water, exposed to the burning sun, without shelter, and no hopes of finding either, is the most terrible situation that a man can be placed in; and, I believe, one of the greatest sufferings that a human being can sustain; the eyes grow inflamed, the tongue and lips swell; a hollow sound is heard in the ears, which brings on deafness, and the brains appear to grow thick and inflamed; all these feelings arise from the want of a little water. In the midst of all this misery, the deceitful morasses appear before the traveller at no great distance, something like a lake or river of clear fresh water. The deception of this phenomenon is well known, as I mentioned before; but it does not fail to Such are the difficulties our adven- invite the longing traveller towards that turous traveller encountered in his of the happines of being on such a spot. element, and to put him in remembrance various researches. He describes, in If, perchance, a traveller is not undeceivthe most forcible manner, the deplored, he hastens his pace to reach it sooner; able miseries to which the traveller is exposed, in passing over the arid sands of the Arabian wilds. As this is a subject which has ever excited the most intense interest in our minds, even from our earliest years, the account which Belzoni gives will be perused with the most sympathetic emotions. The miseries of the Desert are thus forcibly described:

"Many perish victims of the most horrible thirst. It is then that the value of a cup of water is really felt. He that has a zensabia of it is the richest of all. In such a case there is no distinction; if the master has none, the servant will not give it to him; for very few are the instances where a man will voluntarily lose his life to save that of another, particularly in a caravan in the desert, where people are strangers to each other. What a sitnation for a man, though a rich one, perhaps the owner of all the caravans! He is dying for a cup of water-no one gives it to him -be offers all he possesses-no one hears him-they are all dying-though by walking a few hours farther they might be saved; the camels are lying down, and cannot be made to rise-no one has strength to walk-only he that has a glass of that precious liqnor lives to walk a mile farther, and perhaps dies too. If the voyages on seas are dangerous, so are those in the deserts: at sea, the provisions very often fail; in the desert it is

the more he advances towards it, the more it goes from him, till at last it vanishes entirely, and the deluded passenger often asks where is the water he saw at no great distance; he can scarcely believe that he was so deceived; he protests that he saw the waves running before the wind, and the reflection of the high rocks in the water.

"If, unfortunately, any one falls sick on the road, there is no alternative; he must endure the fatigue of travelling on a camel, which is troublesome even to healthy people, or he must be left behind on the sand, without any assistance, and remain so till a slow death come to relieve him. What horror! What a brutal proceeding to an unfortunate sick man! No one remains with him, not even his old and faithful servant: no one will stay and die with him; all pity his fate, but no one will be his companion. Why not stop the whole caravan till he is better, or do what they can for the best, till he dies? No, this delay cannot be; it will put all in danger of perishing of thirst, if they do not reach the next well in such a time; besides, they are all different parties, generally of merchants or travellers, who will not only refuse to put themselves in danger, but will not even wait a few hours to save the life of an individual, whether they know him or not.

"In contrast to the evil, there is the luxury of the Desert and also its sport, which is generally at the well; there one enjoys all the delight of drinking as much

water