In the economic curricula of French universities much greater stress is laid upon the history of economic theory than is the case anywhere else. Attached to the Faculty of Law in each of these universities is a separate chair specially devoted to this subject; at the examination for the doctor’s degree a special paper is set in the history of theory, and if necessary further proof of competence is demanded from the student before his final admission to the degree. At the Sorbonne, where there is only one chair in economics, that chair is exclusively devoted to the history of doctrines, and the same is true of the chair recently founded at the École des Hautes Études.

Such prominence given to the history of theory must seem excessive, especially when it is remembered that in economic history, as distinct from the history of economics, there is not a single chair in the whole of France. Those who believe that the French people are somewhat prone to ideology will not fail to see in this fact a somewhat unfortunate manifestation of that tendency. Elsewhere the positions are reversed, the premier place being given to the study of facts rather than ideas. Extreme partisans of the historical method, especially the advocates of historical materialism, regard doctrines and systems as nothing better than a pale reflection of facts. It is a part of their belief that facts are the only things that matter, and that the history of the evolution of property or the rise of the wage system may prove quite as instructive as the history of the controversies concerning the nature of the right of property or the wages-fund theory.

Such views as we have just expressed, however, are not altogether devoid of exaggeration, though of a kind directly opposite to that which we would naturally impute to them. The influence exerted by the economic environment, whence even the most abstract economist gets material for reflection and the exercise of his logical acumen, is indisputable. The problems which the theorist has to solve are suggested by the rise of certain phenomena which at one moment cut a very prominent figure and at another disappear altogether. Such problems must vary in different places and at different times. The peculiar economic condition in which England found herself at the beginning of the nineteenth century had a great deal to do in directing Ricardo’s thought to the study of the problems of rent and note issue. But for the advent of machinery, with the subsequent increase in industrial activity and the parallel growth of a proletarian class, followed by the recurrence of economic crises, we may be certain that neither the doctrine of Sismondi nor that of Karl Marx would ever have seen the light of day. It is equally safe to assume that the attention which economists have recently bestowed upon the theory of monopoly is not altogether unconnected with the contemporary development of the trust movement.

But, while recognising all this, it is important that we should remember that facts alone are not sufficient to explain the origin of any doctrines, even those of social politics, and still less those of a purely scientific character. Ideas even are not independent of time and place. Similar conditions in the same epoch of history have not infrequently given rise to heterogeneous and even antagonistic theories—J. B. Say’s and Sismondi’s, for example, Bastiat’s and Proudhon’s, Schulze-Delitzsch’s and Marx’s, Francis Walker’s and those of Henry George. With what combination of historical circumstances are we to connect Cournot’s foundation of the Mathematical school in France, or how are we to account for the simultaneous discovery in three or four countries of the theory of final utility?

Although anxious not to seem to make any extravagant claims for the superiority of the history of theory, we are not ashamed of repeating our regrets for the comparative neglect of economic history, and we are equally confident in claiming for our subject the right to be regarded as a distinct branch of the science.[1] We shall accordingly omit all reference to the history of economic facts and institutions except in so far as such reference seems indispensable to an understanding of either the appearance or disappearance of such and such a doctrine or to the better appreciation of the special prominence which a theory may have held at one moment, although it is quite unintelligible to us to-day. Sometimes even the facts are connected with the doctrines, not as causes, but as results, for, notwithstanding the scepticism of Cournot, who was wont to declare that the influence exerted by economists upon the course of events was about equal to the influence exerted by grammarians upon the development of language, it is impossible not to see a connection between the commercial treaties of 1860, say, and the teachings of the Manchester school, or between labour legislation and the doctrine of State Socialism.

To write a history of economic doctrines which should not exceed the limits of a single volume was to attempt an almost impossible task, and the authors cannot pretend that they have accomplished such a difficult feat. Even a very summary exposition of such doctrines as could not possibly be neglected involved the omission of others of hardly less importance.

But in the first place it was possible to pass over the pioneers by taking the latter part of the eighteenth century as the starting-point. There is no doubt that the beginnings of economic science lie in a remoter past, but the great currents of economic thought known as the “schools” only began with the appearance of those two typical doctrines, individualism and socialism, in the earlier half of the nineteenth century.[2] Moreover, the omission is easily made good, for it so happens that the earlier periods are those most fully dealt with in such works as have already appeared on the subject. For the period of antiquity we have the writings of Espinas[3] and Souchon; the mediÆval and post-mediÆval periods, right up to the eighteenth century, are treated of in the works of Dubois and Rambaud; while, in addition to these, we have the writings of Ashley, Ingram, Hector Denis, Brants, and Cossa, to mention only a few. Modern theories, as contrasted with those of the earlier periods, have received comparatively little attention.

Not only have we been obliged to confine our attention to certain periods, but we have also had to restrict ourselves to certain countries. We would claim the indulgence of those of our readers who feel that French doctrines have been considered at disproportionate length, reminding them that we had French students chiefly in view when writing. Each author is at liberty to do the same for his own particular country, and it is better so, for readers generally desire to learn more about those things of which they already know something. But, despite the prominence given to France, England and Germany were bound to receive considerable attention, although in the case of the latter country we had to make considerable omissions. With regard to the other countries, which we were too often obliged to pass by in silence or to mention only very casually in connection with some theory or other, we are most anxious not to appear indifferent to the eminent services rendered by them, and especially Italy and the United States, to the cause of economic science, both in the past and in the present.

But, notwithstanding such restrictions, the field was still too wide, and we were obliged to focus attention on the minimum number of names and ideas, with a view to placing them in a better light. Our ambition has been, not to write as full or detailed a history as we possibly could, but merely to draw a series of pictures portraying the more prominent features of some of the more distinct epochs in the history of economic doctrines.

Such choice must necessarily be somewhat arbitrary, for it is not always an easy matter to fix upon the best representative of each doctrine. Especially is this the case in a science like economics, where the writers, unknown to one another, not infrequently repeat the same ideas, and it becomes a matter of some difficulty to decide the claim to priority. But although it may be difficult to hit upon the exact moment at which a certain idea first made its appearance, it is comparatively easy to determine when such an idea attracted general attention or took its place in the hierarchy of accepted or scarcely disputed truths. This has been our criterion. With regard to those whose names do not figure in our list, although quite worthy of a place in the front rank, we cannot believe that they will suffer much through this temporary eclipse, especially in view of the partiality of the age for the pioneers. That we are not unduly optimistic in this matter may be inferred from the numerous attempts recently made to discover the poetÆ minores of the science, and to make amends for the scant justice done them by the more biased historians of the past.

Not only was selection necessary in the case of authors, but a similar procedure had to be applied to the doctrines. It must be realised, however, that a selection of this character does not warrant the conclusion that the doctrines dealt with are in any way superior to those which are not included, either from the standpoint of moral value, of social utility, or of abstract truth, for we are not of the number who think with J. B. Say that the history of error can serve no useful purpose.[4] We would rather associate ourselves with Condillac when he remarks: “It is essential that everyone who wishes to make some progress in the search for truth should know something of the mistakes committed by people like himself who thought they were extending the boundaries of knowledge.” The study of error would be thoroughly well justified even though the result were simply a healthy determination to avoid it in future. It would be even more so if Herbert Spencer’s version of the saying of Shakespeare, that there is no species of error without some germ of truth in it, should prove correct. One cannot, moreover, be said to possess a knowledge of any doctrine or to understand it until one knows something of its history, and of the pitfalls that lay in the path of those who first formulated it. A truth received as if it has fallen from the sky, without any knowledge of the efforts whereby it has been acquired, is like an ingot of gold got without toil—of little profit.

Moreover, it is to be remembered that this book is intended primarily for students, and that it may be useful to show them in what respects certain doctrines are open to criticism, either from the point of view of logic or of observation. We have attempted to confine such criticism within the strictest limits, partly because we did not wish the volume to become too bulky, and partly because we felt that what is important for our readers are not our own opinions, but the opinions of the masters of the science with which we deal. Wherever possible these have been given the opportunity of speaking for themselves, and for this reason we have not been afraid to multiply quotations.

A special effort has been made to bring into prominence such doctrines—whether true or false—as have contributed to the formation of ideas generally accepted at the present time, or such as are connected with these in the line of direct descent. In other words, the book is an attempt to give an answer to the following questions: Who is responsible for formulating those principles that constitute the framework—whether provisionary or definitive it is not for us to determine—of economics as at present taught? At what period were these principles first enunciated, and what were the circumstances which accounted for their enunciation just at that period? Thus we have thought it not altogether out of place to pay some attention to those ideas which, although only on the borderland of economics, have exercised considerable influence either upon theory itself, upon legislation, or upon economic thought in general. We refer to such movements as Christian Socialism, Solidarism, and Anarchism. Had we considered it advisable to retain the official title by which this kind of work is generally known, we should have had to describe it as A History of the Origin and Evolution of Contemporary Economic Doctrines.

The plan of a history of this kind was a matter that called for some amount of deliberation. It was felt that, being a history, fairly close correspondence with the chronological order was required, which meant either taking a note of every individual doctrine, or breaking up the work into as many distinct histories as there are separate schools. The former procedure would necessitate giving a review of a great number of doctrines in a single chapter, which could only have the effect of leaving a very confused impression upon the reader’s mind. The alternative proposal is open to the objection that, instead of giving us a general outline, it merely treats us to a series of monographs, which prevents our realising the nature of that fundamental unity that in all periods of history binds every doctrine together, similar and dissimilar alike. We have attempted to avoid the inconveniences and to gain something of the advantages offered by these alternative methods by grouping the doctrines into families according to their descent, and presenting them in their chronological order. This does not mean that we have classified them according to the date of their earliest appearance; it simply means that we have taken account of such doctrines as have reached a certain degree of maturity. There is always some culminating-point in the history of every doctrine, and in deciding to devote a separate chapter to some special doctrine we have always had such a climacteric in mind. Nor have we scrupled to abandon the chronological order when the exigencies of the exposition seemed to demand it.

The first epoch comprises the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth centuries. It deals mainly with the founders of Classical political economy, with the Physiocrats, Smith and Say, and with Malthus and Ricardo, the two writers whose gloomy forebodings were to cloud the glory of the “natural order.”

The second epoch covers the first half of the nineteenth century. The “adversaries” include all those writers who either challenged or in some way disputed the principles which had been laid down by their predecessors. To these writers five chapters are devoted, dealing respectively with Sismondi, Saint-Simon, the Associative Socialists, List, and Proudhon.

A third epoch deals with the middle of the nineteenth century and the triumph of the Liberal school, which had hitherto withstood every attack, though not without making some concessions. It so happened that the fundamental doctrines of this school were definitely formulated about the same time, though in a very different fashion, of course, in the Principles of Stuart Mill in England and the Harmonies of Bastiat in France.

The second half of the nineteenth century constitutes a fourth period. Those who dissented from the Liberalism of the previous epoch are responsible for the schisms that began to manifest themselves in four different directions at this time. The Historical school advocates the employment of the inductive method, and the State Socialists press the claims of a new social policy. Marxism is an attack upon the scientific basis of the science, and Christian Socialism a challenge to its ethical implications.

A fifth epoch comprises the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth. The heading “Recent Doctrines” includes several theories that are already well known to us, but which seem transfigured—or disfigured, as some would prefer to put it—in their new surroundings. The Hedonistic doctrine and the theory of rent represent a kind of revision of the Classical theories. Solidarism is an attempt to bridge the gap that exists between individualism and socialism, whilst Anarchism can only be described as a kind of impassioned Liberalism.

This order of succession must not be taken to imply that each antecedent doctrine has either been eliminated by some subsequent doctrine or else incorporated in it. The rise of the Historical school in the middle of the nineteenth century, for example, happened to be contemporaneous with the triumph of the Liberal school and the revival of Optimism. In a similar fashion the new Liberalism of the Austrian school was coincident with the advent of State intervention and the rise of Collectivism.

We cannot, however, help noticing a certain rhythmical sequence in this evolutionary process. Thus we find the Classical doctrine, as it is called, outlined in the earliest draft of the science, but disappearing under the stress of more or less socialistic doctrines, to reappear in a new guise later on. There is no necessity for regarding this as a mere ebb and flow such as distinguishes the fortunes of political parties under a parliamentary rÉgime. Such alternation in the history of a doctrine has its explanation not so much in the character of the doctrine itself as in the favour of public opinion, which varies with the fickleness of the winds of heaven.

But doctrines and systems have a vitality of their own which is altogether independent of the vagaries of fashion. It were better to regard their history, like all histories of ideas, as a kind of struggle for existence. At one moment conflicting doctrines seem to dwell in harmony side by side, content to divide the empire of knowledge between them. Another moment witnesses them rushing at each other with tumultuous energy. It may happen that in the course of the struggle some of the doctrines are worsted and disappear altogether. But more often than not their conflicting interests are reconciled and the enmity is lost in the unity of a higher synthesis. And so it may happen that a doctrine which everybody thought was quite dead may rise with greater vigour than ever.

The bibliography of the subject is colossal. In addition to the general histories, which are already plentiful, the chapters devoted to the subject in every treatise on political economy, and the numerous articles which have appeared in various reviews, there is scarcely an author, however obscure, who is not the subject of a biography. To have attempted to enumerate all these works would merely have meant increasing the bulk of the book without being able to pretend that our list was exhaustive. It is scarcely necessary to add that this meant that we had to confine ourselves to the work done by the “heroes” of this volume. Their commentators and critics only came in for our attention when we had to borrow either an expression or an idea directly from them or when we felt it necessary that the reader should fill up the gaps left by our exposition. This accounts for the number of names which had to be relegated to the foot-notes. But such deliberate excision must not prevent our recognising at the outset the debt that we owe to the many writers who have traversed the ground before us. They have facilitated our task and have a perfect right to regard themselves as our collaborators. We feel certain that they will find that their labours have not been ignored or forgotten.

Although this book, so far as the general task of preparation and revision is concerned, must be regarded as the result of a collective effort on the part of the two authors whose names are subjoined, the actual work of composition was undertaken by each writer separately. The Contents will sufficiently indicate the nature of this division of labour.

The authors refuse to believe that collaboration in the production of a scientific history of ideas need imply absolute agreement on every question that comes up for consideration. Especially is this the case with the doctrines of political and social economy outlined herein; each of the authors has retained the fullest right of independent judgment on all these matters. Consequently any undue reserve or any extravagant enthusiasm shown for some of these doctrines must be taken as an expression of the personal predilection of the signatory of the particular article.

CHARLES GIDE

CHARLES RIST