for there will be no money advanced, and not one single kind of labour can be mentioned, not even the chase, which can be pursued without money in hand.  And, as for ourselves, what would become of us?  What! we are not to be allowed to borrow, in order to work in the prime of life, nor to lend, that we may enjoy repose in its decline?  The law will rob us of the prospect of laying by a little property, because it will prevent us from gaining any advantage from it.  It will deprive us of all stimulus to save at the present time, and of all hope of repose for the future.  It is useless to exhaust ourselves with fatigue:  we must abandon the idea of leaving our sons and daughters a little property, since modern science renders it useless, for we should become traffickers in men if we were to lend it on interest.  Alas! the world which these persons would open before us, as an imaginary good, is still more dreary and desolate than that which they condemn, for hope, at any rate, is not banished from the latter.”  Thus, in all respects, and in every point of view, the question is a serious one.  Let us hasten to arrive at a solution.

Our civil code has a chapter entitled, “On the manner of transmitting property.”  I do not think it gives a very complete nomenclature on this point.  When a man by his labour has made some useful thing—­in other words, when he has created a value—­it can only pass into the hands of another by one of the following modes—­as a gift, by the right of inheritance, by exchange, loan, or theft.  One word upon each of these, except the last, although it plays a greater part in the world than we may think.  A gift needs no definition.  It is essentially voluntary and spontaneous.  It depends exclusively upon the giver, and the receiver cannot be said to have any right to it.  Without a doubt, morality and religion make it a duty for men, especially the rich, to deprive themselves voluntarily of that which they possess, in favour of their less fortunate brethren.  But this is an entirely moral obligation.  If it were to be asserted on principle, admitted in practice, or sanctioned by law, that every man has a right to the property of another, the gift would have no merit—­charity and gratitude would be no longer virtues.  Besides, such a doctrine would suddenly and universally arrest labour and production, as severe cold congeals water and suspends animation; for who would work if there was no longer to be any connection between labour and the satisfying of our wants?  Political economy has not treated of gifts.  It has hence been concluded that it disowns them, and that it is therefore a science devoid of heart.  This is a ridiculous accusation.  That science which treats of the laws resulting from the reciprocity of services, had no business to inquire into the consequences of generosity with respect to him who receives, nor into its effects, perhaps still more precious, on him who gives:  such considerations belong evidently to the science of morals.  We must allow the sciences to have limits; above all, we must not accuse them of denying or undervaluing what they look upon as foreign to their department.