According to the doctrine which the present work aspires to establish, the answer is categorical. It consists of a peremptory ‹yes›. The proprietor ‹has› rendered me a service. What is it? This, that he has by himself, or his ancestor, cleared and enclosed the field—he has cleared it of weeds and stagnant water—he has enriched and thickened the vegetable mould—he has built a house and a homestead. All this presupposes much labour executed by him in person; or, what comes to the same thing, by others whom he has paid. These are services, certainly, which, according to the just law of reciprocity, must be reimbursed to him. Now, this proprietor has never been remunerated, at least to the full extent. He cannot be so by the first man who comes to buy from him a bag of corn. What is the arrangement, then, that takes place? Assuredly the most ingenious, the most legitimate, the most equitable arrangement which it is possible to imagine. It consists in this—That whoever wishes to purchase a sack of corn shall pay, besides the services of the various labourers whom we have enumerated, a small portion of the ‹services› rendered by the proprietor. In other words, the ‹Value› of the proprietor’s ‹services› is spread over all the sacks of corn which are produced by this field. Now, it may be asked if the supposed remuneration of four francs be too great or too small. I answer that Political Economy has nothing to do with that. That science establishes that the value of the services rendered by the landed proprietor are regulated by exactly the same laws as the value of other services, and that is enough. It may be a subject of surprise, too, that this bit-by-bit reimbursement should not at length amount to a complete liquidation, and, consequently, to an extinction of the proprietor’s claim. They who make this objection do not reflect that it is of the nature of Capital to produce a perpetual return, as we shall see in the sequel. I shall not dwell longer on that question in this place; and shall [p163] simply remark, that there is not in the entire price of the corn a single farthing which does not go to remunerate human services,—not one which corresponds to the ‹value› that nature is supposed to have given to the corn by imparting to it ‹utility›. But if, adhering to the principle of Say and the English Economists, you assert that, of the sixteen francs, there are twelve which go to the labourers, sowers, reapers, carters, etc.—two which recompense the personal services of the proprietor; and finally, that there are two others which represent a value which has for its foundation the ‹utility› created by God, by natural agents, and without any co-operation of man, do you not perceive that you immediately lay yourself open to be asked, Who is to profit by this portion of ‹value›? Who has a title to this remuneration? Nature does not demand it, and who dare take nature’s place.