They are but short-sighted Economists who think that we pay interest for capital only when we borrow it. The general rule is, that he who reaps the satisfaction should bear all the charges of production, ‹delay included›, whether he renders the service to himself, or has it rendered to him by another. A man in a state of [p204] isolation, who has no bargains or transactions with any one, would consider it an ‹onerous› circumstance to be deprived of the use of his weapons for a year. Why, then, should an analogous circumstance not be considered as onerous in society? But if a man submits to it voluntarily for the sake of another who agrees voluntarily to remunerate it, what should render that remuneration illegitimate? Nothing would be transacted in the world; no enterprise requiring advances would be undertaken; we should neither plant, nor sow, nor labour, were not delay considered as ‹in itself› an ‹onerous› circumstance, and treated and paid for as such. Universal consent is so unanimous on this point, that no exchange takes place but on this principle. Delays, hindrances, enter into the appreciation of ‹services›, and, consequently, into the constitution of ‹value›. Thus, in their crusade against interest, the advocates of equality not only trample under foot the most obvious notions of equity—they ignore not only their own principle of ‹service for service›, but also the authority of mankind and universal practice. How can they, in the face of day, exhibit the overweening pride which such a pretension supposes? Is it not, indeed, a very strange and a very sad thing, that these sectaries should adopt not only tacitly, but often in so many words, the motto, that, since the beginning of the world, all men have been mistaken except themselves? ‹Omnes, ego non.› Pardon me for thus insisting on the legitimacy of interest, which is founded on this principle, that, ‹since delay is costly, it must be paid for›—to ‹cost› and to ‹pay› being correlative terms. The fault lies in the spirit of our age. It is quite necessary to defend vital truths, admitted generally by mankind, but attacked and brought into question by a few fanatical innovators. For a writer who aspires to demonstrate the harmony of phenomena in the aggregate, it is a painful thing, you may believe, to be constantly stopped by the necessity of elucidating the most elementary notions. Would Laplace have been able to explain the planetary system in all its simplicity, if, among his readers, there had not existed certain common and received ideas,—if it had been necessary for him, in order to prove that the earth turns upon its axis, to begin by teaching numeration? Such is the hard fate of the Economist of our day. If he neglects the rudiments, he is not understood—if he explains them, the beauty and simplicity of his system is lost sight of in the multiplicity of details.