Progress of Property ¹

      Among the senses inherent in man, the sense of property is eminent. That sense is the foundation of yours and mine, a distinction which no human being is ignorant of. By that sense, wild animals, caught with labour or art, are perceived to belong to the hunter or fisher: they become his property. There is the same perception of property with respect to wild animals tamed for use, with their progeny. A field separated from the common, and cultivated by a man for bread to himself and family, is equally perceived to be his property^(a).

      The sense of property is slower in its growth toward maturity than the external senses, which are perfect even in childhood; but it ripens more early than the sense of congruity, of symmetry, of dignity, of grace, and the other refined sen-<117>ses, which scarce make any figure before the age of manhood. Children discover a sense of property in distinguishing their own chair, and their own spoon. In them, however, it is faint and obscure, requiring time to ripen. The gradual progress of that sense, from its infancy among savages to its maturity among polished nations, is one of the most instructive articles that belong to the present undertaking. But as that article makes a part of Historical Law-tracts^(b), nothing remains here but a few gleanings.

      Man is by nature a hoarding animal, having an appetite for storing up things of use; and the sense of property is bestowed on men, for securing to them what they thus store up. Hence it appears, that things destined by Providence for our sustenance and accommodation, were not intended to be possessed in common. It is even probable, that in the earliest ages every man separately hunted for himself and his family. But chance prevails in that occupation; and it may frequently happen, that while some get more than enough, others must go supperless to bed. <118> Sensible of that inconvenience, it crept into practice, for hunting and fishing to be carried on in common.^* We find, accordingly, the practice of hunting and fishing in common, even among gross savages. Those of New Holland, above mentioned, live upon small fish dug out of the sand when the sea retires. Sometimes they get plenty, sometimes very little; and all is<119> broiled and eat in common. After eating they go to rest: they return to their fishing next ebb of the tide, whether it be day or night, foul or fair; for go they must, or starve. In small tribes, where patriotism is vigorous, or in a country thinly peopled in proportion to its fertility, the living in common is agreeable: but in a large state where selfishness prevails, or in any state where great population requires extraordinary culture, the best method is to permit every man to shift for himself and his family: men wish to labour for themselves; and they labour more ardently for themselves, than for the public. Private property became more and sacred in the progress of arts and manufactures: to allow an artist of superior skill no profit above others, would be a sad discouragement to industry, and be scarce consistent with justice.

      The sense of property is not confined to the human species. The beavers perceive the timber they store up for food, to be their property; and the bees seem to have the same perception with respect to their winter’s provision of honey. Sheep know when they are in a trespass, and run to<120> their own pasture on the first glimpse of a man. Monkies do the same when detected in robbing an orchard. Sheep and horned cattle have a sense of property with respect to their resting-place in a fold or inclosure, which every one guards against the incroachments of others. He must be a sceptic indeed, who denies that perception to rooks: thieves there are among them as among men; but if a rook purloin a stick from another’s nest, a council is held, much chattering ensues, and the lex talionis is applied by demolishing the nest of the criminal. To man are furnished rude materials only: to convert these into food and clothing requires industry; and if he had not a sense that the product of his labour belongs to himself, his industry would be faint. In general, it is pleasant to observe, that the sense of property is always given where it is useful, and never but where it is useful.

      An ingenious writer, describing the inhabitants of Guiana, who continue hunters and fishers, makes an eloquent harangue upon the happiness they enjoy, in having few wants and desires, and little notion of private property.

      The manners of these<121> Indians exhibit an amiable picture of primeval innocence and happiness. The ease with which their few wants are supplied, renders division of land unnecessary; nor does it afford any temptation to fraud or violence. That proneness to vice, which among civilized nations is esteemed a propensity of nature, has no existence in a country where every man enjoys in perfection his native freedom and independence, without hurting or being hurt by others. A perfect equality of rank, banishing all distinctions but of age and personal merit, promotes freedom in conversation, and firmness in action, and suggests no desires but what may be gratified with innocence. Envy and discontent cannot subsist where there is perfect equality; we scarce even hear of a discontented lover, as there is no difference of rank and fortune, the common obstacles that prevent fruition. Those who have been unhappily accustomed to the refinements of luxury, will scarce be able to conceive, that an Indian, with no covering but what modesty requires, with no shelter that deserves that name of a<122> house, and with no food but of the coarsest kind, painfully procured by hunting, can feel any happiness: and yet, to judge from external appearance, the happiness of these people may be envied by the wealthy of the most refined nations; and justly, because their ignorance of extravagant desires, and endless pursuits, that torment the great world, excludes