heir ideas, to their antipathies, to their
dislikes, and to their attacks. It follows that the misguided people are
rushing into a horrible and absurd struggle, in which victory would be
more fatal than defeat; since, according to this supposition, the result
would be the realisation of universal evils, the destruction of every
means of emancipation, the consummation of its own misery.

This is just what M. Proudhon has acknowledged, with perfect good
faith. "The foundation stone," he told me, "of my system is the
_gratuitousness of credit_. If I am mistaken in this, Socialism is a
vain dream." I add, it is a dream, in which the people are tearing
themselves to pieces. Will it, therefore, be a cause for surprise, if,
when they awake, they find themselves mangled and bleeding? Such a
danger as this is enough to justify me fully, if, in the course of the
discussion, I allow myself to be led into some trivialities and some
prolixity.

Capital and Interest.

I address this treatise to the workmen of Paris, more especially to
those who have enrolled themselves under the banner of Socialist
democracy. I proceed to consider these two questions:--

1st. Is it consistent with the nature of things, and with justice, that
capital should produce interest?

2nd. Is it consistent with the nature of things, and with justice, that
the interest of capital should be perpetual?

The working men of Paris will certainly acknowledge that a more
important subject could not be discussed.

Since the world began, it has been allowed, at least in part, that
capital ought to produce interest. But latterly it has been affirmed,
that herein lies the very social error which is the cause of pauperism
and inequality. It is, therefore, very essential to know now on what
ground we stand.

For if levying interest from capital is a sin, the workers have a right
to revolt against social order, as it exists. It is in vain to tell them
that they ought to have recourse to legal and pacific means: it would be
a hypocritical recommendation. When on the one side there is a strong
man, poor, and a victim of robbery--on the other, a weak man, but rich,
and a robber--it is singular enough that we should say to the former,
with a hope of persuading him, "Wait till your oppressor voluntarily
renounces oppression, or till it shall cease of itself." This cannot be;
and those who tell us that capital is by nature unproductive, ought to
know that they are