would have spent six francs in shoes, and would have had at the same
time the enjoyment of a pair o shoes and of a window.

Now, as James B. forms a part of society, we must come to the
conclusion, that, taking it altogether, and making an estimate of its
enjoyments and its labours, it has lost the value of the broken window.

Whence we arrive at this unexpected conclusion: "Society loses the value
of things which are uselessly destroyed;" and we must assent to a maxim
which will make the hair of protectionists stand on end--To break, to
spoil, to waste, is not to encourage national labour; or, more briefly,
"destruction is not profit."

What will you say, _Moniteur Industriel_--what will you say, disciples
of good M. F. Chamans, who has calculated with so much precision how
much trade would gain by the burning of Paris, from the number of houses
it would be necessary to rebuild?

I am sorry to disturb these ingenious calculations, as far as their
spirit has been introduced into our legislation; but I beg him to begin
them again, by taking into the account _that which is not seen_, and
placing it alongside of _that which is seen_.

The reader must take care to remember that there are not two persons
only, but three concerned in the little scene which I have submitted to
his attention. One of them, James B., represents the consumer, reduced,
by an act of destruction, to one enjoyment instead of two. Another,
under the title of the glazier, shows us the producer, whose trade is
encouraged by the accident. The third is the shoemaker (or some other
tradesman), whose labour suffers proportionably by the same cause. It