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Front Page arrow Titles (by Subject) arrow 322.: mill to ricardo3[Reply to 321.—Answered by 323] - The Works and Correspondence of David Ricardo, Vol. 8 Letters 1819-June 1821

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322.: mill to ricardo3[Reply to 321.—Answered by 323] - David Ricardo, The Works and Correspondence of David Ricardo, Vol. 8 Letters 1819-June 1821 [1819]

Edition used:

The Works and Correspondence of David Ricardo, ed. Piero Sraffa with the Collaboration of M.H. Dobb (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2005). Vol. 8 Letters 1819-1821.

Part of: The Works and Correspondence of David Ricardo, 11 vols (Sraffa ed.)

About Liberty Fund:

Liberty Fund, Inc. is a private, educational foundation established to encourage the study of the ideal of a society of free and responsible individuals.


322.

mill to ricardo3
[Reply to 321.—Answered by 323]

My Dear Sir

I have just received your letter, and as I am quite decided that not one of your reasons is a good one, I shall write to Napier that you undertake the article. If you had felt any objection, even founded on feeling, I should have given way—if you had not liked the idea of giving your name to a partnership work—though a work which has the names of Dugald Stewart, Playfair, Walter Scott, Barrow, &.c., can do no discredit to any name—I should have said you were entitled to judge for yourself. But to give only reasons, which, if acted upon, would for ever hinder you from doing any thing, is too bad. As for time, take your own time. I will undertake for you, you shall not be hurried. And then, again, as for your not being able to work for time, it is all a fancy. You are not a puling sentimentalist—a thing that must be governed by, not govern, its fine feelings! A couple of hours, each day, and a great deal less, would accomplish the thing in a month—and if you want any book, name it, and it shall be sent to you. The last plea, of want of ability, you ought to be ashamed of yourself for stating. So now I hope you are properly scolded, and having kissed the rod, like a good disciple, are taking seriously to your task. You ought to be thankful, if your house is going to be full, of having an excuse, for appropriating a little of each day to yourself. Why, surely, you can manage to get up two hours before breakfast. Mrs. Ricardo is up three.1

Whiggery is whiggizing most characteristically on the present occasion. It would like dearly to make a howl about the Manchester massacres for the sake of turning out the ministers; but it is terrified out of its miserable wits to do so, for fear of aiding parliamentary reform, to which it seems to shew pretty distinctly that it would prefer an iron despotism. “Sometimes indeed they speak with so much alarm of the numerous and frequent meetings of the people as to impress me strongly with the opinion that they would be willing to forbid them by law altogether.” These are your own words, speaking of the Whigs you have lately had about you. This is pretty well—is it not? What are you and I to think, reasonably, about such gentry? About their understandings, if they are sincere? About something else, if they are not sincere? If they dread the meetings of the people, because they worship bad government—they are right—and nothing will save them, but the degrading despotism they would prefer. If they dread them, as supposing the people hostile, or likely to be made hostile to property, it is folly; as the temperance and self-command of the people on so many recent occasions might convince them. The displays of talent and virtue have all changed sides; gone over to the people, from those inferiors of theirs who call themselves their betters.

I have seen a paragraph in the Times of today about the health of Brougham, which fills me with alarm—if true, I am afraid it is his health in a very unhappy sense.

It gives me great pleasure that you had a fellow combatant and a good one in Miss Hobhouse. I have no doubt, that you had the victory in every thing except in positiveness of assertion. I like to hear that she is an admirer of her brother, in whom I think there is a great deal of stuff of the best sort. He is a man capable of great things, if he takes pains with himself, and keeps among right people. You should encourage him to come about you. It will do him much more good than tying himself up in the apron-strings of Burdett. If you see his sister again, you may tell her I said so.—I hardly know what I have said—for I had but 10 minutes for you—adieu.

J. M. 1

[3 ]MS in R.P.

[1 ]See below, p. 77–8.

[1 ]A letter from Mill to Napier, dated 10 Sept. 1819, reads: ‘I wrote immediately to Ricardo, telling him you counted upon his half promise as a whole one. I received from him a parcel of excuses—but as there was none of them good for any thing, I wrote to him immediately that I should send you word of his having undertaken the task. I might have heard from him to-day—and as I have not, I conclude he acquiesces. It is unaffected diffidence which is the cause of his unwillingness, for he is as modest as he is able.—At this moment Ricardo’s letter is brought up to me. He will put down his thoughts, he says, and send them to you, but that you will have to write the article at last for yourself. But of this there is no fear except his own....If you have anyinstructions to send to Ricardo, you may write them either to him or to me.’ (MS in British Museum, Add. 36,612, fols. 287–8; incomplete in Selections from the Correspondence of Macvey Napier, p. 23, and Bain, James Mill, p. 187.)