This explains the fatally grievous condition of mankind.  Ignorance surrounds its cradle:  then its actions are determined by their first consequences, the only ones which, in its first stage, it can see.  It is only in the long run that it learns to take account of the others.  It has to learn this lesson from two very different masters—­experience and foresight.  Experience teaches effectually, but brutally.  It makes us acquainted with all the effects of an action, by causing us to feel them; and we cannot fail to finish by knowing that fire burns, if we have burned ourselves.  For this rough teacher, I should like, if possible, to substitute a more gentle one.  I mean Foresight.  For this purpose I shall examine the consequences of certain economical phenomena, by placing in opposition to each other those which are seen, and those which are not seen.

I.—­The Broken Window.

Have you ever witnessed the anger of the good shopkeeper, James B., when his careless son happened to break a pane of glass?  If you have been present at such a scene, you will most assuredly bear witness to the fact, that every one of the spectators, were there even thirty of them, by common consent apparently, offered the unfortunate owner this invariable consolation—­“It is an ill wind that blows nobody good.  Everybody must live, and what would become of the glaziers if panes of glass were never broken?”

Now, this form of condolence contains an entire theory, which it will be well to show up in this simple case, seeing that it is precisely the same as that which, unhappily, regulates the greater part of our economical institutions.

Suppose it cost six francs to repair the damage, and you say that the accident brings six francs to the glazier’s trade—­that it encourages that trade to the amount of six francs—­I grant it; I have not a word to say against it; you reason justly.  The glazier comes, performs his task, receives his six francs, rubs his hands, and, in his heart, blesses the careless child.  All this is that which is seen.

But if, on the other hand, you come to the conclusion, as is too often the case, that it is a good thing to break windows, that it causes money to circulate, and that the encouragement of industry in general will be the result of it, you will oblige me to call out, “Stop there! your theory is confined to that which is seen; it takes no account of that which is not seen.”

It is not seen that as our shopkeeper has spent six francs upon one thing, he cannot spend them upon another. It is not seen that if he had not had a window to replace, he would, perhaps, have replaced his old shoes, or added another book to his library.  In short, he would have employed his six francs in some way which this accident has prevented.

Let us take a view of industry in general, as affected by this circumstance.  The window being broken, the glazier’s trade is encouraged to the amount of six francs:  this is that which is seen.