Early Economic Thought in Spain 1177-1740
Early Economic Thought in Spain 1177-1740
Early Economic Thought in Spain 1177-1740
Economic Thought
in Spain,
1177–1740
Early
Economic Thought
in Spain,
1177–1740
qr
Marjorie Grice-Hutchinson
li bert y fu n d Indianapolis
This book is published by Liberty Fund, Inc.,
a foundation established to encourage study of the ideal of a
society of free and responsible individuals.
The cuneiform inscription that serves as our logo and as the design motif
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part one
the middle ages
1 In Concealment of Usury, 3
Introduction, 3
Usury among the Jews, 5
Usury in Islam, 16
Christian teaching, 20
Usury in Spain, 27
Old devices in a new world, 39
2 Greek Economics in Spain, 60
Greek economic theory, 60
Greek economics in Islam, 64
Averroes, 68
The transmission to the Christian West, 71
part two
the age of mercantilism
3 The School of Salamanca, 83
Some early sources, 84
The School of Salamanca, 95
The survival of the scholastic doctrine of value, 114
4 The Political Economists, 133
The years of optimism (1500–1560), 135
Disillusion (1560–1600), 146
Recession and decline (1600–1700), 152
Signs of recovery (1700–1740), 177
Bibliography, 201
Index, 215
vii
for ewo rd
In the course of the last twenty years there has been a certain
quickening of interest in the history of economic thought in Spain.
Not only have the old economists been consulted as witnesses to the
economic facts of their time, but their doctrines have been exam-
ined and found to be of interest for their own sake. A considerable
number of long-forgotten texts have been brought to light, and some
judged worthy of re-publication. I hope that this collection of essays
may help to draw attention to the work done in this field, and per-
haps suggest some lines of approach that invite further exploration.
My first two chapters are concerned with the medieval period. In
them I have tried to see how far, if at all, Professor Américo Cas-
tro’s main theme, the interpenetration of the Christian, Hebrew, and
Islamic cultures in the Iberian Peninsula and their joint contribution
to the making of modern Spain, may be applicable to our subject.
The chapter on usury doctrine and business practice (the two things
must be considered together) offers conclusions that I put forward
tentatively, in the hope that others may be led to support or dis-
prove them. With my second chapter we come onto firmer ground.
The economic doctrines of Plato and Aristotle were first transmit-
ted to western Europe by way of Spain, and I have tried to show in
some detail the part played by scholars of the three religions in this
achievement.
The second half of this book deals with the so-called age of mer-
cantilism, which, in the field of economic thought, lasted in Spain
from about the middle of the sixteenth century until well into the
eighteenth. Coming into this period we find ourselves caught up in
current controversy. Like the people of Spain in the age of mercan-
tilism, we live in a time of inflation. Our economists, like theirs, are
concerned with its causes and consequences, and some of them look
back to the Spanish price revolution in search of a solution to our
own problems. The monetarists among them point to the work of
Professor Earl J. Hamilton, and ascribe the rise in the Spanish price
ix
x Foreword
level to the influx of gold and silver that reached Spain from the
New World. The anti-monetarists adduce more recent researches in
the field of Spanish economic history which have sought to modify
Hamilton’s conclusions.1
Before we form our own opinion we should do well to listen to
the old Spanish economists, who were often shrewd observers and
who felt the effects of the inflation at first hand. Broadly speaking,
we shall find that the scholastic writers based their teaching on the
quantity theory of money, and that the political economists, though
they mostly attributed the increase in prices to monetary expansion
of one kind or another, also brought forward other reasons for the
inflation and subsequent economic decay of Spain. My third chapter
will deal with the monetary theory of the Spanish late-scholastics
(that being, I think, the most interesting feature of their work), and
my fourth with the views of the political economists and “projectors.”
I have to thank Mr. Marrack I. Goulding for his advice on the
transliteration of Arabic words.
not e
1. Inflation: Causes, Consequences, Cures, a debate between Lord Rob-
bins, Samuel Brittan, A. W. Coats, Milton Friedman, Peter Jay, and David
Laidler, with addenda by F. A. Hayek and Peter Jay (Institute of Economic
Affairs, London, 1974), pp. 14, 15, and 22.
1r
The Middle Ages
1 In Concealment of Usury
i n t roduc t ion
To be told that Africa begins at the Pyrenees is apt to irritate
Spaniards. Yet if by Africa we mean Islamic Africa there is some truth
in the cliché. For over seven hundred years, from 711 to 1492, a gradu-
ally shrinking portion of the Iberian Peninsula was under Moslem
rule. And, as Ibn Khaldun says, referring to the glorious Andalusian
civilization of his forebears, when once the dye is well taken the cloth
keeps its color forever. Even the least observant of modern travelers,
when he comes into Spain, is forced to consider, perhaps for the first
time, the civilization of Spanish Islam.
This civilization was of eastern origin. Hence, by an accident of his-
tory, North Africa and Spain, the most westerly regions in their respec-
tive continents, shared throughout most of the Middle Ages an oriental
culture. They formed a single bloc, the Maghreb or Moslem West,
which balanced the other two blocs, of eastern and western Christian-
ity, that made up the civilized world familiar to the medieval European.
The theme song of Spanish history during this period is that of the win-
ning of Spain from the Maghreb and its return to the Christian West.
The oriental element in the life of medieval Spain was intensi-
fied by the presence of the Jews who lived under both Moslem and
Christian protection. There were times when the Jews, here too, were
persecuted. But, in the main, it was a golden age for Jewry. Some
Jews were rich and powerful, moving between the Islamic and Chris-
tian princes whom they served as physicians, translators, diplomats,
financial advisers, and tax-gatherers. Others led humble lives as shop-
keepers and artisans. They were a pious, clever, frugal, hard-working
people, clinging to the traditions that held them together, and devot-
ing to the study of their sacred books the hours that were not spent
in business.
3
4 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
As the Reconquest progressed and political power passed more
and more into Christian hands, the cultural and commercial life of
the newly acquired territories was still dependent on an urban middle
class that included many families of Moslem and Jewish origin. The
Spanish Christians had mostly been forced to adopt other ideals—
those of soldiers and colonizers. In a famous book of laws Alphonso X
of Castile lays down the duties of his subjects. Apart from fulfilling
their obligations toward God and their king they must “understand
the land . . . and cultivate it well, not despising it and finding fault,
because land that is useless for one crop will always serve for another,”
and, if need arises, they must “break rocks, cut down forests, level the
ground, and rid the country of wild beasts.”1 Though Alphonso him-
self was a lover of learning and Christian Spain had never lacked for
scholars, yet, in those pioneering days, the labors he prescribes must
often have interrupted the work of the library.
Speculation about economic matters had reached a more advanced
stage among Jews and Moslems than among Christians. In all three
peoples a great part of such studies had centered round the problem
of usury. The subject held an extraordinary fascination for countless
thinkers over a period of some two thousand years. The vast body
of teaching on usury that has come down to us reflects the religious
spirit of the Semitic peoples and those who followed in their faith.
We may contrast this spirit with the rationalistic standpoint of the
Greeks, whose contribution to economic thought I shall consider
in my second chapter. Our immediate task will be to find out what
Moslems, Jews, and Christians thought about usury in medieval
Spain and how they reconciled, or failed to reconcile, accepted doc-
trine with their personal convictions and interests.
The tenet, common to the three religions of Spain, that usury is
one of the gravest of sins has its source in the Old Testament. We
need not labor the point in the case of Judaism and Christianity. But
it is sometimes forgotten that Muhammad, who saw himself as the
successor of the Hebrew prophets and of Christ, and as the renewer
and purifier of a common faith in the One God, took over a hatred
of usury from the Mosaic law.
Our three religions went through the stages that are common to
many bodies of doctrine. In all three, the original and revolutionary
In Concealment of Usury 5
teaching of their founders came to pass through a period of so-called
“tradition,” in which it was handed down from generation to genera-
tion, undergoing some development but not entirely losing its early
freshness and glow. And, in all three, there came a time when the first
inspiration had faded, when prophets and saints gave way to schol-
ars, when the broad lines of doctrine had been laid down, and when
debate became a matter for professionals who used a language and
method of their own: in short, a time of scholasticism.
The three religions thus followed parallel paths, but at long inter-
vals from each other. Hence we find discussed among Christians, as
late as the seventeenth century, typically scholastic problems that
had been thrashed out among Jews and Moslems long before. That
of usury (by which I shall mean in this chapter any interest, however
small, that is charged on a loan) provides an instructive example. In
order to examine it we shall have to go far back into the past, and
consider writings that at first sight may seem to bear little relation to
the Spain of comparatively recent times.
usu ry a mong t h e j e ws
The Bible and Talmud
The chief biblical sources of Jewish teaching on usury are
the following:
1. Psalms XV: 5. He that putteth not out his money to usury
[shall abide in the tabernacle of the Lord].
2. Exodus XXII: 25. If thou lend money to any of my people
that is poor by thee, thou shalt not be to him as an usurer,
neither shalt thou lay upon him usury.
3. Leviticus XXV: 35–7. And if thy brother be waxen poor,
and fallen into decay with thee, then thou shalt relieve him;
yea, though he be a stranger, or a sojourner, that he may live
with thee. Take thou no usury of him, or increase; but fear
thy God, that thy brother may live with thee. Thou shalt not
give him thy money upon usury, nor lend him thy victuals for
increase.
4. Deuteronomy XXIII: 19–20. Thou shalt not lend upon
usury to thy brother; usury of money, usury of victuals,
6 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
usury of anything that is lent upon usury. Unto a stranger
thou mayest lend upon usury, but unto thy brother thou
shalt not lend upon usury.
5. Ezekiel XVIII: 8–9. He that hath not given forth upon usury,
neither hath taken any increase . . . he is just, he shall surely
live, saith the Lord God.
6. Ezekiel XXII: 12. Thou hast taken usury and increase, and
thou hast greedily gained of thy neighbors by extortion, and
hast forgotten me, saith the Lord God.
It will be noticed that (2) and (3) seek to protect only the Jew who
has fallen on hard times, whereas (4) forbids altogether the practice
of usury between Israelites.
These texts formed part of the scriptures that were studied by genera-
tion after generation of pious Jews, and with especial care by the rabbis,
who applied their conclusions in their legal decisions. There came into
being, side by side with the Pentateuch, an oral law, which was prob-
ably set down in writing about the year ad 200. This compilation is
known as the Mishna (“instruction” or commentary on the Tora or
revealed law), which in turn became the subject of fresh interpretation.
The resulting new commentary, the Gemara, together with the Mishna,
make up the Talmud, which was completed about the year 500.
The word mishna, besides meaning the traditional doctrine of the
Jews, denotes among other things a single tenet. Each section of the
Talmud is made up of an introductory mishna, followed by a gemara
or commentary, in which are set forth the often conflicting opinions
of the leading rabbis on the subject dealt with in the mishna. The
method is essentially the same as that which was later to be adopted
by the Christian scholastics.
The rabbinical or Jewish doctrine of usury may conveniently be
studied in that tractate of the Talmud which is known as the Baba
Mezi’a or Middle Gate. The relevant passages are based on the biblical
injunctions against usury. They are of considerable interest insofar as
they reflect the efforts of the early rabbis to reconcile the needs of
commerce with the Mosaic law.
A mishna posited on Leviticus XXV: 36, “Take thou no usury
of him, nor increase,” seeks to distinguish between legitimate and
In Concealment of Usury 7
usurious profit.2 In the gemara that follows are summarized the
commentaries of the leading rabbis or “sages.” Some interpreted the
mishna as approving dealings in futures, but only where the future
price was not known in advance. A man might therefore contract to
buy or sell goods for future delivery at whatever price might be cur-
rent when payment fell due. This ruling was not universally accepted,
but it was generally agreed that lending money or goods for a stipu-
lated bigger return is biblically forbidden, whereas buying ahead, if
forbidden at all, is only forbidden by the rabbis. The distinction was
of great practical significance, since “Pentateuchal” or “direct” usury
was held to be reclaimable through the Jewish courts, whereas merely
“rabbinical” or “indirect” usury, the result of luck or good judgment
in business affairs, could not be so reclaimed.
Among the various ways in which a lender may try to charge usury,
the same gemara describes a device that was to be used throughout
Europe until quite recent times. This was the double contract of sale,
otherwise known as the mohatra or barata contract:
Some things are [essentially] permitted, yet forbidden as
[constituting] an evasion of usury. How so? If A. requested B.
“Lend me a maneh,” to which he replied, “I have no maneh,
but wheat to the value thereof, which I will give you,” and
thereupon he gave him a maneh’s worth of wheat [calculated
on the current price] and repurchased it for 24 selas; now, this
is essentially permitted, yet may not be done on account of
evasion of usury.
A maneh was equal to 100 zuz and a sela to 4 zuz; hence, 24 selas
equalled 96 zuz. Thus, in the above case, B, the creditor, sells or pre-
tends to sell wheat on credit to A, the debtor, who contracts to repay,
in cash or in kind, 100 zuz in return for 96.
In order to make the matter quite clear, our gemara provides a
second example of the same evasionary device:
A. said to B., “Lend me 30 denarii,” to which he replied, “I have
not 30 denarii, but wheat for the same, which I can give you.”
He then gave him 30 denarii’s worth of wheat [calculated at the
current price] and repurchased it for a golden dinar.
8 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
A gold dinar was worth 25 denarii. The debtor thus receives 25
denarii in cash immediately and owes 30 repayable at some future
date.
I would now ask the reader to compare the two last-quoted texts
with the following passage taken from a sermon preached at Bury
St. Edmunds about the year 1595 by the Rev. Miles Mosse or Moses,
a Protestant divine who was minister at Norwich and pastor of
Combes in Suffolk:
I come to a man, and desire him to lend me an hundred pound
upon usury. He answereth, he hath not so much ready money
by him, but to do me a pleasure he will lend me an hundred
pounds worth of plate to sell, and so to make money: the plate
perhaps being hardly worth the money. I am no sooner gone out
of the door, but the usurer provideth a broker to meet me, and
to buy his plate of me again. Now for ready money perhaps I
sell the plate for four score pound. The broker carrieth back the
plate to the owner, and from him bringeth four score pound in
ready money to the borrower. The borrower must pay the lender
an hundred pound for his plate at the day appointed, and ten
pound for the usury in the mean season. So in fine, the poor
man payeth loan after thirty pound in the hundred, and yet must
think himself befriended of the merchant. Thus and a thousand
ways more is usury committed under pretence and color of
buying and selling.3
It is clear that the fictitious sale as described in the Talmud and
by Mosse is one and the same device. As late as 1656, the intellec-
tual world was reminded of the then moribund mohatra contract
by Pascal, who, in the wittiest of his Provincial Letters, used it as a
stick to beat the Jesuits with.4 The mohatra seems to have flourished
with especial vigor in Spain. We shall see later something of its his-
tory there.
Returning to our gemara on usury, we note that attention is paid
to the subject of money-changing. A case is cited which suggests
that money-changing was already being used among the Jews as a
cover for money-lending. This popular way of evading the usury laws
In Concealment of Usury 9
continued to occupy Jewish, Moslem, and Christian writers on usury
until the end of the seventeenth century.
Various other evasionary devices are mentioned in the Talmud.
One is the enjoyment by the money-lender of the fruits of property
given as a pledge or sold conditionally as cover for a loan. “If a man
lends to his neighbour,” runs a mishna, “he must not live rent-free in
his court, nor at a low rent, because that constitutes usury.”5 What we
should regard as interest on a mortgage was, however, permissible,
because in Jewish law a mortgage was regarded as a temporary sale,
and a man may naturally enjoy the fruits of his own property.
The Talmud forbids an Israelite to accept from another an “iron
flock” (i.e. sheep that cannot come to harm, or an investment that
carries no risk for the investor), because that is nothing but a loan
at usury. Such an investment may be accepted from Gentiles. It was
also generally agreed that a Jew might borrow from and lend to Gen-
tiles at usury. An Israelite may lend a Gentile’s money at usury to
another Israelite with the knowledge of the Gentile but not of the
Jewish borrower.6
Another class of transactions that sometimes served as a cover for
usury involved the transfer of money from place to place. In talmudic
times (and, indeed, for long afterwards) money was transported in
sealed purses containing gold or silver coins whose weight and num-
ber were indicated on the outside. This dangerous and cumbersome
procedure was supplemented by various forms of transfer of debt,
and more especially by the Jewish diokne or Moslem suftaja, defined
by Moslem lawyers as “a loan of money made in order to avoid the
risk of transport.”7
The talmudic sages generally resisted the transfer of money by
means of such instruments of credit. There were several reasons for
this. Firstly, the banker’s charge for issuing the document might be
construed as usurious gain on a loan. Secondly, according to bibli-
cal law one could not acquire title to a non-existent thing; and a
debt was non-existent since in theory a loan was freely expendable.
Finally, the transfer of money from place to place often entailed an
exchange of currency, and we have seen that money-changing was in
itself suspect.
10 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
The Responsa
In the early Middle Ages the great centers of Jewish learning were
still in the east, at Sura and Pimbedith in Mesopotamia. The ever-
increasing number of Jews who lived outside these centers continued
to appeal to the heads of the eastern academies for the interpretation
of obscure passages in the Talmud, in order to reconcile talmudic
principles with the conditions of life that prevailed in the different
countries where they had settled. Queries on doubtful points of Jew-
ish law were sent by the scattered Jewish communities to the east-
ern academies, and in due course, sometimes after a delay of several
years, the answers came back in the form of the so-called “responsa.”
Thanks to recent work based on this and other material, we now
have a wonderfully complete and vivid picture of Jewish life in the
Islamic countries of the Mediterranean, including Spain and Italy, as
it existed between the tenth and the thirteenth centuries.8
From the tenth century onward the eastern centers of Jewish
learning declined, and important rabbinical schools arose in Europe
and North Africa. The first Spanish school was founded at Cordova
in 948. As time went on the Spanish rabbis came to play an increas-
ingly important part in guiding the conscience of Jewry, at first from
Moslem and later from Christian Spain. The first noteworthy col-
lections of responsa that relate wholly or largely to Spain are those of
Isaac ben Jacob, of Fez, better known as Alfasi, who came to Spain in
1104 and directed the academy at Lucena; of his disciple and succes-
sor, Joseph ben Migash and of the Cordovan philosopher and rabbi,
Moses ben Maimon, known as Maimonides (1135–1204).
To a later period belong the responsa of the celebrated talmu-
dic scholar, Asher ben Yehiel of Cologne (1250–1327), who came
to Spain in 1303 and settled in Toledo; of his son, Jacob ben Asher
(d. 1340), whose Turim remained the standard code of Jewish law up
to the sixteenth century; and of Solomon ben Abraham ben Adret
(d. 1310), head of the academy at Gerona. The difficulties of the Jew-
ish communities of Spain, who had to adapt themselves to a way of
life for which the Talmud made no provision, are reflected in the
copious volumes of the responsa (Adret’s contain over three thousand
cases and Asher’s about one thousand). The flow of responsa contin-
ued up to the eve of the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492.
In Concealment of Usury 11
Except for a short-lived attempt at the beginning of the twelfth
century to put the clock back by rejecting casuistry and returning to
a biblical simplicity of doctrine, the authority of the Talmud stood
unchallenged in Spain. Commentaries and abridgments were poured
out by learned rabbis as long as the Jews dwelled in the Peninsula;
and after their expulsion talmudic law, together with the doctrines
of the Spanish rabbis, were summarized by R. José Caro of Toledo
(1481–1575), whose Shulhan’ Aruk replaced Asher’s Turim and still
constitutes a standard textbook of Jewish law.
Maimonides on Usury
The greatest of the medieval rabbis, and the only one whose
name is familiar to the Christian West, is the Spanish Jew, Mai-
monides. Born at Cordova in 1135, he came of a family distinguished
by its learning. The conquest of Cordova in 1148 by the puritani-
cal Moslem sect of the Almohades, followed by the persecution of
the Jewish and Christian inhabitants of the conquered territories,
forced the family of Maimonides to leave their home and wander
through Andalusia until at last, in 1160, they left Spain for Fez.
Here again they met persecution, and fled into Egypt, where they
were finally able to settle. Maimonides, now a man of 30, was at
last able to make full use of his gifts. He became court physician
to the sultan, founded a school of philosophy at Fustat, and was
appointed chief judge of the Jewish communities in Egypt, where he
died in 1204.
Maimonides’ vast literary production covers a wide range of top-
ics that extend from the most elevated metaphysical problems to the
proper treatment for hemorrhoids. Our wonder at his versatility
is deepened when we remember the busy life he led as a physician.
Yet Maimonides’ writings bear no mark of haste. They are all order
and serenity, all clarity and good sense. Most of his books were writ-
ten in Arabic and translated immediately into Hebrew by members
of the Tibbonides family of Andalusian Jews who had established
themselves at Lunel. His code of Jewish law, however, was written in
Hebrew for the benefit of his fellow Israelites. It was chiefly through
In Concealment of Usury 13
this work, which was completed about 1180, that the medieval Cath-
olic Church derived its knowledge of the Synagogue.
The Code is based on a large number of sources, including the
Bible, the Mishna, the Talmud, the geonic literature, and the opinions
of the Spanish rabbis whom Maimonides regarded as his teachers.
While most of the laws formulated in the Code are drawn from the
Mishna and its main auxiliary, the Babylonian Gemara, Maimonides
follows his own judgment in the choice of the treatises that make up
each of the fourteen books of the Code, and also in the arrangement
of the topics within a given treatise. He thus clarifies and systematizes
whole collections of laws that in the Talmud were submerged and
scattered.
The subject of usury is discussed in the thirteenth book of the Code,
the Book of the Civil Laws, and also touched upon in the twelfth, the
Book of Acquisition. Maimonides keeps broadly to the principles laid
down by Jewish tradition, but in certain cases permits some relax-
ation of traditional doctrine. His teaching may be summarized as
follows.
To lend or borrow money at usury is forbidden between Isra-
elites. In doing so the lender transgresses no less than six negative
commandments, and the borrower two. Nevertheless, even though
they are breaking all these commandments, the parties are not sub-
ject to punishment by flogging, because usury is restorable. Direct
usury, which is forbidden by the Pentateuch, may be recovered by the
debtor through the court. Indirect or quasi-usury, which is forbidden
only by rabbinical law, may not legally be reclaimed by the creditor,
but neither is it recoverable by the borrower if he has paid it already.11
It is obligatory for a Jew to make a gratuitous loan to a poor
fellow Jew. Repayment of the principal may not be exacted from a
poor Jewish debtor, but it can and must be reclaimed from a Gentile.
It is permissible for a Jew to borrow at usury from a Gentile or an
alien resident, and to lend to him at usury. The Sages forbade Israel-
ites to lend to Gentiles at directly stipulated interest, except insofar
as this may be necessary for the Israelite in order to earn a livelihood,
because they feared that the Jewish lender might be corrupted by the
misdeeds of the Gentile borrower if he were to consort with him fre-
quently. This consideration does not apply in the case of an Israelite
14 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
who borrows from a Gentile because he is more likely to avoid his
creditor than to consort with him. A scholar, who is unlikely to be
corrupted by association with a Gentile, may lend to him at usury
merely in order to make a profit.12
Maimonides classes so many kinds of transactions as only quasi-
usurious, permissible though reprehensible, that the ancient Jew-
ish prohibition of usury is considerably whittled away. Forbidden
indeed, but only quasi-usury, is the letting of money at hire, “the
letting of dinar being unlike the letting of a utensil since in the lat-
ter case the same utensil is returned, while in the former the dinars
are spent and others returned in their place.”13 Mere quasi-usury,
too, is involved in the evasionary device by which A (the lender) is
given a field as a pledge by B (the borrower), and lets it back to him,
the rent being concealed interest on the loan;14 and in the invest-
ment of money in a business on condition that the investor shares
in the profit but not in any possible loss—the “iron flock” of Jewish
tradition.15 As for the double contract of sale half-condemned by
the sages, this “is not even quasi-usury,” and the full amount lent is
recoverable at law.16
The later Spanish rabbis adhered to the doctrine of the Talmud
and of Maimonides. They still taught that usury between Jews was
to be condemned, and between a Jew and a Gentile condoned if
not actively encouraged. But there was always an unpleasant stigma
attached to the nation of direct, “biting” usury as well as the risk that
the borrower might try by legal means to cancel the debt. It fell to the
parties concerned in a loan transaction to arrange matters in such a
way that if inquiry were made they could at worst be found guilty
only of indirect or quasi-usury.
By this time, the later Middle Ages, there were many well-
recognized ways of doing so. For instance, if a Jew wanted to lend
to another Jew he could employ a Gentile as intermediary, so that
usury did not pass directly between his co-religionist and himself.17
He could make a contract in which the usury would appear in the
form of a penalty for (prearranged) failure to return the loan by a
certain date.18 He could resort to one of the numerous subterfuges
connected with the use of houses and land as pledges.19 He could
enter into a fictitious contract of sale, of which there were by this
In Concealment of Usury 15
time several forms to choose from.20 He could fall back on the false
commenda contract, in appearance a partnership agreement but
one in which the lender’s risk was minimized and his profit fixed in
advance. By writing in the clause “on the basis of the permissibility of
the commenda” it seems that “many a pious Jew, even in the twentieth
century, salved his conscience while charging or paying whatever rate
of interest had been stipulated.”21 Finally, he could defer payment for
an object sold, the price being fixed above its market value. This prac-
tice was forbidden by Maimonides, who however held that “if a man
purchases something from his fellow at its market value on condition
that he may pay therefor at the end of a year, the seller may say, ‘Pay
me now, and I will take less.’ ”22
Altogether, with such an array of evasionary devices to choose
from, it is unlikely that any Jew who was seeking a profitable invest-
ment would be unduly troubled by the fact that usury (between Isra-
elites at least) was in principle forbidden by the law of his people.
usu ry i n isl a m
The Koran and Tradition
In the Islamic community, teaching on usury followed a
similar course to that which we have traced in the Jewish. At the
time of Muhammad’s birth in 570, the period of Jewish scholasti-
cism had already come to maturity. For the Jews of Arabia it was
a time not of reforming zeal but of compromise and adaptation.
“And . . . they take usury while it was forbidden them, and devour
uselessly the substance of the people” is a reproach levelled in the
Koran against the Jews. The fact that the principal passages forbid-
ding usury belong to the Medina period of Muhammad’s life sug-
gests that he was shocked by the backsliding of the three small tribes
of that town who practiced the Jewish faith. The men of these tribes
were artisans, and they are said also to have been goldsmiths and
money-lenders. They had schools and rabbis (it was, indeed, their
skill in casuistry, which they used in order to mock the Prophet and
his followers, that eventually goaded the Moslems into making a
clean sweep of them all). It is probable that they paid lip service
to the biblical prohibition of usury while evading it by some of the
methods I have described.
In Concealment of Usury 17
The Messenger of God would have none of this. The Koran renews
the Mosaic prohibition in vehement language:
O ye who believe, devour not usury, doubling it again and
again! But fear God, that ye may prosper!25
And bestow not favors that thou mayest receive again with
increase . . .26
They who swallow down usury shall arise in the resurrection
only as he ariseth whom Satan hath infected by his touch. This,
for that they say, “Selling is only the like of usury,” and yet God
hath allowed selling and forbidden usury.27
And so on.
The Koranic condemnation of usury was upheld during the
period of Islamic tradition and emerged in the early legal textbooks
as a rigid prohibition: according to a leading authority, “the structure
of the greater part of the Moslem law of contract is explained by the
endeavour to enforce prohibition of ribā (usury) and maisir (gam-
bling) to the last detail of the law.”28
Ribā, in Islamic law, is an excess, according to a legal standard
of measurement (of capacity, not length) or weight, in one of two
counter-values opposed to each other in a contract of exchange, in
which such excess is stipulated as an obligation falling on one of
the parties, without any compensatory advantage being received
by that party. A few examples will make the matter clearer. Thus,
the exchange of 2 measures of barley for 1 of wheat is not usurious,
because, though both grains may be measured by capacity, they are
not homogeneous. Again, the exchange of 10 yards of Granadine silk
for 5 of Sevillian is not usurious, because silk is measured by length,
not capacity or weight. A further principal of ribā is that the two
articles must be exchanged simultaneously. Any stipulation that one
of the parties may delay performance renders the contract usurious,
and therefore defective and to some extent voidable.
The Koranic prohibition of the game of hazard (maisir) was
extended to gambling in general, and Islamic law insists that the
terms of a contract must be clearly stated. This requirement applies
with especial strictness to objects that can be weighed or measured
and are thus subject to ribā, no unspecified quantity being permitted.
18 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
A characteristic feature of Islamic law is the elaborate body of
rules governing sarf, the exchange of precious metals, especially in
the form of coins. “The Prophet said, ‘Sell Gold for Gold, from hand
to hand, at an equal rate according to weight, for any inequality in
point of weight is usury.’ ”29 The sale of gold for silver at an unequal
rate according to weight is, of course, permitted, but here too the
exchange must be from hand to hand. It was generally held that any
number of dirhems might be exchanged for a dinar, though learned
opinion was not unanimous on the point. The transfer of money by
suftaja was viewed with suspicion, since it was in the nature of the
contract that the two quantities could not be exchanged “from hand
to hand.”
Just as the Islamic laws against usury were more far-reaching and
pettifogging than the Judaic, so were the methods evolved to circum-
vent them more ingenious and elaborate than the Jewish evasionary
devices. Moslem commercial practice was brought into line with the
theory of the religious law by the hiyal or body of well-recognized
legal fictions which enabled their users to observe the letter of the
law while safely contravening its spirit. It was the task of the learned
hiyal lawyer to reconcile the activities of his client with the rulings
of the Islamic judge, and in course of time hundreds of devices, or
“transactions,” as they were euphemistically called, were evolved for
the purpose.
The earlier hiyal were simple. Several traditions are directed
against the double contract of sale, called in Arabic mukhatara. We
have seen the contract described in the Talmud and in the Code of
Maimonides. Works on Moslem law describe it in similar terms.30
The fact that the mukhatara was known in Medina as early as the
eighth century31 suggests that the Islamic merchants might have bor-
rowed it from their Jewish colleagues.
Other early evasionary devices used by Moslems were the sleep-
ing partnership, and the giving of land or a house as security for a
debt and allowing the creditor to enjoy the fruits, the usufruct rep-
resenting concealed interest on the loan. These contracts are men-
tioned in the Talmud. It was natural enough, in a world where Jews
and Moslems lived and worked side by side for centuries, and struck
countless bargains together, that the Moslems should have adopted
In Concealment of Usury 19
some of the hoary but effective methods of the Jews in evasion of the
common stumbling block to commerce, the laws against usury that
characterized both religions.
As time went on and the first religious zeal began to fade, the hiyal
lawyers took pride in working out for their clients, the merchants,
small masterpieces of legal construction which could not be upset by
the kadi, who was bound to the sacred law.
The Koran enjoins Moslems that when they contract a debt, be it
large or small, they are to go before a notary and instruct him to take
careful note of the terms, more particularly the date of repayment.
And, accordingly, written documents often formed an essential ele-
ment of hiyal. The more complicated hiyal normally consisted of
several transactions between the parties concerned, each of which
was perfectly legal in itself, and whose combined effect produced
the desired result. Each “transaction” was recorded in a separate
document. The documents were finally deposited in the hands of a
trustworthy intermediary, together with an unofficial covering docu-
ment which set out the real relationship between the parties, and the
real purpose of their agreement. Such a covering document is called
muwāta’a, “understanding.”32
Ibn Asim
Jurisprudence was a favorite profession in Moslem Spain, since it
offered the advantage of leading up to the higher posts of state. The
Malekite code was introduced in the first half of the ninth century,
and thereafter the Andalusian jurists devoted most of their energies to
commentating Malik’s Muwatta’ and the Mudawwana of his principal
follower, Ibn Sahnun. We need not proceed to list here the numer-
ous Andalusian writers who dealt with the subject of commercial con-
tracts,33 but rather illustrate the above remarks on usury in Islamic law
by glancing at the work of one of them alone: Ibn Asim (1359–1426),
chief kadi of Granada and an influential jurist. In his best-known treat-
tise, the Tuhfa, Ibn Asim devotes twenty-three chapters to the subject
of sale, eight to contracts of rent and hire, four to partnerships, compa-
nies, and trusts, and two to loans, deposits, and guarantees.34
In general, Ibn Asim follows the usual practice of Moslem jurists
in leaving the parties to a contract free to arrange their own terms
20 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
except where usury is concerned. Here our author is uncompromis-
ing. “To lend,” he says, “is legal; it is an act commonly practised in all
things except women. A loan must not produce a profit. If this is to
be its consequence it is unanimously forbidden.”35
Ibn Asim pays great attention to money-changing, insisting on the
rule that immediate delivery must be made by both parties, and that
the exchange of gold for gold or silver for silver is permissible only
in equal quantities (when measured by weight) or numbers (when
by number).36 Furthermore, he expressly forbids “transactions” in
matters involving the exchange of precious metals, especially where
credit deals are concerned, or where the amounts exchanged are
unequal.37 Ibn Asim is thus a stern upholder of the purity of Islamic
tradition. But we may doubt how far he succeeded, when he sat in
judgment at Granada, in frustrating the arrangements of the local
merchants and money-lenders.
ch r ist i a n t e ach i ng
The New Testament and Tradition
The history of the Christian doctrine of usury is more com-
plex than that of the Jewish or Islamic, since we have to consider not
only the sacred writings—in this case, the New Testament—and tra-
dition, but both canon and civil law, which were sometimes at vari-
ance on questions concerning usury.
In view of the importance the subject of usury was to assume in
the eyes of medieval Christians, it is noteworthy that (apart from the
story of how Christ overturned the tables of the money changers in
the Temple) the New Testament contributes only one significant text
to the debate: Luke VI:35, “but love ye your enemies, and do good,
and lend, hoping for nothing again.” Nor did the first Christians
evince the same eager interest in the niceties of the usury doctrine
as had been shown by the early rabbis. Prospective martyrs, one sup-
poses, lose much of their zest for hair-splitting.
True, the fathers of the Church whose writings constitute our
Christian tradition allude with abhorrence to usury. Saint Clement
of Alexandria (c. 150–211) reminds us that the Mosaic law forbids
lending at usury to a brother, and extends the prohibition to Chris-
tians by calling brother not only a man born of the same parents as
In Concealment of Usury 21
the lender, but belonging to the same tribe, sharing the same senti-
ments, and partaking of the same Logos.38 Saint Jerome (347–419)
remarks that the Old Testament forbids usury only between broth-
ers, but that the prophet Ezekiel regards a just man as “he that hath
not given forth upon usury,” whether to a brother or a stranger, and
that Saint Luke sets an even higher standard when he commands us
to “lend, hoping for nothing again.” Saint Jerome adds that usury
may arise in the loan of corn, oil, wine, and other agricultural prod-
ucts as well as in that of money.39 Saint Basil (330–79) describes the
humiliation of the borrower in such convincing terms that we feel
sure he must, at some time, have found himself in that uncomfortable
position.40 Saint Gregory of Nicea (c. 335–94),41 Saint Leo the Great
(c. 390–461),42 Saint John Chrysostom (344–407),43 Saint Ambrose
(339–97),44 and Saint Augustine (354–430),45 all condemn usury as
a sin against charity or justice, or both. But, as a general rule, the
fathers wrote with the indignation of moralists, not the objectivity
of legislators.
Gratian’s “Decretum”
As time went on, the western Church gradually stiffened her
attitude to usury.49 Gratian’s Decretum, compiled between 1139 and
1141, included several early canons that forbid the taking of usury by
clerics.50 The Council of Elvira, held about the year 300, prescribed
that lay usurers as well as clerics be reprimanded and, if persistent,
expelled from the Church. This disposition was confirmed by later
councils; and, in a letter to the bishops of Campania, Pope Leo the
Great (c. 390–461) also condemned usury for laymen.51 Included
in Gratian is the palea Ejiciens, formerly attributed to Saint John
Chrysostom but now thought to have been written by an unknown
author of the fifth or sixth century, and incorporated into the Decre-
tum about 1180. In it are found in embryo many of the arguments
In Concealment of Usury 23
that were used by the later medieval scholastics. The passage reflects
the standpoint of a holy man who feels only contempt for the things
of this world. According to the writer, “a merchant can seldom or
never be pleasing to God.” And,
of all merchants the most accursed is the usurer; for he sells
a thing given by God, not bought as a merchant buys, and in
addition to the interest he demands the return of his own thing,
taking away the other man’s with his, whereas a merchant does
not ask for the return of the thing he has sold.
By “a thing given by God” is generally understood “time.” The rest of
this utterance is explained by the principle of Roman law by which
the ownership of a thing lent in a mutuum passes to the borrower.
The palea proceeds:
It may be asked whether a man who lets a field in return for
the fruits, or a house for the rent, is not in the same position as
one who lends money at usury. Not so. Firstly, because money
was not meant to be used in any way except for purchasing;
secondly, because the owner of a field, by cultivating it, obtains
the crop, and the owner of a house can use it as a dwelling. Thus,
a man who lets a field or a house appears to give up the use of it
in return for money, and in a certain manner almost seems to
exchange profit for profit; but for hoarded money he gets no use;
and, thirdly, a field or a house deteriorates in use, but money lent
in a mutuum does not deteriorate or diminish.52
This is the most elaborate discussion of usury included in the
Decretum: we find nothing to compare with the careful expositions
contained in the Talmud or in the writings of Maimonides, or with
the detailed chapters that Moslem authors allotted to the subject.
Up to the time of Gratian, then—that is, up to about the middle of
the twelfth century—the Roman Church in condemning usury did
not go beyond simple, general recommendations. Evasionary devices
were not considered at all.
The Decretum became the standard textbook for the study of canon
law, first at Bologna and then at Paris and other universities where
the subject was taught. It inspired a large number of abridgments,
24 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
often preceded by an introduction. Among the earlier commenta-
tors were John of Spain, Lawrence of Spain, John of Petesella, and
Bernard of Compostela, all of whom wrote in the late twelfth or early
thirteenth centuries.
The “Decretals”
Nearly a century passed between the compilation of Gratian’s
Decretum (1139–41) and that of the Decretals of Gregory IX (1234),
which add to Gratian the papal canons and decretals issued during
that period. We may follow in the Decretals the growth and matur-
ing of the Catholic doctrine of usury, which tended, on the whole,
toward an ever-increasing severity. From the vague disapproval
shown in Gratian we pass, in the Decretals, to a lively abhorrence
of usury and to an attempt to define the practice more precisely, the
better to expunge it from the Christian community.
This stiffening of the Church’s attitude toward usury coincided
with the increasingly severe persecution and resulting impoverish-
ment of the Jews that had begun at the time of the first crusade, and
with the waning of Moslem power and prosperity in the Mediterra-
nean and the transfer of economic leadership from its southern to its
northern shores and from east to west. It was natural that Christian
merchants should, at about this period, have taken over some of the
methods of eastern commerce and banking, and equally natural that
the Church should have opposed the adoption of business customs
that were not only contrary to the spirit of Christian teaching but
tainted with Judaism, Mohammedanism, and heresy. Dislike of Jews,
fear and hatred of Saracens, and disquiet at the deepening absorp-
tion of Christians in their business affairs, all perhaps played a part in
the intensification of the Church’s campaign against usury.
The first of the canons on usury included in the Decretals was
issued by Alexander III in 1163: it prescribes that where land or other
property is held in pledge, and the lender enjoys the fruits, these
must be taken into account in the final settlement of the debt.53 It
had been customary for ecclesiastical bodies to invest their surplus
funds in this way, which was now closed to them as well as to laymen.
The Fourth Lateran Council, held in 1179, deplores the spread of
usury in all countries, and decrees that Christian usurers are to be
In Concealment of Usury 25
excommunicated and denied Christian burial.54 Usurers must make
restitution even for usury practised in the past, and their heirs must
do likewise.55
Alexander III, in a letter to the Archbishop of Genoa, accepts as
not necessarily usurious a practice common in that city. This was
when merchants buy pepper, cinnamon, or other merchandise
which at the time of the contract are worth not more than five
libras, and promise in a public instrument to pay the vendor
six libras at the end of a stated term. While this contract is not
exactly usurious the vendor is nevertheless blameworthy, unless
there is a possibility that the value of the goods may have varied
by the time payment is due.56
Urban III (1185–87) quotes the words of Christ, “and lend, hop-
ing for nothing again,”57 stressing the word “hope.” If the mutuum is
made in the hope or expectation of profit, then the lender must be
regarded as a usurer. The same criterion of intention also applies to
credit sales.58
The decretals of Innocent III (1198–1216) are concerned not so
much with doctrine as with the means of enforcing the already exis-
tent canon law. The pope enjoins Christian princes to force Jews to res-
titute usury taken from Christian debtors, and invites the community
of Christians to abstain from all relations with Jewish usurers.59 Usury
must be restituted even when the debtor has sworn to waive his right
to restitution.60 Public usurers may be convicted and sentenced by the
ecclesiastical courts, whether or not the accuser chooses to appear in
court.61 In a conciliar decree, Innocent denounces Jews who extort
“heavy and immoderate” usury.62 He specifically condemns fictitious
sale and resale agreements made in concealment of usury.63
The important decretal, Naviganti, issued in a letter from Greg-
ory IX (1227–41) to his Spanish chaplain, Raymond of Peñafort, him-
self the compiler of the Decretals, falls into two parts. The first appears
to refer to the sea-loan, a contract that goes back to Greek and Roman
antiquity. Money was advanced on a ship or cargo, to be repaid with a
premium if the voyage prospered but not repaid at all if the cargo were
lost. Some modern scholars, rightly I think, regard the contract as a
primitive form of insurance. The decretal runs: “A person who lends
26 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
a certain sum of money to a merchant travelling by sea or going to the
fairs is to be considered a usurer if he does so on the understanding
that he is to receive some addition to the principal on the ground that
he is taking over the risk.”
This utterance, taken at its face value, strikes not only at the sea-
loan but at every form of risk-bearing partnership, and the commen-
tators performed prodigies of ingenuity in their efforts to reconcile
the canon with the legitimate claims of commerce.
The second part of Naviganti is more permissive. It takes up the
view of Alexander III that a possible alteration in the value of a com-
modity sold may justify the repayment of more than was received:
A person who pays ten shillings and contracts to be repaid a
certain measure of corn, wine, or oil at some future date, even
if the merchandise be worth more at that date, is not on that
account to be considered a usurer, provided there is a genuine
doubt at the time of payment as to what may be the value of the
goods at the time of delivery. Similarly, a person who sells cloth,
wine, oil, or other goods in order to be paid more than their
present value at some future date is also to be excused.64
The Sextus and Clementinae, two compilations of canon law
that bring us to the end of the pontificate of Clement V (1305–14),
include several enactments on usury that were practically panic mea-
sures. They reflect the powerlessness of the Church to stem the tide
of credit transactions in which usury played its inevitable part, and
attest the growing use of legal fictions as a cover for the various forms
of loan contract.
The Council of Lyons (1274) confirms the severe treatment pre-
scribed for usurers by the Fourth Lateran Council, adding some fur-
ther measures that worsened their lot still more and virtually turned
them into outcasts,65 while the Council of Vienne (1311) threatened
with excommunication any civil ruler or magistrate who condoned
usury or forced debtors to comply with usurious contracts. Since
such contracts—so runs the decree—are generally hidden under
“diverse colors” and by means of “exquisite frauds,” money-lenders
are required to submit their books to the inspection of the ecclesi-
astical authorities. Civil laws protecting usurers are to be repealed
In Concealment of Usury 27
within three months, and anyone who presumes to deny the sinful-
ness of usury is to be tried as a heretic.66
These canons complete the bare skeleton of the Church’s official
teaching on the subject of usury. No important modification in the
canon law was made until well on into the nineteenth century. But,
beneath this apparently firm surface, many canonists and theologians
were working out the implications of the Church’s doctrine, and, in
the course of their activities, opening cracks that contributed to an
eventual weakening of the fabric. Thus, no sooner had the usury
doctrine formed and crystallized than the very intransigence of the
Church’s attitude forced her most faithful sons to seek some measure
of compromise with the activities of the commercial world. In fulfil-
ment of this task they followed the same path as had been trodden by
their forerunners in the Jewish and Islamic communities.
usu ry i n spa i n
Saint Raymond of Peñafort
A key figure in the history of usury in Spain is that of Saint
Raymond of Peñafort (1180–1278), the compiler of the Decretals and
the patron saint of canon lawyers. A member of a noble Catalonian
family, as a young man Raymond taught philosophy at Barcelona. So
far as it is known, he did not leave Catalonia until he was 30, when he
went to Italy, studying and later teaching law at Bologna. Raymond
entered the newly-founded Dominican Order in 1219, and in that
year returned to Barcelona.
Raymond’s life work was closely bound up with the detection
and suppression of heresy, which since the second half of the twelfth
century had been widespread in southern Europe. The stronghold
of the Albigensian heretics was at Toulouse, and there was a danger
that the anticlerical movement might spread into the neighboring
territories of Catalonia and Aragon. Raymond’s zeal in the Church’s
cause attracted the attention of Pope Gregory IX, who in 1232 called
him to Rome as his chaplain and secretary. At Raymond’s request,
inquisitors were sent into Aragon. But this early attempt to found
the Inquisition in Spain met with only moderate success, partly for
lack of funds and partly because of the public hostility it aroused,
culminating in the murder of the chief inquisitor.
28 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
Raymond returned to Barcelona for the second time in 1236,
and two years later was appointed general of the Dominican Order.
He was active in its proselytizing work, and established a school of
Hebrew studies, probably in Murcia, and of Arabic studies in Tunis,
for the training of missionaries. In connection with this aspect of
Raymond’s work, we may remember that it was at his request that St.
Thomas Aquinas wrote his Summa contra Gentiles.
In Raymond’s day Barcelona was a busy Mediterranean seaport.
Hence, perhaps, his interest in questions of commercial morality,
attested by the inclusion among his writings of a manual for the
spiritual guidance of merchants.67 The problems of usury engaged
Raymond’s anxious attention. In a book of instructions for archdea-
cons, probably written in Barcelona, he enjoins the latter, on arriving
in a parish on a visit of inspection, to inquire before anything else
whether there are any notorious usurers among the parishioners, and,
if so, what form of usury they practice. Among other “manifold shifts
and stratagems” Raymond condemns the following: profiting from
the fruits of a pledge; taking horses in pledge and over-charging for
their fodder; forestalling; usury cloaked as a partnership “as when a
man lends money to a merchant on condition that he is to share in the
profits but not in the losses”; usury disguised as a penalty for failure
to return the principal by a certain date; and usury charged through
a third party.68 Of these devices we have seen that the first and fourth
were condemned by the Talmud and classed by Maimonides as mere
quasi-usury, and that the fifth and sixth were also among the stock
Jewish subterfuges.
There is nothing in Raymond’s instructions to show that they
reflect conditions peculiar to Spain. The devices he mentions were,
on the contrary, in common use among the Christians of southern
Europe in his day.69 Yet the inclusion in his list of several traditional
Jewish devices suggests that Raymond may well have come across
them in Barcelona, the city where he spent most of his life, and the
home of a flourishing Jewish culture as well as of a thriving commerce.
In an influential treatise on canon law, probably written on his
return to Barcelona from Italy in 1236, Raymond deals more fully
with the subject of usury.70 His remarks are of considerable interest
insofar as he belonged to the first generation of scholars who sought
In Concealment of Usury 29
to reconcile the legitimate needs of commerce with the severity of
the Church’s attitude. In this attempt Raymond, together with oth-
ers among his contemporaries, drew upon the Roman law which, at
the time when he was working at Bologna, was in process of being
rediscovered and intensively studied. Usury was not forbidden under
Roman law, and it was desirable to harmonize the permissiveness
of the admired Roman system with the strictness of the Church’s
prohibition.
A solution to the problem was found ready to hand in the Roman
concept of interesse, “that which is between” the amount due under
a contract and the amount actually paid or damages arising from the
default of one of the parties. This concept offered a neat and intel-
lectually respectable way round an awkward dilemma. Full use was
made of it. Henceforth the Catholic analysis of usury may be seen
as a gradual but steady widening of the field of “compensatory” or
legitimate interest, as contrasted with the “lucrative” or forbidden
variety, until today any additional payment beyond the principal of
a loan is regarded as “interest” and not “usury” so long as it does not
too grossly exceed the customary limits.
Among the titles to interesse approved by Raymond, provided they
are genuine and not a mere cloak for usury, are the following: expense
incurred in caring for pledged property, loss suffered by the lender
owing to the borrower’s failure to return the loan on the agreed date,
and loss of the profit the lender might have been expected to make
if, instead of letting himself be persuaded into lending his money, he
had used it for the purpose of his business (e.g., to buy merchandise
for subsequent sale).71
Raymond confirms the meaning we have given to the controver-
sial decretal, Naviganti, directed against the sea-loan. As he was the
Pope’s secretary and the person to whom the decretal was addressed,
we may assume that he understood its significance perfectly. Some
commentators, Raymond says, hold that the sea-loan is not a
mutuum and therefore not a source of usury, on the ground that in
a mutuum the ownership of the thing lent and the risk of loss always
passes to the borrower. In the sea-loan the risk remains for the lender,
and so the contract is really one of hire. Raymond regards this argu-
ment as of doubtful validity. Such contracts, he thinks, are usually
30 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
made in fraud of usury, and are best avoided, since “the thoughts of
men cannot be hidden from the Almighty.”72
Insofar as a sea-loan, when made for the outward voyage only,
sometimes entailed repayment in a currency other than that originally
lent, it partook of the nature of an exchange transaction. Raymond
asks, “If a man lends 1000 [silver] shillings in Barcelona, bargaining
that 100 gold shillings be returned to him in Ceuta, and he knows or
believes the said gold shillings to be worth more [in Ceuta than the
silver shillings in Barcelona] but he nevertheless assumes the risk, is
he committing usury?”73
In this case, Raymond replies, the contract cannot possibly be one
of hire, because money by its very nature is not susceptible to hire.
We should do well to regard the contract as usurious, especially since
those who make such a mutuum do so in the hope of pecuniary gain.
This is the first reference to an exchange-contract made in any of the
scholastic treatises that I have read.
Raymond was familiar with the double contract of sale and
resale used as a cloak for a loan, a favorite device, as we have seen,
among Jews and Moslems. He permits a genuine sale with the right
of redemption, but “it is to be understood that the contract be not
made in concealment of usury.”
ol d de v ices i n a n e w wor l d
The year 1469, which saw the marriage of Ferdinand, heir
to the throne of Aragon, and Isabella, heiress to that of Castile, may
conveniently be taken as marking the end of the Middle Ages in
Spain. The union of the two young people, who in 1474 and 1479
assumed their crowns, announced the opening of a new era. True,
we cannot yet speak of a united Spain. The two kingdoms were to
retain their separate parliaments, laws, and systems of taxation until
the time of the Bourbons. Still, the concept of “Spain” was coming
to replace that of “the Spains” in the minds of the people. The last
decades of the fifteenth century brought a series of great achieve-
ments and innovations that combined to make that concept a real-
ity. The conquest of Granada severed the last political link with the
Maghreb, and the imposition of religious unity throughout Castile
40 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
and Aragon confirmed the place of Spain among the kingdoms of the
Catholic West. The voyages of discovery and the winning of a vast
colonial empire, the final union of the Crowns of Castile and Ara-
gon under Charles I, and the coming of the new and foreign dynasty
of Habsburg, were further steps that helped to bring Spain into the
modern world and transform her into a great European power.
And yet, running through the new Spain like veins in marble, the
traces of her multi-racial, religious, linguistic, and cultural past were
not to be effaced. Even today they are clear enough, in many branches
of the national life. How much more evident must they have been in
the sixteenth century!
In our own little field of economic thought and its reflection in
business practice, the above remarks may be illustrated by showing
how some of the age-old evasionary devices lingered on into the new
era, the “age of mercantilism,” as it is sometimes called. Their survival
is of greater importance for the history of economic doctrine than
may appear at first sight. As Schumpeter says, “the very high level of
Spanish sixteenth-century economics was due chiefly to the scho-
lastic contributions.”93 And the Spanish scholastics devoted much
of their effort in this field to examining the permissibility or other-
wise of the evasionary devices that still flourished in the commercial
world. Thus, the old game of handball that had for long centuries
been carried on between rabbis, kadis, priests, and merchants was
played out in Spain with a virtuosity unequalled since the days of
the Babylonian rabbis. In my third chapter I shall describe some of
this scholastic work, and contrast it with that of the political econo-
mists who wrote at the same period. Here I wish merely to show that
certain of the traditional evasionary devices not only survived in the
new Spain but took on fresh life and vigor there.
Dry Exchange
Perhaps the most striking feature of the economy of Spain in the
sixteenth century is the increase in her supplies of gold and silver
caused by imports of the precious metals from the recently discov-
ered Indies.
Small quantities of gold and silver began to reach Spain in the
first decades of the century. The exploitation of the “silver mountain”
In Concealment of Usury 41
of Potosí from 1545 onward greatly increased the supply of silver to
Spain, and imports attained their greatest volume between 1581 and
1630, after which they began to decline.
The first half of the sixteenth century saw a dramatic rise in the
Castilian price level, which continued until the end of the century.
The increase in prices began in Seville, home port of the treasure
fleet, and spread through Andalusia and New Castile, and thence to
Old Castile and Valencia. Since the curves of treasure imports and
of prices do not correspond exactly (the former rising more rapidly
in the second half of the century, and the latter in the first half ),
the phenomenal increase in Spanish prices and wages—a fourfold
growth between 1501 and 1600—cannot be explained, as contem-
porary observers often explained it, by the simple application of the
quantity theory of money. But, while opinions differ as to the precise
effect of treasure imports on the Spanish price level, no historian has
gone so far as to doubt that the influx of precious metals helped in
some measure to inflate prices.
A vivid picture of the inflationary economy of the period, and of
business life in Seville, has been left us by the Dominican friar, Tomás
de Mercado, whose celebrated handbook of commercial morality
was first published in 1569. The city of Seville, he says, “is on fire with
all manner of business. There are great real-exchanges for all fairs,
within and without the kingdom, sales and purchases on credit and
for cash, and for huge sums, great shipments, and baratas for many
thousands and millions, such as neither Tyre nor Alexandria in their
day could equal.”94
In this whirlpool of commerce there could not fail to be sin and
fraud, sometimes committed in ignorance of the Church’s teach-
ing. Mercado proposes to light the merchant’s way by offering him a
guide in his own vulgar tongue.
Credit, continues Mercado, is the Seville merchant’s most press-
ing requirement: “Merchants and money changers live in such a
confusion of contracts that a rich merchant is no longer content to
buy and sell, but tries to deal on the exchanges, so as to find ready
in every place the money he so direly needs.”95 The business of the
exchanges, Mercado goes on to explain, “embraces East and West,
and takes in both the Poles.” It is a gentlemanly occupation “not like
42 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
usury, though indeed the two are closely related (but people do not
generally admit to following an evil way of life).”96
“Real exchange,” the bona fide exchange of a sum of money in one
place for an equal sum elsewhere, is permissible. But the practice has
arisen of lending money at usury and disguising the contract as an
exchange-deal. Such a usurious contract is called “dry exchange.”
Dry exchanges [continues Mercado] are exchanges that exist not,
nor have being, but are imaginary, and bear a blank space for a
name. They are scarcely to be numbered. Firstly, the gentlemen
and princes take out a great quantity of bills drawn on Naples,
Antwerp, or Coimbra. Where they have no money, nor expect
to have it except on paper, but only to gain time, they draw a
first bill of exchange on some person in that place, and mostly
there is no such person. The bill does not so much as leave the
changer’s desk until it matures. Then, when it does, he draws
another in the name of his factor [in the distant place, of course]
and says that, having no funds for that payment, he has taken
it on exchange at so much per cent. And in the six months of
pretended coming and going the gentleman has to pay for his
pomp at the rate of 25%.97
Sometimes a little more subtlety was employed:
Occasionally, being somewhat scrupulous, and thinking the fault
lies in not sending off the bill, the changer actually does remit
it to Flanders, instructing his correspondents to protest it and
rechange it at the market rate.
But these scruples were rare:
Others, to spare themselves such vain work, if the customer says
he has no one to answer for him, offer to do so for a commission
of 2%. All these frauds, first, second, and third are steps that lead
straight to hell.
The subject of the “exchanges” has been thoroughly investigated
in recent years.98 However, a short commentary on Mercado’s text
may perhaps be called for.
In Concealment of Usury 43
The transfer of money by some kind of document, avoiding the
necessity of transporting the coins themselves, must go back to the
very beginnings of long-distance trade. I have already mentioned
one or two of the instruments used by Jewish and Islamic traders
to convey money from country to country. We have also seen that
the transfer of debt was long frowned upon by the orthodox of both
religions, and that money-changing was suspect (in Islam, highly so),
since usury could easily be hidden in the exchange-rates.
The exact mechanics of an exchange-transaction do not matter
for the purpose of this study. Whether the instrument used to per-
form the exchange was called by a Hebrew, Arabic, or Latin name,
or took the form of a notarial contract, bill of exchange, or informal
private letter, the effect was the same. Money present was exchanged
for money absent, as the medieval phrase had it, and if the two
amounts were in different currencies, as was usually the case, they
were exchanged at the market rate.
The exchange-contract was known to Roman law and was probably
common in the earlier Middle Ages. The oldest bills of exchange that
have come down to us date from the twelfth century. One of the earli-
est records of an exchange-contract concerns an Islamic city: in 1157
a Genoese businessman mentions “£10 Genoese taken in exchange
against a promise to repay in Tunis.”99 In a bill of 1156 a certain Soli-
man, probably the Jew, Soloman of Salerno, promises to repay in
Alexandria money and goods received in Italy. Other bills of about
the same period refer to advances made in Genoa in local money and
repayable in Provisine currency at the next fair of Champagne. Some-
times the contract stipulates that if the payment is not duly made the
debt must be settled in Genoa on the return of the caravan bringing
home the Genoese merchants from the fair.100 Such a contract is the
prototype of the “exchange and rechange” of a later period. It may
have been a genuine transfer of funds, or it may have been a straight
loan disguised as an exchange transaction. If the latter, it is an early
example of the “dry exchange” we are here concerned with.
As the rates of exchange between the different coinages fluctuated
continually, as well as the rate at which bills could be bought and
sold, a broker could make a profit by speculating on the exchanges,
44 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
“giving” money where it was scarce and dear, and “taking” it where it
was plentiful and cheap.
It would seem, too, that the changer, or broker, commonly charged
a commission for his services. Here the concept of interesse, derived
from Roman law, came into play. In 1311 and 1349 the French Crown
authorized the payment of interesse on bills payable at the fairs of
Champagne and Brie, which were held six times a year. Up to 15 per-
cent could be charged on bills payable at the next fair “because at these
fairs large loans have of necessity to be made, and credit is given from
fair to fair.” In 1419 the fairs of Lyons were granted similar privileges.
In Flanders, in the sixteenth century, the exchanges functioned in
much the same way. Merchants made loans carrying interesse to other
merchants who were travelling to a distant country, justifying their
profit on the pretext of lucrum cessans. It was argued that, as money
was the merchant’s tool, he had a right to compensation when he
deprived himself of it in order to make a loan. This usage was sanc-
tioned by Charles V in an Act of 1540, in which “interesse is allowed
to good merchants according to the profit they could reasonably
expect to make, up to 12%.”101
But lenders were not content with this relatively moderate rate of
interesse, or with whatever profit they could make by speculating on
the exchanges. They made loans not only to merchants who genu-
inely needed money for trading purposes but to all-comers, charg-
ing exorbitant usura made up of interesse where it was permitted and
the proceeds of a fictitious rate of exchange fixed in advance. This,
broadly speaking, was the “dry exchange” condemned by Mercado.
From the twelfth century onwards “dry exchange” was widely used
in Catholic countries as a cloak for loans at usury. In the sixteenth it
was widespread throughout Castile where it seems to have become a
favorite device for evading the civil and ecclesiastical prohibition of
usury. The popularity of “dry exchange” was no doubt owing to the dif-
ficulty of distinguishing between a dry and a real exchange contract.102
The Mohatra
In the shadow of the dry exchange favored by “gentlemen and
princes” there flourished in Castile another ancient device, one less
genteel, perhaps, but better suited to the needs of humbler folk. This
In Concealment of Usury 45
was none other than the mohatra, or double contract of talmudic
times, a device which, as we have seen, was half-approved by the Bab-
ylonian rabbis, fully sanctioned by Maimonides, and often woven by
the Islamic lawyers into their elaborate webs of legal fiction.
The contract is condemned in a manual for the use of confessors,
published in Saragossa in 1552. The priest is instructed to ask the pen-
itent: “Have you sold any merchandise to a person who could not
pay for it immediately, and, having done so, have you bought it back
at a lower price, paying at once? If so, you have committed usury.”103
Nine years previously the author of a similar manual, published at
Medina del Campo, had observed that:
At the fairs there is scarce any business but the borrowing of
money at usury and the taking of mohatras. All is done through
the brokers, which ill-fated wretches are left with the lesser part
of the profit and the greater part of the guilt, for they run after
these customers, importune those, and deceive them all with
their lies, promises, and perjuries.104
The double contract was condemned not only by the Church
but also by the State. It is clearly described in a law of 1543 directed
against “mohatras and trapazas.”105
On account of the many dealers and money-lenders who travel
through the Adelantamientos,106 the farmers and the very poor
suffer great distress. They enter into contracts and fraudulent
schemes by which they bind themselves for large sums and
receive much less than the amount they promise to repay, buying
goods on credit and immediately afterwards selling them for
cash, sometimes to the very same merchants who have sold them
the goods.107
Furthermore, instead of hunting down and punishing these “trad-
ers and usurers who by such wiles and deceits destroy the poor,” the
local authorities turn a blind eye to their activities, “being more
mindful of their own interests than of the public weal.”
It was not only at the fairs, then, that the double contract flour-
ished. In certain districts of Castile, namely the Adelantamientos, it
was the common resort of poor people in 1543. The Adelantamientos
46 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
included Leon and Burgos, both of which had been important cen-
ters of Jewish commerce throughout the Middle Ages. It seems rea-
sonable to suppose that the mohatra or double contract, which I have
shown to be of Jewish origin, was among the devices used by medi-
eval Jewish money-lenders to conceal usury, and that after the expul-
sion of the Jews in 1492 it continued to be used among Christians,
especially those of Jewish antecedence, in the parts of Castile where
it had been most firmly rooted.
The use of the mohatra (or barata, as the double contract was
often called) was by no means confined to the poorer borrower. We
have seen that Tomás de Mercado, writing in 1669, mentions “baratas
for many thousands and millions” as familiar features of the Seville
business world. He describes the contract in several passages:
Another ocean of fraud are the baratas that are here in use. . . .
The origin of this business was and remains the want of
money in which many find themselves. They cannot borrow in
exchange, because the term allowed for repayment is very short
and they desire it to be long.108 They fear that by dealing in
exchange and rechange from fair to fair they will lose more than
if they take a barata, and so they arrange one in which they can
get whatever they need for the present.109
The barata, then, was the resort of those who needed long-term
credit. Mercado goes on to explain that there are two kinds of barata,
one being permissible and the other forbidden. We may call them
“real” and “dry,” perhaps.
The first sort of barata consists “in buying a quantity of clothing
on credit and selling it immediately for cash, at so much less than it
is worth. The cheapness of the merchandise invites everyone to buy,
and so, by losing 25 or 30%, the borrowers are able to raise ready
cash.”
Mercado regards the contract as permissible for the borrower,
provided he sells the merchandise openly. Indeed, he is performing
a public service by selling his goods cheaply. But the merchant who
sells him the clothing on credit is to be looked on with suspicion. He
has probably charged too high a price for his merchandise, given bad
or unsaleable goods or otherwise “thrust in the dagger up to the hilt”
In Concealment of Usury 47
because he sees that “the poor man is in desperate need, with the rope
round his neck, as they say.”
The second kind of barata is called “infernal.” This is “when the
very same merchant who sells the clothing on credit buys it back
again for cash, paying 25 or 30 percent less than the price he sold it
for, though often the goods have not even left his house or shop.”
Mercado disapproves of this type of barata: “Even the common peo-
ple, without much philosophy and only by the light of their natural
reason, think ill of the lender who buys the merchandise back again.
They hold him in no good opinion, though they do not condemn or
reprove anyone else who may buy the goods.”110
As Saravia had observed twenty years before, dealings in baratas
were largely in the hands of corredores—those brokers or commission-
agents without whose services, even today, it is difficult to transact
the smallest piece of business in certain parts of Spain.111 According
to Mercado, the brokers were often parties to the deal. Touts were
sent out to fish for customers:
A broker arrives from the market and says: “Fifty bales of satin
or a hundred boxes of cocoa are being sold cheap. If you want
to make a thousand pieces over the deal, give me the money,”
and he only wants it so that the borrower may have the use of it.
Then he makes out a receipt for the satin or the cocoa, though
generally he has never even seen them, nor ever could, except in
the land of Cockaigne. But they all understand one another and
turn a blind eye to the fraud.112
Occasionally there would come forward some simple-minded
person who was unfamiliar with the device:
I once saw a broker offer the business to a rich blacksmith in so bold
and care-free a manner that the smith took him at his word. He
handed over two thousand ducats, no little pleased at the prospect
of earning two hundred in each thousand. But when he found
out the truth he undid the contract like a good Christian, being
unwilling to take interesse arising out of such a diabolical fraud.113
Few were so ingenuous. The hoary double contract was, as a rule,
recognized by all. We have already noted its use in medieval Italy.
48 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
A scholar who studied the contract observed, however, that it was
particularly widely diffused in Spain, and in view more especially of
its Arab name, suggested that the Christian peoples of Europe “all
took it from a single source: the Moslem practice of contracts, with
which they had become acquainted through their own relations
with the Arabs.”114 While I do not dispute the use of the mohatra
among Moslems in Spain and elsewhere, I think that the contract
may be regarded as primarily Jewish. The correspondence between
the talmudic, Maimonidean, and modern descriptions of the moha-
tra leaves, it seems to me, little doubt on that score. As regards the
name, mohatra, I have been unable to find any instance of its use in
Spain before 1543, though I cannot believe that the word was not in
use before that date.
The double contract was to keep its popularity for many years
to come. Some theologians began tentatively to condone it, calling
down the contempt of their opponents. Among the latter was Pascal,
who, in his attack on the Spanish Jesuit Antonio de Escobar, made
skilful use of Escobar’s rather half-hearted disapproval of the moha-
tra.115 As late as 1679, Pope Innocent XI renewed the Church’s con-
demnation of the contract, and threatened with excommunication
any who should venture to defend its legality. We may suppose that
in the course of the eighteenth century the mohatra fell gradually
out of use together with other evasionary devices, the merging of the
once well-separated concepts of interesse and usura having by that
time rendered them superfluous.
The Census
As for the census, which may reasonably be surmised to have origi-
nated in reply to the prohibition of usury, it had long since become
the general and respectable recourse of the Spanish capitalist. Never-
theless, it did not escape the attention of the Spanish doctors, many
of whom devoted chapters, and even entire treatises, to the subject.116
Tomás de Mercado defines the census as “the pension and tribute
that one person binds himself to pay to another in particular,” and
tells us that there are two kinds of census, the “reservative, customary
between ecclesiastics,” and the “consignative,” in common use among
the laity. A reservative census is
In Concealment of Usury 49
when one party gives the other a benefice or a dignity, or some
vineyards, olive-orchards, pastures, or houses, reserving to
himself a certain quantity of such fruits and rents as the property
may bring in. We see this continually in the benefices and
prebends of the Church; it is a thing so widely introduced that a
man rarely acquires a benefice without it.
Mercado approves the contract on the ground that it is the sole con-
cern of ecclesiastics, to whom it is fully familiar.
The consignative census, “the contract the vulgar engage in, and
which is somewhat suspicious,” does not seem to differ in any mate-
rial point from the reservative. It occurs “when one party gives the
other, let us say, 1,000 ducats on houses, hereditaments, or other
property, on condition that the latter pays him a certain annual rent,
either in money, which is usual, or in wine, wheat, scarlet grain or
fruit.” Some census were perpetual and others redeemable. The con-
tract, says Mercado, is very confusing to the ignorant, who are apt to
mistake it for a mutuum, but essentially it is the sale of a right to a
yearly payment of money or produce, secured on real estate.117
This old evasionary device (as we may suppose it to be) enjoyed
great popularity in sixteenth-century Spain. González de Cellorigo
was to lament in 1600 that:
All the ills of Spain proceed from shunning what naturally
sustains us and turning to what destroys republics, when they
place their wealth in money and in the income derived from
census-contracts, which like a general plague have reduced these
realms to abject poverty, since all or most men have desired to
live by this means, on the interest they get from their money,
without considering where they are to find what they require for
such a way of life. This is the thing that has so obviously ruined
this republic and the census-holders, because, thinking only of
getting an income, they have renounced the virtuous processes of
the crafts, commerce, husbandry, and all that naturally sustains
mankind.118
The Mosaic prohibition of usury, then, presented the same dilemma
to the members of the three religious communities of medieval Spain.
50 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
Should the taboo be observed in its original purity or circumvented
to suit the facts of business life? Jews, Moslems, and Christians in
turn chose the second course, but, in each case, only after a tenacious,
centuries-long struggle.
What effect, we may wonder, did the attempt to abolish usury
have on the life of medieval Spain? It is difficult to agree with those
who hold that the civil and ecclesiastical laws against usury greatly
hampered the economic development of the Peninsula. In the first
place, many lenders were Jews and Moors, and it was not until the
middle of the fourteenth century that these were forbidden to lend
at a moderate rate of usury. Secondly, Christian lenders found ways
of evading the ban (we have examined only a few of them). In the
words of the Catholic kings, though by divine and human law usury
was forbidden and severely punished, this did not suffice to restrain
it, nor the greed that moved usurers to possess themselves of other
men’s goods by cunning and evil means. We can probably take this
pronouncement at its face value.
It was perhaps fortunate that the anti-usury laws could not be
fully enforced. One of their chief aims was to protect the needy
peasants from the depredations of the money-lender. Yet, speaking
as one who has farmed in Spain for many years, I am sure that with-
out some means of getting credit to tide him over the bad years—and
bad years, in Spain, have always been frequent—it could no more
have been possible for the medieval Spanish farmer to scratch a living
from the soil than it is for his modern successor.
This conclusion is borne out by the experience of a fifteenth-
century magnate, Don Pedro Fernández de Velasco, Count of
Haro, who actually succeeded in repressing Jewish usury through-
out his vast domains. The result was disastrous. The vassals com-
plained that it was far worse to get no credit at all than to pay
usury, since they were now obliged to sell their cattle, wool, and
corn in advance of the crop, and begged the count to restore the
old state of affairs. Being unwilling to do so, Don Pedro was forced
to furnish three of his towns with stocks of money and grain that
could be borrowed by the farmers. But, so far as is known, there
were few such public granaries in Spain at this period. We may
safely assume that if the rapacity of the medieval money-lender
In Concealment of Usury 51
brought ruin to some, the provision of credit saved others from
that fate.
We may perhaps venture to ask another question, one that is
more far-reaching in its implications. Spain, it has often been said,
is a difficult country to govern. Her people are—have always been—
individualists, mistrustful of authority, indifferent to the public
good, united only in the evasion of any law that does not suit their
purpose. And it must be confessed that this criticism (a commonplace
among travellers in Spain from the sixteenth century onwards, as well
as among Spaniards themselves) is not entirely unfounded. Can the
last of these alleged defects, the light-hearted flouting of tiresome
regulations—the observance, let us say, of the letter, not the spirit, of
the law—be yet another legacy of the complex Spanish past? Could
it be that the Jewish and Moslem custom of evading outworn taboos
by the use of legal fictions (a habit by no means confined to usury
but extending to many other walks of life) and the adoption, in turn
and for similar reasons, of evasive devices by Christians, have helped
in some measure to bring law itself into contempt? Legal fictions, it
is true, were far from being unknown to Roman law. But their func-
tion was the relatively minor one of providing the legal framework
for current practice with a minimum of innovation and disturbance:
in Jewish and Islamic law it was that of evading a positive and solemn
commandment of religion.
not es
1. Las siete Partidas del rey D. Alfonso el Sabio, in Los códigos españoles
(Madrid, 1847–51), Vols. 2, 3, and 4, partida 2, tit. 20, laws 6 and 7.
2. The Babylonian Talmud, ed. J. Epstein (London, 1938–52), Vol. (not
numbered) Baba Mezi’a, 60b–64b. The square brackets used in the quota-
tions from the Talmud are the translator’s.
3. Miles Mosse, The Arraignment and Conviction of Usurie (London,
1595). Reprinted in Tudor Economic Documents, ed. R. H. Tawney and
Eileen Power (London, 1924), Vol. 3, pp. 377–86.
4. Blaise Pascal, Lettres Provinciales (1656). The eighth letter discusses
various devices used to evade the charge of taking usury, and allegedly sanc-
tioned in current manuals of moral theology. Among them is the mohatra,
“quand un homme qui a affaire de vingt pistoles achète d’un marchand des
52 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
étoffes pour trent pistoles, payables dans un an, et les lui revend à l’heure
même pour vingt pistoles comptant.”
Pascal’s chief victim, Antonio de Escobar, in his Universae Theologiae
moralis receptores (Lyons, 1652), similarly defines the mohatra contract as
“celui par lequel on achète des étoffes chèrement et à crédit, pour les reven-
dre au même instant a la même personne argent comptant at à bon marché.”
Escobar admits that the mohatra is forbidden by the canon law but adds
that it is permissible “encore même que celui qui vend et rachète ait pour
intention principale le dessein de profiter, pourvu seulment qu’en vendant
il n’excède pas le plus haut prix des étoffes de cette sorte, et qu’en rachetant il
n’en passe pas le moindre; et qu’on n’en convienne pas auparavant en termes
exprès ni autrement.” The French version of the Latin original is Pascal’s.
Some theologians went further, and ruled that the illicit profit made in a
mohatra need not be restituted. But, as we shall see later in this study, with
respect to the mohatra the Christian theologians of the seventeenth century
had still some way to go before reaching the completely permissive position
of the Spanish Jew, Maimonides, in the twelfth.
Pascal also cites a passage from a French manual in which loans at usury
are approved provided they are made in the form of a partnership agree-
ment. This was the Jewish “iron flock,” forbidden by the Talmud but con-
doned by the medieval rabbis.
5. Baba Mezi’a, 64a–64b.
6. Ibid., 70b–72b.
7. J. Schacht, An Introduction to Islamic Law (Oxford, 1949), p. 149, and
bibliography, pp. 274–75. Jewish business practice in talmudic times is dis-
cussed by J. Neusner, A History of the Jews in Babylonia (Leyden, 1969), Vol.
4, pp. 220–28.
8. S. D. Goitein, A Mediterranean Society (Berkeley, Calif., 1967), Vol. 1.
9. S. W. Baron, A Social and Religious History of the Jews (New York,
1952–65), Vol. 4, pp. 212–13.
10. Werner Sombart, Die Juden und das Wirtschaftsleben (Leipzig, 1911),
p. 73.
11. The Code of Maimonides (Yale, 1941–51), Book 13, The Book of Civil
Laws, tr. I. J. Rabinowitz (1949), treatise 3, ch. 4, laws 2 and 3.
12. Code, Bk. 13, tr. 3, ch. 5, laws 2 and 3.
13. Ibid., law 16.
14. Ibid., law 15.
In Concealment of Usury 53
15. Ibid., law 8.
16. Ibid., law 15. In his description of the double contract or mohatra,
Maimonides follows the Talmud:
There are things that are permissible in themselves, yet one is forbidden
to do them because they constitute a device for the evasion of the
Law of Usury. How is this to be understood? If one said to another,
“Lend me a mina,” and the other said, “A mina I have not, but wheat
at a mina I have,” and he gave him wheat at a mina and thereafter
purchased it back from him for 90 zuz it is permissible. But the Sages
have forbidden this, because it is a device for the evasion of the Law of
Usury, the lender giving only 90 zuz and receiving a mina. If the lender,
transgressing the prohibition, does some such thing, this is not even
quasi-usury, and he may recover the full 100 zuz at law.
17. Baron, op. cit., Vol. 4, p. 203.
18. A. Neuman, The Jews in Spain (Philadelphia, 1942), Vol. 1, p. 211.
19. Baron, op. cit., Vol. 4, p. 200.
20. Loc. cit.
21. Ibid., p. 201.
22. Code, Bk. 13, tr. 3, ch. 6, law 8.
23. Goitein, op. cit., Vol. 1, pp. 229–37.
24. Neuman, op. cit., Vol. 1, pp. 223–24.
25. The Koran, translated by J. M. Rodwell, in Everyman’s Library, No. 380
(London, 1909), Sura 3 (The Family of Imran), v. 125.
26. Ibid., Sura 74 (The Enwrapped), v. 6.
27. Ibid., Sura 2 (The Cow), vv. 276–77.
28. The Encyclopaedia of Islam (Leyden, 1936), article “Ribā” by J. Schacht.
29. The Hedaya of Ali ibn Bakr, translated by C. Hamilton (London,
1791), Vol. 2, pp. 551–66.
30. E. Sachau, Muhammedanisches Recht (Stuttgart, 1897), p. 281.
31. Schacht, Introduction to Islamic Law, pp. 79, 153.
32. Ibid., pp. 79–83.
33. A list is given in E. Lévi-Provençal, Histoire de L’Espagne musulmane
(Paris, 1953), Vol. 3, pp. 470–76.
34. Traité de Droit Musulman, La Tohfat d’Ibn Acem, translated by
O. Houdas and F. Martel (Algiers, 1882). There is another translation,
Al-Acimiya ou Thu’fat, by I. Bercher (Institut d’Études Orientales, Univer-
sity of Algiers, 1958), which I have not been able to consult.
54 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
35. Ibn Asim, op. cit., v. 1305.
36. Ibid., vv. 716–17.
37. Ibid., p. 155, note.
38. St. Clement, Stromata, 11, 18, in J. P. Migne, Patrologiae cursus comple-
tus series graeca (Paris, 1857–66), Vol. 8, p. 1024. Spanish translation in R.
Sierra Bravo, Doctrina social y económica de los Padres de la Iglesia (Madrid,
1967), para. 66.
39. St. Jerome, Com. in Ezek., Lib. VI, cap. XVIII, 5 and 6, in Migne, op.
cit., series latina (Paris, 1844–55). Vol. 25, pp. 174–76. Spanish translation in
Sierra Bravo, op. cit., paras. 1513, 1514.
40. St. Basil, Homil. 11 in Psalm XIV, in Migne, op. cit., s.g., Vol. 29, pp. 265,
280. Spanish translation in Sierra Bravo, op. cit., paras. 151–58.
41. St. Gregory Contra Usura, 11, in Migne, op. cit., s.g., Vol. 46, pp. 433,
436. Spanish translation in Sierra Bravo, op. cit., paras. 507–10.
42. St. Leo, Sermon XVIII, cap. 111, in Migne, op. cit., s.l., Vol. 54, p. 181.
Spanish translation in Sierra Bravo, op. cit., para. 1835.
43. St. John Chrysostom, In Mattaeum, V 5 and Hom. LVI, 5 and 6.
Spanish translation in Sierra Bravo, op. cit., paras. 765, 766, 812–15.
44. St. Ambrose, Lib. de Tobias, 7–11, in Migne, op. cit., s.l., Vol. 14, pp. 798
et seq. Spanish translation in Sierra Bravo, op. cit., paras. 1403–6.
45. St. Augustine, Psalm 36, Sermon 3, 6, in Migne, op. cit., s.l., Vol. 36,
p. 386. Spanish translation in Sierra Bravo, op. cit., para. 1605. Sermon 239,
5, in Migne, op. cit., s.l., Vol. 38, p. 1128. Spanish translation in Sierra Bravo,
op. cit., para. 1708.
46. Leges Constantini, Theodosii, Leonis, in E. Sachau, Syrische Rechts-
bücher (Berlin, 1914), Vol. 1, p. 129.
47. The Corpus Juris of Jesubocht, Archbishop of Persia, in Sachau, op. cit.,
Vol. 3, pp. 167–69.
48. Codex, 4:32:3; Institutions, 3:14:2; Digest, 12:1:2:1; 13:6, f.3, n.6 and
f.4; 44:7:1:4; 50:16:121; See J. T. Noonan, The Scholastic Analysis of Usury
(Cambridge, Mass., 1957), pp. 39–41.
49. The development of the Church’s doctrine of usury may conveniently
be followed in any edition of the Corpus Juris Canonici issued before 1918.
50. Decretum, P. 1, dist. 46, caps. 9 and 10; P. 1, dist. 47, caps. 1–5.
51. Ibid., P. 2, cap. 14, Q. 4, cap. 8.
52. Ibid., P. 1, dist. 88, cap. 11. The idea that money is not “meant” to
be anything but a medium of exchange, and that it is therefore sterile by
In Concealment of Usury 55
nature, is generally held to be Aristotelian. However, we find it cropping up
from time to time in the early Middle Ages, well before Aristotle’s Politics
and Nicomachean Ethics, the principal works in which his monetary theory
is developed, reached the West. An important source of these early ech-
oes of Greek theory was the Roman jurist Julius Paulus, in a pronounce-
ment that was widely quoted in later economic literature. Discussing price,
Paulus briefly summarizes the account given by Plato and Aristotle of the
inconvenience of barter and the invention of money to serve as a means of
exchange, adding that the stamped material of which money is made derives
its utility not so much from its substance as from its tale.
In our next chapter we shall see how these celebrated doctrines, with which
our elementary textbooks of economics are still accustomed to open, reached
the Christian West in more elaborate form in the twelfth century. Meanwhile,
we note that they were preserved, through this text of Paulus’s, in the Lex
Romanum Visigothorum (promulgated in 506) and in the Digest of Justinian.
53. Decretals, Lib. 5, tit. 19, caps. 1 and 8.
54. Ibid., cap. 3.
55. Ibid., caps. 5 and 9.
56. Ibid., cap. 6.
57. Luke VI:35.
58. Decretals, Lib. 5, tit. 19, cap. 10.
59. Ibid., cap. 12.
60. Ibid., cap. 13.
61. Ibid., cap. 15.
62. Ibid., cap. 18.
63. Decretals, Lib. 3, tit. 17, cap. 5 and Lib. 3, tit. 21, cap. 4.
64. Decretals, Lib. 5, tit. 19, cap. 19.
65. Liber Sextus Decretalium, Lib. 5, tit, 5, cap. 1.
66. Clementinarum, Lib. 5, tit. 5, cap. 15.
67. “Modus iuste negotiandi in gratiam mercatorum,” published in Ana-
lecta Sacri Ordinis Praedicatorum, (1899) Vol. III.
68. “Raimundi de Penna-forti Summa Pastoralis,” in Ravaisson, Cata-
logue Géneral des MSS des Bibliothèques publiques des Départements, 1849,
Vol. I, pp. 621–23. Partly translated into English by R. H. Tawney, Religion
and the Rise of Capitalism (London, 1925), ch. 1, note 69.
69. An early (if judged by Christian standards, “late” if by Jewish) exam-
ple of the false sale or mohatra contract is included in R. S. Lopez and I. W.
56 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
Raymond, Medieval Trade in the Mediterranean World (New York and
London, 1955), Document No. 143. A citizen of Nîmes claims annulment
of a contract drawn up in 1287, by which two Florentine merchants made
him a loan of £200 Tournois, payable in Lucca. The loan was disguised as a
sale of silver plate and gold cloth. The routine was the following: the goods
were formally shown to the borrower, so that he could not later use the legal
exception that they had not been delivered. The borrower agreed to buy
them for £280 Tournois payable within four months. He did not, however,
take possession of them, and in consideration of this the money-lenders
caused the sum of £200 to be paid to him immediately.
70. Summa ad manuscriptorum fidem recognita (Verona, 1744). In ear-
lier editions this work bears the title of Summa de poenitentia or Summa
casuum conscientiae.
71. Ibid., 2:7:2; 2:7:5.
72. Ibid., 2:7:5.
73. Loc. cit.
74. Fuero Juzgo, in Los códigos españoles (Madrid, 1847), Vol. 1, Lib. 5,
tit. 4, law 5.
75. Ibid., tit. 5, laws 8 and 9.
76. Fuero viejo de Castilla, in Los códigos españoles, Vol. 1, Lib. 3, tit. 5
and 7.
77. Fuero real de España, in Los códigos españoles, Vol. 1, Lib. 3, tit. 16,
law 1; tit. 18 and 19; Lib. 4, tit. 2, law 6.
78. Las siete Partidas del rey D. Alfonso el sabio, in Los códigos españoles,
Vols. 2, 3, and 4, partida 1, tit. 6, law 45.
79. Ibid., partida 5, tit. 13, law 2.
80. Ibid., tit. 11, law 40.
81. Ordenamiento de Alcalá, in Los códigos españoles, Vol. 1, tit. 23, law 1.
82. Ibid., tit. 32, law 51.
83. Ordenanzas reales de Castilla, in Los códigos españoles, Vol. 1, tit. 9,
laws 17 and 23.
84. An account of Jewish usury in Castile and Aragon is given by Clau-
dio Sanchez-Albornoz, España, un enigma histórico (Buenos Aires, 1956),
Vol. 2, pp. 190–206.
85. J. Vicens Vives, Manual de historia económica de España, 4th ed.
(Barcelona, 1965), p. 225. English translation: Economic History of Spain
(Princeton, N.J., 1969).
In Concealment of Usury 57
86. Manuel Colmeiro, Historia de la economía política en España
(Madrid, 1863), 2nd ed. (Madrid, 1965), 2 vols., ch. 43, p. 471.
87. Novísima recopilación, Bk. 12, tit. 22, law 4.
88. R. W. Emery, The Jews of Perpignan in the Thirteenth Century (New
York, 1959), pp. 26–108.
89. A. Castro, España en su historia (Buenos Aires, 1948), pp. 516–17.
90. J. T. Noonan, The Scholastic Analysis of Usury (Cambridge, Mass.,
1957), p. 155.
91. Ibid., p. 160, note 29.
92. Ibid., pp. 160–61.
93. J. A. Schumpeter, History of Economic Analysis (New York, 1954), p. 165.
94. Tomàs de Mercado, Tratos y contratos de mercaderes (Salamanca,
1569), fol. 1. A revised and extended edition of the book appeared at
Seville in 1571, under the title of Suma de tratos y contratos. Modern edition
(Madrid, 1975), with an introduction by R. Sierra Bravo.
95. Ibid., fol. 4.
96. Ibid., fol. 75.
97. Ibid., fol. 96.
98. W. Endemann’s fundamental study, Studien in der romanisch-
kanonistischen Wirtschaftslehre (Berlin, 1874–88), 2 vols., is valuable from the
doctrinal point of view. The mechanism of the “exchanges” is explained in
R. de Roover, Gresham on Foreign Exchange (Cambridge, Mass., 1949);
L’Évolution de la lettre de change, XIVe–XVIIIe siècles (Paris, 1953); “Le
marché monétaire au Moyen Age et au début des temps modernes,” Revue
historique, No. 495, July–September 1970. Also useful are G. Mandich, Le
Pacte de Ricorsa et le marché italien des changes au XVIIe siecle (Paris, 1953),
and Lopez and Raymond, op. cit., pp. 162–66. On the Spanish exchanges,
the best studies are A. E. Sayous, “Observations d’écrivains du XVIe siècle
sur les changes,” Revue économique internationale, Vol. 4, November 1928,
pp. 289–320, and, especially to be recommended, H. Lepeyre, Une famille
de Marchlands, les Ruiz (Paris, 1955), pp. 243–335.
99. Endemann, op. cit., Vol. 1, p. 82.
100. De Roover, L’Evolution de la lettre de change, pp. 27–29.
101. Dictionnaire de Droit Canonique (Paris, 1950), article “Interêt et usure.”
102. A model contract under the heading of “Exchange with Pledges”
is included by Fernando Diaz de Valdepeñas, public scrivenor of Granada,
in his Summa de notas copiosas, published in 1543, a collection of specimen
58 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
contracts censored and approved by the Mercedarian friar, Juan de Medina,
himself a leading authority on commercial morality. The terms of the con-
tract may be summarized as follows:
I, the taker [or borrower] agree to repay in another place whatever sum
I take [or borrow] by drawing a bill of exchange on my agent in that
place. If, upon its maturity, the bill is not duly met, then you, the giver
[or lender] are empowered to take in exchange the said sum wherever
and from whomsoever you chose, at whatever rate of interesse you may
arrange, and rechange it upon me and my goods, and I bind myself to
repay the said principal debt, together with such changes and rechanges
and interesse and postal charges and other expenses as you may incur,
your declaration on oath being sufficient to justify seizure of my person
and goods.
It is clear that a contract drawn up in this form provided an excellent cloak
for dry exchange, since only the parties concerned could know whether it
was genuine or not.
103. Bartolomé Lucala, Baculus Clericalis (Saragossa, 1552), fol. 14.
104. Luis Saravia de la Calle Veroñense, Instrucción de mercaderes muy
provechosa (Medina del Campo, 1544), fols. 103–6. The whole of ch. 11 is
devoted to “Exchange-brokers and mohatras.”
105. The word trapaza, a banker’s “wangle,” is derived from the Greek
word for the table on which the money changer placed his piles of coins.
Mohatra, from the Arabic mukhatara, “wager” or “speculation,” was used
in Spain in the sixteenth century to designate the double contract of sale, as
well as in the wider sense of “fraud” in general. What of barata, another word
used in Spain to denote the double contract? It seems strange that there
should have been two terms in common use for this contract. The adjective
barato, the Spanish word for “cheap,” is of uncertain origin. The etymology
of the word is discussed by J. Coromina, Diccionario crítico etimológico de la
lengua castellana (Madrid, 1954). The nouns barato and barata were used in
the twelfth and thirteenth centuries in the sense of “fraud, confusion, mix-
up,” and the verb baratar meant, among other things, “to reduce the price
of a good in order to settle a debt.” In Catalonia, at about the same time, a
baratador was a person who engaged in shady business. Hostiensis (d. 1271)
in his Summa (V. de usuris, N. 8) allows a resale agreement but believes
that many such contracts are tainted. Usurers, he says, “make baratos, and
In Concealment of Usury 59
they are truly baratae, since they lead straight to barathrum.” Barathrum
is the Latin word for “pit” or “hell.” This little piece of wordplay met with
immense success since it continued to be repeated by writer after writer for
the next four centuries. The municipal loans raised by the city of Seville
at the end of the fourteenth century were known as baratas. R. Carande,
Sevilla, fortaleza y mercado (Seville, 1972), pp. 182–89, discusses the Sevil-
lian baratas.
106. The Adelantamientos were former frontier districts governed by
a member of a judicial or military Order, and retaining certain of their
ancient judicial privileges.
107. Novísima recopilación, Bk. 12, tit. 22, law 5.
108. The “usance,” or period in which a bill of exchange fell due, varied
according to commercial custom and was closely linked to the calendar of
the fairs.
109. Mercado, op. cit., p. 154 verso.
110. Ibid., p. 69 verso.
111. The prominent part played by the corredor in the commercial life
of Spain, and the reasons for it, are discussed by J. A. Pitt-Rivers in his
sociological study of an Andalusian township, People of the Sierra (London,
1954).
112. Mercado, op. cit., p. 154 verso.
113. Ibid., p. 154.
114. E. Bussi, “Contractus Mohatrae,” in Rivista di storia del diritto
italiano, Vol. 5 (1932), p. 498.
115. See note 4.
116. Feliciano de Solis, whose treatise De Censibus, published at Alcalà
in 1594, was reprinted at Frankfurt in 1605, cites Domingo de Soto, Diego
de Covarrubias, Miguel de Palacio, and Francisco García, as among the
authors who dealt with the subject.
117. Mercado, op. cit., pp. 127–29 verso.
118. Martín González de Cellorigo, Memorial de la política necesaria y
útil restauración de la República de España (Valladolid, 1600), p. 4.
2 Greek Economics in Spain
In the first chapter I chose the subject of usury as an example
of economic thought governed by religious principles. The view that
all the activities of life, even the trivial haggling of the marketplace,
are subject to the commands of God, forever valid and immutable,
was that taken by the three religions of medieval Spain. It may be
contrasted with the attitude of the Greeks, whose economic teaching
rested chiefly on ethical principles, and who appealed to reason, and
not to any form of revealed truth.
This second type of doctrine gained a footing in Spain at a period
when the first was still in its heyday. The transmission of Greek eco-
nomics to the West was the joint work of Christians, Moslems, and
Jews, who collaborated in harmony. It is paradoxical that this lofty
task should have been performed by men who in their private affairs
may well have been busy evading the usury laws by some such sordid
device as those I have described. But human life is made up of light
and shade. Up to now I may seem to have taken rather a cynical view
of the intellectual activities of our medieval Spaniards. It is more
than time that we watched them follow a more elevated purpose.
av e r roes
As well as being woven into the original work of Islamic
writers, the doctrines of Plato and Aristotle reached Spain in the
form of Arabic paraphrases and commentaries. No direct transla-
tions from Greek into Arabic were made in Spain itself. The author
of a great series of commentaries on many of the scientific writings
of Aristotle was a younger contemporary of al-Turtushi’s, also of
Saragossa, known to the Christian West as Avempace (c. 1085–1138).
Avempace did not leave any work on the social sciences, an omission
that was repaired by his disciple and admirer, Averroes.
Greek Economics in Spain 69
Muhammad ibn Ahmad, called Ibn Rushd in Islam and Averroes
in the Christian West, was born in 1126 and came of a distinguished
Cordovan family. His grandfather was kadi or chief judge of that
city and famous for his wise decisions. They were gathered into a
vast compilation so highly esteemed among the Arabs that Averroes,
whose renown in the Christian West came to rival that of Aristotle
himself, is for his co-religionists merely “the Grandson.” Averroes’s
father also held the same important post of kadi in Cordova.
As a boy Averroes studied medicine, law, and philosophy with the
best teachers and enjoyed the society of the most distinguished men
of his time. In 1153 we find him at Marrakesh, where he was presented
to the emir Abu Ya’qub Yusuf, a learned prince who loved to dis-
course on the Greek philosophers, using his great powers of memory
to expound the arguments of the Moslem theologians against them.
It was probably this emir who suggested to Averroes that he should
continue Avempace’s work of commentating Aristotle.
In 1169 Averroes was appointed kadi of Seville, returning in 1171
to Cordova where he probably composed his commentaries on Aris-
totle during the years that followed. In 1182 Yusuf recalled him to
Morocco as his chief physician and later made him kadi of Cordova
as his father and grandfather had been.
Under Yusuf ’s successor, Ya’qub al-Mansur, Averroes at first
enjoyed great favor but later fell into disgrace. It is said that in one
of his writings he left out the diacritic signs that in Arabic distin-
guish the flattering phrase “King of the two continents” from the
contemptuous “King of the Berbers.” And, apart from this unlucky
slip, Averroes had come under the suspicion of religious unortho-
doxy. Greek philosophy, with its obvious rationalism, was the
object of attack, and the emir, bowing to the storm, condemned its
study and ordered that all books on the subject should be destroyed
except for those on medicine, arithmetic, and elementary astron-
omy. Together with other scholars who had become associated
with Greek philosophy, Averroes was banished to Lucena. But his
life had a happy ending. Four years later, when the current wave
of opposition to Greek philosophy had spent its force, the caliph
recalled him and restored him to favor. Averroes died at Marrakesh
in 1198.13
70 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
Averroes’s Commentary on Plato’s “Republic”
The corpus of Averroes’s work is enormous and its bibliography
beset with pitfalls. It includes treatises on philosophy, theology, juris-
prudence, medicine, astronomy, grammar, and other subjects. Among
the more readily accessible writings on politics and economics, the
commentaries on Plato’s Republic and Aristotle’s Nicomachean Eth-
ics must take first place. Both were probably composed at Cordova
in the year 1177. Averroes tells us that, Aristotle’s Politics not having
come into his hands, he regarded the Nicomachean Ethics and the
Republic as two complementary works on the same science of poli-
tics, the former providing the theory of the subject and the latter the
practical instruction.
In his commentary on the Republic, Averroes is careful to define
the scope of social science. It differs essentially, he says, from the spec-
ulative sciences in dealing entirely with matters dependent on free will
and choice. Whereas the aim of the speculative sciences is theoretical
knowledge alone (the practical application of such knowledge being
accidental), the aim of political and economic science is action alone.
Averroes’s views on the democratic State are of some interest. He
takes a rather more positive view of democracy than Plato, and even
thinks on philosophical grounds, that out of it an ideal State might
be born. But he also points out the dangers inherent in democracy. In
such a State, he says, every kind of man is to be found. The rule of law
will probably be maintained, though in a haphazard fashion, and this
rule will be equal, favoring no one. But the excessive quest for free-
dom in a democratic State, which leads to a man ruling himself and his
affairs just as he wishes, and having no civic duties to perform, will turn
many of the people into drones. However, since in a democracy a man
will be free to work as well as to be idle, there will arise a class whose
members seek wealth alone. These people will serve to make honey
for the drones. And there will be a third class, of men who go about
their business but are not property-owners. The first and third classes
will plunder the money-making class and hate them. After that, one
of two things will happen. Either the only active class in the State will
disappear, or its members gain power and the State become a tyranny.
Averroes accepts Plato’s plea that women should share the same
work and civic duties as men, and enjoy the same rights. Moreover,
Greek Economics in Spain 71
he applies this doctrine of Plato’s to the position of women in his
own time and civilization, thus venturing to run counter to Islamic
teaching and practice.
Commenting on Plato’s cursory observation that the embryo
State will require a currency “to serve as a token for purposes of
exchange,” Averroes makes use of Aristotle’s more carefully devel-
oped ideas, introducing the latter’s definition of nomisma and his
concept of money as a common measure “between separate things,
so that equality prevails in business between things where it is diffi-
cult to measure equality in [real] existence.” Averroes also mentions
that money is needed “because of the difficulty of transacting busi-
ness [in a barter economy],” thus defining the first and most obvious
function of money, which is to serve as a medium of exchange.14
t h e t r a nsm ission to t h e
ch r ist i a n w est
Averroes wrote in Arabic and commentated an Arabic text.
Manuscripts of his writings in Arabic are rare, Hebrew translations
plentiful, and Latin versions to be found in all important libraries.
72 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
The Latin Translations of Averroes
At about the beginning of the twelfth century the Christian West
began to awaken to the superiority of Islamic culture—or, perhaps
we may better say, of Islamic technology, since the desire of western
Christians was not so much to enrich their intellectual heritage as to
improve their performance in such practical activities as medicine,
mathematics, arithmetic, astronomy, astrology, botany, torture, and
magic, in all of which the Arabs were known to be exceptionally pro-
ficient. It was also realized that the key to this knowledge lay in the
mastery of Arabic. But a reading acquaintance with Arabic is not to
be acquired in a day, and a single glance at an Arabic manuscript must
have discouraged all but the most ardent seekers after fame. Clearly,
the best way to get over this difficulty would be to travel to the nearest
place where Arabic manuscripts were plentiful, and where assistants
knowing Arabic and another language understood by the foreign
scholar could be found to help in the work of translation.
Two places in Europe fulfilled these requirements. One was Sicily,
under Arab rule from 902 to 1091, where there remained a consider-
able Moslem population protected by the Norman conquerors, who
had themselves become Islamized to an extent that shocked the rest
of Christendom. The other was Spain, which offered a wider scope
than Sicily and was more congenial to the orthodox mind. At first
the work of selecting and translating suitable Arabic texts was carried
on at different cities in the Peninsula, but it soon came to be cen-
tered on Toledo, which had been regained by the Christians in 1085.
Here the would-be investigator found a powerful and enthusiastic
patron in Raymond, Archbishop of Toledo and Chancellor of Cas-
tile (d. 1150), and a still greater one in the scholar-king, Alphonso X
of Castile, called “the Learned” (1221–84), who gathered Christian,
Moslem, and Jewish scholars round him and himself took an active
part in their labors.
The method commonly used in Toledo and other Spanish centers
was for one person to put the text from Arabic into Spanish and for
his collaborator to turn it from Spanish into Latin, the latter being
the more important partner and putting his name to the completed
work. We know the names of several of these pairs of translators.
They include the converted Jew, John of Seville, and the Segovian,
Greek Economics in Spain 73
Dominic Gundisalvo; the Jew, Andrew, who translated from Arabic
into Spanish for Michael Scot and Hermann the German; Gerard
of Cremona and the mozarab, Galippus; and Hermann of Carinthia
with his English friend, Robert of Chester, both of whom, after “long
vigils,” learned enough Arabic to be able to turn their joint transla-
tions directly from Arabic into Latin.
From Spain, then, in the course of the twelfth and thirteenth
centuries, an enterprising body of translators sent out to the rest of
Europe the Latin versions of Aristotle, Ptolemy, Euclid, Galen, and
Hippocrates, and their Moslem expositors, abridgers, and commen-
tators, thus laying down for several centuries to come the basis of
study and teaching in the universities of western Christendom.16
A considerable part of Aristotle’s writings had been translated
into Latin by the end of the twelfth century. The work of Averroes
began to penetrate the Christian West about thirty years after his
death in 1198. Latin versions of his commentaries on Aristotle’s De
Caelo et Mundo and De Anima were made by Michael Scot, either
when he was at Toledo in 1217, or, more probably, between 1228
and 1235, while he was at the court of Frederick II, King of Sicily.
Unfortunately for the good name of Averroes, Michael Scot was an
accomplished astrologer. His sinister reputation for being on famil-
iar terms with the Devil helped to surround the person and writings
of Averroes with an aura of sorcery and heresy that was to be long
in fading.
A very different figure from the sophisticated Scot was one of his
fellow-scholars at Frederick’s court. Perhaps encouraged by Michael
Scot’s success, Hermann the German made up his mind to follow
his example and seek new material in Toledo. But he came rather
late on the scene. By the time he reached Spain the more important
scientific works of Aristotle had already been turned into Latin,
together with many of Averroes’s commentaries on them. Hermann
decided to begin his work by translating Averroes’s commentary on
the Nicomachean Ethics. As we have seen, the commentary includes
what is practically a paraphrase of the fifth book of the Ethics, the
only part of the treatise that is concerned with economics. Hermann
tells us that he finished his translation on the third Thursday of June
1240, in the chapel of the Holy Trinity at Toledo. He also says that
74 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
he had translated an Arabic version of the Nicomachean Ethics itself,
but that his labors had been rendered vain by Robert Grosse-Tête,
who at Oxford, in 1243, had translated that treatise directly from the
Greek. Hermann is almost certainly referring to a shortened version
of the Nicomachean Ethics, called the Alexandrine Compendium,
which had circulated among the Arabs during the Middle Ages and
which he is known to have translated in 1243–44. This abridgment
also covers the fifth book in which alone we are interested.
Hermann stayed on in Toledo for many years, eventually becom-
ing Bishop of Astorga. In 1250 he translated Averroes’s commentary
on Aristotle’s Rhetoric, and, in 1256, his paraphrase of the Poetics.
We have noted one or two passages in the Rhetoric that concern our
study. In course of time quite a large number of translations were
circulating under Hermann’s name, but, with admirable candor, he
admits that he had played only a small part in their production. For
once the humble Jew, Andrew, is saluted from afar, even though he is
not specifically named as co-translator.
Hermann’s translation of Averroes’s commentary on the Nicoma-
chean Ethics enjoyed great success and was never superseded. It has
been used in all the editions of Aristotle that are accompanied by
Averroes’s commentaries, and has remained, almost into modern
times, one of the main sources of Aristotelian economics.17
not es
1. In his Economic Analysis Before Adam Smith (London, 1975),
pp. 21–69, Barry Gordon gives a general account of the economic teaching
of Plato and Aristotle, and summarizes recent research on the subject.
2. Republic, 367e–372a.
3. Ibid., 431–34.
4. J. A. Schumpeter, History of Economic Analysis (New York, 1954),
pp. 60–65.
5. This at least seems to be the interpretation put upon Aristotle by
St. Thomas Aquinas, who, in his commentaries on Peter Lombard’s Sen-
tences (quoted by R. de Roover, “Joseph A. Schumpeter and scholastic eco-
nomics,” Kyklos, Fasc. 2, 1957), says that money is a “measure of the utility
of other things.”
6. The continuing influence of Aristotle’s ideas on value has been well
traced by E. Kauder, “Genesis of the marginal utility theory from Aristotle
to the end of the 18th century,” Economic Journal, Vol. 63, September 1953,
pp. 638–50, and in his A History of Marginal Utility Theory (Princeton, N.J.,
1965). B. Gordon, “Aristotle and the development of value theory,” Quar-
terly Journal of Economics, Vol. 78, February 1964, pp. 115–28, shows that
there is a traditional labor or cost-of-production theory of value as well as a
subjective or “utility” theory which stem from Aristotle and link him with
St. Thomas Aquinas, Davanzati, Bernoulli, and Galiani.
78 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
7. Topics, 117b, 28–30. Rhetoric, 1364a, 24–30.
8. Interesting discussions of the role of the Arabs as the cultural heirs to
Greece are included in the following works: G. Barton, Introduction to the
History of Science (Washington and Baltimore, 1929–48), 5 vols., Vol. 1, p. 18;
C. H. Haskins, Studies in the History of Medieval Science (Cambridge, Mass.,
1924), Vol. 24 of Harvard Historical Studies; A. Mieli, La Science Arabe et
son rôle dans l’évolution scientifique mondiale (Leyden, 1938); R. R. Walzer,
The Arabic Transmission of Greek Thought to Medieval Europe, reprinted
from the Bulletin of the John Rylands Library (Manchester, 1945); De Lacy
Evans O’Leary, How Greek Science Passed to the Arabs (London, 1951); G. E.
von Grunebaum, Medieval Islam (Chicago, 1953); M. A. Faris, The Arab
Heritage (Princeton, N.J., 1946); Sobhi Mahmassani, Les Idées Économiques
d’Ibn Khaldoun, Essai historique, analytique et critique (Leyden, 1932), ch. 3
(on Moslem thought before Ibn Khaldun); E. I. J. Rosenthal, “Some aspects
of Islamic political thought,” Islamic Culture, Vol. 22, No. 1, January 1948
(Hyderabad); F. Rosenthal, A History of Muslim Historiography (Leyden,
1952), especially pp. 102–4.
9. Al-Farabi, Fusul al-Madani. Aphorisms of the Statesman, ed. D. M.
Dunlop (Cambridge, 1961), in University of Cambridge Oriental Publica-
tions, p. 37:
Just as the body is composed of different parts of a determinate number,
some more, some less excellent, adjacent to each other and graded, each
doing a certain work, and there is combined from all their actions mutual
help towards the perfection of the aim in the man’s body, so the city and
the household are each composed of different parts of a determinate
number, some less, some more excellent, adjacent to each other and
graded in different grades, each doing a certain work independently, and
there is combined from their actions mutual help towards the perfection
of the aim in the city or household, except that the household is part of
the city and the households are in the city, so the aims are different.
Al-Farabi adds that just as a doctor treats any sick member only in such a
way as will benefit the whole body, so must the ruler of the city treat each
part of the city (whether small, like a man, or big, like a household) only in
a way that will benefit the whole.
10. The mirror book is Ghazali’s Book of Counsel for Kings, translated by
F. R. C. Bagley (Oxford, 1964), in University of Durham Publications. The
Greek Economics in Spain 79
encyclopedia is The Book of Knowledge; the main ideas developed in this
work are resumed by Mahmassani, op. cit., pp. 64–67, and by W. Heffening
in his article “Tidjara” in the Encyclopedia of Islam (Leyden, 1936).
11. Abul-Fadl Al-Dimashqi, The Book of Knowledge of the Beauties of Com-
merce and of Cognizance of Good and Bad Merchandise and Falsifications,
partially translated into German by H. Ritter, “Ein arabisches Handbuch
der Handelswissenschaft,” in Der Islam, Vol. 7 (1917). English translation of
two short passages in Robert S. Lopez and Irving W. Raymond, Medieval
Trade in the Mediterranean World (New York and London, 1955; repr. 1961),
pp. 24–27 and 412. The Platonic and Aristotelian economic theory that
reappears in Abul-Fadl’s work is resumed by Mahmassani, op. cit., pp. 72–90.
12. Abu-Bakr Muhammad al-Tirtushi (Abu-Bequer de Tortosa), Lám-
para de los principes, translated into Spanish and edited by M. Alarcón
(Madrid, 1930), 2 vols. See especially Vol. 2, passim.
13. Books and articles on Averroes are legion. Averroès et l’Averoïsme
(Paris, 1852), the study with which the youthful Renan first made his name,
is still indispensable. Certain aspects of the work are criticized by M. Asín,
“El Averoismo teológico de Sto. Tomás de Aquino,” in Homenaje a D. Fran-
cisco Codera en su jubilación del profesorado, Estudios de erudición oriental,
ed. E. Saavedra (Saragossa, 1904). Carra de Vaux, in Les Penseurs de l’Islam
(Paris, 1923), Vol. 4, pp. 65–93, discusses the importance of Averroes for
the history of Arab scholasticism, as does E. I. J. Rosenthal in his contribu-
tion to the social sciences in “The place of politics in the philosophy of Ibn
Rushd,” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of
London, Vol. XV, pt. 2, June 1953.
14. E. I. J. Rosenthal, Averroes’ Commentary on Plato’s Republic, ed. with
an introduction, English translation, and notes (Cambridge, 1965).
15. There is no modern edition of Averroes’s commentary on the Nico-
machean Ethics. I can, however, recommend the edition published in Venice,
1489, in 2 vols. The Latin version of Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics made by
Leonardo Bruni of Arezzo, “Aretinus” (1369–44), is placed in the middle of
the page, with Hermann’s translation of Averroes’s commentary surround-
ing it, the type being exceptionally clear and the title pages charmingly
(though distractingly) adorned with wild flowers.
The only discussion of this commentary that I know of is by C. Miller,
Studien zur Geschichte der Geldlehre, Münchener Volkwirtschaftliche Stu-
dien, Stück 146 (Stuttgart, 1925), pp. 68–73.
80 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
16. C. Sanchez-Albornoz, La España musulmana según los autores isla-
mitas y cristianas medievales (Buenos Aires, 1946), includes a description of
Toledo as a center of translation.
17. C. Marchesi, L’Etica Nicomachea nella tradizione latina medievale
(Messina, 1904). Sybil D. Wingate, The Medieval Latin Versions of the Aris-
totelian Scientific Corpus (London, 1951).
11r
The Age of Mercantilism
3
The School of Salamanca
In this chapter and the next we shall follow some part of
the development of economic thought in Spain from the end of the
Middle Ages to the beginnings of laissez-faire; that is to say, from
the end of the fifteenth century to the middle of the eighteenth.
For most historians this period constitutes the “age of mercantil-
ism.” And certainly, in Spain as elsewhere, mercantilist doctrine
was preached by many writers. But for the historian of economic
thought it does not, perhaps, represent the most interesting work
of the period. The high level of Spanish sixteenth-century econom-
ics noted by Schumpeter was largely the achievement of the late
scholastics—the School of Salamanca, as they have sometimes been
called. These writers were, in the main, theologians and jurists in
whose thought the social and economic order played an important
though secondary part.1
Among the topics of an economic character discussed by the
Spanish Doctors we may include the nature of private property; taxa-
tion; poor relief or “welfare”; commerce; the “just price” and usury;
and money, banking, and foreign exchange. I shall mention some of
this late scholastic work in my last chapter, together with the contri-
butions of the “political economists,” as I shall call the writers who
made the interests of the Spanish economy their first concern. Here
I shall consider such part of our Doctors’ teaching as would seem
to approach most closely to economic “analysis,” as distinct from
description or the formulation of policy.
Notable features of “Salamancan” doctrine were the adoption of a
subjective or utility theory of value, inherited, it is true, from medi-
eval times, but applied in a living and clear-sighted manner to con-
temporary events; the realization of the relation between the quantity
of money in circulation and the price level; and the development of
83
84 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
certain other ideas on money and banking, including a theory of for-
eign exchange based on the quantity theory.
The “Politics”
Aristotle begins by distinguishing real wealth from money. The
art of administering real property, he says, is alone called economy.
Money is a mere tool that serves for acquiring the things that are
necessary to domestic and civil economy and the business of money-
making is to economy proper as the shuttle to the art of weaving.2
Next follows the oft-quoted passage about the uses of every pos-
session being two: its ordinary or natural use, and its use as an object
of barter. A shoe, for instance, may be worn, or it may be exchanged
for something else. Through barter the use of money was introduced,
mainly in order to facilitate trade over great distances. Men looked
for some medium of exchange which would be valuable in itself, and
at the same time easy to transport, such as iron, silver, or some similar
material. At first this was measured by weight or size, but later the
value was stamped on the coin to save the trouble of weighing.
Once money had been established as the necessary means of
exchange, men took to seeking more of it by trading where and in
whatever way they could make most profit. Wealth is often supposed
The School of Salamanca 85
to consist of a large quantity of money. But in fact money has only
a conventional value which is fixed by general consent, and if the
people who use it alter their opinion it will be worth nothing. There-
fore, a prudent man will take care also to acquire some other form of
property.
Moneymaking, according to Aristotle, differs from true economy
by knowing no bounds. It seeks an unlimited amount of money for its
own sake, whereas true economy requires money in order to buy the
things that are necessary for life. Money is to be used, not hoarded.
It may commendably be used in the service of the household, but not
in retail trade, which has not its origin in nature but in men’s desire
to gain from one another. Of all forms of moneymaking, usury is the
most unnatural and detestable because it uses money as a means of
making more money, instead of as a medium for the exchange of real
goods.3
Other concepts that have been traced to the Politics are the dis-
tinction between instruments of production and “instruments of
action” or consumption goods,4 and the observation that the use
value of an article will at some point begin to decline as the quantity
of that article increases.5
t h e school of sa l a m a nc a
We now come to the main purpose of the present chapter,
which is to examine the theory of value and the ideas on money,
banking, and foreign exchange held by the Spanish scholastic writers
of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Before we can do so we
must see something of the circumstances that helped to call up their
teaching.
We have already mentioned the salient features of the “age of
mercantilism” in Castile. At the end of the fifteenth century Castile
was a poor kingdom, recently emerged from the long struggle of the
Reconquest, and but newly allied to her more prosperous neighbor,
96 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
Aragon. Her economy depended on subsistence farming, on the
wool trade, and on the shipping that made use of the Cantabrian and
Mediterranean ports. Her sons were farmers, cattle-owners, soldiers,
sailors, and priests.
It was to this dour kingdom of Castile that fate assigned the riches
of El Dorado. In the Indies the Spaniards found gold and silver in
quantities undreamed of a few years before. American treasure began
to reach Spain at the beginning of the sixteenth century, and in
larger quantities from 1535 onwards. The richest mines were opened
between 1545 and 1558, and the flood of treasure continued unabated
during the rest of the sixteenth century.
What were the effects on Spain of such extraordinary and unex-
pected good fortune? They may be briefly summarized as follows.
Castile entered a period of inflation caused by the demand in the
New World for the products of the mother country, and by the influx
of gold and silver that was shipped to Spain in compensation for her
exports to the colonies. Seville, the home port of the treasure fleet,
became a magnet for the merchants of all Europe. A trade boom set
in. Prices rose, first in Seville, then throughout New Castile, and
later in Old Castile, Valencia, and the rest of Spain, doubling them-
selves in the first half of the sixteenth century and again in the second.
Such a rise in prices may seem moderate to us today, but from
contemporary observers it evoked prophecies of doom that were all
too soon to be fulfilled. Spain found herself increasingly unable to
sell her products abroad, and increasingly threatened by foreign com-
petition in both her home market and her Indian trade. The govern-
ment followed a vacillating policy, now (in 1552) trying to supply the
shortage of goods by throwing open the Spanish market to certain
foreign manufactures, now (in 1558) reversing this policy with a view
to preventing the outflow of the precious metals.
In addition to a lack of goods, an excessively high price level, and a
crushing burden of taxation, there were other factors that helped turn
the tide of Spanish fortunes. Agriculture declined after the expul-
sion of the Moors who had tended the land so lovingly. The world
of industry and commerce did not gain by exchanging the Jews, who
had looked on Spain as their ancestral homeland, for Italians whose
links with the country were weaker. The Spanish merchant families,
The School of Salamanca 97
when once their fortunes were established, showed in succeeding
generations a tendency to sell their businesses, buy land with the
proceeds, and retire to the tranquil pleasures of their estates. In every
sphere of the national life there was a lack of skilled and experienced
leadership.
The internal problems of Spain were grave enough. Yet they
might, perhaps, have found solution had it not been for the heavi-
est of all the drags that hampered Castilian progress—Spain’s close
political links with Europe and her involvement in the wars to which
the Habsburgs were committed.
The influx of silver lessened at the beginning of the seventeenth
century and fell off abruptly after 1650, the Indian trade passed
almost entirely into foreign hands, and the population of the Castil-
ian cities declined. Spain, to whom the conquest of the Indies might
have brought lasting progress, entered a long period of economic
stagnation and became in the later seventeenth century as she had
been in the Middle Ages, a poor, a “backward” country, inferior to
her neighbors, if in no way culturally, yet in all the benefits that mate-
rial prosperity can bring.
The sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries were in every sense
a golden age for Spain. How far, if at all, that great flowering of art
and literature was stimulated by the inflow of American treasure can
only be a matter for conjecture. It is otherwise in the case of learning,
where the more notable Spanish achievements were closely related to
the conquest of the Indies and all that followed from it.
Since the completion of the Reconquest, the Spanish universi-
ties had come to occupy a foremost place among those of Europe. In
particular, the University of Salamanca was famed for the brilliant
teachers who were attracted to its chairs: grammarians, poets, histo-
rians, and, above all, theologians, philosophers, and jurists.
At the beginning of the sixteenth century the old scholastic tradi-
tion, though threatened and to some extent modified by the “new
learning,” was still very much alive. Indeed, important scholastic
treatises would continue to be written in many countries for another
century and a half. Scholasticism was outwardly unchanged. In form
there is little to distinguish, let us say, a sixteenth-century commen-
tary on St. Thomas’s doctrine of the Just Price from one written in
98 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
the fourteenth, except that it will probably be longer and more elab-
orate. Questions, Articles, Objections, Distinctions, Solutions, and
Conclusions follow one another in dutiful procession, and the most
trivial statements are supported by a heavy apparatus of citations.
In contrast to their unbending rigidity of form, the Spanish trea-
tises display considerable flexibility in the development of their themes.
To begin with, their authors did not shrink from the task of defin-
ing the relations that were in process of creation between the Span-
ish Crown and the recently won kingdoms of the New World. It was
urgently necessary to find a juridical order that would govern this new
colonial association, and, in their search for the principles on which
it might be established, the Spanish theologians and jurists laid the
foundation of the science of international law as we know it today.29
In addition to the moral and juridical problems that confronted
the Spanish Crown in its relations with the conquered peoples of the
Indies, the economic condition of the country was causing general
concern. The inflation provoked in Spain as a result of the American
enterprise could not fail to sow dismay and perplexity. The Church’s
warnings against the sin of avarice passed unheeded when opportu-
nities for enrichment offered themselves every day. Usury flourished,
often in the guise of legitimate commerce. Indeed, it was hard to dis-
tinguish between the two things, and in such deep matters, where
even the Doctors differed, how could a simple priest be expected to
guide his penitents? Our Spanish writers, building on the work of
their predecessors, made what proved to be the last great attempt to
tackle the problem of usury, and in so doing developed various con-
cepts that have passed into modern economic theory.
As the sixteenth century advanced, the conflict between business
practice and the Church’s teaching grew ever more acute. In 1517,
and again in 1532, the Spanish merchants of Antwerp sent to Paris
to obtain a ruling on the legitimacy of exchange transactions from
the learned doctors of the Sorbonne.30 The second Reply includes an
opinion given at Salamanca by Francisco de Vitoria. It is now time
for us to make Vitoria’s acquaintance, and that of the other scholars
who lived and taught in Spain.
Vitoria, the founder of the School of Salamanca, was born at Bur-
gos in 1492 or 1493. He joined the Dominican Order while still a boy,
The School of Salamanca 99
and in 1506 went to Paris where he studied and taught at the Sor-
bonne until 1522. In 1512 Vitoria helped to bring out the first modern
edition of the second part of St. Thomas’s Summa theologica, and
in 1522 an edition of St. Antonino of Florence’s Summa. We have
seen that both these works are important landmarks in the history
of economic thought.
In 1522 Vitoria returned to Spain. After teaching for four years at
Valladolid, he obtained a chair of theology at the University of Sala-
manca, where he remained until his death in 1546. Vitoria’s fame rests
on the brilliant lectures in which he sought to reconcile Thomist doc-
trine with the manifold legal, political, ethical, and economic prob-
lems that arose in the government of the far-flung Spanish Empire.
Vitoria wrote no book of his own—or, at least, none that has come
down to us. We know his work only through the lecture notes taken
by his students. Yet his influence on his own and later generations
was great: it is not too much to say that the science of international
law originated in his lecture room at Salamanca.31
Among the founders of the School of Salamanca, probably the
most thorough and systematic exponent of its philosophy was
Domingo de Soto (1495–1560). Of humble origin, Soto studied at
Alcalá and later in Paris, where he attended Vitoria’s lectures. In 1520
he returned to Alcalá to occupy a chair of metaphysics. In 1525 he
entered the Dominican Order and in 1532 was appointed to a chair
of theology at Salamanca. In 1545 he was named by Charles V as his
representative on the Council of Trent in succession to Vitoria, who
was in failing health. In 1548 Soto became confessor to the emperor,
but two years later he gave up this influential post in order to return
to his work at Salamanca.
Soto’s fame rests chiefly on his treatise De justitia et jure, which
went through no less than twenty-seven editions in fifty years.32 In
this work Soto pays careful attention to economic problems and
even goes so far as to say that his desire to discuss the subjects of
usury, contracts, exchange business, and simony was his main motive
for assuming the burden of writing it. Soto devotes chapters to the
place of commerce within the State, the fixing of the just price, the
fluctuations of that price and their cause, rent charges, commercial
companies and the propriety of investment in them by Christians,
100 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
and the nature of insurance, illustrating his doctrine with copious
descriptions of the business life of his day. Particularly valuable is his
account of the Spanish and Flemish fairs, which were held in con-
junction with one another and which together constituted one of
the main channels by which American treasure flowed from Seville
across the Pyrenees. As Soto truly remarks, “an author who seeks to
reprehend the customs of the exchanges must note the practice of
merchants with his own eyes.”
Another founder member of the school was Martín de Azpilcueta,
generally called Navarrus (1493–1586). He, too, after a brief period in
Cahors and Toulouse, came to occupy a chair at Salamanca, where he
introduced a new method of teaching civil law, combining its exposi-
tion with that of canon law. This innovation, and Azpilcueta’s vast
learning, drew large audiences to his lecture room.
In 1538 Azpilcueta was sent by Charles V to the newly-established
University of Coimbra, where for some years he continued to
expound and develop the principles of international law that had
been laid down by his friend and colleague, Vitoria. Azpilcueta spent
his last years in Rome, becoming the trusted counsellor of Pius V,
Gregory XIII, and Sixtus V. Admired and consulted even in extreme
old age, he was generally regarded as the most eminent canon lawyer
of his day.
For economists Azpilcueta must ever be notable as having made
the first clear and definite statement of the quantity theory of money.
The passage in question is included in a commentary on foreign
exchange which is often printed, together with four other commen-
taries, as an appendix to a manual of moral theology which Azpilcu-
eta dedicated to his friend and patroness, the Princess Juana, sister of
Philip II. Originally written in Portuguese, the manual enjoyed great
success, going through edition after edition and being translated into
Spanish, Latin, and Italian before the end of the sixteenth century.33
These three writers—Vitoria, Soto, and Azpilcueta—were born
within a year or so of each other and, though Soto and Azpilcueta
acknowledged Vitoria as their leader, were of equal eminence and
seniority. Another distinguished expert on economic questions was
Juan de Medina (1490–1546), who, however, taught not at Sala-
manca but at Alcalá. Medina’s best-known work, a treatise on penance
The School of Salamanca 101
which includes chapters on usury and the exchanges, was published
in 1550. Medina is often cited by later writers on that branch of moral
theology with which we are concerned.34
Among the minor writers of this first phase of Spanish pre-
eminence in moral theology are three authors of handbooks for
merchants, published in 1542, 1543, and 1544, respectively, in which
the doctrines of greater theologians are succinctly explained for the
benefit of confessors and their penitents: Cristóbal de Villalón,35
Luís de Alcalá,36 and Luís Saravia de la Calle.37 Their little treatises
are frequently cited by later writers. Saravia, in particular, enjoyed
considerable influence, since his work was translated into Italian in
1561 and found at least one close imitator in Italy.38
We now come to rather younger men who nevertheless were con-
temporaries of Vitoria. Diego de Covarrubias y Leiva was the great-
est jurist among them. A pupil of Azpilcueta’s, he spent ten years at
Salamanca as professor of canon law. In 1548 the emperor named him
auditor of the Chancellery of Castile, in 1560 he became Bishop of
Ciudad Rodrigo, and in 1564 Bishop of Segovia. In 1572 he attained
to the supreme magistrature of Castile, but in 1577 his death deprived
Spain of a learned jurist and a sagacious statesman. Covarrubias was
a man of remarkably wide culture. His writings are not confined to
legal problems but relate to many aspects of theology, history, philol-
ogy, numismatics, and other branches of learning.39
Among other Doctors of Covarrubias’s generation there were
many who followed and developed the teaching of the School of Sal-
amanca. Especially to be mentioned are Domingo de Bañez, Tomás
de Mercado, Francisco García, and Luís de Molina, but I am far
from wishing to defend this selection as definitive. My only reason
for omitting the Jesuit, Diego Lainez, for example, is the trivial one
that his writings circulated in manuscript and were not printed until
1886. Many other writers of the period whose work has been forgot-
ten would repay study.
The Dominican Domingo de Bañez (1527–1604), who for some
years taught theology at Salamanca, is remembered as the friend
and confessor of St. Theresa. His doctrine of grace was opposed by
Molina, and a polemic ensued which troubled the whole cultural
and religious life of Spain during the closing years of the sixteenth
102 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
century. The pope finally imposed silence on the contending par-
ties, but the writings of Bañez and Molina passed into Belgium and
France, bearing with them the seeds of Jansenism. In his commentary
on St. Thomas, Bañez closely follows the plan of the Summa, which
he discusses question by question and article by article, demonstrat-
ing yet again how firmly the teaching of the School of Salamanca
remained anchored in that of the “Angelic Doctor.”40
We have already had occasion to glance at the work of Tomás de
Mercado. Little is known of his life, except that he was born in Seville,
went as a young man to Mexico, where he entered the Dominican
Order, spent some years at Salamanca and in Seville, and died at sea
while on his way back to Mexico. In the course of his travels and
in Seville, Mercado acquired a thorough knowledge of the business
practice of the day. His handbook of moral guidance for merchants,
based on the doctrines of the leading theologians, stands out as a
model of penetrating observation and realistic counsel, expressed in
a pithy and often humorous style. Mercado is frequently cited by later
writers.41
Francisco García was a Dominican, born in Valencia, and profes-
sor of sacred theology at Tarragona. In his little treatise of populari-
zation García explains the ideas of the Doctors in a clear, thoughtful,
and sometimes original manner, referring frequently to the business
customs of his day.42
The Jesuit Luís de Molina (1535–1601) was not only a theologian
of great repute and authority but also an excellent civil lawyer. His
treatise on commutative justice provides a wealth of information on
every branch of contemporary economic life.43
Among the numerous younger men who continued in the tradi-
tion of the School of Salamanca may be mentioned the Augustin-
ian friar Miguel Salón (1538–1620) and the Jesuits Juan de Salas
(1553–1612) and Francisco Suárez (1548–1617).
Miguel Salón, as his name suggests, came of a New Christian fam-
ily. He was born and died in Valencia, and in his treatise on commu-
tative justice gives much curious information about the commercial
life of that city.44
Juan de Salas taught at Salamanca. His commentary on St. Thomas
is divided into five parts, which treat of buying and selling, usury, rent
The School of Salamanca 103
charges, exchange transactions, and gambling. Sala’s work is detailed
but lucid, and he lightens our task by placing at the head of each sec-
tion of his work a bibliography of the subject he is about to discuss.45
Francisco Suárez was a celebrated theologian and jurist who
taught successively at Segovia, Rome, Alcalá, Salamanca, and Coim-
bra. In Rome Suárez was the teacher of Leonard Lessius, the Belgian
theologian who closely followed the doctrines of the School of Sala-
manca and helped to propagate them in the Netherlands. Suárez’s
writings exercised a marked influence on Grotius and Pufendorf. His
importance for us lies more in his eminence as a theologian than in
any novelty that may be shown in his economic doctrine.46
The Jesuit cardinal Juan de Lugo (1583–1660) was the last great
Spanish follower of the School of Salamanca,47 whose doctrine may
thus be said to have flourished in full vigor for some hundred and
twenty years. By the middle of the seventeenth century this vigor was
almost spent, and the Indian summer of scholasticism had begun to
pass away. True, the second half of the seventeenth century still yields
the names of many Spanish theologians. But few of them are much
more distinguished than that of Antonio de Escobar (1589–1669),
author of a popular handbook for confessors that served as a target
for Pascal’s wit and endowed the French language with a new word,
escobarderie, to denote what were generally held to be the quibblings
of the casuists.48
We shall later see in some detail that the economic teaching of the
School of Salamanca had, by the middle of the seventeenth century,
passed far beyond the confines of moral theology. Embodied in trea-
tises of natural law and of the law of nations, as well as in the writings
of political economists, it had, well before the death of scholasticism,
become part of the common cultural heritage. For the present, how-
ever, let us examine some of the ways in which the Spanish late scho-
lastics modified and developed medieval economic doctrine.
Theory of Value
The Spanish Doctors made a useful contribution to the prog-
ress of value theory. In their doctrine of the Just Price they
consolidated and popularized the advances made by their pre-
decessors, tested accepted theory against contemporary events,
104 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
and transmitted to later economists a more complete and better
elaborated theory of value.
We have seen that by the end of the fifteenth century it was gen-
erally accepted that the value or price49 of a thing was justly to be
assessed according to the abundance or scarcity of the object in ques-
tion and its suitability for serving man’s needs. It was also held that
value is not to be measured by the need or demand of a single individ-
ual but by that of the community as a whole. The “common estima-
tion” or market assessment of value was thus the chief determinant
of the just price. Labor and costs were also allowed to play some part
in the determination of value.
We may begin our account of the theory of value held by the Span-
ish scholastics by glancing at the teaching of Francisco de Vitoria,
founder of the School of Salamanca. Our information is drawn from
the lecture notes of a course of lectures given by Vitoria at Salamanca
between 1534 and 1537.50
Vitoria’s theory of value was based on the principles I have just
summarized. He considers two main classes of goods: those whose
price is fixed by the State and those whose price is not so fixed.
Vitoria has not much to say about the value of things whose price
is fixed by the State. Like the generality of the moralists and jurists
who preceded him, he assumes that the legal price is also the just
price, and as such to be upheld.
On the subject of things whose price is not fixed by the State,
however, Vitoria would seem to depart some way from traditional
doctrine. He makes a careful distinction between things that are nec-
essary for human life and things that are not. In the case of necessi-
ties, the just price is the market price, which reflects the “common
estimation” based on utility, supply-and-demand, and so on, without
regard to cost of production. But it sometimes happens that a thing
has no market value; as, for example, “in the case of wheat which
in time of dearth has come into the hands of one or a few sellers.” In
this situation the price must be settled between the parties them-
selves, and cost of production may be taken into account. Vitoria
adds that luxuries, such as lutes or precious stones, may be sold for
what we should call a “fancy price,” because the buyer is under no
compulsion to pay the high price demanded, and does so of his own
free will.
The School of Salamanca 105
Thus Vitoria accepts, in principle, the law of supply and demand
as the main determinant of price, but only in conditions of perfect
competition.51
A neat discussion of value is included by Juan de Medina in his
treatise. If, he says, a new kind of merchandise is brought into a place
and there is no law to determine its price, then we should consider
the factors proceeding from (a) the vendor, (b) the purchaser, and
(c) the thing itself. Under (a) we include costs, labor, care, industry,
and risk; under (b) the need felt for the good, the fewer or greater
number of prospective buyers, and complacibilitas or taste; and under
(c) the rarity or commonness of the thing, its fertility, the advantages
it offers its owner, and its condition.52
An extreme form of utility theory was expounded by Saravia de la
Calle, who does not adopt Vitoria’s distinction between luxuries and
necessities: “In order to determine the just price we need only con-
sider these three things: abundance or scarcity of goods, merchants,
and money—of things that people want to barter or exchange for
money. This doctrine is founded on Aristotle’s dictum, pretium rei
humana indigentia mensurat, ‘the price of things is measured by
human need.’ ”53
Saravia denies, and with considerable vehemence, that cost of
production can play any part in the determination of price. Like his
medieval predecessors, he views the poor man not as producer but as
consumer and clearly fears that any relaxation of this tenet will give
merchants an excuse for raising prices on the pretext of recouping
their expenses:
Those who measure the just price by the labour, costs, and risk
incurred by the person who deals in the merchandise or produces
it, or by the cost of transport or the expense of travelling to
and from the fair, or by what he has to pay the factors for their
industry, risk and labour, are greatly in error, and still more so are
those who allow a certain profit of a fifth or a tenth. For the just
price arises from the abundance or scarcity of goods, merchants,
and money, as has been said, and not from costs, labour, and risk.
If we had to consider labour and risk in order to assess the just
price, no merchant would ever suffer loss, nor would abundance
or scarcity of goods and money enter into the question.
106 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
The same view is expressed by Covarrubias:
The value of an article does not depend on its essential nature
but on the estimation of men, even if that estimation be foolish.
Thus, in the Indies wheat is dearer than in Spain because men
esteem it more highly, though the nature of the wheat is the
same in both places.54
In assessing the just price, Covarrubias continues, we are not to con-
sider how much the article originally cost, nor the labor its acquisi-
tion cost the vendor, but only its common market value in the place
where it is sold. Prices fall when buyers are few and goods and vendors
many, and rise when the contrary conditions prevail.
A modified version of the same utility theory of value was held by
Domingo de Soto:
The price of goods is not determined by their nature but by the
measure in which they serve the needs of mankind . . . Aristotle
says that want is the cause and measure of human commerce. If
no one needed the goods or labour of his fellows, men would
cease to exchange their products. We have to admit, then, that
want is the basis of price.55
Soto, however, differs from Vitoria, Saravia, and Covarrubias in hold-
ing that, although the demand that exists for the article in question,
and its abundance or scarcity, are the first things to be considered
in the assessment of price, we have also to bear in mind the “labor,
trouble, and risk” that the transaction involves.
Much the same ideas on value and price are expressed in most of
the late scholastic treatises that I have read. Some authors deny that
the cost of production should be allowed any part in the determina-
tion of price; others allow that it may be taken into account; but it
is generally agreed that the most important factors to be considered
in assessing the “natural” or uncontrolled price of a commodity are
the “estimation” in which that commodity is commonly held (such
estimation reflecting the utility of the thing in question), and the
forces of supply and demand.
As time went on, this predominantly subjective theory of the Just
Price was elaborated a little further. Francisco García, for instance,
The School of Salamanca 107
analyzes the concept of utility rather more deeply. He suggests that
a thing may be used in a way that is necessary for the preservation of
human life, for pleasure, as an adornment, or to delight our curiosity,
and also that the utility or value of a thing may vary because (1) one
object may have many uses and serve more purposes than another,
(2) it may render a more important service than another, and (3) it
may perform a given service better than another.56
A little-known author, Bartolomé de Albornoz, develops these
concepts at length and tells the story of King Tarquin and the Sibyl-
line books to illustrate the principle that price, as the expression of
estimation, increases with rarity.57
Coming into the seventeenth century we find our scholastic doctrine
of the Just Price continuing to flourish in the work of the Spanish theo-
logians. Juan de Salas, professor of theology at Salamanca, whose treatise
on contracts appeared in 1617, remarks that the price of goods depends
on their utility. The price will vary according to the abundance or scar-
city of the goods and money, the newness or antiquity of the goods, “the
common utility of the article and the need felt for it,” and the manner
of sale (whether wholesale, retail, in bulk, or by auction). Salas adds that
“goods sold in the warehouse are cheap, because this mode of sale indi-
cates abundance of goods and scarcity of buyers and money, and suggests
that the articles possess only slight utility for the vendor.”58
Juan de Lugo, a learned and influential Jesuit theologian, whose
treatise De justitia et jure, published in 1642, was reprinted several
times during the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries,
observes that price fluctuates
not because of the intrinsic and substantial perfection of the
articles—since mice are more perfect than corn, and yet are
worth less—but on account of their utility in respect of human
need, and then only on account of estimation; for jewels are
much less useful than corn in the house, and yet their price
is much higher. And we must take into account not only the
estimation of prudent men, but also that of the imprudent, if
they are sufficiently numerous in a place. This is why our glass
trinkets are in Ethiopia justly exchanged for gold, because they
are commonly more esteemed there. And among the Japanese
108 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
old objects made of iron and pottery, which are worth nothing
to us, fetch a high price because of their antiquity. Communal
estimation, even when foolish, raises the natural price of goods,
since price is derived from estimation. The natural price is
raised by abundance of buyers and money, and lowered by the
contrary factors.59
There are exceptions to every rule. The celebrated jurist, theolo-
gian, philosopher, and classical scholar, Pedro de Valencia, took a dif-
ferent view. In his Discourse on the Price of Wheat (1605) he defends
the tasa or fixed maximum price on wheat which he suggests should
be assessed in terms of labor rather than money. We should consider
only how many working days ought in justice to be paid for a measure
of wheat, allowing the laborer sufficient for his needs, and calculate
the price accordingly.60
Molina, who frequently cites Mercado, says that there are two
ways in which money may be worth more in one place than in
another. The first is when law or custom attributes different val-
ues to the money. The second is when money is more abundant in
one place than in another. All else being equal, wherever money
is more abundant, there will it be worth less in comparison with
other things. Just as an abundance of goods causes their price to fall
when the quantity of money in the market does not vary, so does
abundance of money cause money to fall in value. Molina adds that
this is the reason for the rise in prices in Spain, which, he says, at
the time when he wrote were three times as high as they had been
eighty years before.68
Using the term “extrinsic value” instead of “estimation,” Juan de
Lugo in 1642 explained the purchasing power theory as follows:
t h e su rv i va l of t h e schol a st ic
doc t r i n e of va lu e
One of the notable features of the work of our Spanish Doc-
tors was the adoption and development of a theory of value inherited
from earlier writers and based on the concepts of utility and scarcity.
We have already seen something of this subjective theory of value,
and I should like to conclude this chapter by showing how it was
transmitted from writer to writer during the later seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries.
Italy
In Italy, as in Spain, scholasticism continued to flourish until well
on into the eighteenth century. Among the numerous treatises of
moral theology that appeared at this later period we may mention
those of Pietro Catalano,73 Martino Bonacina,74 Antonino Diana,75
Giambattista de Luca,76 and Clemente Piselli.77 In these and other
works we find frequent references to the Spanish Doctors, whose
teaching is passed on with little modification.
Non-scholastic works on political and economic subjects had
begun to be written at the beginning of the sixteenth century, and
as time went on they appeared in increasing numbers. The authors
of such books had received a scholastic education, and the ideas they
imbibed at the universities were reflected in their work. But they had
also learned how to present traditional doctrine in a new and attrac-
tive form. It was no longer the fashion to arrange one’s treatise in
The School of Salamanca 115
the form of a long chain of scholastic disputations, probably writ-
ten in highly technical Latin and rendered still more abstruse by the
employment of an elaborate code of references and abbreviations
that could be understood only by experts. On the contrary, there
was a vogue for freely composed works, meant to entertain as well as
instruct, in which the scholastic form and apparatus were discarded
while the doctrines themselves suffered no sudden modification.
A good example of such a composition is Davanzati’s Lezione delle
Monete (1588). Davanzati simply presents, yet again, the Platonic and
Aristotelian account of the origin and functions of money, develops
the scholastic theory of value based on utility and scarcity, and con-
demns debasement of the currency. Yet he does so in so delightful and
winning a manner, and with such a wealth of adornment and illustra-
tion, that these well-worn ideas strike us as charming novelties.78
We have seen that the famous “paradox of value”—the observa-
tion that many useful commodities such as water have a low exchange
value, or none, whereas others less useful such as diamonds have a
high one—had been glimpsed by Aristotle and stated in many scho-
lastic treatises from the time of St. Antonino onwards. Devanzati
allots the “paradox” some paragraphs of his Lezione and resolves it in
the traditional way by appealing to the concept of scarcity.
It was left, however, to a philosopher of the Enlightenment, the
Abbé Galiani (1728–87), to carry the utility theory of value to the
highest point of development that it reached before the time of
Jevons and Menger. After remarking that “it is evident that air and
water, which are elements most useful for human life, have no value
whatsoever, because they are not scarce; and that a bag of sand from
the shores of Japan may well be rare, but, since it is of no particular
use, it would have no value,”79 Galiani goes on to define the term
“scarcity” as “the proportion that exists between the quantity of a
thing and the use that is made of it.” He thus treats utility and scarcity
as the two faces of a single coin.
In pointing out the interrelation between utility and scarcity
Galiani was, so far as I know, original. But in some respects he owed
much to his scholastic predecessors and contemporaries. Galiani
often refers to Aristotle, “the Aristotelians,” “the corpus of moral-
ists and juriconsults,” “the scholastics,” and “many theologians,”
116 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
but names only Covarrubias, passing on immediately to such non-
scholastic authors as Davanzati, Locke, and Petty. This does not mean
that he was less well-read in scholastic literature than he claims to be.
On usury and the exchanges he closely follows scholastic doctrine,
employing the accepted technical terms (mutuum, cambium minu-
tum, cambium per litteras, cambium siccun, and so on). It is prob-
able, if not certain, that he drew his basic theory of value from the
same source. This supposition is in no way weakened by the fact that
Galiani, after expounding a subjective theory of value based on util-
ity and scarcity, suddenly declares that fatica (labor) is the element
that gives value to things. We have already noted that in the writings
of the scholastics it is by no means unusual to find a psychological
theory of value running side by side with some form of labor theory.
Many such glimpses of scholastic doctrine may be gleaned from
the work of the numerous other Italian writers who so brilliantly
advanced the progress of economic theory in the seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries. An outstanding example is Cesare Bonesana,
Marchese de Beccaria, who adopts a markedly subjective theory of
value that centers on utility and scarcity.80
France
The regin of scholasticism came to an end rather sooner in France
than in Italy. As early as 1546 Charles du Moulin had impugned the
prohibition of usury, advocating the toleration of a moderate rate of
interest and poking fun at the jargon and oversubtle distinctions of
the Doctors. But his boldness was premature, and shocking to both
Catholics and Calvinists.
By the second half of the seventeenth century the climate of
opinion was changing. Few writers now cared to put up a vigorous
defense of the Church’s traditional usury doctrine, though one or
two paid it lip-service.81 Among the handbooks for confessors pop-
ular in France was that of the Spanish Jesuit, Antonio de Escobar,
based on the teaching of the School of Salamanca.82 Escobar’s laxness
on the subject of usury and dubious contracts, especially the moha-
tra, was severely castigated by Pascal in the eighth of his Provincial
Letters. The scholastic theory of value is faithfully reproduced by
Escobar, according to whom the natural price of a thing depends on
The School of Salamanca 117
the estimation of men, taking into account the scarcity or plenty of
goods, buyers, sellers and money, the utility of the article in question,
the manner of sale, and the labor and expenses of merchants.
As the eighteenth century wore on, the ecclesiastical doctrine of
usury fell more and more into disrepute. The subjective theory of
value that had been forged in the medieval discussions of the Just
Price survived, however, in France as in Italy. True, the philosophes
refer to the Doctors with contempt, but their own Encyclopédie fre-
quently echoes scholastic doctrine: as, for example, in its distinction
between the legal price (prix légitime, set by ordinance) and the mar-
ket price or prix courant, set by common estimation, and also in its
treatment of monopoly and dry exchange.
The value theory of Condillac and Turgot is strongly reminiscent
of the teaching of the School of Salamanca and other late scholastics.
The two French writers agree in minimizing the effects of cost of pro-
duction on price and hold that value is determined primarily by the
need felt for the article in question and by its utility and rarity. The
medieval concept of “common estimation” is reflected in Turgot’s
doctrine that price is the expression of “valeur appréciative,” which
is the valeur estimative moyenne arrived at by comparing the subjec-
tive value of the article in the minds of the various individuals who
make up the market. Goods and money are treated from the same
subjective standpoint, the foreign exchanges being held to reflect the
relative utility of money in the various countries.83
Yet another link between the late scholastics and the economics of
laissez-faire is formed by the value theory of François Quesnay, leader
of the physiocratic school of economists that flourished between 1750
and 1770. Quesnay’s theory of value is not easy to track down and is
sometimes contradictory. The clearest statement of a utility theory of
value that I have found in his work is contained in the article “Hommes”
which he wrote for the Encyclopédie in 1757 but which was not
published until 1908.84 In this article we find the scholastic distinc-
tion between value in use (which Quesnay calls valeur usuelle) and
value in exchange (valeur vénale), the “paradox of value” (Quesnay
follows tradition by using diamonds as his example, but, by way of
novelty, contrasts their value with that of food instead of water),
and the traditional insistence upon rarity as the chief determinant
118 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
of price, all concepts that were to reappear in the work of Quesnay’s
friend and admirer, Adam Smith.
The value theory of Condillac, Turgot, and other French
authors led up to the more sophisticated utility theory of Jean-
Baptiste Say (1767–1832). Say regarded himself as a faithful dis-
ciple of Adam Smith and as his interpreter in France. Yet, so far
as the pivotal concept of value was concerned, Say turned away
from Smith’s labor theory (the work of Ricardo, the continuator
of the labor theory of value, had not been published when Say’s
Traité d’Economie politique appeared in 1803) and, starting from
Condillac’s principle that value depended on utility and scarcity,
established a subjective theory of value that was retained by all
the important French economists of the nineteenth century and
that awaited only the more systematic treatment of the concept of
diminishing utility to culminate in the marginal-utility analysis of
modern economics.
England
In England the survival of the utility theory of value seems to
have taken a fitful course. The most influential economist of the sev-
enteenth century, Sir William Petty (1623–87), regards labor as the
chief source and measure of value, a proposition he elaborates in sev-
eral notable passages.
The value theory of John Locke (1632–1704) is less easy to define.
In one of his works, in the course of a discussion on the origin of
private property, Locke follows Petty in regarding labor as the main
source of value. Men, he says, justly acquired property in the first place
by mingling their labor with the gifts of nature.90 But in another of
his writings Locke takes over the scholastic theory of value inherited
from Aristotle, the scholastics, and Grotius:
The Intrinsick Natural worth of any Thing consists in this, that
it is apt to be serviceable to the Necessities or Conveniences of
human life, and it is naturally more worth, as the Necessity or
Conveniency it supplies is greater91
122 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
although
the Being of any good and useful quality in any thing, neither
increases its Price, nor indeed makes it have any Price at all, but
only as it lessens its quantity or increases its vent, each of these in
proportion to one another.92
What more useful things, continues Locke, are there than air and
water? Yet these generally have no price at all. As soon as water
becomes scarce, however, it does have a price and is sometimes sold
dearer than wine.
John Law (1671–1729) was recognized by L. Mises as a forerunner
of the Austrian school on account of his subjective theory of value,
which he applied to money as well as goods.93 Law brings forward yet
again our old paradox of value:
Goods have a value from the Uses they are apply’d to; and their
Value is Greater or Lesser, not so much from their more or less
valuable, or necessary Uses; as from the greater or lesser Quantity
of them in proportion to the Demand for them. Example. Water
is of great use, yet of little value; because the Quantity of Water
is much greater than the demand for it. Diamonds are of little
use, yet of great Value, because the Demand for Diamonds is
much greater than the Quantity of them.94
not es
1. There are several lists of scholastic writers, including Spanish authors,
whose work offers a more or less developed body of economic thought. For
our purpose the two most helpful are R. de Roover, L’Évolution de la lettre
de change (Paris, 1953), pp. 170–219, and D. Iparraguirre, “Las fuentes del
pensamiento económico en España en los siglos XIII al XVI,” Estudios de
Deusto, 2a epoca, Vol. 2, No. 3, 1954 (Bilbao).
De Roover lists authors of all nationalities who are notable for their dis-
cussions of exchange business. Since many of them also wrote on other eco-
nomic problems, de Roover’s bibliography is of wider interest than appears
at first sight. Iparraguirre lists Spanish authors only but includes writers
who covered a considerable range of subjects. The two bibliographies there-
fore supplement one another usefully. From them may be gleaned about
fifty names of Spanish scholastic writers who are, or who may be expected
to be, of interest to the historian of economic doctrine. Most belong to the
sixteenth or seventeenth centuries, and many expounded and developed the
teaching of the School of Salamanca.
A valuable supplementary list of Spanish moralists of the sixteenth cen-
tury who discussed economic problems is given by B. Alonso Rodríguez,
Monografias de moralistas españoles sobre temas ecónomicos (s. XVI), in Re-
pertorio de Historia de las Ciencias Eclesiásticas en España, published by the
Instituto de Historia de la Teología española (Salamanca, 1971), pp. 147–81.
The economic thought of the Spanish scholastics is discussed by B. W.
Dempsey, Interest and Usury (London, 1928); J. Larraz, La época del mercan-
tilismo en Castilla, 1500–1700 (Madrid, 1943); Marjorie Grice-Hutchinson,
The School of Salamanca (Oxford, 1952); R. de Roover, “Scholastic eco-
nomics; survival and lasting influence from the sixteenth century to Adam
Smith,” Quarterly Journal of Economics, Vol. 69, May 1955, pp. 161–90;
D. Iparraguirre, Francisco de Vitoria: una teoría social del valor económico
(Bilbao, 1957); W. Weber, Wirtschaftsethik am Vorabend des Liberalis-
mus (Münster, 1959) and Geld und Zins in der spanischen Spätscholastik
(Münster, 1962); Ichiro Iizuka, Studies in the History of Monetary Theory
The School of Salamanca 125
(Tokyo, 1969) (in Japanese); B. Gordon, Economic Analysis Before Adam
Smith (London, 1975), pp. 212–17 and 236–43; R. Sierra Bravo, El pensami-
ento social y económico de la escolástica (Madrid, 1975).
2. Politics, 1256a.
3. Ibid., 1257a–1258b.
4. Ibid., 1254a.
5. Ibid., 1323b.
6. K. S. Cahn, “The Roman and Frankish roots of the Just Price of medi-
eval canon law,” Studies in Medieval and Renaissance History (Lincoln,
Nebr.), Vol. 6, pp. 12–36.
7. St. Albert, Commentarii in Sententiarum Petri Lombardi, in Opera
omnia (Paris, 1890–99), Vol. 29, p. 638, dist. 16, art. 45.
8. St. Albert, In X libros Ethicorum, ed. cit., Vol. 7, Lib. 5, tract. 2, cap. 7.
9. St. Thomas, Summa theologia, in Opera omnia (Paris, 1871–80), Vol. 3,
2, 2, qu. 77, art. 1.
10. St. Thomas, In X libros Ethicorum, ed. cit., Vol. 25, ch. 5, lect. 9.
11. Ibid., lects. 7 and 8.
12. Duns Scotus, In IV librum sententiarum, dist. 15, q. 2, no. 22.
13. Langenstein’s treatise on contracts was published as an appen-
dix to Vol. 4 of John Gerson’s Opera omnia (Cologne, 1483), but has
not been included in later editions. An account of his doctrine is given
by E. Schreiber, Die volkswirtschaftlichen Anschaungen der Scholastik seit
Thomas von Aquin ( Jena, 1913).
14. For the names of some of the more prominent supporters of this
thesis consult R. de Roover, “The concept of the Just Price: theory and eco-
nomic policy,” Journal of Economic History, 18, December 1958.
15. St. Bernardino of Siena, De Evangelio aeterno, sermons 32–45, in
Opera omnia (Florence, 1950–63), Vol. 4. St. Antonino, Summa theologica
(Verona, 1740–41). St. Antonino’s theory of value is developed in pt. 2,
tit. 1 (De Avritia).
On the economic thought of these two writers we have R. de Roover’s
study, San Bernardino of Siena and Sant’ Antonino of Florence: The Two
Great Economic Thinkers of the Middle Ages, Publication No. 19 of the Kress
Library of Business and Economics (Cambridge, Mass., 1967). A full bibli-
ography is given.
16. St. Bernardino, op. cit., serm. 35, art. 1, ch. 1. St. Antonino, op. cit., pt. 2,
tit. 1, ch. 16, p. 2.
126 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
17. St. Bernardino, op. cit., serm, 35, art. 2, chs. 2 and 3. St. Antonino, op.
cit., pt. 3, tit. 8, ch. 2.
18. John Buridan, Quaestiones super VIII libros politicorum Aristoteles
(Paris, 1513), Bk. 1, Q. 11, art. 2. See J. T. Noonan, The Scholastic Analysis of
Usury (Cambridge, Mass., 1957), pp. 67–68.
19. A short list of works describing the mechanics of the “exchanges”
is given in note 98 to Chapter 1. Some of them also consider doctrine.
W. Endemann, Studien in der romanischkanonistischen Wirtschaftslehre
(Berlin, 1874–88), Vol. 1, pp. 168 et seq., remains indispensable, and R. de
Roover, in his L’Evolution de la lettre de change, provides a full bibliography
of the subject, as well as valuable summaries of the teaching of many medi-
eval and modern authors. In addition to the titles mentioned in note 98, the
following studies deal chiefly with the history of doctrine: Luciano dalle
Molle, Il contratto de cambio nei moralisti del secolo XIII all metà del secolo
XVII (Rome, 1954); Noonan, op. cit., pp. 175–92.
20. Hostiensis, Summa aurea, written about the middle of the thir-
teenth century (1st ed. Rome, 1470), numerous later editions. Hostiensis
devotes part of Lib. 5 to the exchanges. His doctrine is summarized by de
Roover, L’Evolution de la lettre de change, p. 187, and dalle Molle, op. cit.,
pp. 37–38.
21. Giles of Lessines, De usuris, in St. Thomas Aquinas, Opera omnia,
Vol. 17 (Parma, 1864). See Schreiber, op. cit., p. 164; and Noonan, op. cit.,
pp. 182–83.
22. Alexander Lombard, Tractatus de usuris (Vatican Library, MS Cod.
Lat. 1237), fols. 154–74. Written about 1237. A short summary is given by de
Roover, L’Evolution de la lettre de change, pp. 172–73. Alexander’s views on
exchange banking are also discussed by Noonan, op. cit., pp. 183–84.
23. Lorenzo Rodulfis, Tractatus de usuris et materiae montis (Pavia,
1490), 1st ed.; reprinted in Tractatus universi juris, Vol. 7.
24. St. Bernardino, op. cit., serm. 39, art. 3, cap. 2.
25. St. Antonino, op. cit., pt. 3, tit. 8, cap. 3.
26. Tommaso de Vio, Cardinal Cajetan, Commentarium in summam
theologicam S. Thomae Aquinatis, in St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologica
(Rome, 1882); De cambiis (Milan, 1499), 1st ed.; reprinted in Tractatus uni-
versi juris, Vol. 6, and reedited, together with Cajetan’s two other economic
treatises, by P. Zammit, under the title Scripta philosophica opuscula oeco-
nomicosocialia (Rome, 1934).
The School of Salamanca 127
27. Sylvester of Prierio, Summa summarum quae Silvestrina dicitur
(Bologna, 1514); numerous reeditions. The work is arranged in alphabeti-
cal order. The exchanges are discussed under the heading of “Usura IV”
(“Quo ad cambio”).
28. Notably Angelo of Chivasso, Summa angelica (Venice, 1511), title
“Usura.” Angelo’s doctrine is discussed by dalle Molle, op. cit., pp. 50–54,
and Noonan, op. cit., p. 318 (note).
29. The value of the Spanish contribution to the science of natural law
and to the law of nations was recognized as early as 1730 by H. Conring,
Opera (Brunswick, 1730), Vol. 4, p. 78. Among the many modern studies of
the subject, the following may be recommended: E. Nys, Le Droit des gens
et les anciens jurisconsultes espagnols (Brussels, 1914); J. B. Brown Scott, The
Spanish Origin of International Law and of Sanctions (Washington, 1934);
and Luciano Pereña Vicente, La Universidad de Salamanca, forja del pen-
samiento político español en el siglo XVI (Salamanca, 1954).
30. The merchants’ Report of 1532 and the Doctors’ Reply are printed
by J. A. Goris, Études sur les colonies marchandes méridionales à Anvers de
1488 à 1567 (Louvain, 1935), 2nd ed., pp. 510–45. An extract, translated into
English, is included in Grice-Hutchinson, op. cit., Appendix 1.
31. From the point of view of economic doctrine, Francisco de Vito-
ria’s most important work is his commentary on the Secunda secundae of
St. Thomas, included in the Biblioteca de Teólogos españoles, ed. V. Beltrán
de Heredia, Vols. 4–6 (Salamanca, 1934). The same three volumes appear
under the title of De Justitia in the series published by the Asociación
Francisco de Vitoria. The principal passages relating to value theory are
reprinted by D. Iparraguirre in his Francisco de Vitoria: una teoría social del
valor económico.
32. Domingo de Soto, Libri decem de justitia et jure (Salamanca, 1553);
numerous reeditions.
33. Martín de Azpilcueta Navarrus, Manual de Confesores y penitentes
(Coimbra, 1553). Three years later, in 1556, an edition was published at
Salamanca which includes the commentaries on usury and the exchanges
that interest us. Thereafter, the commentaries were included in most of the
numerous reeditions of the Manual (or Enchiridion, as it is called in some
editions), and in the Latin and Italian translations and abridgments that
continued to be published in many places throughout the sixteenth century
and earlier decades of the seventeenth.
128 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
A critical edition of the Commentary on the Exchanges is Martín de
Azpilcueta: Comentario resolutorio de cambios, ed. A. Ullastres, J. M. Pérez
Prendes, and Luciano Pereña, Vol. 4 of Corpus Hispanorum de Pace, pub-
lished by the Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas (Madrid, 1965).
English translation of short extract in Grice-Hutchinson, op. cit., pp. 89–96.
34. Juan de Medina, OFM, De poenitentiae, restitutione et contractibus
tractatus . . . de usura, de cambiis (Salamanca, 1550).
35. Cristóbal de Villalón, Provechoso tratado de cambios y contrataciones
de mercaderes y reprobación de usura (Seville, 1542), another edition at Valla-
dolid in the same year, and a third in Cordova, 1546. Reprinted in facsimile
at Valladolid, 1945.
36. Luís de Alcalá, OFM, Tractado de los préstamos que passan entre mer-
caderes y tractantes, y por consiguiente de los logros, cambios, compras adelan-
tadas, y ventas al fiado (Toledo, 1543; 2nd ed., 1546).
37. Luís Saravia de la Calle Veroñense, Instrucción de mercaderes muy
provechosa . . . cambios licitos y reprobados (Medina del Campo, 1544); Ital-
ian translation, Institutione de’ mercanti che tratta del comprare et vendere . . .
con un trattato de’ cambi, by Alfonso de Ulloa (Venice, 1561).
38. A. M. Venusti, Compendio utilissimo di quelle cose, le quali a nobili
e christiani mercanti appartengono (Milan, 1561). Contains five tracts, of
which the last two appear to be translations of Saravia’s treatise.
39. Diego de Covarrubias y Leyva, Variarum resolutionum ex jure pon-
tificio, regio, et caesareo Libri IV (1552–70). In Book 3 the author treats the
subject of usury. Covarrubias’s best-known work, Veterum numismatum
collatio (1550), is mainly numismatic in character but contains interesting
remarks on the debasement of the coinage and the alteration in the value of
money that had occurred in Spain.
40. Domingo de Bañez, Commentarium in 2.2. De Justitia et Jure (Sala-
manca, 1594).
41. Tomás de Mercado, Tratos y contratos de mercaderes (Salamanca, 1569).
42. Francisco García, OP, Tratado utilísimo de todos los contratos, quantos
en los negocios humanos se pueden ofrecer, 2 vols. (Valencia, 1583). English
translation of extracts in Grice-Hutchinson, op. cit., pp. 103–8.
43. Luís de Molina, SJ, De justitia et jure (Cuenca), 6 vols. The first two
volumes and the first half of the third were published in 1593, 1597, and
1600, respectively, the second part of the third volume in 1609, and the
The School of Salamanca 129
last three volumes at a later date. Numerous reeditions. English translation
of extract in Grice-Hutchinson, op. cit. The best general study of Molina’s
economic doctrine is Weber, Wirtschaftsethik am Vorabend des Liberalis-
mus. Molina’s doctrine of usury, together with that of Lessius and Lugo,
is studied by Dempsey, op. cit. (Washington, 1943). Dempsey’s book was
praised by J. A. Schumpeter (History of Economic Analysis, pp. 94–95) but
criticized by Noonan (op. cit., pp. 403–6), and the discussion was con-
tinued by F. Belda, “Etica de la creación de créditos según la doctrina de
Molina, Lesio y Lugo” and “Valoración de la doctrina de Molina Lesio y
Lugo sobre la creación de créditos,” Pensamiento, Vol. 19, 1963, pp. 53–92,
185–214.
44 . Miguel Salón, De Justitia in 2.2, S. Thomae tomi duo (Valencia,
1581).
45. Juan de Salas, Commentarii in secundum secundae D. Thomas (Lyons,
1617).
46. Francisco Suárez, Disputationes Metaphysicae, in Opera omnia (Paris,
1856–78), 25 vols.
47. Juan de Lugo, De justitia et jure (Lyons, 1642), 2 vols.
48. See Chapter 1, note 4.
49. I have said “value or price” because the Latin words valor and pre-
tium were used more or less indifferently by scholastic writers, and I do not
think we need try to draw any rigorous distinction between them.
50. See note 31.
51. Iparraguirre, Francisco de Vitoria, pp. 49–70.
52. Juan de Medina, Codex de Restitutione, cited by Sierra Bravo, op. cit.,
p. 177.
53. Luís Saravia de la Calle Veroñense, op. cit., p. 27, rev. An English ver-
sion of short extracts is included in Grice-Hutchinson, op. cit., pp. 79–82.
54. Diego de Covarrubias y Legra, Variarum ex pontificio regio, et cae-
sareo jure resolutionum libri IV (1554), Lib. 2, ch. 3.
55. Domingo de Soto, op. cit. English translation of short extracts in
Grice-Hutchinson, op. cit., pp. 83–88.
56. Francisco García, op. cit. English translation of short extracts in
Grice-Hutchinson, op. cit., pp. 103–8.
57. Bartolomé de Albornoz, Arte de los contratos (Valencia, 1573), p. 64.
58. Juan de Salas, op. cit., pp. 9, 11, 32–34, 357, 573b.
130 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
59. Juan de Lugo, op. cit., disp. 26, sec. 4, paras. 41–44.
60. Pedro de Valencia, Discurso sobre el precio del trigo (1605), in Pedro de
Valencia, Escritos Sociales, ed. C. Viñas Mey (Madrid, 1945).
61. Martín de Azpilcueta Navarrus, Comentario, resolutono de usuras,
p. 58.
62. Domingo de Soto, op. cit., Lib. 7, Q. 5, art. 2.
63. Ibid., Lib. 6, Q. 11, art. 1.
64. Martín de Azpilcueta Navarrus, op. cit., p. 84, English translation in
Grice-Hutchinson, op. cit., pp. 80–96.
65. Tomás de Mercado, op. cit., p. 94. See Grice-Hutchinson, op. cit.,
pp. 96–103 for English version of passages that contain the gist of Mercado’s
doctrine.
66. Tomás de Mercado, op. cit., pp. 92–93.
67. Domingo de Bañez, De justitia et jure (Salamanca, 1594), Q. 78;
De cambiis, art. 4.
68. Luís de Molina, op. cit., Vol. 2, dist. 406, notes 1–2.
69. Juan de Lugo, op. cit., dist. 26, sec. 4, paras. 41–44.
70. Jean Bodin, Réponse à M. de Malestroit, ed. H. Hauser (Paris, 1932),
pp. 9–10. John Hales, A Compendious or Briefe Examination of Certayne
Ordinary Complaints of Divers of our Countrymen (1581), 2nd ed. The first
edition, that of 1565, does not include the passage in question. A critical
edition, edited by E. Lamond, was published in 1893 under the title of A
Discourse of the Common Weal of this Realm of England.
71. Richard Carewe, Survey of Cornwall (London, 1603), p. 37 verso.
72. Earl J. Hamilton, American Treasure and the Price Revolution in
Spain (Cambridge, Mass., 1934), p. 301.
73. Pietro Catalano, SJ (1658–1732), Universi juris theologico-moralis cor-
pus (Venice, 1728).
74. Martino Bonacina (c. 1585–1631), Opera omnia (Lyons, 1646).
75. Antonino Diana (1585–1663), Summa diana (Venice, 1646).
76. Cardinal Giambattista de Luca (1613–83), Theatrum veritatis et justi-
tiae (Rome, 1669–81), Il dottor volgare (Rome, 1673).
77. Clemente Piselli (1650–1715), Theologiae moralis summa (Rome,
1710).
78. Barnardo Davanzati (1529–1606), Lezione delle Monete (lecture read
by the author before the Florentine Academy in May 1588 but not published
The School of Salamanca 131
until 1638), Notizia de’ cambi (1588). Both pamphlets are given in Custodi,
Scrittori Classici italiani di economia politica (Milan, 1804), parte antica,
Vol. 2.
79. Ferdinando Galiani (1728–87), Della Moneta (Naples, 1750), p. 28.
See Schumpeter, op. cit., pp. 300–302.
80. Cesare Bonesana, Marchese de Beccaria (1735–94), Elementi di
economía política, in Scrittori Classici italiani de economia politica (Milan,
1804), parte moderna, Vol. 12.
81. Among the more conservative authors we may include J. L. Le Seme-
lier (1660–1725), Conférences ecclésiastiques sur l’usure et la restitution (Paris,
1724), 4 vols.; and Antoine Godeau, Morale chrétienne pour l’instruction des
curés du diocèse de Vence (Lyons, 1710).
82. See Chapter 1, note 4.
83. E. B. de Condillac, Le Commerce et Le Gouvernement (Amsterdam,
1776), pp. 9–30; A. R. J. Turgot, “Valeurs et monnaies,” in Oeuvres (1808),
Vol. 3, pp. 256–93.
84. F. Quesnay, article “Hommes,” not included in the Encyclopedie,
but published by E. Bauer in Revue d’histoire des doctrines économiques
et sociales, No. 1, pp. 3–88, and reprinted in Francois Quesnay et la Physi-
ocratie, ed. Robert Debré (Paris, 1958), Vol. 2, pp. 511–73.
85. L. Lessius, De justitia et jure (Louvain, 1605).
86. Gordon, op. cit., pp. 244–71.
87. Hugo Grotius, De jure belli et pacis (1625) (English translation,
Oxford, 1925). Grotius’s debt to the Spanish jurists is discussed in the Intro-
duction to the English translation, pp. 13–14.
88. Grotius, op. cit., Bk. 2, ch. 12, para. 17.
89. Samuel von Pufendorf, Elementorum jurisprudentiae universalis
libri 2 (The Hague, 1660) (English translation, Oxford, 1931), Bk. 2, def.
10; De jure naturae et gentium (Lund, 1672) (English translation, Oxford,
1934), Bk. 5, ch. 1; De officio hominis et civis juxta legem naturalem (Lund,
1673) (English translation, Oxford, 1927), ch. 14.
90. J. Locke, Two Treatises Concerning Government (London, 1690),
Bk. 2, ch. 5, passim.
91. J. Locke, Some Considerations of the Consequences of the Lowering of
Interest and Raising the Value of Money (London, 1692), p. 65.
92. J. Locke, Some Considerations . . . , p. 62.
132 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
93. L. Mises, “Die Stellung des Geldes im Kreise der Wirtschaftlichen
Güter,” Wirtschaftstheorie der Gegenwart, Vol. 2, 1932, p. 310.
94. J. Law, Money and Trade Consider’d (1705), ch. 1.
95. F. Hutcheson, Introduction to Moral Philosophy (Glasgow, 1747),
pp. 209–10.
96. F. Hutcheson, System of Moral Philosophy, Vol. 2 (1755), p. 63.
97. A. Smith, Wealth of Nations, 1st ed. (1776). I have used the edition of
Edwin Cannan (1904), numerous reprints, Vol. 1, ch. 5.
4
The Political Economists
In the Middle Ages “economy” had simply meant the gov-
ernment of the household. But, if the term “political economy” was
not coined until 1615 (by Antoine de Montchrétien), the subject
itself was ancient. The oriental mirror books in which the prince was
offered counsel and the Christian treatises for which St. Thomas in his
De regimine principum set a pattern that was followed by many later
writers often discussed matters pertaining to national husbandry. By
the middle of the sixteenth century the art of government had come
to form a branch of what was loosely called “moral philosophy” to
distinguish it from the natural sciences that also belonged to “philoso-
phy.” The study of moral philosophy was at this period and for long
afterwards regarded as essential for a prince and his advisers.1
The branch of moral philosophy that dealt with the material
wealth of a kingdom may, in anticipation of Montchrétien and for
the sake of convenience, be called “political economy” from about
1550 onwards. Some scholars seek to draw a clear-cut distinction
between the earlier Spanish political economists and the late scho-
lastics who were their contemporaries. This, it seems to me, is labor
spent in vain. The political economists of the sixteenth, seventeenth,
and even early eighteenth centuries were mostly educated at the uni-
versities where the late scholastics taught, and some of them taught
there themselves. Sancho de Moncada, for instance, was professor
of Scripture at Toledo, having applied unsuccessfully for the chair
of moral philosophy. He was a scholastic by training and career. Yet
no one would think of denying him an important place among the
Spanish political economists.
While in Spain there was no ideological rift between the late scho-
lastics and the political economists, since all were Catholics as well as
patriots, the two groups of writers had different objects in view. The
133
134 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
main purpose of the scholastic Doctors was to ensure the salvation
of each man’s soul and to establish the reign of justice upon earth.
That of the political economists was to save Spain from the ruin that
threatened her. These aims were not incompatible.
In general, we may perhaps say that the scholastics point the
way to psychological subjectivism and equilibrium theory, and
the political economists to the theory of international trade and
of the balance of payments. The scholastics were primarily theo-
rists, though they never lost sight of facts. The political econo-
mists were, above all, fact-finders, though they took account of
theory. Men of both groups were the founders of economic sci-
ence in Spain, and they were no more at variance than the right
hand is from the left.
In the writings of the late scholastics we often find passages relat-
ing to problems of economic policy. Such discussions, removed from
their moral or legal framework, belong to the literature of econom-
ics. When Mariana, for example, in his treatise on the debasement of
the coinage, objects to debasement on the ground that such a mea-
sure is illegal, being not only against Spanish law but also against rea-
son and natural law, he is writing as a scholastic philosopher. When
he passes on to consider that all commodities will become dearer in
proportion to the fall in the value of money, that price control will
be useless because goods will no longer come onto the market, and
that, if debasement is persisted in, Spanish commerce will fall into
decay and the Crown itself be impoverished, he is writing as a politi-
cal economist.2
Again, in their discussions on taxation the Doctors’ chief concern
was with justice in the widest sense of the term. They were absorbed
in such problems as the right of the prince to impose taxation either
on his own subjects or on his conquered enemies, the purpose and
extent of his powers, and the duty of the people to obey him. In the
course of the argument the question sometimes arose as to which
taxes were beneficial and which harmful to Spain, and here too we
enter the field of economic policy and theory.3 It is unnecessary to
multiply examples. If in the course of this chapter I sometimes men-
tion a late scholastic author it should be understood that I am here
considering him in his role as a political economist.
The Political Economists 135
The converse is also true. We shall expect to find the political
economists echoing scholastic teaching, and we shall not be dis-
appointed. In our last chapter we noted the survival of scholastic
ideas on value in later economic literature. Here we need only say
that these and other scholastic doctrines are continually to be found
reproduced in the writings of the seventeenth- and eighteenth-
century economists.4
Agriculture
The decay, or perhaps I should rather say the stagnation, of
Castilian agriculture in the sixteenth century has received less
attention from historians than other branches of the economy.
The Political Economists 143
Yet the sorrows of the campo—the word means more, perhaps,
to the Spanish farmer than our own word “land” to his English
counterpart—played a decisive part in the larger tragedy of the eco-
nomic decadence of Spain.14
At the beginning of the sixteenth century agriculture was far from
flourishing. The Catholic kings had made some attempt to improve
matters but with only moderate success. They tended, also, to favor
sheep farming, on which the profitable wool trade depended, at the
expense of tillage.
The earlier decades of the sixteenth century brought a certain
prosperity to the countryside. American demand stimulated pro-
duction, especially in the south. On the other hand, the inclusion
of Castile in the Habsburg Empire may have prejudiced agriculture,
since in bad years it was always possible to import grain from other
parts of the imperial domain.
As the American colonies became self-sufficient, the demand
for Spanish products began to fall away. At some point not as yet
fully defined, the inflation outpaced the rise in the prices of farm
products, and the market price no longer covered costs. Nor was the
farmer, in theory at least, allowed to receive even this market price.
He was hampered by the tasa or fixed price imposed on grain and
other products and by a multitude of regulations that were intended
to ensure a cheap and plentiful supply of foodstuffs but which in fact
achieved little except to encourage fraud and the growth of a black
market.
Carande attributes the miserable condition of the greater part of
the Castilian countryside to the social structure, the distribution of
the land, the system of cultivation, the abuses of the larger landown-
ers, and other causes.15 To these adverse factors we may add the recur-
rent series of epidemics, droughts, and famines that were the scourge
of town and countryside alike.
The greatest of all the Spanish writers on agriculture has left
us a wonderful picture of the daily life of the farm in the early
sixteenth century. Gabriel Alonso de Herrera based his book
of husbandry on his long experience of farming in Talavera and
Granada and on his travels in Spain, France, and Italy.16 The
popularity of Herrera’s book only increased with time, and he
144 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
continued to be consulted, abroad as well as in Spain, until well
into the nineteenth century. But, though Schumpeter includes
the book in the literature that “contributed considerably to the
formation of some of the habits of thought that are most charac-
teristic of modern economics,”17 to consider it more fully would
be beyond the scope of this study.
Transport
The subject of transport had received attention long before it
came to trouble Ortiz. The first of various schemes to make the
River Guadalquivir navigable was read to the town council of Cor-
dova in 1524. The author, Fernán Pérez de Oliva, was a native of that
city who had studied philosophy at Salamanca and Alcalá and later
taught in Paris and Rome. On his return to Spain, Pérez de Oliva
became rector of the University of Salamanca, where he held the
chair of theology. He seems to have known a good deal about a wide
range of subjects, including grammar, rhetoric, geometry, archi-
tecture, and (so it was rumored) astrology. His chief merit as an
economist is that of distinguishing what was, in fact, one of the fun-
damental causes of the dearness of Spanish goods: the antiquated
transport system, which made it difficult to carry merchandise from
places where there was a glut to those where there was a dearth.18
Pérez de Oliva shows in lucid style how the high cost of transport
helped to keep up prices.
Poor Relief
The swarm of vagrants that had infested the roads of Spain in
the time of the emperor seems, if anything, to have grown even
bigger and more menacing in that of Philip II.29 Driven from place
to place, continually set back on the roads to resume their wander-
ings, the vagrants were a threat to town and countryside alike. The
authorities were impotent against this constant invasion, and the
convents where soup was distributed found their doors perpetually
besieged. Respectable citizens, aghast at the misery around them,
angrily accused the beggars of being impostors. And, certainly, the
ragged figures who sat all day gaming in the public squares seemed
anything but anxious to be offered honest work. Yet the numerous
writers who continued the discussion begun half a century before
by Vives, Soto, and Medina adopt a tolerant attitude toward the
beggars.
Among those who, toward the end of the sixteenth century, occu-
pied themselves with the problem of poor relief was a resident of
Lisbon, the canon Miguel de Giginta, author of various pamphlets
published between 1579 and 1587 in which he proposes a mild and
liberal policy.30 Giginta established in Lisbon a system of hostels in
The Political Economists 151
which the inmates were allowed to follow their normal pursuit of
begging (a profession that many of them had brought to a fine art)
as well as doing the work provided for them. The Cortes of 1575 and
of 1586–88 proposed the foundation of hostels in Spain to be run on
similar lines.
Cristóbal Pérez de Herrera, physician to the galleys, was the author
of numerous memorials that appeared between 1595 and 1617.31 Like
Martínez de Mata some years later, he seems to have been inspired
to write by the scenes of despair that he had witnessed during his
visits to the galleys. Pérez de Herrera wrote on many topics but is best
known for his work on poor relief. He was much concerned with
the perennial difficulty that besets the charitable: how to distinguish
between the genuine poor and the impostors and idlers. He urges the
foundation of hostels for the destitute, for children, for old soldiers
returned from the wars, and for women taken off the streets, with-
out requiring any regime of compulsory labor or in fact any kind of
discipline. He merely seeks to distinguish between the true and the
false poor and to ensure that licences to beg should be given only to
those in need.
Transport
Fernan Pérez de Oliva’s project, formulated in 1524, for opening
up the Guadalquivir to traffic between Seville and Cordova had
come to nothing. It was put forward again in 1585, a time when
several attempts were made to improve the Spanish waterways, but
was not carried out. More fortunate was a scheme evolved by Juan
Bautista Antonelli, the great Italian engineer, who came to Spain
in 1559. Antonelli drew up a plan for making the River Tagus navi-
gable up to Toledo. Philip II ordered Antonelli to carry out the
work, and, for some years at least, river traffic was actually possible
between Lisbon and Madrid. In 1581 Antonelli presented a plan
for improving other Spanish rivers and linking them by a system of
canals.32 Antonelli’s technical arguments do not concern us here.
Like Pérez de Oliva, he earns a place among political economists
by showing, with a judicious use of figures, how the cost of trans-
port was added onto the price of goods throughout the Spanish
provinces.
152 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
r ecession a n d decli n e (1600 –1700)
At the time of Philip II’s death Spain was still politically
great and powerful even though economically weakened. With the
turn of the century there began her decline to the rank of a second-
class power. Spanish hegemony could not be maintained on inad-
equate foundations. The adverse tendencies that we have noted in the
Castilian economy of the sixteenth century became even stronger in
the seventeenth. We need not insist on them further. Instead we will
take into account such features of the economy as were peculiar to
the seventeenth century.
Silver production in the New World was at its height in the decade
between 1591 and 1600. Silver remained plentiful until 1630; after
that date its production declined, at first gradually and later more
abruptly. Over the years between 1503 and 1660 the quantity of sil-
ver that arrived at Seville had been sufficient to triple the existing
European supplies, while gold stocks had been increased by a fifth.
We cannot, surely, doubt that this increase in the stock of gold and
silver did contribute toward the rise in prices that took place dur-
ing roughly the same period. Precisely how, and in what measure,
remains a matter for dispute.
Faced with the exhaustion of the royal exchequer, Philip II had
resorted to various expedients, including the bankruptcies of 1557,
1575, and 1598. But, except for making a few minor adjustments, he
had always refused to debase the currency.33 His successor, Philip III,
opened the gates to the copper inflation that characterized the seven-
teenth century and led up to the monetary chaos of the 1670s.
Gold and silver coins were not used for the small transactions of
daily life. For these there existed a coinage of copper and silver alloy
known as vellón. Between 1599 and 1606 large quantities of vellón
coins were minted, while at the same time their silver content was
abolished and their weight reduced by half. The Cortes of 1607 pro-
tested against the excessive minting of copper, but the Crown made
a considerable profit out of debasing the coinage, and minting was
resumed in 1617.
By 1628 the country was flooded with debased copper money.
Prices, together with the premium on silver, rose alarmingly, and
The Political Economists 153
the government was forced to reduce the sale of the copper coins
by half. But the effects of this measure were short-lived. The next
half-century saw an overall continuance of vellón inflation, broken
by spasmodic and unsuccessful efforts to deflate the coinage. The
continual fluctuations in the ratio between vellón and silver sowed
general mistrust and confusion. Everyone hastened to get rid of
their copper money by exchanging it for gold, silver, or goods of
lasting value.
The top of the vellón inflation came at an unfortunate moment
for Castile. The days of her political greatness were over, and her
golden age of art and literature had faded into the past. All was
disillusion, inertia, and ruin. The government made a last despair-
ing attempt at deflation. On 10 February 1680, the nominal value
of the vellón minted since 1660 was reduced by half. The immedi-
ate consequences were appalling. Prices plummeted, industry was
shaken, bankruptcies abounded, and, worst of tragedies, the royal
family had to forgo their annual visit to Aranjuez. Yet, once the
first shock had been absorbed, it was seen that Spain had not, after
all, been dealt her deathblow. On the contrary, she began at last
to show some semblance of life. By the end of the 1680s the mon-
etary situation was stabilized, and no more vellón was minted after
1693: the great copper inflation was over. There was no spectacular
recovery, but decay was arrested. Spain lifted her head again and
slowly, painfully, began the long pull back to a state of relative
prosperity.
The problems that troubled Spain throughout the seventeenth
century were not all of a political and economic character. Together
with the awareness of poverty and decay came a sense of spiritual
loss. Members of great empires are apt to see themselves as especially
favored by God and, when those empires fade away, are disconcerted
at being deserted by the Almighty. So it was with Spain in the time
of her decadence. “O judgement of God, by what ways does Our
Lord choose to punish our wretched Spain!” exclaims Sancho de
Moncada, for the fatalism inherent in Spanish society was shared
even by economists. The bewilderment was general, and it was harder
to bear even than poverty.
154 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
Economists and Projectors
It has been customary among historians of economic thought in
Spain to distinguish between the political economists proper and the
arbitristas or (to accept the term preferred by English translators)
“projectors.” The first group receives general approval; the second
remains under a cloud.
The figure of the projector has recently been made the subject of a
delightful study.34 The author traces the complex history of the word
arbitrio, which, by the end of the sixteenth century, had come to com-
bine the various meanings of “advice” or “opinion” and “measure” or
“expedient,” more especially a fiscal measure. The first notable use of
the word arbitrista, “one who proffers advice to the Crown,” occurs
in Cervantes’s short story, The Dogs’ Colloquy, which appeared in
1613. “I, sirs,” says a pauper lying in the hospital at Valladolid,
am a projector, and I have presented to His Majesty at different
times many and various projects, all for his good and harmless
to the Kingdom. And now I have written a memorial in which
I request him to appoint a person to whom I may communicate
a new project I have, which ensures the complete redemption
of his debts; but, judging by what has befallen me in the case
of other memorials, I expect this one, too, to end up in the
charnel-house.
The project turns out to suggest, with much solemn calculation,
that all Spaniards between the ages of 14 and 60 should be obliged
to observe a monthly fast day and to pay the money thus saved to
the king “without defrauding him of a single farthing.” The listeners
“all laughed at the project and the projector, and he, too, laughed at
his own nonsense; and I wondered at what I had heard and at see-
ing that, for the most part, men of this humour end by dying in the
workhouse.”
This passage sets the tone for later satire. As the seventeenth cen-
tury wore on and projects multiplied, so did the popular mistrust
of projectors—dare I call them “planners”?—turn to a lively detes-
tation. Novelists and dramatists portray the projector as an elderly,
dowdy, pretentious bore and busybody, at once a failure and a men-
ace. Above all, he is that stock figure of fun, an intellectual, so deeply
The Political Economists 155
absorbed in his frantic scribblings that he is capable of putting out his
own eye with a goose quill, almost without noticing the fact.
And yet, were all the projects that were put forward so very fool-
ish? González de Cellorigo, for instance, was undoubtedly a projec-
tor, yet he is universally admired as an excellent economist. And
there were others. Here, at least, no distinction will be made between
“political economists” and such “projectors” as dealt with economic
problems. All, wise and simple alike, shall here be dignified with the
name of political economist.
A certain number of writers set out to create systems or models
that covered several aspects of economic life, diagnosing many of the
ills that afflicted Spain and proposing remedies for them. Among the
better-known authors of such quasi-systems are Sancho de Moncada,
Pedro Fernández de Navarrete, Francisco Martínez de la Mata, and
Alvarez Osorio. Following upon their heels came the army of projec-
tors who dealt with single topics or with one or two topics only.
Space does not permit me to summarize the views of each writer
separately. In this section, therefore, I shall continue to follow the
plan, adopted earlier in this chapter, of grouping under various head-
ings the ideas of some of the leading seventeenth-century economists.
But first let us get to know a few of the writers themselves.
Martín González de Cellorigo was a Valladolid lawyer whose
Memorial was probably addressed to Philip III early in 1600.35 The
population of Valladolid had been declining for some years previ-
ously, and the process was hastened by an outbreak of plague in
1599. González de Cellorigo already speaks of the need to “restore”
Spain and to “redeem the kingdom from debt.” If there was any one
aim that united the seventeenth-century economists, it was that of
throwing off the burden of debt that was crushing the whole country.
González de Cellorigo was among the first to use the term desempeño
(empeño, pledge; desempeño, the redemption of a pledge) that was to
be the keyword of later economic literature.
Sancho de Moncada was Professor of Scripture at the University of
Toledo. He came of a Toledan merchant family of New Christian ori-
gin, many of whose members were churchmen. The ruin of Toledo,
a once thriving industrial town, touched him closely. Moncada’s Dis-
courses were probably presented to Philip III in 1618 and were printed
156 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
in the following year.36 The moment was one of crisis and confusion,
and there was a sense of danger in the air. “We see,” says Moncada,
the general hatred that all nations feel for the Spanish, and how in
Spain at every moment the means of defence are lacking—people,
money, arms, horses (for now they are all carriage-horses)—and
the people all spoilt and effeminate. So, as we know, have other
Kingdoms been ruined, and so will Spain be lost.
Furthermore, “the remedy calls for speed, for the threat to a man
bleeding to death increases with each hour that passes.”
Sancho de Moncada’s book is succinct and his style laconic. In
presenting his arguments he employs the dialectical method of the
schools. A rich apparatus of citations, which includes the names of
Covarrubias, Vitoria, Soto, and Azpilcueta Navarro, accompanies
the text. Moncada was also strongly influenced by the Italian writer
Giovanni Botero (1544–1617).
Moncada follows scholastic doctrine in attributing the rise in
Spanish prices to the influx of gold and silver from America—“the
abundance of silver and gold has caused a fall in their value . . . and
consequently a rise in the things that are bought with them”—but
thinks that the main reason for the poverty of Spain lies in the fact
that her commerce has fallen into the hands of foreigners. In his Dis-
courses Moncada outlines a strongly protectionist policy designed to
deliver Spain from their machinations.
Sancho de Moncada held that there was a science (ciencia) of gov-
ernment whose laws should be learned by every administrator. He
suggests that a chair of “politics” should be founded in all universi-
ties and that an entire university devoted to the arts of government
should be established in Madrid.
In his preface to Moncada’s book, Tomás Tamayo de Vargas approves
the idea of training future administrators to be “scientifically (científi-
camente) capable” of doing their work. Spanish talent, he adds, is not
inferior in “invention, profundity, and enlightenment (lucimiento)” to
that of foreign nations. In their plea for the creation of a professional
bureaucracy Moncada and Tamayo spoke in the accents of a later age.
Another celebrated political economist was Pedro Fernández de
Navarrete, a canon of Santiago de Compostela. He held the post of
The Political Economists 157
chaplain and secretary to Philip III and was a counsellor of the Inqui-
sition. His Political Discourses are written in the form of a commen-
tary on the Report on the condition of Spain that was drawn up by
the Council of Castile in 1620.37
A picturesque figure of the next generation is that of Francisco
Martínez de la Mata, whose “Memorials” were published in 1656.
Little is known of his life, except that he calls himself a “native of
Motril, brother of the Third Order of Penitence, and servant of the
afflicted poor,” and was probably, at some time, procurator to the
galleys. The Royal Academy of History possesses the report of a trial
that took place in Seville in 1660, in which Mata is accused of “going
through the city dressed in the robes of a tertiary of the Franciscan
Order, preaching his doctrines, converting the ignorant to his praises
and credit, and exhorting the guilds and councils to contribute
towards his expenses.” Declaiming his views “in a calm voice but with
lively gestures” and surrounded by a little company of disciples who
distributed circulars, plastered the walls with posters, and used all
the arts of propaganda to attract new recruits to the cause, he strove
to awaken the people to his own burning sense of their grievances.38
Count Campomanes, who reedited Mata’s writings together with
those of Alvarez Osorio in 1775, compares him with Sir Josias Child
and Sir William Petty, who, he says, “though less profound, had the
good fortune to be well received by their nation.”39 The comparison
with Petty, whose first treatise appeared in 1662, is particularly apt.
Like Petty, Mata bases many of his theories on statistics. Some of his
data he appears to have collected himself, but he more often relies
on the material assembled by an earlier writer, Damián de Olivares,
whose report on the Toledan silk industry, presented to Philip III in
1620, is often quoted by the political economists of the seventeenth
and eighteenth centuries.
We shall touch upon the lives and careers of other Spanish politi-
cal economists in the remaining pages of this chapter. It is time for
us now to turn more specifically to their writings. Much of their
energy went into the presentation of facts: Spanish economic history
has been largely built up on their findings. We shall leave aside this
aspect of their work, and turn to what they saw as “theory.” By this
they meant, in general, economic policy. However, in the course of
158 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
assembling data and suggesting policy they did sometimes formulate
pieces of analysis that were something beyond the mere common-
places of the popular mind.
Public Finance
The woes of Castile did not shake the faith of the people in the
institution of kingship or loosen the personal bond that had existed
between the monarch and his subjects since the Middle Ages.
Public finance was not the dry, abstract affair that it is today. Our
seventeenth-century economists still spoke of the “service of His Maj-
esty and the welfare of these Kingdoms,” the “redemption of the Royal
Revenues,” the “manner and form that must be observed in order to
162 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
redeem the debts and succor the needs of the King, the Kingdom,
and the nobles” and the “means of redeeming the Royal Treasury and
the fortunes of the vassals.”
True, the political economists often addressed their kings in grave
and haughty tones: “Most powerful, most high, and most excellent
Sir: Monarchs are but journeymen. You merit according to your
works,” admonishes Quevedo. And Alvarez Osorio asks: “Of what
did it avail Alexander to be lord of the world, if at the age of thirty-
three he died and was damned for ever? . . . Your Majesty is powerful
and can bestow greatness, but you cannot take or give a single hour of
life, and this I need in order to attain a place in Heaven.”
Yet despite their readiness to remind the king that he, like them-
selves, was subject to the decrees of a higher power, the loyalty and
sympathy felt by Spaniards for their monarch remained, through all
vicissitudes, unshaken.
The concept of the king as a “journeyman” implied that he was to
“look for the general good.” Above all, his was the task of defending
the Catholic faith and the kingdom from the attacks of their ene-
mies, and no one doubted that it was the duty of the “vassals” to help
him by providing him with funds sufficient for the purpose. The only
matter for argument was how this aim could be achieved.
The position of the royal exchequer—or, as we should say, the
public finances—was desperate. In 1610 the royal revenues are
thought to have amounted to 15,648,000 ducats, of which 8,508,500
were already mortgaged and 4 million owed to Genoese bankers.
The debts left by Charles V and Philip II amounted to another 3
million. Thus, if these figures are correct, the credit balance was nil.
The position had not improved by 1650. In that year we find the
President of the Council of Castile, after enumerating the twenty or
so taxes that made up the Castilian revenues, affirming that: “Your
Majesty has not a real free in any of them, for [on your accession
to the throne] you found them all sold and pledged, except for the
ordinary and extraordinary servicios, and those have been sold and
pledged in Your Majesty’s reign.”50
Still heavier taxation, fresh borrowing when this was possible,
and repeated debasement of the currency all were powerless to avert
bankruptcy. The people were as poor as their kings. The Cortes
The Political Economists 163
continually lamented the wretched state of the provinces and the
depopulation and decay of whole districts that had once included
the richest lands in Spain.
A great part of the Spanish economic literature of the seven-
teenth century is devoted to the subject of taxation. The unjust
distribution, geographical and personal, of the fiscal burden; the
discrepancy that was apparent between the high rate of taxation and
the low yield to the exchequer, caused chiefly by the heavy expenses
of tax collection and by fraud; and the pernicious effect on the
economy of certain specific taxes were the principal problems that
confronted the economists.
Of particular interest is a group of writers who (to quote Schumpe-
ter again) “looked upon a single tax as the wand by which to conjure
up the benign spirits of fiscal order.”51 The doctrine of the single tax
has been propounded in several countries and at different periods.
In France in 1707, Vauban was to put forward his famous project for
a general income tax, the dixme royale. Quesnay in 1760 wished to
rationalize the French fiscal system by basing it upon a tax on the net
rent of land. And the same idea was taken up in America by Henry
George in 1879. It is not to be expected that among the very numer-
ous Spanish economists of the seventeenth century none should
seek to cure their country’s ills by the same rather obvious pana-
cea. Schemes for a rough approximation to a personal income tax
were developed by Jacinto de Alcázar Arrizia in 164652 and Bautista
Dávila in 1651.53 Quesnay and George were preceded in their advo-
cacy of a single tax on land or on agricultural produce by Sancho de
Moncada (1619), who thought it right to “tax Nature, who is never
weary, and not human industry,” and who therefore proposed to
remove all taxes on industry and commerce and to tax grain instead,
raising its minimum fixed price proportionately; Alvarez Osorio
(1686), in whose work the tax takes the form of the mediodiezmo on
grain, wine, and meat; and Francisco Centani (1665), who proposed
to tax the land itself.
Of these variations on the theme of the single tax, Centani’s is the
most remarkable.54 His is the first clear exposition of the doctrine
that land is the only true source of wealth and the first rationally
constructed program for replacing the existing plethora of indirect
164 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
taxes by “a small charge or tribute to fall equally on those who hold
the lands that produce the native fruits by which these Kingdoms are
sustained and which constitute their physical and true wealth.” An
advantage of Centani’s plan was that it circumvented the exemption
from taxation enjoyed by the Church and the nobility since it took
account only of the productiveness of the land without regard to the
condition of the landowner.
Centani advises that a survey should be made of each district over
the whole of Spain, covering “commons, roads, rivers, and all else
that pertains to the district, distinguishing the quality and quantity
of arable land productive of annual fruits, vineyards, olive-groves,
orchards and pastures, and waste-land.” A quota based on the infor-
mation supplied would then be fixed for the district, whose authori-
ties would be held responsible for its collection. All this is well ahead
of its time, the chief stumbling block to the plan being the difficulty
of making the preliminary survey at a period when surveying meth-
ods were not yet sufficiently advanced.
In Centani, as in many of the best political economists of his age,
there is a vision of the economy as a whole made up of interrelated
parts—Mata speaks of a “general harmony”—which is absent in the
work of the scholastics. Thus Centani, in urging the claims of his sin-
gle tax, points out that besides being certain, just, and easy to collect,
the tax may be expected to bring down prices by freeing commodi-
ties from the sales tax and that this lowering of prices will, in turn,
enable the people to live better and work more efficiently and will
encourage home production and discourage imports. But all these
benefits, adds our author, can only be reaped if the Crown proceeds
to a reform of the currency and abandons debasement (which raises
prices and ultimately brings ruin) as a method of solving its financial
problems.
The Currency
In his condemnation of debasement Centani was faithful to a
tradition that went back to medieval times. The adulteration of the
vellón currency was attacked by many economists throughout the
seventeenth century. Between September 1605 and January 1606
twenty provinces reported on a plan for the contraction of the vellón
The Political Economists 165
circulation.55 In 1606 the city of Burgos petitioned the king to end
the minting of debased vellón. They advanced two main reasons for
the request: First,
although the law may determine and name the value and price
of money and require it to be received and used at that price, it
cannot give money a value that it does not itself possess, since
the estimation of men will not value money at more than its
intrinsic and essential worth is known to be.
And second,
all the silver and gold there is will surely leave these kingdoms
and be very soon consumed at the hands of merchants who
will collect and export it, however many safeguards and harsh
penalties may be imposed to prevent them from doing so. As
vellón money is worth nothing outside the Kingdom (being,
in particular, so reduced in value, tiresome to count, costly to
transport, and hindering to trade that all the merchants and
everyone else use in their dealings silver and gold money which is
valuable in all parts) it is certain that in a few years’ time the only
money left in Castile will be vellón, for the reasons just stated
and because the little silver that remains will be hidden away.56
These hoary but true ideas were expounded by numerous writers
of the period, of whom the ablest and best known, inside and outside
Spain, was Juan de Mariana. An unusual feature of Mariana’s life is
that nothing of his vast literary output appeared until he was in his
fifties and that he continued to write works of the first importance
into extreme old age, consistently expressing boldly radical views.57
Born in 1536, Mariana entered the Jesuit Order in 1554, going on to
teach in the Jesuit colleges of Rome and Sicily and at the University of
Paris, where his expositions of the writings of Aquinas attracted large
audiences. He returned to Spain in 1574 and settled down at Toledo
to a life of study. His history of Spain, which appeared between 1592
and 1605, is still read with pleasure by all who love good Spanish. In
his treatise on kingship and the institution of monarchy (1598) Mari-
ana expounds a theory of social contract, going so far as to allow the
right of tyrannicide.
166 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
On the subject of the currency Mariana sketches out the prin-
ciples that he was to develop more fully later on. Recapitulating the
scholastic doctrine that money has two values, its intrinsic or natural
value, which corresponds to the value of its metallic content, and its
extrinsic or legal value, which is fixed by the king, he adds that
Only a fool would try to separate these values in such a way
that the legal price should differ from the natural. Foolish, nay,
wicked the ruler who orders that a thing the common people
value, let us say, at five should be sold for ten. Men are guided in
this matter by common estimation founded on considerations
of the quality of things, and of their abundance or scarcity. It
would be vain for a Prince to seek to undermine these principles
of commerce. ’Tis best to leave them intact instead of assailing
them by force to the public detriment. What is done in the case
of other commodities should also be done with money. The
Prince should pass a law fixing its value, taking into account the
just price of the metal and its weight, without exceeding this
in any way, except that the expense and cost of minting may be
added.58
In his treatise on the vellón currency, published at Cologne in
1609, Mariana complains that the debasement of the copper coinage
violates these principles. Proceeding to develop this thesis on scho-
lastic lines, he first considers the advantages of debasement (a saving
in silver, a reduction in the weight of the vellón coins, the discourage-
ment of the export of vellón, a reduction in imports and consequent
retention of silver in Spain, and the temporary relief of the royal
finances), next demolishes certain arguments commonly advanced
against debasement, and finally brings forward his own more solid
reasons for not adulterating the vellón coinage. These are:
1. that the coinage of large quantities of vellón is illegal;
2. that debasement is contrary to natural law;
3. that prices are bound to rise as money is debased.
Agriculture
At the beginning of the seventeenth century Spanish agriculture,
already languishing, suffered various disasters that combined to
bring about its complete prostration. A series of bad harvests had
been followed by the plague of 1599–1600 with its heavy mortality,
an acute labor shortage, and a rise in prices and wages. The struggle
to raise some wheat and barley or to gather a small crop of olives or
The Political Economists 171
grapes on the dry land, to grow fruit and vegetables on the small area
of watered land (estimated at less than 1 percent of the whole), and
to keep animals, migrant or settled, on the scanty pasture available
had become a losing battle. The drift to the towns increased, and the
villages were left deserted. The final blow was dealt by the expulsion
of the Moriscos in 1609–14.
The Moriscos were former Moslems who were forced to accept
baptism in 1502 in Castile and in 1525 in Aragon. They were the élite
of the farming community, skilled in the intricate technique of work-
ing the irrigated land that lay along the eastern and southern sea-
boards. A writer speaks of “the solicitude and care with which, all
perseverance and industry, they broke the hillsides, ploughing and
cultivating the land until at last they gathered its fruits, without need
of begging.”69 A few Moriscos were allowed to remain behind in
order to maintain the houses, sugar factories, rice fields, and watered
areas and to instruct the untrained colonists who were brought to
replace those who had been expelled.
There may, perhaps, have been some justification for the expul-
sion on religious and political grounds, but its economic effects
were bound to be prejudicial. Probably some 3 percent of the whole
population of Spain were expelled, the numbers varying greatly from
region to region. Valencia was the area most badly hit: no less than
23 percent of the inhabitants were expelled. The consequent decay of
the Valencian countryside made it impossible for the owners of farms
to repay the loans in which much urban capital was invested, and
the whole economy suffered from this remarkably ill-timed measure.
The political economists differ as to the merits of the expulsion.
Few of them condemn it entirely. Thus, Sancho de Moncada, though
he fully shares the mercantilist fear of depopulation,70 declares that
the Moriscos, as enemies of Spain, “were the cause of many deaths,”
and that their expulsion therefore actually helped to increase the
Spanish population.71
Martínez de la Mata also dissents from the view that the expulsion
was a mistake and thinks that any harm that may have been done
could be countermanded by forbidding the import of foreign mer-
chandise.72 Caja de Leruela is more sympathetically disposed toward
the Moriscos and seems to regret their departure.73 Fernández de
172 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
Navarrete goes further. In one of the four Discourses that he devotes
to the subject of depopulation he writes:
I hold it as certain that if in the first instance some means had
been found of not marking the Moriscos with a note of infamy
they would all have been reconciled to the Catholic faith. If they
conceived a hatred and horror for that religion, it was because
as Catholics, they were downtrodden and despised, and had no
hope of being able, in course of time, to blot out the shame of
their low birth.74
Besides suffering from a shortage of labor the seventeenth-century
farmer, like his medieval forebears and his modern successors, was
vexed by the continuance of the tasa de trigo, or fixed maximum price
on corn, imposed to protect the interests of the consumer with-
out regard to those of the producer. The doctrine that the prince
had the right and duty of controlling prices had been questioned by
few, if any, scholastic authors and was not seriously to be attacked
until about the middle of the eighteenth century. But many of the
seventeenth-century political economists recognized the hardship
that the tasa imposed on farmers and the difficulty of trying to fix
prices for the long term in a world of constantly changing values.
Lope de Deza brings out this point well. If, he says,
fruits and the other things we use were to observe regularity
and keep to the same unvarying course, it would be easy to
govern and to impose upon them a perpetual tasa suited to their
nature. . . . But as . . . everything is subject to such great and
continuous changes, and fertility is followed by barrenness, and
barrenness by an average crop, . . . and sometimes people will
give their jewels for a loaf, and their most precious possessions
for a jug of water, and at other times they will pay only a very
low price for many loaves, and water is spilled and despised, it
cannot be just to fix a stable and perpetual price on things that
are subject to change and to such great alteration.75
In other words, the tasa should be frequently revised and averaged
in such a way that farmers may set off the bad years against the
good.
The Political Economists 173
A more fundamental problem that occupied many of the Spanish
economists was that of the distribution and administration of the
land itself. González de Cellorigo (1600) believes that no one ought
to hold land if he cannot cultivate it personally. The rich, he says, do
not choose to farm their estates, and the poor cannot do so properly
for lack of capital. González wishes to see a more equal distribution
of wealth without, perhaps, being very clear as to how this is to be
achieved.76
The distinguished Cordovan humanist, Pedro de Valencia, writing
in 1605, expresses profound disquiet at the decline of Spanish agri-
culture. He urges that all cultivable land should be brought under the
plough, allocated to a particular use, and divided into medium-sized
lots that could be leased at a moderate rent to the local peasants. The
land would be redistributed each year, reserving sufficient pasturage
to maintain the flocks.77
Miguel Caja de Leruela, himself an official of the Mesta or associa-
tion of cattle owners, ascribes the ruin of Spain to the decline of stock
farming, especially among the smaller farmers. He recommends the
conservation and extension of pasturage and wishes to see each peas-
ant supplied with the animals necessary for his support.78
Several other authors drew up schemes on what would now be
regarded as socialistic lines. Costa tentatively speaks of a Spanish
school of collectivist economics,79 and certainly this preoccupation
with land reform and with agriculture in general is a notable feature
of Spanish mercantilist literature.
Jerónimo de Uztáriz
So far as economic literature is concerned, there is no well-defined
boundary dividing mercantilism from physiocracy or economic lib-
eralism. In the second half of the eighteenth century many writers
still held mercantilist views on certain aspects of the economy, while
they repudiated them on others. However, for the practical purposes
of this study we may tentatively regard the age of mercantilism as
having closed in Spain around 1740, the year of publication of Ber-
nardo de Ulloa’s treatise.88 The most important writer of this earlier
period of Bourbon rule was Jerónimo de Uztáriz.
Uztáriz was born in 1670 and came of an ancient Navarrese family.
At the age of 16 he went to Flanders and, after receiving his military
training at the Royal Academy in Brussels, served with distinction in
several campaigns. In 1698 he was attached to the service of the Mar-
quis of Bedmar who appointed him as First Secretary to the military
government of Flanders, and in 1705 when Bedmar became Viceroy
of Sicily, Uztáriz accompanied him to Palermo as Secretary of State
and of War.
While still a young man Uztáriz travelled extensively in Holland,
France, England, Germany, and Italy, acquiring the firsthand knowl-
edge of the commerce of the principal countries of Europe which
established his reputation as an expert in economic affairs.
Uztáriz received various marks of favor from Philip V and in 1707
returned to Spain, a warm supporter of the new dynasty, to occupy
posts in the Ministries of War and of Marine and on the Council of
180 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
Finance. In 1730 he was appointed Minister of the Board of Trade
and the Mint, in which capacity he carried out important reforms.
He was also secretary to the Council and Chamber of the Indies, a
member of the king’s Privy Council, and a knight of the Order of
Santiago. He died in Madrid in 1732.
Uztáriz’s first contribution to economic literature was his “Appro-
bation” of the Spanish translation of a work on Dutch commerce
by Huet.89 Uztáriz shows how Louis XIV, guided by Colbert, had
succeeded in reviving French industry, shipping, and commerce and
suggests that Spain might profitably adopt the same policy.
Uztáriz’s best-known work, The Theory and Practice of Commerce,
was first published in 1724 and seems to have circulated privately.90
During the last years of his life Uztáriz improved and corrected his
treatise. He intended to add an extensive supplement which was to
include an account of “the grand policy of the English in allowing
and encouraging the export of grain,” a measure, he thought, that
would “raise great astonishment almost everywhere for the novelty
of the thing, and its contradiction to what seems prudent at first
sight.” Unfortunately he died before he was able to complete his
work.
In 1740 Bernardo de Ulloa summarized Uztáriz’s ideas in his own
treatise, frankly acknowledging his debt to Uztáriz and enlarging on
certain points that the latter had not fully treated. At last, in 1742,
Uztáriz’s son published a second edition of his father’s treatise. This,
unlike the first, was widely read. The book was translated into En-
glish in 1751 and supplied Adam Smith with some of the material on
Spain that he uses in the Wealth of Nations. A French translation by
Forbonnais appeared in 1753 and an Italian in 1793. A third Spanish
edition was published in 1757.
The Theory and Practice of Commerce was the most accurate
and solidly documented handbook of its day. Until quite recently
Uztáriz’s estimate of the population and revenues of Spain and of
the quantity of precious metals shipped from the New World were
accepted without question and reproduced by writers in many coun-
tries. The merit of the work resides chiefly in the vast mass of factual
information it presents rather than in its doctrinal content, which is
sound but in no way original.
The Political Economists 181
Of all the Spanish political economists of the age of mercantilism,
Uztáriz most closely resembled the stock figure of a “mercantilist.”
Early in his treatise he quotes Huet’s dictum that
Commerce is the only thing which can draw gold and silver,
the main springs of action, into any state. And it is so glaring a
truth that Spain, in whose dominions these are found in plenty,
is in great want of both, from their having slighted traffick and
manufactures, and all the mines of America are scarce sufficient
to pay for the merchandise and commodities which other
nations carry to Spain.91
Uztáriz proceeds to develop systematically the theory of the balance
of trade that had been sketched by Ortiz nearly two centuries before
and adopted by Moncada, Navarrete, Lisón, Mata, Osorio, and other
seventeenth-century political economists.
Uztáriz divides commerce into two classes, the “profitable”
and the “injurious” (he also uses the terms “active” and “passive”)
according to whether it produces a favorable or unfavorable bal-
ance of payments and consequent inflow or outflow of gold and
silver. A favorable balance was for Uztáriz the key to national
prosperity:
. . . we ought to labour with great zeal and address in all those
measures that can avail towards selling more commodities and
fruits to foreigners than we buy of them, for here lies all the
secret, good conduct, and advantage of trade; or at least, that we
be on a par in the barter of commodities, which might even be
sufficient for the constitution of this kingdom.92
An unfavorable balance will bring about disaster,
for it is an infallible maxim, that the more our importation of
foreign merchandise shall exceed the exportation of our own, so
much more unavoidable will be our misery and ruin at last, and
the damages such a traffick usually brings upon a whole kingdom
are even greater than the most devouring locusts.
National prosperity, then, was bound up with the accumulation
of gold and silver, to the attainment of which object the greater
182 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
part of Uztáriz’s treatise is devoted. Our author shows in detail
how the methods of Colbert—the freeing of internal commerce
from the multifarious tolls and taxes by which it was hampered,
the encouragement of home manufactures and their protection
from foreign competition, the import of raw materials duty-free,
the prohibition of the export of raw materials used in the national
factories, and other protectionist measures—might be adapted to
Spanish conditions.
As always when we are considering mercantilist literature, we are
constrained to wonder whether treasure was thought of as an end
in itself or as a means to national prosperity. Did Uztáriz want pro-
duction in order to attract treasure or treasure in order to develop
production? Light is thrown on this problem in several passages, of
which the following is a fair sample:
. . . the more our manufactories are enlarged and flourish, so much
easier and happier will be the circumstances even of the peasants,
and the nation in general; for as more money will circulate in
the kingdom, merchandise and fruits bear a higher value, and
will be more consumed; both of them will come to a ready and
constant market, our lands will be better cultivated, and yield
more; payments be duly and regularly made; in short, the whole
political body in this full health and vigour will impart to every
member constant supplies of life and spirits. . . .93
This insistence upon the beneficial effects of a plentiful cir-
culation of wealth, characteristic of mercantilism in general, was
especially strong among the Spanish economists. The fact that the
royal revenues were largely drawn from indirect taxes, of which the
most obvious and inescapable was the alcabala payable on almost
all goods sold or bartered, early drew their attention to the need for
maintaining a fluent stream of trade. As an example of their often
quite elaborate attempts to examine the mechanism of the circula-
tion of money, we have already considered the work of Martínez
de la Mata.
Uztáriz shared the mercantilist desire for a large population and
cites the care shown for the welfare of the common people by Vau-
ban, whose Dixme Royale he praises warmly. In some passages he
The Political Economists 183
describes the hardships of the poor in the cool, matter-of-fact tone
of the true mercantilist.
One of the principal steps towards the increase and preservation
of commerce is having the kingdom well supplied with working
hands, both for the manufactures of silk and wool, and other
trades, and for the cultivation of land, which administer plenty,
and this has a great influence upon the price of goods.94
In others he is more sympathetic, citing Vauban’s dictum that “The
grandeur of a prince is in proportion to the number of his sub-
jects” and that “he should never agree to have the common peo-
ple slighted or oppressed, since it is their labour, commerce, and
tribute that enriches a king and his kingdom.”95 And on one occa-
sion he surprises and endears himself to us by painting an almost
Dickensian picture of a starving family living on bread and water
without shelter, bedding, or medical aid, whose mother, struggling
against constant fatigue and depression, sees her children dying
before her eyes.96
But such sentimental flights are rare. Toward religion Uztáriz was
businesslike. Anxious to deprive the English of the profits derived
from their cod fisheries, he hopes that, in place of the numerous fast
days customary in Spain, the Holy Father will allow
another species of abstinence and restraint, that equally
administers to the mortification of our souls, and does not turn
out so much to the advantage of the rivals of the crown, and
the catholick church, as these fast-days do, by opening a way for
the importation and consumption of English salt fish, which is
a main branch of their commerce and the foundation of their
riches and strength.97
Here, indeed, we have travelled far from Ortiz’s invocation of saints
and angels, and from the religious fervor of Osorio.
Uztáriz, like other mercantilists, wished to free internal commerce
from the legislative restraints that hindered its expansion. He also
tentatively suggests that in years of good harvests the export of grain
might be allowed in order to prevent its price from falling so low
that farmers would be discouraged from sowing grain for the next
184 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
year. He was, too, in sympathy with the spirit of later theory in his
mistrust of all laws that ran counter to the natural course of trade:
It is evident that penal laws and statutes cannot prevent the
extraction of gold and silver, though they be severe as in this
kingdom, and extend to forfeiture of life and effects. With so
great rigour is the prohibition enforced here, and yet it neither is
nor can be observed in Spain, or in any other kingdom under the
same circumstances, as the experience of whole ages manifests.98
And again:
If in seven or eight ages we have not been able to enforce the
execution by such severe laws often repeated and revived, we
ought not to expect to see it done in our times, except it be by
substituting other, more natural, effectual and secure measures,
such as have been proposed by a good regulation of commerce,
in order to sell foreigners more than we buy of them; and not
by penal laws, prohibitions, and guards at the ports and other
places.99
Such practical considerations were among the elements in mercan-
tilist thought that, in Spain as elsewhere, paved the way for liberal
economics.
It is clear that as late as 1753 Uztáriz’s brand of mercantilism
appeared topical and acceptable to his French translator, Forbon-
nais, who recommends a “noble emulation” of Uztáriz’s precepts,
adding that “we have so few books on commerce in our language
that I have regarded the details given in this one as most useful for the
instruction of those who wish to study this great subject.” The long-
continued interest evoked by Uztáriz’s treatise may serve to remind
us that mercantilism, of which Forbonnais was at that time the lead-
ing French exponent, flourished in France for some years side by side
with physiocracy, and that the older ideas, though partly discarded,
did not completely fade away until the end of the eighteenth century.
It was, perhaps, Uztáriz’s cosmopolitan training and the ample
space he devotes to considering the economic policies of England,
France, and Holland that made his work especially acceptable to his
foreign contemporaries. Together with Ulloa, he is better known
The Political Economists 185
abroad than any other Spanish economist, with the possible excep-
tion of Mariana. He was not an analytical economist. As he himself
tells us, he was a practical man, uninterested in “speculative ques-
tions.” But he was a diligent collector of facts, a great systematizer,
and a lucid stylist. It would be ungracious to complain that what we
miss in his work is the peculiarly Spanish blend of other-worldliness
and robust common sense that gives its special flavor to earlier eco-
nomic literature.
Bernardo de Ulloa
Ulloa was born in Seville and represented that city in the Cortes.
His admiration for Uztáriz, whose treatise was known to few read-
ers until the publication of the second edition in 1742, led him to
expound many of the views of the Navarrese economist in his own
book, which appeared in 1740.100
In the first part of this work Ulloa discusses the reasons for the
decay of Spanish industry and puts forward suggestions for its revival.
Like Uztáriz, he advocates the reform of the tax system, more espe-
cially of the indirect taxes that weighed upon manufactured articles.
He also follows Uztáriz in wishing to open up the home market by
abolishing the multitude of tolls and taxes that impeded commerce
between the different regions of Spain and to improve the roads and
waterways whose bad condition caused prices to vary greatly from
place to place.
In the second part of this treatise Ulloa turns to foreign trade. He
stresses the need for a strong navy and a large population, advocates
the protection of Spanish industry by suitable reform of the customs
and excise duties, and wishes to see a more general use made of Span-
ish shipping in the conduct of foreign trade. He devotes great atten-
tion to the decline of commerce between Spain and America and
deplores the Treaty of Utrecht (1713), by which England secured a
monopoly of the slave trade and the right to send each year a ship
of 500 tons laden with merchandise to the Indies. Ulloa hesitates
to recommend a more liberal policy toward the establishment of
industries in the colonies on the ground that home manufactures
might suffer thereby, but suggests measures for improving the colo-
nial agriculture.
186 Early Economic Thought in Spain, 1177–1740
In short, Ulloa’s main preoccupations were to turn the balance
of trade in favor of Spain by means of a protectionist policy, and to
direct the American economy in a way that would best promote the
interests of the metropolis.
Miguel de Zavala
In 1732, the year of Uztáriz’s death, there appeared a work that
may be said to have opened a transitional period of preparation for
the acceptance of physiocracy and laissez-faire.101 Miguel de Zavala
addressed to the king a memorial that is divided into three parts.
In the first of these the author condemns the alcabala and other
indirect taxes on lines that were by now traditional and suggests
their replacement by a “royal contribution” of the kind proposed
by Vauban.
In the second part of the memorial Zavala attacks the tasa or
fixed price of grain on the ground that if prices were allowed to rise
freely farmers would grow more grain and merchants bring it from
places where prices were lower. Shortages would thus be automati-
cally corrected. On the other hand, if the tasa is lower than the price
of grain would be on a free market, farmers will cut down produc-
tion and holders of grain hoard it away, with the result that grain
will not be cheaper but even scarcer than it would be if the tasa
were abolished. In this part of his work Zavala anticipates some of
the physiocratic ideas that were to prevail in France between 1757
and 1776.
The third part of the memorial is devoted to commerce, a topic
the author treats on the usual mercantilist lines.