he is required to pay directly out of his pocket is the only taxation which he is quite sure that he pays at all. That a tax of two shillings per pound on tea, or of three shillings per bottle on wine, raises the price of each pound of tea and bottle of wine which he consumes, by that and more than that amount, can not, indeed, be denied; it is the fact, and is intended to be so, and he himself, at times, is perfectly aware of it; but it makes hardly any impression on his practical feelings and associations, serving to illustrate the distinction between what is merely known to be true and what is felt to be so. The unpopularity of direct taxation, contrasted with the easy manner in which the public consent to let themselves be fleeced in the prices of commodities, has generated in many friends of improvement a directly opposite mode of thinking to the foregoing. They contend that the very reason which makes direct taxation disagreeable makes it preferable. Under it every one knows how much he really pays; and, if he votes for a war, or any other expensive national luxury, he does so with his eyes open to what it costs him. If all taxes were direct, taxation would be much more perceived than at present, and there would be a security, which now there is not, for economy in the public expenditure.
Although this argument is not without force, its weight is likely to be constantly diminishing. The real incidence of indirect taxation is every day more generally understood and more familiarly recognized. The mere distinction between paying money directly to the tax-collector and contributing the same sum through the intervention of the tea-dealer or the wine-merchant no longer makes the whole difference between dislike or opposition and passive acquiescence.
If our present revenue [of $400,000,000 in 1883] were all raised by direct taxes, an