motive, so pure in its exercise, so beneficial both to the donor and receiver, so free from all objections in point of policy to which a compulsory system is exposed, might be found adequate to the relief of all real and inevitable calamity; and the existence of legal provisions for the support of the poor is therefore without defence, upon the principles of true philosophy. But the questions about the original formation of such establishments, and their continuance when once formed, and interwoven with a vicious system of public morals, are quite distinct. It by no means follows that we are bound instantly to destroy whatever we should have refused, in the first instance, to construct. A tenderness to human suffering often exacts of philosophy great deference even to the most impolitic and barbarous institutions. It is strange, that amid the acknowledged and intolerable evils of the poor laws, which have now excited one universal murmur of condolence and despair, so few should be disposed to recognise the true source of the calamity in the opposition of the principle of policy on which these laws are founded, to the immutable ordinances of nature that so many intelligent persons should yet stubbornly look to the detail of regulation, instead of turning their eyes to the great and palpable vice of the entire system: that the insanity of that law, which assumes the unlimited abundance of the materials of labour and the means of subsistence, in the midst of the most cogent and touching evidence of their deficiency, should yet be disputed and that the man who has vigorously and fearlessly unmasked the fatal delusion, should be rewarded with unsparing insolence, and branded as the enemy of his species. It is not the object of Mr Malthus at once to sweep away the poor laws, and to abandon the floating mass of wretchedness which they have created to unpitied destruction; but he has pointed out the true source of the overwhelming calamity; he has cleared the great principle of all such establishments from the mist of prejudice in which it has been immemorially involved; he has shown, not with what unsparing havoc a pretended reformation ought to be accomplished, but in what direction all practicable improvements ought to be attempted. With a just and

philosophical rigour, he has deprived the ordinary tamperers with the most delicate subjects of domestic administration of their childish plausibilities for concealing the truth from a misguided public; he has developed the true source and fatal magnitude of the evil, and prepared the way for an efficient remedy, which philosophy may indeed prescribe, but time alone can accomplish. This is all that, in such perplexed problems, science can do for humanity.

Intimately connected with the theory of population is the question of the corn laws, which has long divided the most able and enlightened political economists. This momentous discussion has hitherto been conducted too much on the ground of minute and trifling details, and without that steady regard to general principles, which alone can lead to a satisfactory solution of the difficult problem.

The increase of population in any community becomes, in the present circumstances of Europe, independent of the supply of food afforded by the improved agriculture of that particular state; the demands of commerce for labour, with the facility of a foreign supply of grain, might, but for legislative interference, create the most appaling disproportions. The agriculture of a civilized state cannot, for obvious reasons, sustain a fair competition in the general market with that of semi-barbarous nations; it will therefore, in the natural course of events, be neglected, and the population must, of course, become dependent on foreign states for subsistence. Such is the inevitable course of that state of society in which we live, unless arrested by the interposition of the laws; the same impulse of resistless competition-the same pressure of severe discouragement, which have annihilated the once thriving manufactures, and swept away the commerce of flourishing states, will extinguish also that manufacture of food, which, like all others, thrives only by encouragement and reward. It is true indeed, that a fatal crisis has never yet arrived to any state so as to leave its fields desolate in the abandonment of its agriculture; for the rapid and unequal growth of commerce and manufactures, which can alone hasten such a catastrophe, is comparatively recent in the history of the world; and the calamity of agricultural deso

lation has been averted by the operation of private interests, demanding and receiving the protection of the laws, interests which, however selfish in their origin, have in this, as in many other cases, wrought in strict subservience to the public prosperity. But even this constant and powerful instinct has not saved England from occasional and severe agricultural derangements, which, in many possible combinations of European policy, might have left her without resources to propitiate a starving population, and avert the horrors of insurrection. Those who have studied the science of political economy, not merely in its metaphysical details, but in its higher moral bearings, know that the mere accumulation of wealth, although an important, is not the exclusive object of its researches; that there are cases in which its most imperative maxims of a class, strictly economical, must be subordinated to the demands of a higher and more interesting policy; and that where national honour, tranquillity, or security is concerned, the most legitimate theory for the mere increase of wealth must, without scruple, be surrendered. It was thus that the legislature interposed by means of the navigation laws; and by circumscribing its shipping market to the commerce of England, made a sacrifice of profit to security and strength, which has commanded the gratitude of England, and the applauding envy of mankind. The principle of that entire freedom which distinguishes the liberal commercial policy of modern times is indeed sacred in every case which falls within its legitimate application-in every case where the question is singly about the accumulation of wealth, and where the sure sagacity of private interest will triumph over the presumptuous empiricism of legislation,-in every case where those objects alone are at stake, which address themselves to the unerring instinct of that private cupidity from which alone the principle derives its application and its force; but it is weak and unphilosophical to appeal to this maxim for the solution of cases which involve higher elements than the principle itself is intended to embrace, and which can be resolved only by a wider range of comparison, and larger and higher views of policy. The question is not, whether corn may be bought cheaper under

an unrestricted freedom of trade than with the incumbrance of corn laws? or, whether an enhancement of the price of grain does not operate on the price of labour, the state of manufactures, and the course of foreign trade? no man who understands even the elements of political economy can hesitate for a moment as to any of these propositions. But the important matters truly at issue are-whether, under the visible preponderance of manufacturing and commercial enterprise in a state which is excluded by opulence, by taxation, by the accumulated pressure of natural and artificial burdens, from all agricultural competition with the frugal poverty of other nations, agriculture will not inevitably decline, and a fatal disproportion be created betwixt the population and the produce of that particular state? Whether this disproportion will not, unless the legislature interfere, naturally increase till a state of dependence be created not less artificial than formidable? And whether it be not the office of a high and presiding policy to interpose before the mischief of the system be consummated? and by the steady sacrifice of some portion of wealth, and amid the temporary struggles of a vivacious, and already luxuriant, commerce, restore the great and salutary proportions of nature, which never intended that the population of a mighty empire should repose for subsistence on the precarious fertility, or still more precarious policy, of neighbouring states, to whom she stands jealously opposed by the very tenure of her greatness.

Such is a specimen of the important applications of which the theory of population is susceptible-a theory which indeed affects, more or less, almost every great question of domestic policy. Those who calumniate the philosophy which they do not understand, have many expedients, indeed, to provide for any excess of population. They propose the cultivation of waste lands; they hold out the cheering prospect of emigration; they cannot believe that the world is not large enough to afford, in some corner, an asylum for human folly. Can such reasoners forget, that the additional cultivation, which is profitable, will surely be attempted? and that the fact of its not having been hitherto undertaken, affords conclusive evidence, that hitherto it would▾

have been beneficial-that the same argument applies to the toils, the perils, the repulsive uncertainties of emigration-that if either enterprise would repay the danger and toil which it demands, it would undoubtedly be hazarded-and if it would not, that the inevitable failure of the experiment just presents one shape of that misery in which a redundant population is extinguished, and which it is the object of every enlightened friend of humanity to avert. The precarious resources of waste lands, and Transatlantic wilds are to be explored, not as affording an outlet to any excess of population which may be created, or an invitation to the imprudence which calls it into existence; but an ample field to enterprise and labour which, when crowned with success, will assuredly find a progeny to participate in the fruits. The order of nature and the voice of wisdom demanded that the creation of that abundance, which can alone avert misery in all its forms, should precede the existence of the population which is to consume it. The theory of population has been misrepresented as repugnant to the best feelings, and finest impulses of our nature-propitious to the schemes of despotism-and insulting to the dignity of the species.

Is that philosophy then at variance with the dearest and noblest of the passions, which would guard its virtuous gratifications from the pangs of embittering remorse the countless ills of hopeless and fatal poverty? The enlightened moralist and statesman, far from discountenancing the pure and virtuous union of the sexes, is ambitious to provide for the dignity and stability of the endearing attachmentto avert from the most sacred retreat of mortal felicity, the canker of care and sorrow, before which enjoyment withers away, and the ardour of passion slowly but surely expires. It is the fatal prerogative of human folly to levy war upon the bounty of nature, and perversely to extract from the richest blessings of Providence, the elements of the bitterest calamity. What so pure and ennobling as the passion of love in its virtuous form?what so frightful and degrading in its excesses and aberrations? Improvidence and its inevitable effects extreme and irremediable poverty-have been more fatal to connubial enjoyment than those comparatively rare

irregularities of passion which spring out of a distempered constitution, and betray a diseased imagination. The philosopher who lifts his voice against this calamitous improvidence, and who wishes to give their natural plenitude and endurance to the pure delights of virtuous passion, by exacting performance of the condition upon which alone nature has promised her indispensible sanction, is not the peevish and sullen enemy of enjoyment, but the steady and enlightened friend of humanity.

Nor is it less absurd to represent this important philosophical lesson as being favourable to the progress of despotism. We are taught indeed, by the theory of population, that society has other dangers to provide against than those which spring out of political institutions, and when we consider what temptations to jealous tyranny the vehemence of indiscriminate and groundless complaint presents-and reflect on the fatal and ignominious career which has been run by the masters of modern revolution, who first discovered the source of all human evils in the existence, and their remedy in the unsparing destruction of all established institutions, we ought to hail the doctrine which affords a manageable and efficient check upon their extravagant presumption, as a powerful instrument, not of despotism but of liberty. The just theory of population, which exacts of governments the arduous duty of extending the public resources, and exalting the national prosperity, instead of the cheap and vulgar function of adding indefinitely to the numbers of an unprovided, and of course, a profligate, populationwhich, instead of ministering to the crooked ambition of power, by the formidable aid of a needy and desperate gang, opposes to its projects the might and the wisdom of an independent, virtuous, and enlightened community; which provides for the tranquillity of the state, by ensuring the comfort of the people, and for the perpetuity of genuine freedom, by averting those frightful commotions, of which the craft of demagogues and despots has in all ages known so well how to profit; and finally, which addresses a perpetual and impressive remonstrance to the temerity of statesmen, who, amid the profound revolutions which their measures often produce, have not even a glance of the actual suffering which

they create, and of that futurity of wo which they unconsciously decree; such a strain of philosophy, while it enlarges and exalts the duties of rulers, confirms the independence, and watches over the happiness of the governed, cannot be the ally of despotism, nor the enemy of man.

OBSERVATIONS ON THE CRITIQUE OF GOETHE'S LIFE IN THE EDINBURGH REVIEW.

GREAT and merited as is the fame of those mighty masters who have, in our days, revived the power and glory of the poetry of England, deep as is the possession which they have taken of the minds of their contemporaries, and eternal as their sway must be over all that shall ever speak their language, it is evident that the same destiny which made them to come later, has made them to be less than their predecessors. They are the children of an illustrious race, but they are not the peers of those who founded its splendour. One of themselves has modestly and beautifully expressed the truth, that they are but the gleaners of fields,

"Where happier bards of yore had richer

harvests found."

There are services which can only once be rendered to the literature of any country, because only once can they be needed; and these are repaid with honours which are for ever by themselves, because the only men who might have any hope of equalling them would deem it no less than sacrilege to brook the suspicion of such rivalry. They are themselves the devoutest worshippers of those whose inspiration has descended to them; and they confess their own inferiority, not with willingness merely, but with pride. The excellencies which all admire are best comprehended by these kindred spirits, and excellencies which others see not are revealed to them. While vulgar eyes contemplate afar off and dimly, it is their privilege to approach the shrine, and see the glory in its brightness. In their intellects, and in their hearts, the Majesty of the departed finds its best interpreters, and its securest throne.

Without pretending to say that the

genius of Goethe is equal to that of Milton or Shakspeare, it is certain that his fame in Germany is, and always must be, of the same sort with theirs in England. Klopstock was a majestic spirit, and Wieland a happy one; but the affectations with which they were both, although in very different ways, chargeable, prevented either of them from taking such a hold of the minds of his countrymen as is requisite for him that would be a national poet,much more for him that would aspire to be the founder of the poetry of a nation. Arising in a country wherein education had long been universal, and thought profound, and fancy active,-and in an age wherein many imperfect attempts had been made towards establishing in that country such a literature as she was entitled to possess,-it was the fortune of Goethe to acquire, while yet a boy, an ascendancy over the intellect and imagination of his country, such as no other of its writers ever had obtained; and he has conferred upon her literature, in his maturer years, services which must perpetuate this possession, so long as the language which he has fixed and ennobled shall continue to be that of a cultivated and energetic nation. For many centuries Europe has witnessed no living reputation acquired by literature alone, which could sustain the slightest comparison with that enjoyed by Goethe. A period of fifty years has now elapsed since he first became an author; and during the whole of that long career, his fame has been perpetually and uniformly on the increase. With the skill which was requisite for creating and establishing the poetical language of a great but a divided nation, he has united such a richness of thought and fancy, that each of his great works has become, as it were, the model of a new species,-that his spirit has been all along the fountain from which his contemporaries have derived not only their rules, but their materials. Seated above competition, and fearless of failure, he has directed and swayed the minds of two generations, as if by the charm of a magician. The reve rence of half a century has now gathered in all its fulness around the old age of Goethe. The whole of his mighty nation are at one in honouring their poet. His fame forms one of the few centre points around which all

Germans rally-one of the few sacred possessions wherein they recognise the symbols of their brotherhood.

At the age of seventy, this man, possessing, indeed, no longer the impetuous fire which shone forth in Werter, Egmont, Goetz, and Faustus, but still indefatigable in his pursuits, vivid in his recollections, and powerful in his eloquence, began, at the request of his friends and disciples, to compose the history of his life. The present was received by his countrymen, not with indulgence, for of that there was no need, but with gratefulness. Knowing and feeling as they do the greatness of his genius, it was no wonder that they should listen without weariness to the history of a mind from which there had sprung so many wonders. The more minute the details, the more close the descriptions, it was the better for their purpose; for no details, and no descriptions, could be without their use, which might tend to record the gradual developement of faculties and ideas to which they owed so much. Scenes which had suggested the first hints of those masterpieces which they worshipped, however trifling in themselves, were to them most interesting scenes. The enthusiasm with which he recalled his boyish delight in the chivalrous antiquities of the Rhine and the Maine, excited no sentiments of derision in those who could appreciate the services done to the spirit of Germany by the Goetz of Berlichingen. The history of his own early passion was read, although half sportively narrated, with other feelings than those of merriment, by them who had so often been melted by his tales of humble love. The narrative of his early studies at Leipsig was received as the best commentary on that unequalled portrait of the wisdom, the weakness, the superstition, and the infidelity of man, which he has embodied in his Faustus. The incidents of his wanderings in Italy and in Germany-the memorials of the enthusiasm with which, in his youth, he contemplated every thing that was great and glorious in nature and in art-were precious in the eyes of those who knew with what unrivalled felicity he had transported himself into ages and countries that bear no resemblance to each other, who remembered that the Tasso, and the Iphigenia, and the

Achilleis, and Reineke Fuchs and Goetz, and Faustus, were the works of the same hand. Let us imagine with what delight we should ourselves peruse an easy and copious biography of any one of our own great departed worthies, or, if the time were come, with what gratitude we should read a minute story of the mode in which the spirit of Scott or Byron had been shaped and fashioned,—and we shall have no difficulty in comprehending the nature of that universal feeling with which the Germans received the Life of Goethe.

It is probable that the ingenious editor of the Edinburgh Review is himself quite ignorant of German literature, otherwise he would have taken care that his journal should not have been totally silent in regard to by far the greater part of all the excellent and original works which have been published in Europe since the commencement of his labours. But the fame of Goethe is not confined to his own country, or to those that read its language; nor is it easy to conceive upon what theory of propriety in regard to literary criticism, a person of learning and genius could proceed, when he permitted the life of such a man as Goethe to be travestied in his pages by one whose youth, however young he may be, can furnish but a sorry excuse for the empty arrogance and very offensive irreverence of his production. The knowledge which this unfledged Aristarchus possesses of the German language might have been applied to better purposes. It argues some very singular malformation within, when we perceive a man converting what might be to him the key of knowledge and wisdom, into the instrument of a wanton levity, alike disgraceful to his heart and to his head. It argues, to say the least of it, a very culpable negligence on the part of Mr Jeffrey, that, for the sake of gratifying with a few paltry jokes the ignorant and malicious dullness of some of his readers at home, he should run even the remotest risk of wounding the feelings of a good, a great, and an old man, whose name will be reverenced by the world many hundred years after all the reviewers that ever insulted his genius shall be forgotten.

The disgrace which the Edinburgh Review incurred in the estimation of all the scholars in Europe, by its attack