be expected to approach near to an equality. And therefore, if the inferior lands, or those last taken into cultivation in America, possessed twice the productive power of those last taken into cultivation in England, it might be supposed that agricultural industry in the former would be about twice as productive as in the latter, and that the power which each country possesses of increasing that portion of its capital which consists of food, and other farm produce, would be in about that proportion.

It is found, however, that theoretical conclusions of this sort are much modified in practice. Agricultural science may be equal, or nearly equal, in two countries, and yet their agriculture may be widely different. Scientific knowledge, which is generally confined to a few, and the application of that knowledge by the parties engaged in any great department of industry, are totally different things. The former may be in a very advanced state, while the latter is in its infancy. And such is the case with agricultural science and practice in the United States. The theory of agriculture is there highly advanced, while, speaking generally, the art is imperfect in the extreme. This is a consequence of the facility enjoyed by the Americans of acquiring new land, and of its being more advantageous to cultivate it in the cheapest manner, than to apply improved processes to the old lands. Hence it is that extensive tracts of the latter, after having been cultivated for a while, have been abandoned; and that, except in a few peculiarly favoured districts, the crops are not nearly so heavy as might have been anticipated. This state of things will, of course, change with the changing circumstances of the country. As it becomes more difficult to obtain supplies of new land, a better and more careful system of tillage will be applied to the old land.

Still, however, there can be no doubt that, partly from the farmers being the owners of the land which they cultivate, partly from their not being obliged to resort to inferior soils, and partly from their exemption from tithes, and the smaller amount of their burdens, industry is de

cidedly more productive in countries like the United States, and generally in those that are newly settled, than in those that have been long occupied by a comparatively dense population. But in America, as elsewhere, the best lands will, in the long run, be exhausted; and whenever this is the case, increased supplies of food can only be had by resorting to such as are less fertile. This decreasing fertility of the soil may, as we have just seen, be countervailed, or more than countervailed, by improvements in agriculture and the arts. But whether this be so or not, were population as dense, and tillage as far extended over secondary lands, in the United States as in England, the probability is, that industry would be no better rewarded there than here, and that the progress of both countries in wealth and population would not be very different.

The free importation of corn and other articles of food does not materially affect the previous statements. Prices in a country which habitually imports a portion of its supplies, must be higher than in those from which she imports; and she is thus laid under the same sort of disadvantage, compared with them, as if she cultivated soils of a less degree of fertility. But the freedom of the corn trade gives a security against this disadvantage ever becoming very considerable; while it, at the same time, affords the best attainable security against the recurrence of those periods of scarcity and high prices which are always productive of great public inconvenience and distress.

But while the power of all countries to feed additional inhabitants is thus progressively diminished, through the diminished fertility of the soils which they must successively bring under cultivation, the power possessed by their inhabitants of adding to their numbers, undergoes no sensible change. The principle, or instinct, which impels man to propagate his species, has appeared in all ages and countries so nearly the same, that it may, in the language of mathematicians, be considered as a constant quantity. However

rapidly the means of subsistence have occasionally been increasing, population has seldom failed to keep pace with them. Those who inquire into the past and present state of the world, will find that the population of all countries is generally accommodated to their means of subsistence. Whenever these have been increased, population has also been increased, or been better provided for; and when they have been diminished, the population has either been worse provided for, or has sustained a diminution of numbers, or both effects have followed.

We have seen that the population of the United States of America doubles itself in so short a period as twenty or fiveand-twenty years. And if the supplies of food and other articles required for the support of the people were to continue to increase as fast as they have done, population would most likely continue to advance in the same proportion for a lengthened period; or, it might be, until the space required to carry on the operations of industry had become deficient. But the principle of increase is quite as strong in Yorkshire or Normandy as it is in Kentucky or Illinois, and yet it is plainly impossible that the population of England or France can be doubled in so short a period. Owing to the greater outlay upon the soils we are now cultivating, and the greater weight of our tithes, poor-rates, and other taxes, the quantity of produce to be divided between the undertakers of work in Great Britain and their labourers is less, compared with their numbers, than in America, and both parties have in consequence a less power of providing for the wants of a family. A number of children is not here, as in the United States or Australia, a source of wealth. On the contrary, their maintenance occasions an expense, which the poor man, unless he be at once frugal and industrious, can with difficulty meet. The habits of the people have been moulded accordingly. There is a general feeling that it would be imprudent to enter into matrimonial connections without having something like a reasonable prospect of being able to maintain the children that may be expected to spring from them. And marriages are,

in consequence, very generally deferred to a later period than in America, and a greater proportion of the population find it expedient to pass their lives in a state of celibacy. And it is fortunate that this is the case; that the good sense of the people, and their laudable desire to preserve their place in society, make them control their passions, and subject them to prudential considerations. Man cannot possibly increase beyond the means provided for his support. And were the tendency of population to increase in countries advanced in the career of civilization, and where there is, consequently, a considerably increased difficulty of providing supplies of food, not checked by the prevalence of moral restraint, or the forethought of the people, it would be checked by the prevalence of want, misery, and famine. There is no alternative. The population of every country has the power, supposing food to be adequately supplied, to go on doubling every five-andtwenty years. But as the limited extent, and limited fertility of the soil, render it impossible to go on producing food in this ratio, it necessarily follows, unless the passions are moderated, and a proportional check given to the increase of population, that the standard of human subsistence will be reduced to the lowest assignable limit, and that famine and pestilence will be perpetually at work to relieve the population of wretches born only to be starved.

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Mr Malthus was probably the first who conclusively showed that, speaking generally, the tendency of population is not merely to keep abreast with the increase of the means of subsistence, but to exceed it; and the grand object of his Essay on the Principle of Population," is to point out the bad effects of a redundant population, the importance of moral restraint, and the pernicious consequences resulting from the bringing of human beings into the world without being able to provide for their subsistence and education. Now, instead of this doctrine being, as has been often stated, unfavourable to human happiness, it would appear that a material change for the better

would be effected in the condition of society, were its justice generally felt and acknowledged, and a vigorous effort made to give it a practical bearing and real influence. It is evident, on the least reflection, that poverty is the source of the greater portion of the ills which afflict humanity; and there can be no reasonable doubt, that a too rapid increase of population, by occasioning a redundant supply of labour, an excessive competition for employment, and low wages, is the most efficient cause of poverty. It is now too late to contend that a crowded population is a sure symptom of national prosperity. The population of the United States is much less dense than that of Ireland; but will any one say that they are less flourishing and happy? The truth is, that the prosperity of a nation depends much less on the number of its inhabitants than on their industry and intelligence, and their command over necessaries and conveniences. The earth affords room only, with the existing means of production, for a certain number of human beings to be trained to any degree of perfection. And it has been truly said, that "every real philanthropist would rather witness the existence of a thousand such beings, than that of a million of millions of creatures, pressing against the limits of subsistence, burdensome to themselves, and contemptible to each other." Wherever the number of labourers continues to increase more rapidly than the fund which has to support and employ them, their wages are gradually reduced till they reach the lowest possible limit. When placed under such unfortunate circumstances, they are entirely cut off from all expectation of rising in the world, or of improving their condition. Their exertions are neither inspired by hope nor by ambition. Unable to save, or to acquire a stake in society, they have no inducement to make any unusual exertions. In consequence, they become indolent and dispirited; and, if not pressed by hunger, would be always idle.

It is thus apparent that the ratio which the progress of capital bears to the progress of population, is the pivot on which the comfort and well-being of the great bulk of society