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CONTENTS OF No. CII.
Page. ART. I. The Law of Population : a Treatise in Six Books, in
Disproof of the Superfecundity of Human Beings,
II. The Life of Richard Bentley, D.D. Master of Trinity
College, and Regius Professor of Divinity in the
III. The History of Rome, by B. G. Niebuhr. Translated
by Julius Charles Hare, M.A., and Connop Thirl-
IV. Memoir of the Life and Public Services of Sir Stam
ford Raffles, F.R.S., particularly in the Government
V. Recherches sur le Commerce de la Hollande, .
VI. Women as they Are; or, the Manners of the Day, 444
VII. The First Book of the Iliad ; .the Parting of Hector
and Andromache ; and the Shield of Achilles ; Spe-
ART. VIII. Abstract of the Bill for Establishing Courts of Local
Jurisdiction. Ordered by the House of Commons
IX. Memoirs, Correspondence, and Private Papers of Tho
mas Jefferson, late President of the United States;
X. Library of C'seful Knowledge. Farmer's Series. Trea-
XI. Researches into the Origin and Affinity of the Principal
Languages of Asia and Europe. By Lieutenant-
XII. The Country without a Government; or, Plain Ques
tions upon the Unhappy State of the Present Admi-
Notice respecting Mr Brougham's Speech in the House of Commons, on the 13th July, on Colonial Slavery,
cruel system, really does press against the level of the means of • subsistence, and still elevating that level, it continues thus
to urge society through advancing stages, till at length the * strong and resistless hand of necessity presses the secret spring • of human prosperity, and the portals of Providence fly open, 6 and disclose to the enraptured gaze the promised land of con6 tented and rewarded labour.'— These are specimens, taken at random, of Mr Sadler's eloquence. We could easily multiply them; but our readers, we fear, are already inclined to cry for mercy.
Much blank verse and much rhyme is also scattered through these volumes, sometimes rightly quoted, sometimes wrongly, sometimes good, sometimes insufferable,- sometimes taken from Shakspeare, and sometimes, for aught we know, Mr Sadler's own. Let man,' cries the philosopher, take heed how he
rashly violates his trust;' and thereupon he breaks forth into singing as follows:
• What myriads wait in destiny's dark womb,
Rolls to its Ocean fount, and rests in God.' If these lines are not Mr Sadler's, we heartily beg his pardon for our suspicion—a suspicion which, we acknowledge, ought not to be lightly entertained of any human being. We can only say, that we never met with them before, and that we do not much care how long it may be before we meet with them, or with any others like them, again.
The spirit of this work is as bad as its style. We never met with a book which so strongly indicated that the writer was in a good humour with himself, and in a bad humour with every body else ;-which contained so much of that kind of reproach which is vulgarly said to be no slander, and of that kind of praise which is vulgarly said to be no commendation. Mr Malthus is attacked in language which it would be scarcely decent to employ respecting Titus Oates. Atrocious,' execrable, blasphemous, and other epithets of the same kind, are poured forth against that able, excellent, and honourable man, with a profusion which in the early part of the work excites indignation; but, after the first hundred pages, produces mere weariness and nausea. In the preface, Mr Sadler excuses himself on the plea of haste. Two-thirds of his book, he tells us, were written in a few months. If any terms have escaped him which can be construed into personal disrespect, he shall deeply regret that he had not more time to revise them. We must inform him that the tone of his book required a very different apology; and that a quarter of a year, though it is a short time for a man to be engaged in writing a book, is a very long time for a man to be in a passion.
The imputation of being in a passion Mr Sadler will not disclaim. His is a theme, he tells us, on which it were impious
to be calm ;' and he boasts that instead of conforming to the candour of the present age, he has imitated the honesty of pre• ceding ones, in expressing himself with the utmost plainness
and freedom throughout.' If Mr Sadler really wishes that the controversy about his new principle of population should be carried on with all the license of the seventeenth century, we can have no personal objections. We are quite as little afraid of a contest in which quarter shall be neither given nor taken as he can be. But we would advise him seriously to consider, before he publishes the promised continuation of his work, whether he be not one of that class of writers who stand peculiarly in need of the candour which he insults, and who would have most to fear from that unsparing severity which he practises and recommends.
There is only one excuse for the extreme acrimony with which this book is written, and that excuse is but a bad one. Mr Sadler imagines that the theory of Mr Malthus is inconsistent with Christianity, and even with the purer forms of Deism. Now even had this been the case, a greater degree of mildness and self-command than Mr Sadler has shown would have been becoming in a writer who had undertaken to defend the religion of charity. But in fact, the imputation which has been thrown on Mr Malthus and his followers, is so absurd as scarcely to deserve an answer. As it appears, however, in almost every page of Mr Sadler's book, we will say a few words respecting it.
Mr Sadler describes Mr Malthus's principle in the following words:
* It pronounces that there exists an evil in the principle of population; an evil, not accidental, but inherent; not of occasional occurrence, but in perpetual operation; not light, transient, or mitigated, but productive of miseries, compared with which all those inflicted by human institutions, that is to say, by the weakness and wickedness of man, however instigated, are “ light :” an evil, finally, for which there is no remedy save one, which had been long overlooked, and which is now enunciated in terms which evince any thing rather than confidence. It is a principle, moreover, preeminently bold, as well as “ clear.” With a presumption, to call it by no