ich Mr. Malthus anticipates for the
human species when it shall have reached its numerical maximum. But in
_degree_ the evil may then be much less--even upon Mr. Malthus's own
showing: for he does not fix any limit to the increase of moral
restraint, but only denies that it will ever become absolute and
universal. When the principle of population therefore has done its
worst, we may be suffering the same kind of evil--but, in proportion
to an indefinitely _in_creasing moral restraint, an indefinitely
_de_creasing degree of that evil: _i. e._ we may continually
approximate to the ideal of perfection: _i. e._ if the second sense
of perfection be Mr. Godwin's sense, then Mr. Malthus has not
overthrown Mr. Godwin.

X. Y. Z.

* * * * *

The following admirable letter[30] seems to refer to the observations
on Kant, contained in the Opium Eater's Letters. Perhaps that acute
logician may be able to discover its meaning: or if not, he may think
it worth preserving as an illustration of Shakspeare's profound
knowledge of character displayed in Ancient Pistol.

[Footnote 30: This is attached by the Editor of _The London
Magazine_.--H.]

* * * * *

Can Neptune sleep?--Is Willich dead?--Him who wielded the trident of
Albion! Is it thus you trample on the ashes of my friend? All the
dreadful energies of thought--all the sophistry of fiction and the
triumphs of the human intellect are waving o'er his peaceful grave.
'He understood not Kant.' Peace then to the harmless invincible. I
have long been thinking of presenting the world with a Metaphysical
Dictionary--of elucidating Locke's romance.--I await with impatience
Kant in English. Give me that! Your letter has awakened me to a sense
of your merits. Beware of squabbles; I know the literary infirmities
of man. Scott rammed his nose against mortals--he grasped at death for
fame to chaunt the victory.

THINE.

How is the Opium Eater?

THE SERVICES OF MR. RICARDO TO THE SCIENCE OF POLITICAL ECONOMY,
BRIEFLY AND PLAINLY STATED.[31]

(_March, 1824._)

I do not remember that any public event of our own times has touched
me so nearly, or so much with the feelings belonging to a private
affliction, as the death of Mr. Ricardo. To me in some sense it _was_
a private affliction--and no doubt to all others who knew and honoured
his extraordinary talents. For great intellectual merit, wherever it
has been stead