MEMOIR
OF
ROBERT MALTHUS.
It is matter of general observation that the lives of literary men, especially of the good and virtuous, are rarely fruitful in that class of incidents which are wont to be most attractive in the public eye. With the minds of such persons, however, it may be far otherwise: of these the march is often varied and eventful; and to describe faithfully their state and condition at the different stages of their being, the steps by which they have advanced, the helps and hindrances they have experienced, and the influences which have most contributed to form or to fix their character, would be a task not less interesting than instructive; but the misfortune is that it is one which can only be performed adequately by the subject himself, and, as great merit is usually accompanied with great modesty, they who are best qualified to execute the office, are generally the least disposed to undertake it. In neither of these respects can Mr. Malthus be considered as an exception: the tenor of his life was one of the most even serene and peaceful that can be well imagined; and such was his diffidence and habitual disregard of self, that he has left nothing upon record intended directly as a memorial of his life, and little else which can be made subservient to such a purpose by others. But this reserve, so becoming
