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Maps, piatae, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure ere filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames aa required. The following diagrams iliustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc.. peuvent Atre fiimAa A des taux de r6duction diff6rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Atre raproduit en un seul clichA. il est film* A partir de Tangle supArieur gauche, de geuche A droite, et de haut en baa. en prenant la nombre d'imagea nAcaaaaira. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent le mAthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 <^»%-J i T '' ARGUMENTS AGAINST EMIGRATION. S9^ f^»fj * i 4i FEW PRACTICAL ARGUMENTS AOAINST THE THEORY OF EMIGRATION, By captain F. B. HEAD. ,,^^^^;_, LONDON: JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE-STREET. MDCCCXXVIII. tONnONi Printed by William Clowxi, Stamford-ttreet. \ 'J- ft. i '■-i r A FEW PRACTICAL ARGUMENTS, # That Emigration would afford an easy, natural, and effectual remedy for an overplus of popula- tion was, for a long time, a statement much too agreeable and convenient to be denied. ; and, accordingly, on its foundation a beautiful theory has been erected, which was to give us for ever as much elbow-room as we could desire : how- ever, when its minute arrangements were all com- pleted, just as the speculation, like the vessel itself, was ready to sail, with its topsails loose, and its blue-peter flying, public opinion, the breeze which was to waft it from our shores, suddenly died away — a dead calm has ensued, and the sails are now flapping. During this momentary and unex- pected pause, we * have resolved, before it is • * The affectation of writing in the first person plural, and the general tone of this pamphlet, need some explanation : the best which the writer can offer — is the truth. He had wished to have offered his arguments anonymously, and he 8 I too late^ to attempt a short solution of the im- portant problem which, we may truly say, should now occupy the attention of the civilised world : for however hastily theory may have settled the subject of emigration, practice as yet has been silent on the subject; and we have still to le i what is to be the consequence of the evil that we fear — what is to be the effect of the remedy we propose. The question, when reduced to its simplest fonn, is. What is to become of our future popu- lation ? And at once it is evident, that to give a decided answer to this question is not within the power of man : for the future is the * undis- covered country* which is beyond his reach ; but as by twilight we see our path, although the sun is actually below the horizon, so towards futu- rity may we sometimes grope our way, by the light which is borrowed, or reflected upon it, from the present and the past. '■ ' To be enabled, therefore, to judge, or rather to guess at what is to become of our future po- pulation, it is necessary that we should first con- accordingly wrote them as an Article for a Review ; but the impossibility of preserving his incognito, and other reasons, have suddenly induced him to avov^ a publication, the general style of which it is now too late to correct. si :..•,,, 3 V sider what the effect of its increase hitherto has been, and this can only be done by shortly recalling to our minds the history of man (as far as regards the increase of his race) in the dif- ferent ages of his civilization ; but it has justly been observed, that the early history of every country is involved in obscurity and fable, and we should therefore wilfully run into error if we were to trust to the guidance of old histories and traditions, on which there is so little reliance : however, this is fortunately unnecessary ; for in many parts of the New World man is still to be seen in his earliest state, a living evidence or example of the truths we require. » . That this short sketch, with which it is pro- posed to commence the inquiry, must be trite and uninteresting, is too evident ; yet it is only by an extended view of the question that we can hope to discover its general principles, or to rise above the narrow interests and local prejudices which have hitherto obscured it. Having traced the effects of a gradual increase of population, from the rudest state of society, to our present point of civilization, we will then endeavour to consider. To what extent population is likely to increase : what is eventually to check it ; and whether emigration will or will not relieve it. B 2 I M 1 1 Perhaps the most simple, careless state in which man is to be found, is among the Llancros of Columbia, or the Indians of the Pampas. In either of these countries he is still to be seen naked and on horseback. The house in which he dwells is the region over which he gallops — the pillow on which he sleeps is the dust from which he sprung, and to which he is doomed to return — ^the lantern which guides his path is the greater light which rules the day, or the lesser light which rules the night — food is the sport rathe than the toil of his life, and although his manhood neither knows the civilised blessings of intellectual society, nor his old age the comfort and consolation of religion, yet, blessed with health, and with little thought or reflection, he lives in a sort of perpetual infancy, careless of the morrow as the wild animals which roam about him. In this state of society the wear and tear of life is very great. An unrestrained intercourse calls many into the world, but passions equally ungoverned drive many out of it. However, food is in abundance, and neither house nor raiment is I jquired. What the balance of this account may be, or in what proportion, under such circum- stances, population may increase or diminish, it. is not the present object to inquire ; all that it is necessary to remark is, that in such a life man does not know want, and that the intercourse between the sexes is unrestrained. The next step in society may be exemplified by the life of the Spanish South American, or Gaucho, who, as the moon shines upon him through the holes in his hut, talks of the blessings of civilization, and, seated on a bullock's scull, while he prepares for his feet the skin of a horse's hind -leg, describes with contempt the savage state of " los Barbaros" (the Indians), who " eat horses, tnd have neither clothes nor house." Surrounded by wild cattle and horses, he main- tains, in the middle of his hut, an hereditary black pot, into which his family are eternally either putting beef in, or taking it out, and con- cerning which the only rule seems to be, that the pot should be always so full, that the traveller, without payment or apology, may pay his respects to it with no more scruple than he would, in his own country, to the handle of a pump. Blessed with what he conceives to be such luxury and abundance, and ** monarch of all he surveys," the Gaucho passes his days in occupations which it is not the present object to describe : in the mean while the education of the women, as may 6 i ! I ! I! f i (i il easily be conceived, is threadbare and simple as the poncho which covers them. They are taught to bate the Indians, and to acknowledge the precepts of a religion, whose commandments explain to them the difference between right and wrongs as clearly as their own moral feelings suggest it : however, they find a young Gaucho at their sides, the sun is at their backs, and the black pot is before them. The Gaucho proposes his suit, the sun seconds it, while the black pot, as it bubbles and froths, significantly explains to them, with the persuasion of an advocate, that it is able to provide for two generations as easily as for one j and from such an abundance of food it is evident that, in this second stage of society, man does not know want, and that the intercourse between the sexes is unrestrained. A third step in society may also be exempli- fied in the same country, where, either for protec- tion against the Indians, for the purpose of work- ing mires, or to enjoy additional comforts, a few individuals, having collected together, have formed a small town. In this infant state of civilization, each individual perceives that he has something to gain, but that, in return, there is something to give up. He wishes to ()ossess a better ha- bitation than the hut in which he was born, to be better clothed, to incur some of those expenses which a better mode of existence entails, and to partake of the produce of that portion of the soil which it is at last proposed to cultivate. To enjoy these advantages, he must give up either his beef or his riding ; and as beef without riding is better than riding without beef, the Gaucho of South America, in order to supply his wants, dismounts from his horse^ and at this remarkable era in his history, he is now to be found in se- veral of the small towns, ri .; . The habits of his life, and the wild scenes around, naturally give him a disinclination to labour: in the eyes of those who have been accustomed to greater industry, his life is there- fore indolent ; yet he has made an humble effort towards improvement, which is worthy of our acknowledgment : he has contributed his mite ; he has made, perhaps, as great a sacrifice as from an individual can be expected. It is true, he is yet low on the scale of civilization ; but it should iK)t be forgotten that he was born at zero. In this state of society, although want has made its appearance, population may still be said to remain without restraint. The same trifling luxuries which the father has collected for him- self, he is not able to give to each of his children : ^' f 9 but as food is still in the greatest profusion, the black pot of the Gaucho continues to possess its magic power ; and as the means of supporting a family is thus evident to the young, it may readily be conceived that they draw from the fact a very simple conclusion ; and henc^3 it is that, in the small villages of South America, an old maid of eighteen is never to be found. Another state of society may be illustrated by the larger towns of South America. Civilization is here in a more advanced state. Luxury, fashion, folly, vice, have made some progress^ and have created artificial wants and desires, which, as they are expensive, can only be pro- cured by money or labour. In the surrounding plain, beef has still no value ; but to go in search of it requires labour, arrangement, and capital. Horses cost little or nothing ; but as the imme- diate neighbourhood of the town is cultivated, those who keep them there must either feed them with com, or pay some one for going to a dis- tance to cut grass ; and in proportion as people are unaccustomed or unwilling to work, the re- muneration which they require is always exor- bitant. In this state of society men's wants are nume- rous ; and by them population receives its first 9 check or restraint. Those who have inherited the means of enjoying luxuries, have soon pride enough to declare that those luxuries are neces- sary ; before they marry, they therefore pause to consider whether, by marrying, they may not be deprived of them. It takes some little time for them to form a suitable alliance ; and this little time, trifling as it may be, is just so much taken from the increase which population would receive, if such reflection was not necessary. - . However, although luxuries are expensive, the absolute necessary of life, beef, is still to be had almost for nothing. Young people, therefore, even of the upper classes, find their sentiments of religion and propriety, with their pride, in one scale, and their passions and the black pot in the other. The practical result is, that the latter continually overbalance the former; that the facility of obtaining provision for a family is the illicit cause of producing one ; and, with respect to the lower orders of people in this society, from the cheapness of food, they are, as far as regards the increase of population, as unfettered as the inhabitants of the smaller towns. We might now proceed to the largest cities in South America, such as Buenos Aires, Santiago, &c., the inhabitants of which are, as is well wmf 10 II: |H "^'li known, either the descendants of those who^ in the earlier stages above described, have amassed considerable fortunes, or wealthy European mer- chants : however, as their situation is similar to that of inhabitants of Christian countries, which are infinitely nearer our own reach and observa-. tion, we will bid adieu to the continent of Ame- rica, and conclude our view by a short notice of the state of population in countries which are better known to us, and concerning which the truth or fallacy of our observations will be more easily admitted or exposed. In Greece, and in the South of Italy, man, as he is over the whole world, is the creature of dimate ; and tlie sun which produces for him in abundance grapes, figs, olives, melons, &c., en- courages in his disposition an indolence which is unfavourable to bodily exertion. The objects which he seems most naturally to pursue, are love and music, gaiety and amusement. Every hour which he can steal from business he gives to pleasure ; and though necessity drives him like a school-boy to his task, yet, as in the case of the Lazzarone of Ns^ples, the moment that necessity ceases, he returns to his habits of in- dolent enjoyment. Although the upper classes are educated and accomplished — though they 11 possess the means of enjoying the highest luxu- ries of civilized life, and vie with each other in opulence and splendour, yet many of the lower classes, from indolence, live in what we should consider great distress. However, the distress of various climates is very different ; for, in the countries we are describing, it is often as great a luxury to put o^ clothing, as it is in our country to put it 071 — as desirable to get out of a warm house, as it is in England to get into one ; as a proof of which, in Greece, Malta, and many parts of the Mediterranean, it is inconvenient to walk in the streets at night, as the common people quit their houses to lie " al fresco" on the pavement. Among the several classes of society, there natu- rally exists the usual competition for the luxuries, fashions, and other artificial wants of the day: yet the only positive distress from which people in such a climate can suffer, is the want of food ; and the fruits of the earth produce this in such abundance, that a poor family may continually be seen subsisting for many days on a pumpkin. If the above hasty view is correct, it would ap- pear that population would meet \vith consider- able check in the upper classes of this society, and with very little in the lower: for the artificial wants of the former being great, the delay which Mil It ■': 12 is necessary in forming suitable marriages must also be great ; whereas the natural wants of man being produced by the climate in great abund- ance, he is almost as easily supplied with vege- table food^ as the inhabitant of the small town in South America is with animal food ; and, accord- ingly, among the poor of these countries popu- lation receives a very great increase. As we pass rapidly, in succession, over the favoured and highly civilized countries which divide these last from our own, we find that, in proportion as the climate becomes colder, man seems gradually to recover from the faintness of exhaustion, and from the state of indolence which we havejust endeavoured to describe; and as, in his northern mansion, a higher duty is apparently required of him — as he has more to suffer and less to enjoy, it seems as if he became gradually sensible of the necessity of following his judg- ment rather than his passions, and of employing his time in reflection or labour, according as his situation be one of independence or poverty. The moral space which exists between the state of society in our own country and that of South America seems almost greater than the actual distance which separates us; and the manhood and complicated arrangements of the one, com- 13 pared with the infancy and simplicity of the other, forms one of the strongest contrasts in nature. Although a stranger should arrive in this country ignorant of all its details, — although he knew not what was its produce, its consumption, its exports, or its imports, yet he could not long hesitate to acknowledge that he was in a country possessing, in the habits of its people, a mine of inexhaustible wealth : for although he might be ignorant to what purpose, and for what object, the scenes before him were directed, yet, when he observed that every labouring man was work- ing to the utmost of his strength; that every person walking the streets was apparently hur- rying towards some particular object ; that men of the greatest wealth, and of the highest birth and connexions were alike occupied in very laborious duties for the whole of the day, and for the whole of their lives ; that every horse on our roads was straining to his utmost ; that over the whole country steam-engines and machinery were competing against man and horse ; and that, even in the most minute occupations, the value of time seemed most scrupulously to be calculated — it could not but occur to him that such an enor- mous mass of power mu^t necessarily produce a 14 proportionate efibct ; and, consequently^ that the wealth of the nation he was viewing was no adven- titious acquirement, but had fairly and honestly been extracted from the sweat of its brow. In observing the remarkable stillness in which so much important business is transacted, in viewing a commercial world, which though *' spin- ning sleeps," it is singular to reflect that the scene is actually the warfare and contention of millions of individual interests, each struggling against the other ; and the conclusion^ in favour of the country, must naturally be, that its laws, whatever they are^ are wise, powerful, and re- spected. The commercial character of the country might long be the subject of observation ; but the in- terests of the poor now draw our attention from the wealth and splendour of the rich. In observing their situation, the most striking feature is, the obvious necessity which dooms or obliges them to work. In an early state of society, such as those which have been described, where provisions are plentifully obtained, and the surface of the country nearly uninhabited, this necessity does not exist : it must, therefore, be considered as the tax which the poor pay, 1st, for the protection and I I.'j advantages of civilization ; and 2dly, for the for- tune or misfortune of having been born members of a dense, crowded population ; and, in a prac- tical view, it is usaless for them to lose their time in arguing whether the tax is greater or less than the advantages ; the stern fact before them is sufficient for their attention; namely, that they have nothing but their labour to subsist upon. But not only it is necessary for them to work, but, from the dearness of provisions, clothing, &c. they must work the whole of the day. Here again it would be useless for them to argue, that, in the southern parts of Europe, a man by work- ing one day may buy pumpkins and oil enough to enable him to be idle for two : for it must be evident to them that this country does not pro- duce such pumpkins ; that also, from the severity of this climate, shelter from the elements, warm clothing for the body, and shoes for the feet, are nearly as necessary as food ; and that, as they want all these articles, and possess none of them, they must either gain them by work, or starve. Having (and it may be said with little feeling) thus driven the labourer to his work, to perform the task which a crowded civilized country un- avoidably imposes upon him, we will now per- form the more pleasing part of showing the duty which a civilized country owes to him. 16 i ' ! i No one can view the situation of the labouring man in this country without perceiving that, although his daily labour may produce him food, shelter, and raiment, yetthat^ if he has nothing to depend upon but his own exertions^ he stands on the edge of a precipice, over which he is liable every moment to fall. If sickness should deprive the labourer of health ; if accident, or the visita- tion of God should wither the arm that provides for his family, what is to become of them and of him? While the weaver is bending over his loom, having bestowed the attention of his whole life to obtain dexterity in a minute and humble department of labour, which unfits him for all other occupations, if a machine be invented, which not only deprives him suddenly of his work, but leaves him without hope that it will ever be restored to him, to what protection is he to look ? Can he expect that the country will forego the advantages of machinery to suit him ? No. If the country should deem it politic to blockade foreign ports, to wage war, or by any other acts to suspend for a period the exportation of our manufactures, how is the poor workman to sub-^^ sist during this famine in his land ? And, lastly, if, after a long life of labour, the moment should arrive when, with a willing spirit, his flesh is »j V 17 weak, if Time, who conquers all things, should conquer him ; if old age should cripple him ; if he should become no longer able to see the dawn which has so often seen him rise, or to hear the lark which has so often heard him go " whistling to his work," is he to starve ? The above mis- fortunes are a few of the accidents which may suddenly befal the labouring classes ; and as, notwithstanding our professions^ we are in prac- tice more easily governed by our interests than by our feelings, by our heads than by our hearts, we will at once endeavour to show that it is not only the duty but the interest of the rich, that the poor in all such situations should be re* lieved. - It is true that those ideas of reason and justice, which are implanted in our minds, make every man sensible that he has no right to take what does not belong to him ; and, for the welfare and protection of our property, this axiom is firmly maintained by the law ; but it is also practically true^ that necessity has no law, or rather that it is difficult for the law to govern absolute necessity ; and that, where famine is staring men in the face, where they have no possible means of obtaining relief, when hunger becomes more dreadful than the terrors of the law, it is possible they may be- 18 4. ■]■■: come desperate, and such a situation places the property of others in danger. Admitting, as we do, that such feelings may be unjustifiable, and that force may restrain them, it is surely evident that for the interest of society (for we had rather rest our argument on that safe foundation than on any other,) the poor should never be placed in the dreadful situation above described. And, if the necessity of relief be admitted, if it is acknowledged that it is wise for the country to provide against such distress, to form, in the machinery of our constitution, this safety valve, relief is to be afforded in two ways ; either by giving the labourer a whole day's pay for part of a day's work, which would enable him, by working the remainder of the day, to earn a fund to meet accidents ; or else to pay him for his day's work merely sufficient for the evil thereof, and to take the chance of being called upon to provide for him in case of sickness, ac- cident, or old age. Now, it is evident that the last arrangement is the best for the poor man, and also for the country, for as long as he can work he does not want relief; he may, possibly, never require it, never be any burden on the country ; but on the contrary, work for it for his whole life as cheaply as it is possible for him to 19 do: whereas, by the former arrangement, the country (in the price of his labour) is always subscribing to a fund which is to meet an acci- dent that may never happen, and for which, if it did happen, it might after all prove insufficient — a fund of which the poor man might be robbed — which he might lose — or which, in a moment of thoughtlessness or intoxication, he might dis- sipate ; the one is an imaginary estimate, but a certain expense ; the other is the bare remedy and nothing more : the one provision keeps the poor man continually in danger; the other, at once, places him in security. ' .. 'r r The propriety, economy, justice, and necessity of the relief which the country grants to the poor, on the general principles above stated, are clearly evident in the particular instances of distress which we quoted, namely, where the poor are thrown out of employment by the introduction of machinery, from occasional stagnation in trade, from a war, blockade, or other political accidents. , The power of machinery may as well be estimated or compared with the strength of man as with horses ; and we may, therefore, with propriety, talk of a machine of ** a hundred men's power," or of " a thousand men's power." Now, if one of the latter be invented suddenly c2 20 1: ill. to displace human labour, it must, of course, de- ducting its expenses, save the country the price of a thousand men's labour, the consequence of which must be, that the article, requiring less cost for labour, becomes cheaper. Now, not only is it for the comfort and advantage of the community, that^ for instance, shirts should cost two shillings a yard instead of three shillings ; but in the great commercial struggle, which exists between the nations of the world, it is a point of national importance^ for it may enable us to undersell our neighbours, to stand over them instead of under them, ahd/as in the race of improvement which is going on between iis, they are making every exertion to get before us ; a thousand men's power is a whip and spur which we should not hesitate to use. But with its advantages, there is also a disadvantage, because^ for a certain time, the country has, say one thousand men, to provide for. Now, if the opinion of a few individuals was taken on this case, each man would, perhaps, grumble at being saddled with his proportion of this expense, and yet cQuld not the very shirt on his back bid him be silent? However, whatever the man or his shirt might think on the subject, the introduction and growth of machinery, it is out of our power to 21 prevent. In warfare, we might as well vote it cruel to use rockets and shells, sabres and bayonets, and attempt to fight our battles with our fists, as in our great commercial contest to refuse the aid of this overpowering force; for, what can we do with the spindle and distafi^, if other nations in the woild work against us by steam ? It is true, as we have observed, that for a short time we may occasionally throw a thou- sand men out of employment ; that at the in- creased pace at which we proceed, like wounded soldiers, they are unable to keep up ; but our grand interest in advancing cannot be checked^— the great plan we have suggested^- the noble enter- prise we have undertaken cannot be abandoned — our safety and our character bid us advance, and if they cannot march we must put them on the baggage-waggon ; and until they recover — until they are able to join their ranks, we must pro- vide and pay for their carriage. The same argument may be used to show that it is our interest to support the poor who are thrown out of employment by war, blockade, or any political accident which, for a period, deprives them of work ; for if the war, block- ade, &c. are for the welfare of the country, or, in other words, if it is for our interest that such y. should take place, surely with the advantage we should take also the disadvantage, in the same way as we admit any other of the expenses. We do not hesitate to expend powder and shot ; is it not equally our interest to satisfy other just charges, particularly as, in the instance in ques- tion, we were fully aware of the estimate before the expense was incurred ? Innumerable other examples might be given to show that, in a civilized, just, and well-consti- tuted country, it is for ilie interest of the upper and middle classes of society to support the poor when- ever they may become incapable of providing for themselves ; and if the above view of the sub- ject is correct, what an equitatfe, fair, and satisfac- tory bargain is made between these two parties, the terms of which are shortly as follows : — ^The labouring classes are to work from morning till night, for six days in the week, for which they are to receive no more than is sufficient to sup- port their families — ^they are not to expect to save money ; but, on the other hand, if any ac- cident throws them out of work, they are to be kept from absolute want at the expense of the upper and middle classes of society. On a point of such infinite importance, we beg to be permit- ted again to observe, that these terms are for the 23 interest of both parties. It is for the mterest of the poor to work all day long, and for as low wages as possibl'% provided they are to be sup- ported when out of work. It is as much as in reason they can expect, born as they have been in such a crowded population, with nothing but their labour to subsist on. On the other hand^ it is for the interest of the upper ranks, that the labouring classes, whatever may be the expense, should never feel suffering greater than the terrors of the law. Lastly, it is for the interest of the whole country, that improvements should take place, even though they should throw a portion of the poor out of employment — that the improve- ments and the poor should be taken together, ba- lancing the permanent advantages of the one, with the temporary expenses of f^'^pporting the other. But in this bargain, there must be one condition, the necessity of which will be evident to both parties, namely, that the provision, which the labouring classes are to receive, when unable to provide for themselves, is not to be one which can encourage them to be indolent, but to be that scanty allowance of food and necessaries which will make them desirous to support .themselves in preference to being supported by .others. J Ss^|iS>**M-' 24^ lit Now, what are these terms when generally considered, but our own poor-laws ? And is it not^ therefore, satisfactory to reflect, that the practical system, which has so long gone on — which has attracted the admiration of the civi- lized world — which, in its features, so nearly resembles Chaiity, that it is hard to say it is not herself, rests in its theory on sterling principles, by which our duty and our interest go hand in hand ? But it is said, that somehow or other, the poor are increasing — ^that it has long been difficult to provide for them — ^that it will soon be impossible — ^that it is necessary, therefore, to change the system — ^to burn the book — ^to export the poor. But who is it that says this ? Who is it that thinks we must modify these laws which we have so long admired ? Do both parties agree in the opinion ? No; the poor are willing still to perform their part of the bargain — they will work, if they have got work, and they ask for support only because they are destitute of the means of providing it. Then it is an individual of the upper classes of society who complains ? At once we say, we should listen to his argu- ments with caution. We do not believe it is his intention to deceive, his wish to misrepresent, but he has an interest in the argument, and,> 25 1 amongst the pcx)r, there are not many who can reason against him. In viewing the important question of emigration, at which we have now arrived, we shall, therefore, endeavour to con- sider it impartially as it regards the interests of both classes of people. That we have a redundancy of population, that is to say, that we have more workmen than work, is the general acclamation of all ranks of society. It is the complaint of the upper classes, it is the murmur of the lower. What are we to do with them ? say the one — what is to be done with us? say the other. The theorists of the upper classes say, we must separate: go you to the forests of America, we had better remain here. This redundancy of population is already the subject of great alarm : it is a tremendous increase of this population which, in the opinions of many, must shortly overwhelm us ; and it is to remedy this dreadful disorder, to avert this impending calamity, that the emigration of the poor is pro- posed. This important subject is now forcing itself on the attention of every reflecting person in the country, driving many to a state of distrac- tion, which their own theories sufficiently betray. To a certain extent, population, even in its most flourishing state, must be redundant; because the 26 III fli si lame, the halt, the blind, the sick, and the imbe- cile, are, in fact, workmen without woik ; yet, to a certain degree, a redundancy of population produces an emulation in the country, which creates a healthy excitement to labour ; how- ever the sudden peace, which has lately fol- lowed our long, expensive, and sanguinary war, has naturally tended, 1st, to increase the number of our workmen — 2nd, to diminish the quantity of work; and it appears that, from these two causes, the present unusual, unnatural, and dis- tressing redundancy has proceeded. Now it is evident, that there are only two ways of suddenly relieving this redundancy of popula- tion, either by increasing the work, or by dimi- nishing the number of workmen. The first of these is said to be impossible — the latter, or emigration, is therefore declared to be necessary. . That emigration, provided it cost nothing, would afford a temporary relief, is admitted by all parties ; but that it will afford no permanent check to population — that the gap which it creates will very shortly be filled up, we believe may be shown in a very few words. In the short sketch which we took of those natural causes which in- crease, or restrain population, in the different stages of civilization, it will be remembered that 27 theory explained what every day's experience confirms: — ' z.,^' ••;■..; ,^ .i^/^' '.■'-.. ^. ■- 1st. That, if we increase our wants or distress, we check population. . • J iiV-a ;< { i 2nd. That, if we diminish our distress, we in- crease population. - But those in favour of emigration, neither looking backwards to the cause or forwards to the effect, obstinately insist, '* that if you diminish your population you diminish your distress ; " and, ani- mated by this discovery, the common people exclaim, " Emigration for ever !" but, we say, " tarry a little, there is something yet ;*' for what is to be the effect of diminishing your distress ? why, by one of the above axioms (No. 2), does it not appear, '' if you diminish distress, you in- crease population ? " and that the gap would thus be filled up is, we believe, the practical truth. This may be shortly exemplified in the treatment of our own bodies. Bleeding, we know, reduces fever, but reducing fever restores a man to health — restoring him to health, restores him his blood, and thus *' Richard is himself again." Again, if a man goes from a cold climate to a hot one, he is immediately thrown into a state of violent and constant perspiration. For many years, particles of his body are flying from him in all directions, but does this cause him to va- 28 m ''I i:''f if ^•| nish from creation ? No. His system instantly accustoms itself to, and provides for, the increased evaporation which is required from it ; and he finds that his own body, like any common article in commerce^ is supplied exactly in proportion to the demand. In a similar way, population has the power of providing for any additional de- mand ; and, if our object was to people our colo- nies, there is no doubt we could rapidly do so. It is true that, in proportion as we force their matu- rity, we hasten the period at which they will fall from our hands ; yet it is the noble policy of our country to encourage their growth, instead of attempting to stifle it^ as Spain did with her American dominions. However, this is not our present subject ; and we therefore must repeat that, whatever benefit emigration may confer upon our colonies, it will afibrd no permanent relief to the redundancy of our population. But it is said that, although emigration may not produce a permanent cure, yet it may afford temporary relief; yet, even in this narrow view of its importance, it is proper to understand to which party it is expected to afford relief— to the upper classes or to the poor? and it is evidently the manly interest of both parties that this ques- tion should be fairly considered, for, if it is not the interest of the poor, in a very short time they I will discover it, and then time, money, and exer- tions will have been lost, which a fearless consi- deration of the subject might have saved. The existing population of the old world is a living evidence of the progress which natural emigration has made, and it is strongly referred to by those who now propose the emigration of the poor; but natural and artificial emigration are very different. The emigration of the an- cients was natural emigration : it was gradual, constant, and progressive, like the great opera- tions of nature. To emigrate was attended with no convulsion of feelings or of circumstances. As population increased, it tended, as has been shown, to produce the feeling of want ; and, to avoid this feeling, as well as to supply these wants, men naturally, and with little diflSculty, extended themselves around the dwelling of their fathers ; like a swarm of bees, they found on one side of the hedge the same flowers which they had sucked on the other; and emigration thus progressively increased, like the circle from a stone dropped into still water. But the artificial emigration which is now proposed is very differ- ent from that which we have just described. We do not allude to the distance which is to separate the child from his father, but to that convulsion 30 .1 ill' in his habits, which is to plunge him firom a high state of civilization to that mode of life which be- longs to its earliest stage; and infancy is not more unlike old age, or the winter of North Ame- rica more unlike the summer of England, than the state in which an emigrant from this country has lived, when compared to the new life which is proposed for him ; and if it is wise before one plants a tree to consider whether the soil and climate are congenial to its growth ; before we sow, to think whether it is likely we shall reap; so we should also consider, whether the emigra- tion of the poor is likely to increase sufficiently to afford the temporary relief which we require. Neither our inclination nor our limits will per- mit us to consider the details of those theories which, step by step, and by supposition after supposition, support emigration. We will not argue how much it exactly costs to send a family say to North America, and how much afterwards to conduct him to his location ; how many months' provision each man is to receive — what his " log- house, pig-stye, seed for his first crops, brush- hooks, axes," &X3. are to cost — what he is to pay for his *' sow with pigs, ewe with lambs, kettles for making sugar," &c. ; but we will endeavour to make a few impartial observations on the subject. 31 The two most essential points which a person about to emigrate from this country has to consi- der are — 1st, The difference of climate ; 2nd, the difference in the state of civilization. ^ To an English working man, the former is a question of the utmost importance. In his own climate he is quite aware of exactly the quantity of work he can perform ; he knows almost to a pound what he can lift ; how many hours he can work ; how many yards of cotton he can weave ; how many roods of clover he can mow ; what number of bricks he can lay ; what distance he can walk, &c., &c. ; and impressed with these data, he might naturally expect, that he would be able to do in one country about as much as he could do in another ; but as the weight of a body depends upon whether it be weighed in air, water, or quicksilver, so do the powers, mental and physical, of man depend on thp temperature in which he is placed. The trifling extremes of heat and cold which exist in our own country will even support this statement, for we all know that there are some days in Which we feel languid, and others in which we feel strengthened and braced; but when we are removed to the torrid zone, with sinews unstrung, and limbs unhinged, how many 88 ¥ '< 9 m are there among us who can testify, that life itself becomes almost an exertion, and that it is even a labour to live ! The very beasts of the field are overpowered by heat. To contend with the sun for any length of tim^ is beyond the feeble powers of man ; for a short period he may stand erect in his presence, but it is the battle between the giant and the dwarf; he is sure to be conquered ; our bravest soldiers have sunk in the exertion, and the Peruvian Indian fell on his face to worship the sun, because he feared that his fir's would otherwise consume him. In the British Colonies in North America, (including the Canadas, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and Prince Edward's Island,) in Africa, New South Wales, and Van Diemen*s Land, it is well known, that the summer, even in the coolest of these countries, is oppressively hot ; and, although, by certain precautions and lux- uries, the heat in all of them may be much mo- derated or avoided, yet to emigrants who are obliged to contend with it, it must be reckoned a serious inconvenience. The extreme of cold is certainly better adapted to our constitutions than that of heat, and our bodies are braced by it, as our minds are strengthened by adversity ; still, however, to an English labouring man, the long severe winter of North America must also be a serious incon- venience. Good clothing and stoves may miti- gate its rigour, but it is still an enemy to contend with. As far, therefore, as regards climate^ the English emigrant to North America should cal- culate that he is a loser by the bargain, for he has to contend with more heat and cold, and he has, consequently, to provide for more shade and shelter than in his own country is requisite. The second question, namely, The difference in the state of civilization^ is a subject which the emigrant should also very seriously consider. Accustomed as we all aro to live in a highly civilized country, we neglect to estimate the ad- vantages they possess. For the rich, luxuries which have been expressly sent for ten or fif- teen thousand miles are ranged on shelves, or displayed on counters, and they have only to rub Aladdin's lamp, or, in other words, to give a check upon their bankers, and any thing that they wish for in creation is summoned before them ; but, although the ' genius of the lamp * does not wait upon the poor, yet the blessings or fruits of civilization are to them far more va- luable than its luxuries or flowers. A revered religion, just laws, medical aid, the approbation D 34 1:11 Mi' 11 hi m of s'xiety, the sight of relations, the regard of friends^ these are lessings which the poorest may enjoy ; but besides these, in a civilized country, there are comforts so minute, that it would bo difficult to explain them, although we should soon feel their want were we to be weaned from them. But it may be said, that there ire many who do not entertain these ideas or appreciate such blessings, and that some of them are imaginary ; however, there is one positive blessing to which the emigrant bids adieu^ and which is so little imaginary, that it may fairly be estimated in pounds^ shillings, and pence. We allude to the poor laws ; that noble provision, which ensures, to a poor man and his family support, in case age, sickness, accident, or misfortune should leave them destitute. ri?- r*.v. r Without carrying this subject any further, it will be evident to any reflecting mind, that the English emigrant must calculate, not only on living in a more inconvenient climate, but on losing a very large proportion of the comforts and blessings of civilization. , The restless, the enterprising, and the des- perate, — men ^^^ho, if they were even rich, would; get tired of prosperity, who prefer the freshness ^5 of a new world to the restraint and want of elbow-room in our crowded nursery ; who scorn the limits of the two-penny post ; who wish to see something more of creation than an English cottage and its pig-' *ye, — these are ihe indivi- duals who, generally speaking, have hitherto emi- grated; and people of this description will always be happier, and better likely to succeed in the new world than the old. They enjoy its liberty, and brave its hardships. They look upon their own country as a nest from which they have flown; they call civilization a mother, whose apron-string they have left, an old nurse for luxury, age, and imbecility ; and they cross the blue waters of the Atlantic to escape from bondage. However, our ideas do not aU hang on such lofty hooks, and the poor in particul?i are matter-of-fact people, who, sooner or later, will most certainly inquire where it is they are to go, what they are to pay, what they are to do, how they are to live, whal they are to receive, and if the answers to these questions are not satis- factory, the project of emigration will rapidly come to its own end, for the poor will refuse to emigrate, and will remain in England. No one can visit our workshops and manu- ^ '' '" '^ ' ' ' d2 ^ '"'■ 36 I factories without perceiving the advantage which we gain by a minute division of labour, for as, by this arrangement, the workman devotes his whole attention to one small object, his dexterity on that point is scarcely to be surpassed. But although the benefit he confers on his country is evident, yet the sacrifice he makes is very great ; for, by devoting his sole attention to one poin^ he hangs his fortunes on a single thread, and can seek for subsistence in only one direction. His mind, like his body, becomes bent and modelled to a particular form of employment, and when fixed habits and occupations have destroyed the natural elasticity of his frame, teaching him to lean for support on the exertions of others, can it be expected that he will possess the general intelligence, strength, and activity which are necessary to contend against savage life? If we observe the individual whose em- ployment for the whole of his life has been to polish the head of a pin ; or the stocking-maker, v/ho, from his early childhood, seated opposite a frame, has given it two heaves and a push, that his thread may buzz towards the right, and has then repeated the same two heaves and a push, that the thread may buzz back again, in short, if we observe any description of mechanic in the , 37 humble branch of his employment, can we seri- ously declare that such a person is fit to be plunged at once into the forests of America, or !:mong the bushes of Albany, to be told to make himself comfortable and to enjoy his liberty ? If we were to lead sach a person into one of our own woods in England, put an axe into his hand, desire him to cut down trees, and with them to build himself an house, with what awkwardness would he commence his work, but how much worse would be his situation, if we were to send him with a wife and two children to America ! How little wow.ld his body be inured to the climate, or his mind to the scenes of uncivilized life, so rough and cheerless, that philosophy itself would tremble to encounter them ! Suppose, even, that he succeeds in buila^ng a log- hut, and thus getting under shelter, that he clears a small space around him, has he not in the approaching season much suffering to encounter ? Would it not be mockery to congratulate him on his inde- pendence ? for even during summer, what are his comforts, positive or imaginary ? And when the snow of winter in its descent, first rests upon the bending branches of the dark pines which surround him, and, like the cold hand of death, robs him of the little patch of cultivated surface I 38 —his empire — when he compares the scene before him with the country he has left, may he not be disposed with Selkirk to exdaipi. Oh, Solitude! where are the charms which sages have •; , found in thy face. Better dwell in the midst of alarms than reign in this horrible place ! And now, in '"*'i»-n for all this, what is the reward which tlie . st sanguine anticipate for a healthy labouring man who emigrates with his two sons to North America ? They say that, after spending his capital of seventy or a hundred pounds, after having got himself under shelter, after having laboured for three years, he finds himself possessed of a small freehold on which he lives better (the word comfortable cannot emigrate) than he lived in England ; but by expending the same capital^ and by making the same exertions, in England, would not almost any healthy man, with his two sons, be able to obtain as much comfort as the forest of America can afford ? But the lawyer says, he does not possess the free- hold; however, in the uncultivated regions of America, " a freehold " is certainly a very differ- ent sort of possession from a freehold in England, for, it is well known that an emigrant often gets tired of his " freehold," and deserts it. Arn 39 ' Again, from whom is it we gain our principal information on the subject ? From those who have already emigrated, and from other inhabitants of the country ; and surely their testimony should be received with very great caution. In the year 1825, when so many South Ameri- can Mining Companies broke out, like carbun- cles on the round plethoric countenance of John Bull, on what were the calculations or expecta-; tions of the shareholders formed, what was it thai induced them to lay down so many millions of useiial good ncioney ? Why the official reports of the value of the mines which were sent to England by the natives of the country ; and with all our] boasted knowledge of the world, each sentence of these reports was quoted by the un- happy shareholder as an authority which was to overpower all argument, and satisfy everybody that his share of golu and silver would be the envy of the world. It is true, that behind the scenes, directors, aged, crafty, wealthy men, were sneering at imbecility, profiting by credulity, and that the knave, as usual, was in his saddle cruelly riding the fool; however the bait which was held out was caught at by everybody, and the " reports and official statements from South America *' were considered as inviolable as the 40 ■11 ; laws of the Medes and Persians — ^the miserable ruin which has followed should surely, on this pointy teach us experience. Without supposing that the reports which ar^ now oflfered to us of the value of the property of several individuals who have already emigrated are intentionally incorrect, we surely cannot fail to observe that the estimate of the value of each property is made by the identical individual to whom it belongs. It is natural that he who has encountered hardships and sufferings which we cannot appreciate^ which he, perhaps, has not language to describe, should set a high value on the produce of his labour ; and, without any in- tention to mislead, it is natural that he should be anxious to give life and animation to the cheer- less forest which surrounds him, to draw towards his hut individuals of his own country, who should banish solitude, afford him society, and become purchasers of that produce which, besides the printed statements of all the emigrants. Colonel Cockbum himself fairly acknowledges cannot be converted into money. But, whatever may be the present state of those who first emigrated, it must be evident that the individual who is now to land, has not the same choice, and that before one of the old settlers in North America can 41 speak confidently df the success or failure which is to attend a man who is now to sail from England, ae ought to inquire what description of man he is to be ; for it is impossible, without this information from him, to say, that,, at the end of five years,* he shall be able to ^* repay five pounds," which most certainly must depend not only on the skill and physical strength of the in- dividual, but on the particular spot on which he may chance to be located ; and when the arduous nature of such a life is duly considered, it must be evident that an English woodman, a plough- man, a bricklayer, a slater, a watchmaker, a stocking-maker, a bell-hanger, a weaver, a painter, a fiddler, a pin-maker, and a tailor, would meet in the forest of America on very difierent terms. ,. It is true that some of the old settlers, who have succeeded, and whose statements have been submitted by Colonel Cockburn to the Colonial Department, declare that they have cleared, say, ** twenty acres, that they have a yoke of steers, one cow, three calves, pigs, poultry, &c. ; that they consider it all worth one hundred pounds, and do not owe a farthing.*' . u q.: . -iU ^ ^ The value of such property in England would 9ti6sifjn -y >Crr: * Vide Colonel Cockburn's Report -^^^Q^^T^^^^ 42 easily be calculated and appreciated ; for in a crowded civilized country all these things would procure, in exchange, a number of those comforts which in every village can be purchased : but we must not consider that beef is worth eight-pence a pound all over the world, or that a pig is every- where the treasure or " jewel'' that he is in Ire- land. If Uiis were the case, the possessions of the settlers above quoted would certainly be very valuable ; but the contrary appears, from almost every one of the statements which are printed with Colonel Gockbum's Report, for none of them say they have any money ; all they say, (and certainly it is a great deal to say,) is that thisy do not owe a penny, and the moral of this probably is, that they have plenty of good food, but not many luxuries. Now we all eagerly bend towards the particular thing which we happen to want ; when the vessel is sinking we think of nothing but the shore ; when parched with thirst, we ask only for water ; when shivering with cold, warmth is the greatest enjoyment we can fancy ; and when a half-drowned Irishman, who was picked up at sea, was asked if he would like a glass of brandy-and-water, he very properly re- plied, " As much brandy as you please, but none of your water.'* In the same way^ it is argued that because our poor want food, ** abundance of food *' is all they require ; but this is not the fair practical way of estimating the value of a settler's posses- sions. If these possessions were in England, as we before observed, their value could be calcu- lated ; but to enable us to estimate them in Ame- rica, the fairest way is to explain what they have cost. Now let us suppose for a moment that it was possible suddenly to transport our labouring classes, of all descriptions, into the forests of North America — to let them see the nature of the country — to let them feel the climate — ^to make them comprehend the mode of life it would be neces- sary to adopt, and then to give them time to rc:^ fleet on what they had seen, felt, and observed, and to compare their notes with the country, friends, and blessings they had left behind them. If a space of twenty acres was then to be marked out before them, and it was to be proclaimed that any man who, with his own hands, would cut down all these trees, build himself a log-house, live here seven years, that the ground should Ipelong to himself, and that he should gradually become possessed of '* a yoke of steers, one cow, three c?alves, pigs, poultry, and ^ot owe a penny" 44 the result? The strong, the enthusiastic, the enterprising, and the daring, would instantly step forward, and it is easy to fancy that many a young man would say " done ! " to the bargain ; and then, throwing down his hat, would unbutton his shirt collar, tie his braces round his waist, take up the axe, advance his left foot, and begin ; but the poor Glasgow weaver, the banker's clerk, the village barber, the London mechanic, would probably view the subject in a very different light, and, after measuring with their eyes the height and size of the trees before them, they would probably turn about, show the white feather in their tails, and search for a finger-post to direct them the nearest way to Charing-cross. But it may be said, that if the forest of America does not suit them, they might visit our African settlement at Algoa Bay. Nothing can certainly sound finer than the descriptions which are given of this country. It may be noble to see the trunks of the elephants waving in the air, and their immense ears flopping as they trample their way through the evergreen bushes and high grass, which clothe the surface of this extensive region of the world. It may be magnificent to see the rhinoceros and bufiklo, each cased in his impenetrable 45 armour, tilting at each other like knights at a tournament^ while the lazy hippopotamus, as umpire, stands gazing at the strife, or frowning at the tiger that is sneaking through the bushes. But, without describing the burning climate and want of water, we will only observe, that the nerves of emigrants are not all screwed up to concert pitch ; that in their eyes these scenes are more terrible than magnificent, and, as an in- stance of this, we can mention, that when our settlers first landed at Algoa Bay, not only the women and children were terrified at the thoughts of wild beasts and KafTres, but that the men too were sufficiently frightened. The greater part of them were city mechanics, who would not ven- ture from their tents without swords and fire- arms ; and one day several of them produced to an English officer, who was endeavouring to ap-' pease their consternation, part of the skeleton of ^* a wild beast which they had positively found close to them," and which the officer at once re- cognised to be the half of a monkey ! However, seriously speaking, the wants of people who have been born in a rich and cultivated country, are not to be supplied by food alone, and to utter " farewell" to civilization, is easier said than done. We have now considered the simple question, ^ u. ■J : nate, and independent in its own notions, like Dr. Francia in his government of Paraguay — we allude to Ireland. There is surely no rational grounds for be- lieving, that the general causes which either curb or encourage pc^^ulation in all other parts of the world, should not operate in our sister country; yet we are told that distress which checks population all over the world, and which regulates even the increase of the brute creation, has in Ireland an opposite effect. We are told that there people from distress become despe- rate ; that they get ** reckless ; " that a sort of rutting-season comes upon them ; that in mad- ness, or as it is termed, " recklessness," they fly to early marriage ; that they desert their work ; that their numbers are increasing as rapidly as their distress; and that, in short, nothing but emigration can save that country from the hor- rors which threaten to destroy it That the Irish are a distressed and a neg- lected people, even their own absentees are driven to confess ; and it is equally true that their numbers are rapidly increasing ; but we can never admit that the latter is the consequence of the former ; on the contrary, we maintain that 63 distress in Ireland, as in all other countries, tends to check population, pointing out to each individual, by an arithmetic which the humblest capacity can comprehend, that if he cannot pro- vide for himself, he would have increased diffi- culty in providing for a family ; and if this argu- ment is consistent with reason, it is beyond the power of a rational being to deny it — he may in despair, or, as it is termed, *' recklessness," be deaf to it for a moment, but his reason he cannot dismiss ; and the mild, quiet, and constant appeal vi^hich Nature, on this subject, makes to his un- derstanding, must unavoidably have its due weight, and produce its ordained effect ; and it is therefore false to say that the distress of Ire- land is the cause of its increase of population. The increase is a misfortune, which certainly happens to accompany the distress; but the principle of Nature, by which distress would gently regulate the increase, exists, though par- ticular circumstances overpower its effect, in the same way as the principle of gravitation, which tends to draw a heavy body to the earth, is resisted or overpowered by the table on which the body rests. What are the circumstances, or causes, to which 64 t i we allude, it may at a future period be our humble endeavour to point out; however, in general terms we may shortly observe, as one of these causes, that Ireland possesses the food of a hot country, and the climate of a cold one ; and that the facility and trifling expense at which potatoes can be raised, makes vegetable diet in Ireland nearly as cheap as beef is in the plains of South America, or as fruit in some of the southern coun- tries of Europe ; and as we have all along shown that the effect of food easily obtained is to keep men indolent, uncivilized, and also to increase po- pulation, it will surely appear that the present state of Ireland is the eflfect of the same causes which regulate mankind in other parts of the world. However, as is well known, the crop of potatoes is uncertain, and it is the sad effects of this failure, or uncertainty, that is one of the principal causes of distress in Ireland ; for the usual abundance of the crop invites the common people to lead, what may truly be termed, uncivilized life, while its occasional failure plunges them in a distress which is never known in the parts of South America or Europe to which we have alluded, because this sudden failure of food does not, in those countries, ever happen ; and even if it was m to happen, from the mildness of the climate, the distress would not be equal to that which is caused by it in Ireland. Whether this distress, by the wise laws of Nature, will not eventually produce its own re- medy, — whether it will not induce the Irish poor to acknowledge the necessity of looking to other food for subsistence, and of undertaking a steady course of labour in order to procure it, — whether the great landed proprietor may not perceive how much it is his interest to civilize the habits of the labouring classes, is not the present subject of inquiry. We have merely mentioned Ireland, because the country was said to be an anomaly in Nature, and that arguments which have weight in other countries, like substances in an ex- hausted receiver, have not, in Ireland, their pro- per gravity, and that, consequently, emigration was there to effect a cure, to work a miracle, which it could not produce in other countries. Among the Irish, as among the British, there are many who have emigrated, and who will emigrate ; and there is little doubt, but that our Government will afford them every rational faci- lity ; but, that distress in Ireland, or in our own country, cannot be cured by emigration — that it neither can nor will be restrained by it, though F 66 ,i; mf «5 we mortgage our poor-rates in the attempt, we have endeavoured to show by arguments, which are now submitted to the considerate attention of the public. That these arguments are neither the result of reading nor of study will, we fear, be but too evident to every one ; but although they do not pretend to possess these advantages, yet the writer trusts they will not be considered altoge- ther visionary or groundless. If he has described the effect which a burning sun has on the human frame, it is because he himself has sunk under it — if he has described the cheerless situation of those who go beyond the limits of civilization, it is because he himself has passed that boundary — if he has stated that English mechanics, like English bull-dogs, lose their energy by change of climate, it is because he has had an opportu- nity of remarking it. If, with suspicious caution, he warns the public against trusting to estimates of property, which have crossed the Atlantic, it is because he him- self has been grossly deceived by them — and if, with too much earnestness, he has said that for the poor as well as for the rich, ** there is no place like home," it is because he feels it and believes it. ■"T- ^ ■ / ., 67 .. In standing against a system so powerfully, ably, and conscientiously supported, he places himself in a situation uncongenial to his habits and to his profession ; but convinced of the truth of the evidence he offers, his sincere object is to endeavour to prevent the country from losing in the New World the character and high repu- tation which so justly distinguish it in the Old ; and when it is considered that England has so lately incurred the commercial disgrace of lend- ing to the unfledged Governments of America seventeen millions of money, and of forming companies, which in the several countries are objects of ridicule and contempt, it will, he trusts, be his excuse and his apology for attempt- ing to offer to public notice " a few practical arguments against the theory of emigration. " THE END. ■I ■■i m i >i I ■ ii 11 1 M ' V 'I 1 LONDON: Printed by Wimiam Cu>wbi, Stamford-ttrcel. ■•■■PPBWIH ., ^*V -,^. ,i <;■. i = ipa »