I do not know that any writer has supposed that on this earth man will ultimately be able to live without food.  But Mr Godwin has conjectured that the passion between the sexes may in time be extinguished.  As, however, he calls this part of his work a deviation into the land of conjecture, I will not dwell longer upon it at present than to say that the best arguments for the perfectibility of man are drawn from a contemplation of the great progress that he has already made from the savage state and the difficulty of saying where he is to stop.  But towards the extinction of the passion between the sexes, no progress whatever has hitherto been made.  It appears to exist in as much force at present as it did two thousand or four thousand years ago.  There are individual exceptions now as there always have been.  But, as these exceptions do not appear to increase in number, it would surely be a very unphilosophical mode of arguing to infer, merely from the existence of an exception, that the exception would, in time, become the rule, and the rule the exception.

Assuming then my postulata as granted, I say, that the power of population is indefinitely greater than the power in the earth to produce subsistence for man.

Population, when unchecked, increases in a geometrical ratio.  Subsistence increases only in an arithmetical ratio.  A slight acquaintance with numbers will shew the immensity of the first power in comparison of the second.

By that law of our nature which makes food necessary to the life of man, the effects of these two unequal powers must be kept equal.

This implies a strong and constantly operating check on population from the difficulty of subsistence.  This difficulty must fall somewhere and must necessarily be severely felt by a large portion of mankind.

Through the animal and vegetable kingdoms, nature has scattered the seeds of life abroad with the most profuse and liberal hand.  She has been comparatively sparing in the room and the nourishment necessary to rear them.  The germs of existence contained in this spot of earth, with ample food, and ample room to expand in, would fill millions of worlds in the course of a few thousand years.  Necessity, that imperious all pervading law of nature, restrains them within the prescribed bounds.  The race of plants and the race of animals shrink under this great restrictive law.  And the race of man cannot, by any efforts of reason, escape from it.  Among plants and animals its effects are waste of seed, sickness, and premature death.  Among mankind, misery and vice.  The former, misery, is an absolutely necessary consequence of it.  Vice is a highly probable consequence, and we therefore see it abundantly prevail, but it ought not, perhaps, to be called an absolutely necessary consequence.  The ordeal of virtue is to resist all temptation to evil.