POPULATION OF THE SEVERAL COUNTIES OF ENGLAND, WALES, & SCOTLAND. [From Returns presented to Parliament in 1831.] CONSUMPTION OF WHEAT AND OTHER GRAIN IN THE UNITED KINGDOM, IN A YEAR, SIX MONTHS, A MONTH, A WEEK, ETC. [From M'CULLOCH's Commercial Dictionary.] 40,000,000 52,000,000 One month 26,000,000 Two weeks 13,000,000 One week 6,500,000 One day CULTIVATION OF THE UNITED KINGDOM. THE following statement will be found interesting, as exhibiting the number of acres in cultivation in the United Kingdom, and the different purposes specified, for which they are employed in England and Wales; as well as the number of farms, and the annual amount of property derived from agriculture. In England & Wales it is calculated that there are 3,250,000 32,342,400 1,250,000 4,752,000 5,265,000 5,950,000 8,523,930 19,738,930 1,200,000 2,416,664 19,441,944 1,119,159 Total 46,922,970 14,600,000 15,871,463 77,394,433 17,300,000 The number of Farms in the United Kingdom is estimated at 2,000,000, and the property annually derived from agriculture in Great Britain and Ireland, at £215,817,624. 37,094,000 Acres-Total of England and Wales. 1,300,000 ANCIENT FUNERAL CUSTOM. AMONG the Funeral Customs more hastily noticed by Mr. Brand, in his Popular Antiquities, is that of a corpse being carried to burial upon the shoulders of friends. Quoting Durand upon the subject of the pall, he says: "The same writer informs us, in many quotations from the ancient Christian writers, that those of the highest orders of clergy thought it no reproach to their dignity, in ancient times, to carry the bier; and that at the funeral of Paula, bishops were what in modern language we call under-bearers." He then adds a short extract from Izaak Walton's Life of Mr. George Herbert. Walton, noticing Herbert's ordination, says, "at which time the reverend Dr. Humphrey Henchman, now Lord Bishop of London, tells me, he laid his hand on Mr. Herbert's head, and (alas!) within less than three years, lent his shoulder to carry his dear friend to his grave." The practice is directed by one of the Canons of the Toletan Council. Deacons were to carry deacons : and priests to carry priests. Women, however, were never allowed to act as under-bearers. It has been suggested that this practice had its origin in what is said in the Acts of the Apostles: that "devout men carried Stephen to his burial, and made great lamentation over him :" but Dr. Zouch says the custom was derived from the Jews. An old English historian, Gervase of Canterbury, assures us, that in Normandy, Stephen, Earl of Blois, afterwards king of England, assisted as a bearer to the body of King Henry the First: and William of Malmesbury, noticing the bringing of that king's corpse to Rouen, says, that nobles of the highest rank carried it by turns. Golding, in his Treatise of the burning of Bucer and Phagius, speaking of Edmund Grindal, Archbishop of Canterbury, says, "He was so zealous a reformer and admirer of the German divines, who swarmed under Cranmer's auspices, that, on the death of Bucer, at Cambridge, he actually was one of his bearers who personally carried him on their shoulders to the grave.' Dr. Zouch quotes another instance from Fell's Life of Hammond, p. 276. He says, "When the good Dr. Hammond was buried without ostentation or pomp, several of the gentry and clergy of the country, and affectionate multitudes of less quality, attending on his obsequies, the clergy with ambition offering themselves to bear him on their shoulders, which accordingly they did, and laid that sacred burden in the burialplace of the generous family, which with such friendship had entertained him when alive." Sir Jonah Barrington mentions in his memoirs, that his father was carried to the grave on the shoulders of his four sons, as a last mark of their affection. Other examples of this custom may doubtless be found by a diligent inquirer. The instances here cited, are at all events, sufficient to show the practice of it, both in England and elsewhere, at different and distant periods. It seems to have been most used by the clergy; and occasionally only by laymen. In very late times, bearing the pall appears to have been its substitute. THE hours of a wise man are lengthened by his ideas, as those of a fool are by his passions. The time of the one is long, because he does not know what to do with it; so is that of the other, because he distinguishes every moment of it with useful or amusing thoughts; or, in other words, because the one is always wishing it awav, and the other always enjoying it.-ADDISON. LINES WRITTEN BY THE LATE PRINCESS AMELIA. Unthinking, idle, wild and young, I laughed and danced, I talked and sung, MY BIRTH-DAY. Not if a thought, a breath, a word, Thy wheels, swift orb of light, could stay, (As once, when Israel's thirsty sword Drank slaughter through the lengthened day) If but a wish thy car might rein, Till bidden to roll on again; Oh! not from heart nor lip of mine That wish should spring, that word be spoken; Shine on, as thou art wont to shine, Thy speed unslack'd, thy course unbroken; Enough for me the bound assign'd, But what succeeds? Night, darksome Night, Unjoyous with thy beams, the tomb! And when we rise, as rise we shall, Enfranchised from this coil of clay, And gathering at the trumpet's call, Revive to Heaven's eternal day; To heirdom of the promised sky! S. A SUMMER'S RAMBLE IN THE TYROL. AN interesting little book has lately appeared, called "The Pedestrian," or "A Summer's Ramble in the Tyrol and some of the adjacent Provinces," in 1830, by Mr. LATRObe. This gentleman published a few years ago a work called the "Alpenstock, or Sketches of Swiss Scenery and Manners," to which he thinks his present volume may appropriately be considered as a companion. It abounds with many valuable reflections, and gives throughout proofs of a religious, benevolent, contented, grateful mind. A few extracts cannot be otherwise than welcome to our readers. The following sentences breathe the spirit of genuine piety, and indicate a mind most valuable to its possessor, inestimable in its resources of innocent gratification, and in its habit of self improvement. "I am a great and ardent admirer of the works of God, in all of which, from the stars of heaven to the midge sporting in the sunbeam, I find abundant food for thought, whenever I raise my mind to the earnest contemplation of them. "Thus, while either seeking to divert my thoughts from passing subjects of annoyance, incidental to my mode of travelling, or sitting down for the sake of repose, I court the nstruction and entertainment derivable from the fixed contemplation of any object that presents itself most readily to my notice. Perchance, while resting by the road-side, I take into my hand the first flower or insect that comes in my way, examine the structure of the one, or the form and habits of the other, with earnest and fixed attention. And how many times have I risen from that silent contemplation with a mind utterly weaned from the heaviness occasioned by ruminating over the existence of some petty sorrow,-entirely engrossed with the wonders thus unveiled to me, and a heart filled with adoration of the greatness and goodness of that God, who is the maker and sustainer of all things. Examined in this temper of mind, I have seldom held a flower in my hand which I did not think curious and beautiful enough to have bloomed in paradise; and never returned the insect or reptile to its bed of leaves, without a feeling that the link that binds me to every living thing had become strengthened, and my sympathy towards the subjects of my investigation excited and increased." : A CURE FOR TRIVIAL ANOYANCES. "Mental trouble and exertion are not always to be avoided, let our position be what it may. Circumstances may produce and add physical to moral suffering, and the weight of both may seem capable of weighing you to the ground. But take heart you may believe my testimony, that the sum and quality and order of your enjoyments [a cheerful Christian pedestrian he is speaking of] will, when put into the balance against your troubles, far outweigh them. Moreover, the mercy and goodness of our Creator has so moulded our minds, that past pleasures and enjoyments can always be vividly recalled to our recollection;-past suffering with difficulty, and seldom in detail. I own that, surrounded by flies, fleas, and musquitoes, it may be some time before you can get your philosophy and good humour uppermost. However, pray attempt it, and having once succeeded, do not let them again be overcome. Sometimes a very slight and trivial circumstance will give you considerable assistance. I recollect at St. Quirico, after having been repeatedly bitten by my winged assailants, when I would have sunk into transient repose, I first lost my assumed temper of patience and endurance, and then suddenly took the fancy into my head to see how, in all the world, they effected their entry into my skin. I need not say that the very amusement produced by the experiment repaid me for the smart: for it was curious to see the little blood-thirsty marauder address himself to his work in quite a workmanlike manner,-poise himself upon four of his delicate legs, while the other two were extended laterally to keep him in balance. He then forced in his little transparent proboscis deeper and deeper, till I felt him in the quick, when, holding my hand between my eye and the light, I could see that it acted just as well as that of an elephant, and drew up a minute stream of blood into his little thirsty stomach. The effort at once turned the tide of my reflections; and the circumstance, trivial as it was, led to thoughts which restored to my mind both equanimity and patience. In the same manner I would advise you to attempt by all means to divert your attention from your own person to other objects. The Providence of God has surrounded us with objects of improving distraction, by considering which we may be led to think of him. If you are attentive you will find that the same hand which, in rocky, heated and thirsty lands, has strewed the seeds of the finest aromatic shrubs and plants, preferably to those of any other species, for the comfort and solace of the passenger; has left no situation however painful or disagreeable where an antidote to your distress has not been placed within your reach. But you must rouse yourself to seek for it." A MAY MORNING. "I do not envy the man who can breathe the perfumed air of a May morning, and gaze upon the bright face of renewed nature without emotion. I am no longer a boy, but at such moments seldom fail to find my spirit imbued with the feelings of one: and fresh, cheering, and delicious they are." EVENING CALM AND MORNING FRESHNESS. "At Kolsass I came to a halt; night having begun to darken around me, and the stars to twinkle over the mountains. I retain a delightful remembrance of the calm which, spreading over the face of nature during the last hours of my evening's walk, shed some portion of its peace and quiet upon my soul and spirits. There is a tranquillity in the mood of that hour, in the hues of natural objects, and the hounds and scenes of closing day which I never can resist. It as soothed many a fit of mental impatience and disquiet, and I hope I shall never cease to be alive to, and observant of it. "There are few habits more essentially necessary to the enjoyment and comfort of a pedestrian traveller than that of early rising, and there are few which under all circumstances bring so certain a return of advantage. I will not here dilate upon the peculiar beauty of external nature at that hour when the early grey gradually wakes into warmth and colour; or speak of the fresh feeling of enjoyment both in body and soul which he experiences whose feet brush away the heavy dews from the meadows." SUNSET AT SEA. "The sun went down to the horizon, and our second day of trial was drawing to an end. I may truly say that whatever may have been my feeling of disappointment at seeing my hopes of soon gaining the destined port so strangely frustrated yet sunset, that glorious, inexpressibly glorious, spectacle to the eyes of those who float upon the bosom of the wide waters-never failed to bring a season of peace, an hour of calm enjoyment, a feeling of resignation, and a disposition to humble myself before God, and weigh his infinite mercies against his mild chastisements. If indeed the objects comprised within the mariner's range of vision are few in number and admit of comparatively little variety; though a species of sameness may be said to dwell upon the scene around him for a greater proportion of his hours; yet there are seasons when the small number of those objects is materially favourable to their combining together scenes of, I would almost say, greater sublimity than the variegated face of the land, with its endless diversity of objects and forms, ever produces. The sun, moon and stars, and the clouds above and the ocean with its changeful surface below, are perhaps all but they are as an open book to him, the pages of which alternately instil delight into his mind, or give warning of danger and peril. It is indeed an awful and delightful volume." to us. WHOEVER wishes, says Augustin, to be with God, ought always to pray and often to read: for when we pray we speak to God, and when we read he speaks The study of the Holy Scriptures works in us two effects of grace given. It enlightens and instructs the understanding, and then withdrawing the man from the vanities of the world, it carries him to the love of God. But then (adds Basil) if we speak to God in prayer we must speak from the heart, for when he speaks to us by his word, it is to our heart that he speaks. As the rose-tree is composed of the sweetest flowers, and the sharpest thorns; as the heavens are sometimes fair and sometimes overcast, alternately tempestuous and serene; so is the life of man intermingled with hopes and fears, with joys and sorrows, with pleasures and with pains.-BURTON. THE FIRST MONTHLY PART OF THE will be ready for delivery on tho 30th instant; price, with the Supplement, Sixpence, sewed in a Neat Wrapper. The MONTHLY PARTS, will be regularly continued on the last day of each succeeding Month, so that Subscribers in all parts of the Country may receive them with the Magazines, &c. from London, by giving the necessary orders to their respective Booksellers. THE EDUCATION 1832. UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE COMMITTEE OF GENERAL LITERATURE AND EDUCATION, APPOINTED BY THE SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE. ON THE FITNESS OF THE FORMS OF ANIMALS TO THEIR MODES OF LIFE. THERE are few things more worthy of observation, or more pleasing and instructive, than the way in which different animals are fitted for their appointed modes of life. We see in the management of them all such a depth of knowledge, such a wisdom of design, such a power of accomplishment, as is truly worthy of our highest admiration and most serious reflection. Let us even consider so simple a subject as the foot of a bird, and we shall find it full of contrivance and fitness for its purpose. Every part of nature is peopled with inhabitants. The bosom of the sea abounds with the finny tribes, and its surface forms a resting place for many families of the feathered creation. The numerous The Black-backed Gull. Common Cormorant. species of gulls, many of the duck tribe, the auks, the | be found floating on or near the surface; but the corguillemots, the petrels, the divers, the cormorants, the goosanders, and various others, people the rocks and precipices, obtain their food in the ever restless waves, and many may in truth be said to have "their home upon the deep." Now the foot of a bird is always adapted to its mode of life. If any of these sea birds had a foot like that of a common fowl, a crow, a magpie, or a pigeon, it would not have served well for swimming; and hence we see that they are web-footed, like the duck or the goose. Their mode of living, however, is not in all cases the same, and in order to meet their different circumstances in this respect, there are corresponding variations in the foot; relating to its form, the degree in which it is webbed, the comparative length of the leg, or some other particular; for example, we have here represented the black-backed gull, and the common cormorant. Both swim, and both have webbed feet, yet there are several points of difference between them. Why are the feet placed so much further back in the cormorant? they are so far behind, that the bird, as you see, stands nearly erect. The reason is this: the Creator has determined, in his wisdom, that the one bird should seek its food on the surface of the water, VOL. I morant feeds on fishes, which it pursues under water; and the backward position of the legs, it will be evident, must assist it most materially in diving after them. You will observe a difference, too, in the manner in which the foot is webbed in the two species; in the gull, the back-toe is very small, and not connected with the others; while in the cormorant it is not only of considerable length, but is united by a membrane to the other three, (as you may observe in the off foot of the figure) so that, in this bird, the whole four toes are webbed and connected together,-a circumstance which tends to give it great velocity, when diving in pursuit of prey. Montagu, speaking of a tame cormorant, observes, that, "it is almost incredible, to see with what dexterity this bird 'dives and seizes its prey: knowing its own powers under water, if a fish is thrown in at a great distance, it frequently dives immediately, and pursues its course under water, in a line to the spot: it is observed to fall with vast celerity; and, if the water is clear, takes the fish with certainty, and frequently before it falls to the bottom." But, in the natural state, how does the cormorant know where the prey is? If you were in a boat, even on the calmest day, you could not see a fish from a distance of twenty or thirty feet, at ten 6 or twelve below the surface, and still less if there were any breeze or ripple. Now how does the bird manage? The author just quoted states, that, when fishing, it always keeps its head under water, in order that it may the more clearly and certainly discover the prey. There is still something more in the foot of the cormorant but I must first explain to you what I mean by the foot of a bird; for, anatomically speaking, it consists of more than the part merely on which the bird rests. Observe a common fowl walking about, which is its leg? You point to the pillar covered by a scaly skin, which stands between the toes and the feathers. Now suppose that this fowl submits to the usual fate of its race; that it is killed and dressed, and that I request you to help me to a leg. Do you find any difference in the part you send me, from what you considered as the leg in the living fowl? In fact, you help me not to the leg only, but also to the thigh; while the naked part, which you considered as the leg in the living bird, is wanting altogether. From this you will see, that what you had considered as the knee is in reality the ankle or heel; that what is commonly called the drumstick is the leg, and the portion above it, which is attached to the side bone by the round ball, or head of the thigh bone, is the thigh. If you examine, then, the leg of a duck or goose, you will find, that though it is compressed at the sides, still it has considerable thickness in front. These birds, however, do not require to swim with great velocity; and, in fact, a slow and deliberate examination and search with their bills is the most usual way of obtaining their subsistence. But we may readily conceive that in a bird, which, like the cormorant, depends chiefly for its success in capturing its prey | on the rapidity with which the latter can be followed, such a leg would be less properly fitted, since it would offer considerable resistance and retard the velocity. Now here again we have an example of that wisdom which pervades every thing, whether the revolutions of worlds, the motions of a fly, or the structure of a bird. The cormorant's leg is so flattened on the sides, that the front edge, which cuts the water, is not thicker than the blade of a carving-knife.-Letters to a young Naturalist. FRENCH WIT AND ENGLISH SENSE. THE President Montesquieu and Lord Chesterfield became acquainted as they were travelling to Italy. On the road they began to dispute about the merits of their two nations. My lord allowed that the French had more wit than the English, but said they had no common sense. The president agreed to this; but they could not settle the difference between wit and common sense. Before the dispute was ended, they arrived at Venice. Here the president went about every where-saw every thing-asked questions-and talked to every body; and at night noted down his observations. you a visit to-day or to-morrow. Consider, Sir, if you have actually written any thing; that an innocent line, if misinterpreted, may cost you your life. That is all I have to say, and I now take my leave. The only recompense which I ask for a service which I think of some importance, is, that if you meet me in the streets you will not recognize me; and that in case it is too late to save you from being taken, you will not inform against me."-So saying he disappeared, leaving the poor President in great alarm, His first movement was to run to his secretary, snatch the papers, and throw them into the fire. Scarcely was that done, when in came Lord Chesterfield. He soon saw that his friend was in trouble, and asked him what could have happened. The president related what had happened; said, that he had burnt his papers, and ordered a post-chaise to be ready at three o'clock in the morning, that he might quickly leave a place where a few moments longer stay might be fatal. Lord Chesterfield listened calmly to all this, and then said: "this is all very well, my dear president, but let us sit down and examine your adventure with our heads cool and calm.”—“You are joking," said the President, "it is impossible for one's head to be at ease when it hangs only by a thread."" But, pray," said the earl, "who is this man who has so generously exposed himself to danger to save you from it? This seems not very natural: he may be a Frenchman; but the love of one's country does not lead men to travel into dangers which lie out of their way, especially for the sake of a person who is unknown to them. This man was not a friend of yours?"-"No!"-"Was he badly dressed?"-"Yes; very badly."—" Did he ask you for money?"—“ Not a farthing."—"Why that is still more extraordinary : but whence did he learn all that he told you?"-“Oh! I don't know at all; perhaps from the inquisitors themselves."—" Absurd," said the earl, “that council is the most secret in the world, and he is not the man to get near them."-" Perhaps he is one of their spies," said the President.-" Perhaps not," said the earl: "can one suppose a foreigner to be a spy, and that spy clad like a beggar while he is employed in a calling for which he must be well paid; and, again, that spy betrays his masters to you at the hazard of being strangled if you inform against him, or if he is suspected of having assisted you to escape! It's all a joke, depend upon it, my friend."- "What can it be, then?" said the President."—" I am thinking about it," said the earl. Having puzzled themselves to no purpose, the president still persisted in leaving the place immediately: when Lord Chesterfield, after walking about the room, apparently in a deep study, stopped short, and putting his hand to his forehead, as if a sudden thought had struck him, said, very gravely: "President, listen to me: an idea has just come into my head. Yes! that must be the man : I have not the least doubt of it!"-" What man?" said An hour or two after, a Frenchman, shabbily dress- the President; "if you know who he is, pray tell me ed, came into his room, and addressed him thus: quickly."-" Oh! yes," was the answer; "I know Sir, I am a countryman of yours. I have lived here him well enough: he was sent by one Lord Chesterthese twenty years, but I have always kept up my friend-field, who wished to prove to you by experience, that ship towards my countrymen; and I always think myself too happy when I have an opportunity of serving them, as I have you to day. You may do any thing in this country, except meddle with affairs of state. One thoughtless word costs a person his head; and you have already spoken a thousand. The State Inquisitors have their eyes upon you; their spies are following you every where: they note down your plans, and they know that you are going to write a book. To my certain knowledge they intend to pay an ounce of common sense is worth a hundred weight of wit."-The president never forgave him for the joke.-DIDEROT'S Memoirs. A TRUE STORY. YES! I remember him well, though more than twenty years have elapsed. I had many opportunities of observing his short, neat figure; his small regular features; his dark complexion, and thick black hair. |