be considered by a foreigner as among the most remarkable features of English life. Among the upper and middle classes generally, the pleasures of the table are much, perhaps too much, cultivated; dinner, in particular, being generally followed by an abundance of the wines of Portugal, Madeira, and Germany. The lower classes also live, in general, on substantial fare; their favorite beverages are ale and porter; while quoits, cricket, and ninepins, may be described as their most common amuse

ments.

CHAPTER IV.

PROGRESS OF POPULATION.-HEALTH AND LONGEVITY.

THE population of England in the time of the Plantagenet sovereigns is believed to have been little more than two millions. It has been estimated at 5,500,000 in 1696. The progress during the greater part of the eighteenth century was slow; the amount in 1760 is supposed to have been about 6,500,000. In 1801, for the first time, a regular census was taken; and this has been repeated once in ten years ever since, giving the following results:

Being nearly a doubling since the beginning of the present century. The rapid advance of the population is placed in a striking light, when we consider that, for the United Kingdom, it is nearly a thousand per day. Within the last ten years emigration has been proceeding on a scale of unprecedented magnitude; yet, even in the years during which it has been most active, it has not been sufficient to drain the country at one third of the rate at which its population has been increased by new births. This rapid increase of numbers clearly shows that, whatever partial evils there may be in the condition of the people, the country must, upon the whole, have enjoyed for forty years a high degree of prosperity; for it is quite insupposable, that with stationary resources so many new mouths could have been fed, unless there had been, what certainly there has not been, a large and general deterioration in the style of living. It is to be remarked, however, that an immigration to a great extent from Ireland has been going on for about twenty years, and that generally the Irish settlers continue in England to live in a style little superior to that which they followed in their own country.

The increased population has chiefly taken place in the manufacturing towns. It was calculated by Mr. M'Culloch, in 1831, that nearly a third of the people live in towns of above ten thousand inhabitants. Most of the large cities have experienced a rapid advance of population within the last twenty years. These circumstances serve to show that it is the development of the manufacturing, and not of the agricultural energies of the country, which has mainly tended to increase the population. In 1831, it was ascertained that the total number of persons above twenty years of age engaged in any kind of business or professional employment, was three millions three hundred and ninety-four thousand six hundred and ninety. Of these, one million seventy-five thousand nine hundred and twelve were engaged in agriculture; one million three hundred and twenty-seven thousand seven hundred and twenty-seven in trade and manufactures; and nine hundred and ninety-one thousand and fifty-one in other pursuits. Of the last number, one hundred and eighty-five thousand one hundred and eighty-seven were capitalists, bankers, and professional and other educated men. In this part of the account we also find the army and navy and male servants. "It may thus be seen," says an intelligent writer, "how very small is the

number of persons arrived at maturity, who are not employed in some one or other of the occupations whereby the sum of the national wealth or convenience is advanced."

With regard to the rate of mortality in England, no certain conclusions were in the hands of the public till the commencement of a general registry of births, marriages, and deaths, in 1836-7. In the first year of the operation of this system, the burials were three hundred and thirty-five thousand nine hundred and fifty-six, which, if we suppose the population to have then been fifteen millions and one half, would give one in forty-six per annum as the rate of mortality for the whole country, being considerably more than previous imperfect calculations had made it. There are considerable local variations in the rate of mortality, in accordance with peculiar circumstances. In the last half of the year 1837, the deaths out of three millions five hundred and fifty-three thousand one hundred and sixty-one persons, living in large cities, were forty-seven thousand nine hundred and fifty-three; and out of three millions five hundred thousand seven hundred and fifty-one persons, living chiefly in rural situations, only thirty-four thousand and seventy-four, or as nearly thirty-four to forty-seven. For this so much greater mortality in cities, we must look, first, to that custom which prevails of retiring in old age and sickness from country to town, and, secondly, to the filth, deficient ventilation, destitution, and vicious habits of life, which prevail in large towns. It is remarkable that London is healthier than most of the other large towns. The proportion who died at seventy out of one thousand persons was, in London, one hundred and four; but in Birmingham it was eighty-one, in Leeds seventy-nine, and in Liverpool and Manchester only sixty-three.

Out of one thousand deaths in the counties of Dorset, Devon, and Wilts, and in Wales, one hundred and eighty are of children under one year; but in Leeds and its neighborhood, in the mining districts of Staffordshire and Shropshire, and in the fenny lowlands of Lincoln, Cambridge, and Huntingdonshire, the number was two hundred and seventy, giving token of a great local discrepancy in the sanitory condition of the English population. After deducting the diseases of infancy, the most fatal maladies in England are consumption, fever, and dysentery. One eighth of the whole deaths, subject to the above deduction, are ascribed to the first of these diseases.

CHAPTER V.

REMARKABLE NATURAL SCENERY.-NATURAL CURIOSITIES.

THE natural scenery of England is generally of a pleasing, rather than a grand or picturesque character; yet there are some portions of the country which are considered attractive on account of their romantic beauty. We shall notice the chief of these.

The southwest part of the county of Cumberland, and the northwest part of Westmoreland, comprehend a range of lofty mountains-Skiddaw, Saddleback, Helvellyn, and some others of scarcely less note-amid which lie the lakes for which this district of England has long been celebrated. The largest of these are Ullswater, Windermere, Thirlmere, Derwentwater, and Bassenthwaite; but some of less size, as Buttermere, Crummock water, Loweswater, Leatheswater, Ennerdale, Wastwater, and Devock lake, are scarcely less admired. The vales or passes among the hills likewise contain much beautiful scenery of a wild character, although perhaps only traversed by a brawling mountain rill.

The ascent of Skiddaw is long, but easy: a lady may ride to the top and down again without even dismounting. It is the fourth English mountain in height, being 3,022 feet above the sea, and 2,800 above the lake of Bassenthwaite, which lies close at its foot. In respect of view, it is inferior to several points of smaller height, owing to its position nearly on the outside of the mountain district, and the absence of crags and precipices on the mountain itself. The gradual opening of the vale of Keswick

as we ascend is, however, extremely beautiful; and the view is finer three quarte. up than on the summit. To the north and east a large tract of low moor extends, and the northern distance also is tame and level. The top of Skiddaw is formed by a ridge, which runs north and south about half a mile, with no great difference of elevation. The highest point visible from Keswick and Derwentwater is not the summit, but the southern end of this ridge. An English traveller has given the following interesting description of a visit to this mountain :

"I once witnessed, with three companions, an atmospheric phenomenon on this mountain, rare in England, but not unfamiliar, it is said, on the Hartz mountains in Germany, where its occurrence is supposed to have given rise to the superstitious legends of the giant of the Brocken. We set out late in a fine August night to reach the top of Skiddaw before sunrise. There was no moon, but the stars shone brilliantly; and as we rose up the steep hill-side overhanging Applethwaite, the lake and valley became slowly more and more distinct, in the cold, leaden hue of early twilight. As often happens after the finest nights, the floating vapors were suddenly condensed, and by the time we reached the table-land near the top, we were envel oped in a thick white mist, cold and uncomfortable, which confined our sight to a circle of a few yards diameter. Suddenly the white fog took a beautiful rose color, produced probably, like the last hues of evening, by the greater refractive power of the red rays, as the first beams of the sun shot above the horizon. This very soon vanished. One of the party was a short distance in advance, when a ray of sunshine darted through the mist, and he saw a figure walking ten or fifteen yards distant from his side. Taking it for granted that this was one of his companions, whom he had supposed at some distance, he vented some expression of disappointment, and, receiving no answer, repeated it again and again. Still there was no answer, though the figure kept steadily advancing with even steps. At last he stopped, half angry, and turned quite round to look at his silent companion, who did the same, but receded as he approached; and it became evident that the figure, apparently dimly seen through the mist, was his own shadow reflected on it. It was then surrounded by a bright halo, and as the light became stronger, grew less and less distinct. The rest of the party came up in time to witness this remarkable appearance with some modification. On reaching the ridge of the mountain, our figures, of superhuman size, appeared to be projected on the mist in the direction of the Solway."

The tract of moor which lies between Skiddaw and Saddleback, bounded by High Pike and Carrock on the north, is called Skiddaw forest: it is traversed by the upper part of the Caldew river. In Bowscale Fell, as the northern part of the great mass of Saddleback is called, lies Bowscale Tarn, which sends a tributary to the Caldew. This tarn is the seat of a singular superstition, being supposed (or perhaps we should say, having been supposed) by the country people to be inhabited by two immortal fish. Mr. Wordsworth does not tell us in what fairy tale of transformation, or in what other way, the belief originated. Saddleback itself is a round-shouldered mountain of great extent, but no beauty of form, except as seen from the south, where the serrated precipices above Threlkeld rival those of Helvellyn. One of these is called Razor Edge, over which there is a magnificent view. Another noticeable point is the top of that wild ravine, down which the great waterspout, many years ago, descended upon Threlkeld, sweeping away part of the village. It is still a strange scene of ruin; and its effect is increased by a singular twist, caused by some convulsion, in the dip of the strata. The view down into Scales Tarn, deep-scated among crags, is awfully grand. In fact, Saddleback, though not ascended by one person for ten that go up Skiddaw, is better worth the ascent.

The ascent of Helvellyn may be conveniently performed from Patterdale. A lady, with a little management, taking the track up Glenridding to the lead mines, may ride within a quarter or half a mile of the summit; immediately under which, at a depth of six hundred and fifty feet, lies Red Tarn, enclosed within the sweep of two sharp ridges, called Striding Edge and Swirrel Edge, which project from the mountain. The former is, in some parts, as sharp as the roof of a house. One of the paths from Patterdale leads along it; but it requires some nerve and steadiness to traverse this giddy height, the top of which, in many places, is said scarcely to afford room to plant the foot. Swirrel Edge, the northern of the two, is crowned by the conical hill called Catchedicam. It was here that the remarkable instance of brute fidelity, which has been recorded both by Wordsworth and Scott, was shown in a dog, which