parishes, two or three farmers have come and swallowed up farms, formerly occupied by probably fifty farmers. Nothing is more common than to see a man occupying, land, which formed, not more than thirty, forty, or fifty years ago, twenty farms. Three, four, or five farms, made into one, is a thing to be seen everywhere. And yet, as I observed before, the population of the villages is decreased. In going through a village, in almost any part of the country, except where the funds or the manufacturing establishments have an influence, you are sure to see ten houses almost falling down, for every one that you see building. In numerous instances, I found, in my rides during the last fall, houses quitted, from the danger of their falling down; and I very seldom found that any new house was building in the stead. I went into scarcely any agricultural village, where I did not see the old bricks and other rubbish of a house or two, that had recently stood upon the spot where the rubbish now

was.

On the outskirts of almost all the villages, you find still remaining small enclosures of land, each of which has manifestly had its house formerly. They are generally in pasture at this time; but, if you look attentively at the ground, you will see unevennesses which shew you that here are the relics of the foundations of houses; while, if you look at the fences, you will see gooseberry, currant, or raspberry bushes, making their appearance here and there. In the middle of such little plots of ground, you frequently see old pear-trees or apple-trees, or the stumps of them, remaining. All these are so many proofs of a greatly diminished, and of a still diminishing, population.

"It is possible that as much human sustenance may be produced in these agricultural parishes as there used to be, though the number of hands may be much smaller. It is very well known, that horses and tackle now do, in many cases, what was formerly done by the hand of man. But that there was more land in cultivation formerly than there is now, nobody can doubt. They produce to us the long list of enclosure bills; but it is curious enough that they never tell us, that the far greater part of this land was cultivated formerly, without any enclosure bill at all. If the Parliament would lay out a few thousand pounds of our money, in order to ascertain how many hundreds of thousands of acres

of land was in cultivation before the Revolution, more than is in cultivation now, I should not grudge that money, as I do the money laid out in Population Returns. However, the great proof, the undeniable proof, of depopulation, throughout a considerable part of the kingdom, is this fact -that there are nearly a third part of the whole of the churches, which, if the population were the same, when the churches were built, that it is now, those churches

were built by crazy people. They were built without any reason for building them. Many of them stand within a mile of each other; and it frequently happens, that the two parishes do not now contain people enough, allowing for sick people, and little children, and for those that must stay at home to take care of the house or of the cattle-it frequently happens that the two parishes do not, if you make these allowances, contain people enough to fill one pew! It is monstrous, then, to suppose that these parishes have not, in a great measure, been depopulated. How are we to believe, that people could have built churches, unless there had been numbers sufficient to fill them! It is not in one, two, or three, but in hundreds of instances, that the churches are now wholly gone.***

"The size, the size of the churchesthis alone would be enough to convince. any man of sound judgment, that there has been a prodigious decrease in the population of a great part of the kingdom. The curious Return of which I have spoken above, professes to have in view to ascertain how many people the several churches will hold. So that one naturally is inclined to look, with a good deal of curiosity, to what is said upon this subject, in cases where the population is reduced to a mere nothing. Let us take a little list here. The parish of BREMHILLHAM contains sixteen persons altogether. The parish is a rectory. The parson is required to write down, 'number of persons they can contain ;' that is to say, number of persons the churches can contain. Now, this parson of BREMHILLHAM states in his answer, that his church will contain the population; that is to say, his church is capable of holding sixteen persons, supposing the whole of the people of the parish to be at church at one time. Now, sixteen grown-up men can stand in a space four feet square. We know that six can sit in a stage-coach; and yet this parson tells us, that his church ⚫ can contain the population' of his parish. What, then, is there a double meaning here? Is there a little bit of the Jesuit played off among us sincere Protestants ? The church can contain the population; but the pious pastor does not say that it can contain no more! But this was not the question: the question was, what number of persons they can contain; that is to say, how many persons can your church contain? This is the amount of the question; and, notwithstanding this, it is stated, in this Return, that the church can contain 'the population,' in the case of scores of parishes, where the population is under forty. Perhaps there is not a church in England, the porch of which would not hold twenty men. Certainly not one, the chancel of which would not hold a hundred men, standing upright; and, perhaps, there is not one that would not hold more than three hundred. We have seen above,

6

that there are eight people living in SHARNCUT, in the Return, the rector (for this is a rectorial living) says that his church can hold eight people! And this he signs with his name; and it is sent to the bishop; and the bishop sends it to the King in council; and the King in council lays it before Parliament. So that, here is the Parliament informed, and here is the nation taxed to pay for the printing of the information, that there is a church at SHARNCUT, in Wiltshire, that can contain' eight living souls a whole eight of them, at one and the same time. After this, it must be a pretty beastly people to be guided by these Returns. The thing to remark with regard to this Return, is the cavalier-like impudence of it. It is manifest that the question was intended to get an account of what number each church would contain, when it was sufficiently filled. There was no sense in the question if this was not the object of it; and yet, here is a man to take his pen and write down the figure eight, against this question, and send it off to the bishop without any ceremony. In all probability his church would contain several hundreds of persons. I never yet saw a church that would not. It is very seldom, indeed, that the meanest and most miserable country church is less, in the clear, than fifty feet long. Cut off a bit for a belfry, and leave a piece for the communion-table, and you have still a room thirty feet long, at least, and from fifteen to twenty feet wide. Two rows of people, sitting on benches up the middle of this room, will make three score. There are about fifteen or sixteen pews generally in such a place. It must be a miserable hole that has not a gallery to contain a hundred. Add a few cross benches here and there. But why need I make any such calculations, when it is notorious, that Methodist meeting-houses, not a quarter part so big as the smallest church in the kingdom, contain two or three hundred

persons each."

"The size of the churches is a thing of great consequence. We find them, throughout the agricultural part of the country, to be out of all reason too large. I have shewn that there are many hundreds of parishes, the whole population of each of which might be placed in the porches of the church. I have given instances of several parishes, the present population of each of which might be put into a stage-coach. I have given instances, or, at least, have stated, that there are hundreds and hundreds of parishes, the present population of each of which do not amount to a hundred; and that there are several thousands of parishes, the present population of which does not

amount to two hundred. There were about ten thousand churches in England; and, at this very moment, the whole of the present population could, except in those parts where men have been drawn together by the paper-money, be not only accommodated with these churches, but, with the help of a little straw in each parish, actually hidden under the roofs of these churches.

"Back I come then, after exhibiting all these very suspicious circumstances relative to these Clerical Returns; back I come to inquire once more, what ground there can be for supposing that the population of England has increased? Here we have a whole list of parishes actually wasting away to nothing. This is a fact that it is impossible to deny; and yet you, and your patrons the boroughmongers, insist upon it that there is an increase of the population; and, what is more, a great part of the public believe you. This is one of those falsehoods that men tell till they believe it to be true themselves. There have been several of these great national lies.”

I have omitted about as much more of abuse, as I have quoted of argument. Indeed, if Cobbett did not render it impossible for himself to be read by weighing his books down with unnecessary filth, who would be the fool to

make extracts from such a writer as he is?

Before I leave him, I must not omit to take notice of the great service which he really appears to have been doing in the introduction of the platting of straw for hats. But as his Cottage Economy, in which this matter is abundantly explained, ought to be in every cottage in the empire,* I shall do for once Cobbett has had the merit of no more than say, once for all, that introducing a great good, unclogged with even the least of evil. I am heartily pleased to hear that the new manufacture is getting the name of "the Cobbett Platt." He deserves the compliment; and I should not be much surprised if this were to be the salvation of his NAME after all the books he has written are forgotten.

For forgotten they cannot fail to be! It is indeed a melancholy truth, that every author diminishes his chance of surviving in the ratio wherein he increases (after a certain limit, of course, I mean,) the bulk of his works. How little is this thought of in this thricebookish age! Had Swift concentrated all his wit in one volume, or in three volumes, would not his book have been

in every man's, woman's and child's hand, wherever, and to whatever age, the English tongue is spoken! Instead of that, we have a book in twenty volumes, price five or six guineas! The same way with Dryden-the same way withMilton-the same waywithShakespeare himself to a certain extent and, if Shakespeare had written two or three hundred plays, instead of two or three dozen, (which he would have done had his time been like ours,) what would have been the consequence? It is this that gives the ancient classics one of their great advantages. I can carry my Horace, my Sallust, my Virgil even, my whole Virgil, in my pocket. But Cobbett ! there is, indeed, the depth of despair. His good things lie scattered over such a surface -to speak in his own way, there is such a wilderness about every settlement, that I fear there is but a slender chance of future times doing any measure of justice to one, who, with all his faults, has the intellect and the language of an English classic.

That poor devil, FEARON, (in his Sketches,) gives, on the whole, a fair account of Cobbett's exterior, and, I should think, even of his manner although I by no means take his word for anything beyond this: indeed Cobbet's book has completely negatived him quoad alia. I myself never saw this extraordinary character but once-It was at a county meeting in Hampshire, in the days of poor Lord Cochrane. He is perhaps the very man whom I would select from all I have ever seen if I wished to shew a foreigner the beau ideal of an English yeoman. He was then, I should suppose, at least fifty years of age; but plump, and as fresh as possible. His hair was worn smooth on his forehead, and displayed a few curls, nut-brown then, but probably greyish by this time, about his ears. There is something very firm and stately in his step and port-at least there was so in those days. You could see the serjeant blended with the farmer in every motion of his body. His eye is small, grey, quiet, and good-tempered-perfectly mild-You would say, "there is a sweet old boy-butter would not melt in his mouth." He was dressed the day I saw him, in brown coat, waistcoat, and breeches, all of the same piece-a scarlet under-waistcoat, a drab great-coat hanging wide, and fastened before by a "flying strap," topboots of a true work-like pattern, and VOL. XIV.

not new, but well cleaned (another relic probably of his camp-habits,)-he had strong grey worsted gloves, and a stout ash plant in his hand. If he had not been pointed out to me by one who knew him, I should probably have passed him over as one of the innocent bacon-eaters of the New forest; but when I knew that it was Cobbett, you may believe I did not allow his placid easy eye and smile to take me in.

I was excessively sorry, that, being entangled with a party of young squires and parsons, I could have no chance of getting into Cobbett's company. I am no beer-drinker; but if Cobbett will drink nothing else, I should certainly be most happy to crack a pot with him. They say he is coming to Scotland soon; and I hope, as Messrs Brougham and Denman are to have a public dinner, he may not want the same compliment. Yours, T. T.

Southside, Sept. 10, 1823.

P. S.-I forgot to say at the proper place, that I don't believe one syllable of Cobbett's story about his own pecuniary distresses, &c. &c. How should he have fallen into poverty? For many years, as it was proved upon one of his trials for libel, he was in the receipt of L.60 a-week, as editor of his Register. He was all the while a farmer too, and, according to himself, a skilful and a successful one. Where did all the money go to? I have, in short, no sort of doubt that Cobbett's nest is very comfortably feathered.

What is this story of Cobbett's going to settle in France? I can't believe a word of it. He may take a run thither for a few weeks; and, indeed, his recent praises of the Bourbons, and of catholicism, look very like as if he had some such matter in his head: But quit old England for good and all? give up the Register? cease from writing and abusing? I cannot believe any such miracles-they would beat Prince Humbughohe all to nothing.

And yet, good gracious! if it should be so in right earnest-if William Cobbett should really become a member of the holy Roman Church, and a French proprietaire-Imagine that termination to that career! Monsieur le Compte de Cobbette! or M. le Marquis, maybe! Sir Gregor Macgregor's Serene Highness-ship was nothing to this Signiory.

2 T

MY DEAR CHRISTOPHER, I NEVER was more surprised and displeased in my life, than, upon the receipt of your last Magazine, to find no notice taken in it of the anniversary of the King's visit to Scotland. I verily and truly thought that the new Baronet, your Provost, would have given an entertainment on the occasion; that the Corporation would have made it a matter of conscience to dine publicly and together on that day; or, at least, that you yourself would have had a snug party at Ambrose's,-to all, or some one of which I expected to be invited, and had actually engaged a post-chaise that I might not disappoint you, my friend Sir William, or myself. But the day approached, letter after letter arrived, in course of post as they say, but no invitation, or the semblance of one, reached my quarters. It then struck me that some subscription business would take place at Oman's, to which you did not think it worth while for me to come so far; but no such thing, as far as I understand, was ever agitated.

This is passing strange, Christopher. Have the bailies, old and new, lost their stomachs-the trades and merchant counsellors the faculty of deglutition-or the deacons of the incorporated trades the power of mastication? And was there no patriotic butcher, vintner, or dealer in wines, in the council, to whom a dinner might have been an acceptable job? Are the Magistrates of our loyal city turned Whigs all at once? And will posterity believe that a civilized corporation could solace their stomachs with Crawley spring water on such a day, and let so fair an opportunity pass without a jollification? Is there no loyalty but in Leith -no public spirit but with the unpoetical names of Macfie and Reoch ?

My dear Christopher, it is a perfect disgrace to the intellectual city-a stain not to be wiped away from Edinburgh for a century at least. On the 15th of August the King landed upon your shores-held courts at your ancient palace of Holyrood-House-made your provost a baronet-shook hands with yourself-was kind to every one-and

you, with your Athenian pretensions and your Parthenons, to allow the merchants of your sea-port, the men of tar, potashes, molasses, rum, sugar, hemp, and tallow, to run before you in the road of loyalty, and read you a lesson in the bienseances of civilized life! You don't deserve a King; and I ain almost ashamed to call you Scotsmen. The Whigs were, no doubt, glad at this want of respect in our city rulers. Joseph Hume and the Stot may even praise them for abstinence; and the King himself, God bless him, who thinks ill of nobody, may not much mind the, I hope, unintentional neglect. But will you, Christopher, the champion of loyalty the pillar of the church -and the friend of all that is great and good in human nature-will you, my dear friend, ever forgive yourself, for not stepping forward and putting your public in mind of their duty,or, at least, setting the example in Ambrose's, of joyous loyalty, by a commemoration banquet among the intellectual censors of public opinion and public morals?

I should not have minded though I was not there, if you or Sir William had held a chapter of good fellows. My not receiving an invitation would only have saved me eighty miles posting, and the loss of a week's recreation; and I expect to see, in the forthcoming Maga, notwithstanding all I have said of you personally, that in defiance of my supicions, you were as happy on the 15th as good meat, good drink, good appetites, and loyalty, could make you, But tell your provost and bailies that they ought either to have given or patronised a royal, jovial public dinner. Your town ought to have been illuminated, and all the bells set a ringing. The population should have been regaled with oxen roasted whole, and good beer, in the King's Park; and Mr Murray should have opened the doors of the Theatre gratis, and given all poor devils, who can't afford to pay for it, the sight of a good play, and regaled them with "God save the King."

Contrast your conduct, my dear fellow, with the Whigs, whom you and I despise. I see by the newspapers,