of a mind evidently well stored with accurate facts, and enthusiastic in the admiration of the works of nature. Its illustrations are numerous, and consist of the woodcuts of Milne Edwards's French work on the same subject. Next to the actual objects themselves, good illustrations are indispensable to the student of natural history. During the past season, an unusual number of those jelly-looking creatures called medusæ, or sea-nettles, have swarmed along our shores. They are amongst the simplest and lowest of the scale of animated beings, and are thus described : There is much in the structure of these creatures to excite our surprise. Their frail and gelatinous bodies seem little else than a mass of vivified sea-water, or some analogous fluid. "For," says Professor Owen, "let this fluid part of a large medusa, which may weigh two pounds when recently removed from the sea, drain from the solid parts of the body, and these, when dried, will be represented by a thin film of membrane, not exceeding thirty grains in weight." They baffle the skill of the anatomist by the very simplicity of their structure. Feeble as they appear, fishes and crustacea are quickly dissolved in their stomachs. The organism of their stinging power is yet but imperfectly understood, and the luminosity which many species possess, equally demands investigation. They are found in all seas, and please the eye both by their glassy transparency and by their brilliant hues. Some are furnished with a central peduncle, and resemble a mushroom with its stalk; others have its place supplied by prehensile arms some have one simple central mouth; in others both its structure and position are different: in some the margin is furnished with long contractile tentacula, whence the well-known stinging secretion is supplied; in others this formidable apparatus is altogether wanting. These differences, which are easily observable, enable the naturalist to classify the gelatinous medusæ, for such is their collective appellation. Their locomotion is effected by the contraction and expansion of the outer margin of the disc, the animal striking the water in the opposite direction to that in which it is moving. The motion is easy and graceful, admitting of progress in any direction. The lower surface of the disc is covered with a delicate network of vessels, in which the circulating fluids are exposed to the oxygen contained in the sea-water. Each contraction of the margin, therefore, not only impels the animal in its course, but assists in the process of respiration. 'The medusæ differ extremely in size. Some are occasionally thrown upon our coast which are as large as a good-sized umbrella; many are not larger than peas; and some scarcely exceed in dimensions the head of a large-sized pin. Some species are adorned with brilliant colours, and equal in the richness of their hues the brightest of our garden flowers. When from a small boat, in a glassy and transparent sea, they are beheld rising and falling at pleasure, and occasionally turning over in the apparent exuberance of enjoyment, they form objects of contemplation so very attractive, as to excite the astonishment of the child, while they furnish matter for the contemplation of the naturalist. 'The species of medusa most abundant on our coasts during the early part of the summer (Cyanea aurita), is well known by the four conspicuous lunar or heartshaped figures which it exhibits. These are of a pinkish or purplish colour, and are, in fact, the ovaries. Four pouches are observed on the lower surface of the body. To these the young, at a certain period, are transferred from the ovaries, and undergo a species of development analogous to that of the young quadrupeds of Australia in the marsupial pouch of the mother. After changes in their size and colour, they exhibit a change of form, become clothed with vibratile cilia, and leaving the maternal pouch, swim freely about, the larger extremity being always in advance. The little creature soon attaches itself to some fixed object, and four arms appear, surrounding a central mouth. The arms lengthen, four additional ones are developed, all are highly contractile, covered with cilia, and actively employed in the capture of food. The number of these arms increases until it reaches twenty-four or thirty; and the body, originally about the size of a grain of sand, becomes a line, or the twelfth part of an inch in length. During the winter months, it remains in security "where the waves have no strife," and even throws out germs or buds, which in time become perfect medusæ. But with the approach of spring, the body becomes marked with transverse lines, which gradually assume a wrinkled or furrowed appearance. These furrows become deeper, dividing the body into from ten to fifteen distinct portions, which for a time remain in contact, but without organic connexion, "like piled-up cups." After complete separation, each part swims freely about, presenting an appearance so unique, that the young in this state has been figured and described as belonging to a new genus. The last change observable is its putting on the appearance of the perfect animal, and under the influence of the sun, the waves, and the currents, becoming a mature medusa. "We thus see," says Professor Owen, "that a medusa may actually be generated three successive times, and by as many distinct modes of generation-by fertile ova, by gemmation, and by spontaneous fission-before attaining its mature condition." 'With regard to the medusæ, we may mention an anecdote which we learned from an eminent zoologist [E. Forbes], now a professor in one of the English universities. He had, a few years ago, been delivering some zoological lectures in a seaport town in Scotland [St Andrews], in the course of which he had adverted to some of the most remarkable points in the economy of the acalephæ. After the lecture, a farmer who had been present came forward and inquired if he had understood him correctly, as having stated that the medusæ contained so little of solid material, that they might be regarded as little else than a mass of animated sea-water? On being answered in the affirmative, he remarked that it would have saved him many a pound had he known that sooner, for he had been in the habit of employing his men and horses in carting away large quantities of jelly-fish from the shore, and using them as manure on his farm, and he now believed they could have been of little more real use than an equal weight of sea-water. Assuming that so much as one ton weight of medusa, recently thrown on the beach, had been carted away in one load, it will be found that, according to the experiments already mentioned, the entire quantity of solid material would be only about four pounds avoirdupois weight-an amount of solid material which, if compressed, the farmer might with ease have carried home in one of his coat pockets!' The waters of the ocean teem with life in a variety of forms. We cannot take up a glassful of this element without including many beings of interest. The cheapness of the pleasures which natural history affords, should of itself form a reason for the general cultivation of such pursuits. They are within the reach of the most humble, and are not dependent on costly or complicated apparatus. By means so simple as a glass of sea-water, we have caused the balani or acorn-shells to exhibit a series of movements, which we have never shown to the youth of either sex without hearing from them expressions of the most unfeigned delight. Let the reader try the experiment. Go at low water to a rock on the beach, choose a few of the oldest and largest limpets left uncovered by the receding tide, and incrusted with the acorn shells. As the enclosed animals have then been without nourishment for two or three hours, they will be quite ready for another meal. Throw the limpet-shells into the glass of sea-water, and in a minute or two the acorn-shells upon them will begin to open. Presently a beautiful feathered apparatus will be extended, then withdrawn. It will again be put forth, and again retracted; but with such grace, regularity, and precision, that the eye regards it "with ever new delight." And when the same exquisite mechanism is exhibited by every one of them, either in succession or simultaneously, and when we consider that it thus ministers at the same moment both to respiration and nutrition, a train of ideas is excited which rises from the humble shell to Him by whom it has thus wondrously been fashioned.' FACTS FOR THE CURIOUS. THE moon, when at full, reflects upon the earth only about one three-thousandth part of the light of the sun; and the lunar rays, even when concentrated by a powerful lens, and the focus directed upon the bulb of a delicate thermometer, do not affect it in the slightest degree; hence the phrase, the pale cold moon,' is not only poetically beautiful, but philosophically correct. The volume or bulk of carbonic acid gas expired by a healthy adult in twenty-four hours is said to amount to 15,000 cubic inches, containing about six ounces of solid carbon. This is at the rate of 137 pounds avoirdupois per annum; and taking the total population of the globe at seven hundred and sixty millions, the amount of solid carbon or charcoal every year produced by the human race will exceed 46,482,143 tons! Adding to this all the carbon produced by the combustion of fires and gas-lights, by the decay of animal and vegetable matter, the exhalations from springs, &c. there need be no marvel as to the source whence plants derive their solid or woody material (which is principally carbon), seeing that their leaves are specially fitted for the absorption of carbonic acid gas from the surrounding atmosphere. In Britain, the deposition of dew from the atmosphere is generally less during the continuance of an easterly than of westerly winds, a phenomenon attributable to the different nature of the surfaces over which these winds travel-the former crossing the continent of Europe, and thus becoming comparatively dry or arid; the latter sweeping across the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean, and therefore becoming moist or hydrated, requiring but little reduction of their temperature for the copious deposition of dew to ensue upon terrestrial objects. The atmosphere immediately incumbent upon the earth has the power of absorbing and retaining more of the blue rays of light than that at greater altitudes; and thus when we cast our eyes on high, we look through a volume of the densest air replete with blue light; and so likewise if we look abroad over an extensive tract of country, the horizon of which is formed by distant hills, they appear blue, or, in other words, they partake of the colour of the medium through which they are viewed. If we journey to them, the blue colour gradually vanishes, and at length their ordinary colours appear; and now, looking from the hills towards the spot from whence we journeyed, it in turn appears blue. The ridge called the 'Blue Mountains' in Australia, another of the same name in America, and many others elsewhere, are not really blue, for they possess all the diversity of scenery which their climates can give; but to the eye which first discovered them, bent on them generally from a distance, they all at first appeared blue, and they have retained the name. to break it completely down, and effectually kill it; therefore, when the sun has thawed the frosty rime from the fields, these foot-tracks appear brown and bare in the midst of the surrounding and flourishing green grass. The earth-speaking roundly-is 8000 miles in diameter; the atmosphere is calculated to be 50 miles in altitude; the loftiest mountain peak is estimated at 5 miles above the level of the sea, for this height has never been visited by man; the deepest mine that he has formed is 1650 feet; and his own stature does not average 6 feet. Therefore, if it were possible for him to construct a globe 800 feet-or twice the height of St Paul's cathedral-in diameter, and to place upon any one point of its surface an atom of 1-4380th of an inch in diameter, and 1-720th part of an inch in height, it would correctly denote the proportion that man bears to the earth upon which he moves. it requires, according to Meyen, at least five months of a With respect to the distribution and growth of the vine, mean heat of 59 degrees Fahrenheit to produce good wine. If September and October, the season when the grape fully ripens, have not this degree of heat, the wine is sour; and a country where this is the case is therefore unsuitable to the culture of the vine. The shores of the lake Titicaca, in Peru, 12,700 feet above the level of the sea, are enclosed by a thick forest of a beautiful rush, which plays an important part in the economy of the surrounding district. Indeed the people of that country would live in great wretchedness if nature had not bestowed on it these plants, for it lies far above the limit of trees, and only a few bushes grow in its neighbourhood. These rushes supply the natives not only with fuel, covering for their huts, and with matting, but they supply material for the construction of their rude balsas or boats, which are merely rush-woven, as are also the sails that waft them across the waters. The works in operation for draining the lake of Haarlem seem to have stimulated the ingenuity of the projectors to a still more gigantic undertaking, which may be safely characterised as the boldest enterprise of the age; namely, the drainage of the Zuyder Zee, which, according to a plan published at the Hague, is proposed to be effected by the construction of an immense dike, cutting off the communication with the North Sea, and by forming a canal between Amsterdam and the coast, into which are to be diverted the rivers which at present empty themselves into the Zuyder Zee. The expense of this undertaking is estimated at ten millions sterling. The reader may not be aware that the Zuyder Zee was at one time an inland freshwater lake, such as it is described by Pomponius Mela, and that its conversion into a gulf of the sea was effected in the thirteenth century, when violent storms destroyed the barrier still exist in the sandy islands and shoals between barrier between the ocean and the lake. Traces of this the Kelder and Ter Schelling. We perceive from the newspapers that the South-Eastern Railway Company have established their confidence in the practicability of the submarine telegraph, by making preparations to lay down a line between Folkstone and Boulogne ! DAVID RHYS, THE 'CHIEF MUSICIAN TO THE QUEEN OF 'In addition to the numerous mechanical uses of wood,' says Mr Griffiths, and its chemical use as a source of artificial heat, the chemist discovers that it is capable of a than David Rhys. Vain was it for any other harper to North Wales did not boast of a more perfect musician most curious change or transmutation into edible matter; enter into competition with him at Eisteddfodd, or in in fact, a kind of bread may be made from wood. This is bower or hall; he won all the prizes, and enchanted every effected by selecting the sawdust of the least resinous wood ear. -that of beech, for example-washing it with water to lowed; and in a fit of rage and jealousy they snapped the Other bards struck their harps, but no applause folremove all soluble matters, and then gently drying it in an wires, and threw their harps aside-at least so says David oven; after this, it is mixed with marshmallow juice, and Rhys. Lords, nay, even princes, offered David riches and formed into cakes, which are baked at a high tempera-honours if he would strike his harp within their halls; but ture; and these, reduced to fine powder, with the addition of a little corn flour and leaven, form a dough, which, when moulded into loaves, and baked, constitutes bread more palatable than that prepared in times of scarcity from bran and husks of corn.' Towards the end of autumn may be often observed in the fields marks of footsteps, which appear to have scorched the grass like heated iron: this phenomenon was formerly regarded with superstitious dread, but can now be explained upon very simple chemical principles. When the grass becomes crisp by frost, it is exceedingly brittle, and the foot of a man, or even of a child, is sufficiently heavy he loved his dear native country too well to be tempted to leave it for either honour or gold. Higher honour than however; for one lovely evening in summer, as he was any lord or even prince could bestow was in store for him, walking in this glen, and meditating on the beauties of nature, or every now and then striking a wild strain on his harp, he was somewhat startled by the sudden appearance of what he at that instant imagined to be a most beautiful little child. The smiling, bright-eyed boy came dancing up to David, and requested the harper to follow him to his father's hall, where, he said, a large party was assembled in the hope of hearing David's ravishing strains. David Rhys was little in the habit of following anything but his own pleasure; but he now felt as if he was spell-bound, and that, whether he liked it or not, he must follow this lovely infant wheresoever he might lead him. So, without asking a single question, he followed the child up the glen. He was obliged to run, to keep pace with his juvenile and nimble guide; but on turning into a path that led to the mountain, a mist suddenly enveloped them, and at the same instant David was assailed by a hundred wrymouthed elves,' who asked him whether he would travel above wind, below wind, or under wind. A soft voice whispered in his car, soar not too high; but beware how a mortal of your genius abases himself too low.' David instantly exclaimed, 'I will travel under wind!' Scarcely had he uttered the words, than he felt himself gently raised from the ground, and was borne softly and pleasantly through the regions of mist. After travelling in this luxurious style for some time, he suddenly felt that he was descending towards the earth; and just as his feet rested on it, the mist disappeared, and he found that he was standing at the bottom of a magnificent flight of marble steps, that led to the entrance-door of a most unearthlylooking mansion. His little guide was once more at his side, and conducted him up the steps; but when he threw open the door, a scene of such dazzling splendour burst upon his sight, that David was obliged to set down his harp, and veil his eyes with his hands. A chair of ivory and gold was brought for him, and after a little practice, he found he could bear the dazzling light, and began to look around him. He saw that he was surrounded by beings not of this world, for the height of the tallest of the numerous group did not exceed that of a child of two years of age. Both sexes were exquisitely formed; their complexions were alike fair and transparent; and their heads were covered with long and flowing ringlets. The females were attired in pale-green robes, with girdles of flowers, and with dew-drops that glittered like diamonds in their hair. The bard began to play, and his tiny audience to dance ; and so enchanting a sight, he declares, was never before vouchsafed to mortal eyes. A most delightful beverage was frequently handed to him in a small gold cup: it resembled nothing that he had ever tasted before, and seemed to inspire him with quite a magical touch on his harp. Midnight had long passed, and still the unwearied group danced on. At length trays of gold, covered with cups not bigger than those of the acorn, and filled with milk, were handed round, and the harper received permission to retire to his bed. His beautiful little guide came forward, and showed him the way to the luxurious chamber that had been prepared for him. David instantly threw himself on a couch formed of gold and ivory, and fell into a deep slumber. Picture to yourself his surprise and horror, on awaking early in the morning, shivering with cold, and aching in every limb, to find that he was lying on the cold ground, instead of a bed of down; and that not one stone was left of the splendid mansion in which, a few hours before, he had displayed his wondrous powers on the harp. But a moment's reflection banished all unpleasant feelings, and pride and exultation filled his heart; for he now felt convinced that his strains had been considered worthy the attention of immortal ears; and that he had spent the night in the presence of the king and the queen of the fairies, and all their attendants, he could no longer doubt. A proud man from henceforth was David Rhys; and many a good horn of ale has he won by relating this adventure, in hall or kitchen, on a winter's night.-Llewelyn's Heir, or North Wales. NOTHING IN VAIN. Although it was midsummer, the snow where we stood was from twenty to one hundred and twenty feet deep, but blown by the wind into the most irregular forms, while in some places the black rock was visible. Beneath was the river and valley of Maypo, fed by a number of tributary streams, which we could see descending like small silver threads down the different ravines. We appeared to have a bird's-eye view of the great chain of the Andes, and we looked down upon a series of pinnacles of indescribable shapes and forms, all covered with eternal snow. The whole scene around us in every direction was devoid of vegetation, and was a picture of desolation on a scale of magnificence which made it peculiarly awful. But the knowledge that this vast mass of snow, so cheerless in appearance, was created for the use, and comfort, and happiness, and even luxury of man; that it was the inexhaustible reservoir from which the plains were supplied with water made us feel that there is no spot in crcation which man should term barren, though there are many which nature never intended for his residence.-Sir Francis Head. ROBERT BRUCE CROWNED BY THE COUNTESS THE Bruce is on his bended knee-a king, without a throne; Be thou! Go forth and fight for us, and God defend the right!' HINTS ABOUT BEDROOMS. D. M. M. insalubrious; and the case is rendered worse by close winTheir small size and their lowness render them very dows and thick curtains and hangings, with which the beds are often so carefully surrounded, as to prevent the possibility of the air being renewed. The consequence is, that we are breathing vitiated air during the greater part of the night; that is, during more than a third part of our lives: and thus the period of repose, which is necessary for the renovation of our mental and bodily vigour, becomes a source of disease. Sleep under such circumstances is very often disturbed, and always much less refreshing than when enjoyed in a well-ventilated apartment: it often happens, indeed, that such repose, instead of being followed by renovated strength and activity, is succeeded by a degree of heaviness and languor which is not overcome till the person has been some time in a purer air. Nor is this the only evil arising from sleeping in ill-ventilated" apartments. When it is known that the blood undergoes most important changes in its circulation through the lungs by means of the air which we breathe, and that these vital changes can only be effected by the respiration of pure air, it will be easily understood how the healthy functions of the lungs must be impeded by inhaling for many successive hours the vitiated air of our bedrooms, and how the health must be as effectually destroyed by respiring impure air, as by living on unwholesome or innutritious food. In the case of children and young persons predisposed to consumption, it is of still more urgent consequence that they should breathe pure air by night as well as by day, by securing a continuous renewal of the air in their bedrooms, nurseries, schools, &c. Let a mother, who has been made anxious by the sickly looks of her children, go from pure air into their bedrooms in the morning before a door or window has been opened, and remark the state of the atmosphere-the close, oppressive, and often fetid odour of the room-and she may cease to wonder at the pale, sickly aspect of her children. Let her pay a similar visit some morning after means have been taken by the chimney ventilator, or otherwise, to secure a full supply and continual renewal of the air in the bedrooms during the night, and she will be able to account for the more healthy appearance of her children, which is sure to be the consequence of supplying them with pure air to breathe.-Sir James Clark on The Sanative Influence of Climate.' Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, High Street, Edinburgh. Also sold by D. CHAMBERS, 98 Miller Street, Glasgow; W. S. ORR, 147 Strand, and Amen Corner, London; and J. M'GLASHAN, 21 D'Olier Street, Dublin.-Printed by W. and R. CHAMBERS, Edinburgh. EDINBURGH JOURNAL CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE,' 'CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE,' &c. No. 164. NEW SERIES. SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 1847. PRICE 11d. Humanity is an amiable virtue, but humanity without consideration suggests and does some very foolish things. At this moment a scheme is on foot in England and Scotland for buying and giving an acre of land to every working-man who is a member of a certain association. In other words, a section of industrious and well-disposed operatives have, through the agency of some clap-trap humanity-man, been deluded into the fancy that each of them would be happy if he became the owner of a morsel of land A WORD ON LAND. CERTAIN improvements made by Lord George Hill on his estate of Gweedore, in Donegal, were lately made the subject of an article, which, we understand, has given no little satisfaction to parties who entertain the idea that a proper system of land allotments is the one thing needful for Ireland, or any other country with a poor and redundant population. On the question of land allotments, the article pronounced no opinion, nor did it even allude to any such principle of rural arrange-land situated, perhaps, hundreds of miles from the ment. It presented only the interesting narrative of a nobleman having reclaimed a hitherto intractable peasantry from barbarous habits, and settled them in small allotments or farms on a formerly mismanaged estate. For this, as the best, if not the only thing which could be done in the circumstances, Lord George Hill, we said, deserves high praise. Ilis conduct in every respect offers a bright example to Irish landowners generally, and we trust it will not be lost upon them. Out of such proceedings, however, as those in which his lordship has been engaged, arise some grave considerations as to ulterior consequences, and on these we desire to speak frankly and emphatically. The allotment of small pieces of land-say one or two, or even four acres each-to be respectively farmed by annual or leasehold tenants, at a reasonable rent, is a great advance on a universal confusion of holdings, as was the case at Gweedore; and not being aware of what Lord George Hill proposes to do next, we cannot express a definite opinion as to the probable consequences of his generosity. There is no difficulty, however, in saying what may be expected if the arrangement be left to work in its original form. For a few years, the aspect of affairs will be greatly improved; but by and by the families of the settlers will increase in number, and remaining on the property, with or without subdivision of lands, there will ensue a condition of poverty and wretchedness which it may defy every available expedient to remedy. Such must inevitably be the consequence of every scheme for allotting patches of land to poor agriculturists, unless at the same time provision be made for employing or carrying off to new fields of enterprise the redundancy of the population. After the long experience of the wretchedness produced by patch-farming in every part of the empire, Ireland in particular, it strikes us as something very remarkable that men should be seen advocating the institution of the practice on a wide scale, as a means of national prosperity. Fascinated by the seeming humanity of bestowing allotments upon paupers, and gratified by the first appearances of prosperity which probably ensue, they altogether forget what is to come next-overcrowded cottages, new pauperism, and a poor-rate which may pretty nearly absorb the whole rental of the parish. place of his ordinary occupation. We have no hesi- In all cases in which a working-man has a reasonable assurance of permanent and properly remunerative employment in any particular place, it may be for his advantage in various ways to own a house and garden or small piece of land; but if he possess no assurance of this kind, and is exposed to the necessity of seeking employment in another district, it will be preferable to rent by the year at most what accommodations he requires. Instances of the advantage of small proprietorship are no doubt common; but so also are instances of a contrary nature. In many country towns and villages, a number of the inhabitants following handicraft employments possess small pieces of land, and also dwelling-houses; in Scotland, where they abound, they are termed bonnet lairds. Now, it is our conviction, from sundry examples which have fallen under our notice, that these inheritances are frequently injurious to families. Proud of their petty properties, proud of having a vote for members of parliament, proud of being lairds, they lead a poor struggling existence; yet, attached, nailed, as it were, to the spot, they cannot be induced to remove to places where they would be properly employed and remunerated. On one occasion, a laird of this sort, who was starving with his family on four shil lings a-week, which he realised as a handloom weaver, could not be persuaded to come to Edinburgh to be employed at fourteen shillings a-week, because by doing so he would have abdicated his dignity as a proprietor, and become only a plain operative. The heritable possession of dwelling-houses, or scraps of land, we repeat, may in many instances be injurious to working-men. It indisposes them for removal; fixes them to a spot; whereas, in order to make the most of their labour, which is their capital, they ought to hold themselves ready at the shortest notice to remove to places where the highest wages are to be obtained. the return is only annual. By no process can an agriculturist take more than one crop per annum; and so neither can a landowner get more than a year's rent for a year's use of his property. While the manufacturer and merchant are daily planning extensions of their business, sometimes losing, but more frequently making large sums, in reward of their ingenuity and enterprise, the poor landed proprietor is left to pine on his meagre rental, or draw consolation only from the prescriptive fancy that he is the salt of the earth. A little consideration suffices to show that the landowner is a man more to be pitied than envied. His situation imposes on him a certain degree of state and ratio of expenditure, too apt to be beyond his means, and whatever goes wrong in the country, on him falls the principal blame. At present, the greater number of landed proprietors throughout the United Kingdom are in dif Our opinion regarding heritable property generally is, that it is better in the hands of persons who make a business of letting it, than in the possession of those who at once own and have to use it. Among the middle as well as the humbler classes, where there is little chance of any temptation or need for removal, the pur-ficulties. Everything tends to prove that, as a class, chase of a house may be advantageous. In numberless instances, however, persons who buy or build dwellinghouses for their own use, get tired of them, or in time find them unsuitable, and are tormented till they get them off their hands. Unless, therefore, from particular circumstances, it is on the whole best to lease houses for private residence, leaving capitalists, by general competition, to provide the accommodation wanted. With respect to land, it is, in the greater number of cases, also advisable to leave it in the ownership of persons who lease it to others as a means of livelihood. Thus, for example, if the annual rent of an acre of land be L.4, it will be greatly preferable for an agriculturist to pay L.400 for the use of a hundred acres, than to expend the sum of L.12,000 in buying the property. And why? Because in the one case he is binding up a great deal of capital, which might be of service in his own proper business of husbandry-besides putting an embargo upon his personal freedom; while, in the other, he would not only keep his capital to farm the land properly, but be so far at his ease, that at the end of a term of years he could remove to a larger farm, or, without loss, altogether relinquish the trade of an agriculturist. Landowners are usually considered as a very rapacious set of persons. Our notion is, that, as a whole, they are considerably behind the age in point of economic knowledge-that they have allowed themselves to be far outstripped in the adaptation of means to ends by the manufacturing and commercial classes; but if by rapacity is meant the exaction of unwarrantably large rents, the term is certainly not applicable. In adventuring money in trade, it would be deemed a poor enterprise which did not return from ten to twenty per cent. of profit. Besides, money so risked may be turned over several times a-year. A tradesman, laying out L.100 in a speculation in January, may have a final return of L.200 before the end of December. The landowner has no such chance. In England, a freehold property in land may realise four per cent. per annum on the outlay; and in Scotland, it rarely returns above two and a-half per cent. What a miserable affair is this! A gentleman spends L.30,000 in buying an estate, and all he gets back yearly is L.1200 if in England, or L.750 if in Scotland. Why the return should be so much less in Scotland, can only be accounted for by the fact, that in that country a certain imaginary dignity and political weight is associated with territorial possessions, thus causing a competition which raises the value of land considerably beyond its fair commercial value. Assuming, however, that L.1000 or L.1200 is realised, they are not advancing; while it is equally clear that the manufacturing and commercial classes, from the circumstances adverted to, are already beginning to take the predominance in wealth and social importance. It is not difficult to see how this will end. The proposition that land is held in trust by its owners for the general good of the nation, appears reasonable; for land is the source of food, and in the production of this article in due abundance every one is concerned. Partly, however, from ignorance, and partly from the effect of certain laws of inheritance, land has scarcely ever been under a rational system of tenure; that is, open to free disposal and competition. Pride has been at the foundation of the mischief. In some countries, the inheritance of land belongs prescriptively to the eldest son of the deceased owner, to the exclusion of his other children; and in some cases, to make this principle of primogeniture doubly sure, the inheritance is destined, by deed of entail, to go in all time coming to the nearest male heir of the deceased. On this account, large properties are daily passing into the hands of elder sons, greatly to the injury of brothers and sisters; and, what is more painful, properties are going out of families altogether, leaving daughters pretty nearly destitute, and are seen passing into the hands of remote male heirs, who perhaps are in the enjoyment of handsome estates already. This entail system is more rigorous in Scotland than in England, and has greatly damaged the general and individual interest in land. Reducing the proprietor to the position of a liferenter, he is indifferent to improvements; and if otherwise disposed, he has not the means to execute any beneficial alterations on his property. Lately, in pity of these unfortunate proprietors, a law was passed empowering them to borrow money from the state to improve their lands. How humiliating the position! What would be thought of the state being asked to lend money to manufacturers to renovate their buildings and machinery? The universal and proper remark would be, that those who could not draw on private resources for such renovations, should sell their properties to men of greater wealth. The same remark, therefore, ought in propriety to be applied to those owners of lands who are destitute of means for their improvement. A law abolishing, or greatly modifying entails, would have been the reasonable plan of procedure. Contemplating the evils which arise from a too rigorous law of primogeniture and entail, the people of other countries have gone to an opposite extreme, and instituted laws making it obligatory on the father of a family to leave his property in equal portions |