practical use. The
chief of a tribe, proud in proportion to his barbarian insignificance,
may from time to time indulge himself by numbering the people whom he
considers as his property; and an ambitious and warlike emperor may
organize a conscription; and these records may remain to fulfil
hereafter far more exalted purposes than those for which they were
designed: but these instances are few; and in the art of constructing
tables, and ascertaining averages, the most civilized people are still,
for want of practice, in a state of unskilfulness. But, in the absence
of that which would spare observers the task of ascertaining results for
themselves, they must take the best they can get. A traveller must
inquire for any public registers which may exist in all districts, and
note and reflect upon the facts he finds there. In case of there being
none such, it is possible that the physicians of the district may be
able to afford information from private documents of the same nature. If
not, there remain the cemeteries.

The calculators of longevity believe that they may now, by taking down
the dates from the first thirty tombstones in the cemeteries of the
districts they pass through, learn the comparative healthiness and
length of life of the inhabitants of the country. However this may be,
there is no doubt that a large variety and extent of information may be
thus obtained. The observer can ascertain where the fatal diseases of
infancy most prevail,--which is the same thing as knowing that the
physical and moral condition of the people is low; as a large proportion
(not mere number) of deaths in infancy is a most unfavourable symptom of
society. He can ascertain where consumption prevails, where fever, and
where the largest proportion attains to length of days. It is much to
know what character disease and death wear in any district. One
character of Morals and Manners prevails where the greater number die
young, and another where they die old; one where they are cut off by
hardship; another where they waste away under a lingering disease; and
yet another where they abide their full time, and then come to their
graves like a shock of corn in its season. The grave-yards on the
heights of the Alleghanies will tell a different tale of Morals and
Manners from the New Orleans' cemetery, glaring in the midst of the
swamp; and so would the burial-places in the suburbs of Irish cities,
if their contents were known, from those of