and with similar benefits, as well to the conductor as to the public. Old London-bridge, for which the new one is intended as a more commodious substitute, was the first that connected the Surrey and Middlesex banks. It was built originally of wood, about 800 years ago, and rebuilt of stone in the reign of king John, 1209, just two years after the chief civic officer assumed the name of mayor. Until the middle of the last century, it was crowded with houses, which made it very inconvenient to the passengers. The narrowness and inequality of its arches, have caused it to be compared to "a thick wall, pierced with small uneven holes, through which the water, dammed up by this clumsy fabric, rushes, or rather leaps, with a velocity extremely dangerous to boats and barges." Of its nineteen arches, none except the centre, which was formed by throwing two into one, is more than twenty feet wide. This is but the width of each of the piers of Waterloo-bridge. It is the most crowded thoroughfare in London, and, in this point, exceeds Charing-cross, which, according to Dr. Johnson, was overflowed by the full tide of human existence. It has been calculated, that there daily pass over London-bridge 90,000 foot passengers; 800 waggons; 300 carts and drays; 1,300 coaches; 500 gigs and tax carts; and 800 saddle horses. The importance of this great point of communication, and the necessity of rendering it adequate to the purposes of its construction, are proved, by the numbers to whom it affords a daily passage at present, and, still more, by the probable increase of the numbers hereafter. The present bridge having been for some years considered destitute of the proper facilities of transition for passengers as well as for vessels, an Act of Parliament, passed in 1823, for building a new one, on a scale and plan equal to the other modern improvements of the metropolis. The first pile of the works was driven on the west side of the present bridge, in March, 1824, and the first coffer-dam having been lately finished, the ceremony of laying the first stone of the new bridge, has been happily and auspiciously completed.* MRS. BARBAULD. The decease of this literary and excel *New Times. Summer Evening's Adventure in Wales. Mr. Proger of Werndee, riding in the evening from Monmouth, with a friend who was on a visit to him, heavy rain came on, and they turned their horses a little out of the road towards Perthyer. My cousin Powell," said Mr. Proger, ❝will, I am sure, be ready to give us a night's lodging." At Perthyer all was often admitted, that the first earl of Pembroke (of the name of Herbert) was a younger son of Perthyer; and will you set yourself up above the earls of Pembroke?" "True it is I must give place to the earl of Pembroke, because he is a peer of the realm; but still, though a peer, he is of the youngest branch of my family, being descended from the fourth son of Werndee, who was your ancestor, and settled at Perthyer, whereas I am descended from the eldest son. Indeed, my cousin Jones of Lanarth is of a branch of the family elder than you are; and yet he never disputes my being the head of the family." "Well, cousin Proger, I have nothing more to say good night to you."-"Stop a moment, Mr. Powell," cried the stranger, “ you see how it pours; do let me in at least; I will not dispute with you about our families." Pray, sir, what is your name, and where do you come from?" My name is so and so; and I come from such a county." "A Saxon of course; it would indeed be very curious, sir, were I to dispute with a Saxon about family. No, sir, you must suffer for the obstinacy of your friend, so good night to you both.”* June 16. still; the family were abed. Mr. Proger Sts. Quirius, or Cyr and Julitta, Martyrs, shouted aloud under his cousin Powell's chamber-window. Mr. Powell soon heard him; and putting his head out, inquired, "In the name of wonder what means all this noise? Who is there?" "It is only your cousin Proger of Werndee, who is come to your hospitable door for shelter from the inclemency of the weather; and hopes you will be so kind as to give him, and a friend of his, a night's lodging.' "What is it you, cousin Proger? You, and your friend shall be instantly admitted; but upon one condition, namely, that you will admit now, and never hereafter dispute, that I am the head of your family." "What was that you said?" replied Mr. Proger. Why, I say, that if you expect to pass the night in my house, you must admit that I am the head of your family." "No, sir, I never will admit that were it to rain swords and daggers, I would ride through them this night to Werndee, sooner than let down the consequence of my family by submitting to such an ignominious condition. Come up, Bald! come up!" "Stop a moment, cousin Proger; have you not A. D. 304. St. John Francis Regis, A. D. 1640. Sts. Ferreolus, or Fargeau, and Ferrutius, A. D. 211 or 212. St. Aurelian, Abp. A. D. 552. CHRONOLOGY. 1722. John Churchill, the great duke of Marlborough, died at Windsor-lodge, in a state of idiocy. He was son of sir Winston Churchill, an English historian, and born at Ashe, in Devonshire, 1650 At twelve years of age he became page to the duke of York, afterwards James II.; at sixteen he entered the guards, and distinguished himself under Turenne. He was called the handsome Englishman, married Miss Jennings, (the celebrated duchess of Marlborough,) obtained distinguished rank and offices, suppressed the duke of Monmouth's rebellion, and served king James with apparent fidelit in the wane of his fortune, while he faithlessly made court to the prince of Orange. His great military achieve * Williams's Monner h. App. 168. ments, under king William and queen Anne, were rewarded by munificent public grants, and a public funeral in Westminster-abbey. FLORAL DIRECTORY. Moss Privince Rose. Rosa muscosa. Dedicated to St. Julitta. CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. To the Editor of the Every-Day Book. Dear Sir, A great deal has been lately attempted, by men of feeling minds, to prevent wanton cruelty towards animals; which (unhappily even in this enlightened age,) is but too prevalent. The lower class of persons, to whom the care of the horse is intrusted, frequently possess less sense than those noble animals, which groan under their tyranny; we constantly find ignorant farriers, who think that a cure can only be effected, by most violent and painful remedies. It is to these brutal men, that the lameness of so many horses may be attributed; for, not understanding the beautiful and singular construction of the interior of a horse's foot, by cutting away the hoof they contract the foot, and gradually prevent the elasticity so necessary: thus by repeated shoeing, the foot is cramped, as much so, as a man's who would attempt to walk in a shoe considerably too tight for him. Lameness ensues, and these farriers pronounce the seat of lameness any where but where it actually exists; then comes firing and blistering, and every possible torture, and the poor animal lamed for life, long before his time, is consigned to the lowest drudgery, and subsequently to the dogs. The inhuman rate at which horses are driven in stage coaches, conduces greatly to mortality; this consumption of animal life is, in some instances, one in three annually. Soame Jenyns, whose works are well known, and who was himself a man of the finest feelings, in a paper On Cruelty to Animals, adverts to the disciples of Pythagoras, who held that the souls of men, and all other animals, existed in a state of perpetual transmigration, and that when by death they were dislodged from one corporeal habitation, they were immediately reinstated in another, happier or more miserable, according to their be Soame Jenyns haviour in the former. favours this doctrine of transmigration, "first, from its justice; secondly, from its utility; and lastly, from the difficulty we lie under to account for the sufferings of many innocent creatures without it." He says, "If we look around us, we cannot but observe a great and wretched variety of this kind; numberless animals subjected by their own natures to many miseries, and by our cruelties to many more, incapable of crimes, and consequently incapable of deserving them, called into being, as far as we can discover, only to be miserable for the service or diversion of others less meritorious than themselves, without any possibility of preventing, deserving, or receiving recompense for their unhappy lot, if their whole existence is comprehended in the narrow and wretched circle of their present life." He then proceeds to observe, that "the theory here inculcated, removes all these difficulties, and reconciles all these seemingly unjust dispensations, with the strictest justice. It informs us, that their sufferings may by no means be understood, but as the just punishments of their former behaviour, in a state, where by means of their vices, they may have escaped them. It teaches us, that the pursued and persecuted fox, was once probably some crafty and rapacious minister, who had purchased by his ill acquired wealth, that safety, which he cannot now procure by his flight; that the bull, baited with all the cruelties that human ingenuity, or human malevolence can invent, was once some relentless tyrant, who had inflicted all the tortures which he endures; that the poor bird, blinded, imprisoned, and at last starved to death in a cage, may have been some unforgiving creditor; and the widowed turtle, pining away life for the loss of her mate, some fashionable wife, rejoicing at the death of her hus- * band, which her own ill-usage had occasioned. Never can the delicious repast of roasted lobsters excite my appetite, whilst the ideas of the tortures in which those innocent creatures have expired, present themselves to my imagination. But when I consider that they must have once probably been Spaniards at Mexico, or Dutchmen at Amboyna, I fall too, with a good stomach and a good conscience. Never can I repose myself with satisfaction in a post chaise, whilst I look upon the starved, foundered, accelerated, and excoriated animals which draw it, as mere horses, condemned to such unmerited torments for my convenience, but I reflect, they must have undoubtedly existed in the fathers of the holy inquisition. I very well know that these sentiments will be treated as ludicrous by many of my readers, but they are in themselves just and serious, and carry with them the strongest probability of their truth. So strong is it, that I cannot but hope it will have some good effect on the conduct of those polite people, who are too sagacious, learned, and courageous to be kept in awe by the threats of hell and damnation; and I exhort every fine lady to consider, how wretched will be her condition, if after twenty or thirty years spent at cards, in elegant rooms, kept warm by good fires and soft carpets, she should at last be obliged to change places with one of her coach horses; and every fine gentleman to reflect, how much more wretched would be his, if after wasting his estate, his health, and his life in extravagance, indolence, and luxury, he should again revive in the situation of one of his creditors." Besides Jenyns's suppositions, allow me to notice the crimping of fish, the skinning of eels alive, the whipping of pigs to death, to make them tender, the boiling of live crabs, having first put them in cold water to make them lively; together with the preference given to hunted hares, on account of their delicacy of muscles, softened by worry and exertion. These are but too common instances of a barbarous taste. At this season of enjoyment and leisure, when we derive pleasure from contemplating the beautiful forms and appearances of nature, and are grateful for annual abundance, let us reflect on the criminal heedlessness wherewith we allow our appetites and pleasures to be indulged, by needless sufferings in the animals we subdue to our wants and whims. While we endeavour to inculcate kindness in our children towards one another, let us teach them kindness to the meanest of created beings. I know that the Every-Day Book widely circulates in families; the humane sentiments that pervade it, must therefore have considerable influence, and for this reason I select it as a channel for conveying a humane suggestion. I am, dear Sir, Yours sincerely? B. Yet, all inviting though it seems, But the young shoots that round me rise They tripping lightly o'er the path, Press on and onward still, They breathe at freedom's will. Where shipwreck'd seamen oft deplore In quest of shells, or various weed, They rove at ebb of tide Their anxious search abide. Proud and elated with their prize, The treasures home are brought Fit food for an immortal mind, Else of itself the prey! Sometimes tho', with a courage bold, Within the parlour's shade! Sometimes the place,† warm shelter' d close, Where Sharwood's decorated house. From roof to step all flowers, There, snugly shelter'd from the blast, Where famed sir Williams's bark Shall venture on such ark! But, ah! still round the corner creeps, Arm'd as with numerous needle points, So home again full trot I speed, O'er the hard-hearted fate of those Again upon the sea I look, With endless wonder fraught: And, spite of all that some may say, Whereon the soul can dwell! My soul enkindles at the sight And loves such grandeur well! almanacs on this day, but he stands in the Romish calendar, on the 22d of the month. St. Alban was born at Verulam, in Hertfordshire, in the third century, and went to Rome, where he served seven years as a soldier under Dioclesian. He afterwards returned to England, became a Christian, and suffered martyrdom in 303, during the dreadful persecution raised by Dioclesian. Several miracles are said by Bede to have been wrought at his martyrdom.* The fame of Alban, recorded as it was by Bede, made a deep impression on the minds of the superstitious. "The Ecclesiastical History" of that author, was published in 731; and in the year 795, Öffa, king of the Mercians, built a monastery to the honour of Alban, on the place where he had suffered, then called by the Anglo-Saxons, Holmhurst, but since, in honour of the martyr, named St. Alban's. The town built near the abbey still retains the latter appellation; and the abbeychurch is even yet in existence, having, at the suppression of the monasteries by Henry the Eighth, been purchased by a rich clothier of the name of Stump, for 400l., and converted by him into a parochial church,for the use of the inhabitants. In the year 1257, some workmen repairing this ancient church, found the remains of some sheets of lead, containing relics, with a thick plate of lead over them, upon which was cut the following inscription : "In hoc Mausoleo inventum est June 17. J. S. Sts. Nicandeo and Marcian, about A. D. 303. St. Botulph, Abbot, A.D. 655. St. MoSt. Avitus, or Avy, A.D. 530. lingus, or Dairchilla, Bp. A. D. 697. St. Prior, Hermit, 4th Cent. St. Alban. This saint, the proto-martyr of Britain, is in the church of England calendar and Wellington-crescent. Albion-place. FLORAL DIRECTORY. Monkey Flower. Mimulus luteus. Dedicated to St. Nicandeo. June 18. Sts. Marcus and Marcellianus, A. D. 286. St. Marina, 8th. Cent. St. Elizabeth of Sconage, Abbess, A.D. 1165. St. Amand, Bp. of Bourdeaux. CHRONOLOGY. 1815. The battle of Waterloo, which terminated the personal power of Napolean, was fought on this day. Audley. Brady's Clavis. |