June 3.

[161]Brand.[162]Naogeorgus, by Googe.[163]Hone on Mysteries.[164]Mill’s Hist. Crusades.

[161]Brand.

[162]Naogeorgus, by Googe.

[163]Hone on Mysteries.

[164]Mill’s Hist. Crusades.

St. Cecilius,A. D.211.St. Clotildis, orClotilda, Queen of France,A. D.545.St. Coemgen, orKeivin,A. D.618.St. Lifard, Abbot, about the middle of the 6th Cent.St. Genesis, in French,Genes, Bp. aboutA. D.662.

1817, June 3,Paris.—Yesterday theladiesof the market of St. Germain, having invited the rector of St. Sulpice to bless their new market-place, that pastor accompanied by the clergy of the parish, repaired there at five o’clock, and sung the hymn,Veni Creator. A procession took place inside the edifice, and themarketwas formallyblessed. The whole concluded withDomine, Salvum fac Regem. The market was to open the next morning.—Moniteur.

Hornsey-wood House.

A house of entertainment—in a placeSo rural, that it almost doth defaceThe lovely scene: for like a beauty-spot,Upon a charming cheek that needs it not,So Hornsey Tavern seems to me. And yet,Tho’ nature be forgotten, to forgetThe artificial wants of the forgetters,Is setting up oneself to be their betters.This is unwise; fortheyare passing wise,Who have no eyes for scenery, and despisePersons like me, who sometimes have sensationsThrough too much sight, and fall in contemplations,Which, as cold waters cramp and drown a swimmer,Chill and o’erwhelm me. Pleasant is that glimmer,Whereby treesseembut wood:—The men who knowNo qualities but forms and uses, goThrough life for happy people:—theyareso.*

Hornsey-wood house is beyond the Sluice-house, from whence anglers and other visitors pass to it through an upland meadow, along a straight gravel-path, angle-wise. It is a good, “plain, brown brick,” respectable, modern, London looking building. Within the entrance to the left, is a light and spacious room of ample accommodation, and of which more care has been taken, than of its fine leather-folding screen in ruins—an unseemly sight for him, who respects old requisites for their former beauty and convenience. This once partook of both, but disuse hath abused and “time hath written strange defeatures” on its face, which in its early days was handsome. It still bears some remains of a spirited painting, spread allover its leaves, to represent the amusements and humours of a fair in the low countries. At the top of a pole, which may have been the village May-pole, is a monkey with a cat on his back; then there is a sturdy bear-ward, in scarlet, with a wooden leg, exhibiting his bruin; an old woman telling fortunes to the rustics; a showman’s drummer on a stage before a booth, beating up for spectators to the performance within, which the show-cloth represents to be a dancer on the tight-rope; a well set-out stall of toys, with a woman displaying their attractions; besides other really interesting “bits” of a crowded scene, depicted by no mean hand, especially a group coming from a church in the distance, apparently a wedding procession, the females well-looking and well dressed, bearing ribbons or scarfs below their waists in festoons. The destruction of this really interesting screen by worse than careless keeping, is to be lamented. This ruin of art is within a ruin of nature. Hornsey-tavern and its grounds have displaced a romantic portion of the wood, the remains of which, however, skirt a large and pleasant piece of water, formed at a considerable expense.

Lake of Hornsey-wood House.

To this water, which is well stored with fish, anglers resort with better prospect of success than to the New River; the walk around it, and the prospect, are very agreeable.

TheoldHornsey-wood house well became its situation; it was embowered, and seemed a part of the wood. Two sisters, Mrs. Lloyd and Mrs. Collier, kept the house; they were ancient women; large in size, and usually sat before their door, on a seat fixed between two venerable oaks, wherein swarms of bees hived themselves. Here the venerable and cheerful dames tasted many a refreshing cup, with their good-natured customers, and told tales of by-gone days, till, in very old age, one of them passed to her grave, and the other followed in a few months. Each died regretted by the frequenters of the rural dwelling, which was soon afterwards pulled down, and the old oaks felled, to make room for the present roomy and more fashionable building. To those who were acquainted with it in its former rusticity, when it was an unassuming “calm retreat,” it is indeed an altered spot. To produce the alteration, a sum of ten thousand pounds was expended by the present proprietor, and Hornsey-wood tavern is now a well-frequented house. The pleasantness of its situation is a great attraction in fine weather.

1802. On the 3d of June, madame Mara, the celebrated singer, took leave of the English public. TheDictionary of Musicians, in recording the performance, observes, that never certainly was such a transcendent exercise of ability asa duet composed to display the mutual accomplishments of madame Mara and Mrs. Billington, which they sung with mutual excitement to the highest pitch of scientific expression.

Madame Mara was born at Cassel, in Germany, in 1750. Her paternal name was Schmelling. Her early years were devoted to the study of the violin, which, as a child, she played in England, but quitted that instrument, and became a singer, by the advice of the English ladies, who disliked a “female fiddler.” To this, perhaps, we owe the delight experienced from the various excellencies of the most sublime singer the world ever saw. Her first efforts were in songs of agility, yet her intonation was fixed by the incessant practice of plain notes. To confirm the true foundation of all good singing, by the purest enunciation, and the most precise intonation of the scale, was the study of her life, and the part of her voicing upon which she most valued herself. The late Dr. Arnold saw Mara dance, by way of experiment, and assume the most violent gesticulations, while going up and down the scale; yet such was her power of chest, that the tone was as undisturbed and free as if she had stood in the customary quiet position of the orchestra. The Italians say, that “of the hundred requisites to make a singer, he who has a fine voice has ninety-nine.” Mara had certainly the ninety-nine in one. Her voice was in compass from G to E in altissimo, and all its notes were alike even and strong; but she had the hundredth also in a supereminent degree, in the grandest and most sublime conception. At the early age of twenty-four, when she was at Berlin, in the immaturity of her judgment and her voice, the best critics admitted her to have exceeded Cuzzoni, Faustina, and indeed all those who preceded her. Our age has since seen Billington and Catalani, yet in majesty and truth ofexpression(a term comprehending the most exalted gifts and requisites of vocal science,) Mara retains her superiority. From her we deduce all that has been learned concerning the great style of singing. The memory of her performance of Handel’s sublime work, ‘I know that my Redeemer liveth,’ is immortalized, together with the air itself. Often as we have since heard it, we have never witnessed even an approach to the simple majesty of Mara: it is to this air alone that she owes her highest preeminence; and they who, not having heard her, would picture to themselves a just portraiture of her performance, must image a singer who is fully equal to the truest expression of the inspired words, and the scarcely less inspired music of the loftiest of all possible compositions. She was the child of sensibility: every thing she did was directed to the heart; her tone, in itself pure, sweet, rich, and powerful, took all its various colourings from the passion of the words; and she was not less true to nature and feeling in ‘The Soldier tir’d,’ and in the more exquisite, ‘Hope told a flattering tale,’ than in ‘I know that my Redeemer liveth.’ Her tone, perhaps, was neither so sweet nor so clear as Billington’s, nor so rich and powerful as Catalani’s, but it was the most touching language of the soul. It was on the mastery of the feelings of her audience that Mara set her claims to fame. She left surprise to others, and was wisely content with an apparently, but not really humbler, style; and she thus chose the part of genuine greatness.” Herelocutionmust be taken rather as universal than as national; for although she passed some time in England when a child, and retained some knowledge of the language, her pronunciation was continually marred by a foreign accent, and those mutilations of our words which are inseparable from the constant use of foreign languages, during a long residence abroad. Notwithstanding this drawback, the impression she made, even upon uneducated persons, always extremely alive to the ridiculous effects of mispronunciation, and upon the unskilled in music, was irresistible. The fire, dignity, and tenderness of her vocal appeal could never be misunderstood; it spoke the language of all nations, for it spoke to the feelings of the human heart. Mrs. Billington, with a modesty becoming her great acquirements, voluntarily declared, that she considered Mara’s execution to be superior to her own in genuine effect, though not in extent, compass, rapidity, and complication. Mara’s divisions always seemed to convey ameaning; they were vocal, not instrumental; they had light and shade, and variety of tone; they relaxed from or increased upon the time, according to the sentiment of which they always appeared to partake: these attributes were always remarkable in her open, true, and liquid shake, which was certainly full of expression. Neither inornaments, learned and graceful as they were, nor in her cadences, did she ever lose sight of the appropriate characteristics of the sense of melody. She was, by turns, majestic, tender, pathetic, and elegant, but in the one or the other not a note was breathed in vain. She justly held every species of ornamental execution, to be subordinate to the grand end of uniting the effects of sound sense, in their operations upon the feelings of her hearers. True to this spirit, if any one commended the agility of a singer, Mara would ask, “Can she sing six plain notes?” In majesty and simplicity, in grace, tenderness, and pathos, in the loftiest attributes of art, in the elements of the great style, she far transcended all her competitors in the list of fame. She gave to Handel’s compositions their natural grandeur and effect, which is, in our minds, the very highest degree of praise that we can bestow. Handel is heavy, say the musical fashion-mongers of the day. Milton would be heavy beyond endurance, from the mouth of a reader of talents even above mediocrity. The fact is, that to wield such arms, demands the strength of giants. Mara possessed this heaven-gifted strength. It was in the performance of Handel that her finer mind fixed its expression, and called to its aid all the powers of her voice, and all the acquisitions of her science. From the time of her retirement from England, Mara chiefly resided in Russia; yet as the conflagration of Moscow destroyed great part of her property, towards the close of the year 1819, or the beginning of 1820, she returned to London, and determined on presenting herself once more to the judgment of the English public, who had reverenced her name so highly and so long. She, consequently, had a concert at the Opera-house, but her powers were so diminished that it proved unsuccessful.

Justice to the channel which supplies these particulars concerning madame Mara requires it to be observed, that they are almost verbatim from a book of great merit and extensive usefulness,The Dictionary of Musicians. Its information obviously results from extensive research concerning the deceased, and personal acquaintance with many of the living individuals whose memoirs it contains. The work has experienced the fate of originality and excellence—it has been pillaged without acknowledgment; and the discovery of an error or two, which the pillagers themselves were too ignorant to detect, have enabled them to abuse it. Although written by scientific hands, it is exempt from the meanness of envy, and honestly renders honour to whom honour is due. It is a book full of facts, with interspersions of anecdote so eloquently related, that it is one of the pleasantest works a lover of literature can take up, and is therefore not only a valuable accession to our biographical collections, but to our stores of amusement.

Rosa de meaux.Rosa provincialis.Dedicated toSt. Cecilius.

St. Quirinus, Bp.A. D.304.St. Optatus, Bp. 4th Cent.St. Walter, Abbot, 13th Cent.St. Petroc, orPerreuse, Abbot, 6th Cent.St. Breaca, orBreague.St. Burian.St. Nenooc, orNennoca,A. D.467.

1738. King George III. born: he began his reign, October 25, 1760, and died, January 29, 1820.

Indian Pink.Dianthus Chinensis.Dedicated toSt. Quirinus.

St. Boniface, 8th Cent.St. Dorotheus, of TyreSt. Dorotheus, Abbot, 4th Cent.St. Illidius, Bp. 4th Cent.

This saint is in the church of England calendar. His name was Winfred. He was born at Crediton in Devonshire, educated in a Benedictine monastery at Exeter, sent to Friesland as a missionary, became archbishop of Mentz and primate of Germany and Belgium, and obtained the appellation of apostle of the Germans. His conversions were extensive, but many of them were effected by pious frauds; he was murdered in East Friesland by the peasantry, while holding a confirmation, in 755.

1814. From a newspaper of June the 5th in that year it appears, that on thepreceding Sunday morning, while the sexton of All Saints’ church, at Stamford, was engaged in ringing the bells, two youths, named King and Richards, through mere emulation, ascended the steeple by means of the crotchets, or projecting stones on the outside of that beautiful and lofty spire. The projecting stones on which they stepped in the ascent are twenty-six in number, three feet asunder, and the summit of the spire 152 feet from the ground. In ten or twelve minutes the feat was performed, and the adventurers had safely descended; one of them (Richards) having hung his waistcoat on the weathercock as a memento.

Three-leaved Rose.Rosa Sinica.Dedicated toSt. Boniface.

St. Norbert,A. D.1134.St. Philipthe Deacon,A. D.58.St. Gudwall, Bp. 6th Cent.St. Claude, Abp.A. D.696 or 703.

1762. George lord Anson, the circumnavigator of the world, died, at Moor-park, near Rickmansworth, Herts; he was born at Shuckborough, in Staffordshire, in 1700.

This offence was by no means uncommon in England some years ago. In theLondon Chroniclefor 1762, there is an extract from a letter, dated “Sunday, Highgate, June 6,” from whence it appears, that on that morning, between twelve and one, a postchaise, in which was a lady, was driven through that place very furiously by two postillions, and attended by three persons who had the appearance of gentlemen, from which she cried out, “Murder! save me! Oh, save me!” Her voice subsided from weakness into faint efforts of the same cries of distress; but as there was at that time no possibility of relief, they hastily drove towards Finchley Common. “From another quarter,” says theLondon Chronicle, “we have undoubted intelligence of the same carriage being seen, and the same outcries heard, as it passed through Islington, with the additional circumstance of the two postillions being in their shirts. Is this outrage to be suffered in England?”

Common Pink.Dianthus deltoides.Dedicated toSt. Norbert.

St. Paul, Bp. of Constantinople,A. D.350, or 351.St. Robert, Abbot,A. D.1159.St. Colman, Bp. of Dromore,A. D.610.St. Godeschalc, Prince of the Western Vandals, and his companions.St. Meriadec, Bp.A. D.1302.

1779. William Warburton, bishop of Gloucester, died. He was born at Newark-upon-Trent, in 1698, followed the profession of an attorney, relinquished it for the church, and became an eminently able and learned prelate. His writings are distinguished by genius, but deformed by a haughty and vindictive spirit.

Red Centaury.Chironia centaureum.Dedicated toSt. Paul.

St. Medard, Bp. 6th Cent.St. Gildard, orGodard, Bp.A. D.511.St. Maximinus, 1st Cent.St. William, Abp. of York,A. D.1154.St. Clou, orClodulphus, Bp.A. D.696.St. Syra, 7th Cent.

On the 8th of June, 1825, a publican in the neighbourhood of Whitechapel was charged at the Public Office, Bow-street, by Mr. John Francis Panchaud, a foreigner, with having, in conjunction with several other persons, defrauded him of a 10l.note, at Ascot Heath race-course, on the Thursday preceding. The alleged fraud, or robbery, was effected by means of an unfair game known among the frequenters of races and fairs by the name of “the thimble rig,” of which J. Smith, the officer, this day gave the following description to Mr. Minshull, in order that the worthy magistrate might perfectly understand the case:—A gang of seven or eight, or more, set up a table, but theyall appear strangers to each other, and unconnected with the game, except one who conducts it, and who appears to be the sole proprietor. This master of the ceremonies has three thimbles, and is provided with a number of peas, or pepper-corns. He puts one under each thimble, or perhaps only under one or two, as the case may be. He then offers a bet as to which thimble a pepper-corn is or is not under, and offers at first such a wager as is eagerly taken by those round the table, and he loses. He pays the losings freely, and the other members of this joint-stock company affect to laugh at him, as what they call a “good flat.” Having thus drawn the attention, and probably excited the cupidity of a stranger, who appears to have money, they suffer him to win a stake or two, and get him to increase his bets. When he seems thoroughly in the humour, the master of the table lifts a thimble, under which is a pepper-corn, and turning his head aside to speak to some one, he suffers the corn to roll off; and, seeming to be unconscious of this, he replaces the thimble, and offers bets to any amount that there is a corn underneath that particular thimble. The stranger having seen the corn roll off “with his own eyes,” as the phrase is, chuckles to himself, and eagerly takes the bet; the thimble is removed, and behold!—there is a pepper-corn under it still, the fellow having dexterously slipped another under it when the first rolled off the table. “So that the plain fact is, sir,” continued Smith, “that the stranger, fancying he is taking in the master of the table, cheerfully stakes his money with a dead certainty, as he supposes, of winning, and he finds that he has been taken in himself.” Smith said, he had known instances of gentlemen getting from their carriages, and in a few moments ridding themselves of 20l.or 30l., or perhaps more, and going off wondering at their folly, and looking uncommon silly.

It appeared that Mr. Panchaud went up to one of these tables, at which the defendant and many others were playing, and after winning two or three times, the trick above described was commenced. The conductor of the game offered a bet of 5l., and Mr. Panchaud having seen the pepper-corn roll off, took the wager, and put down a 10l.note. In a moment after there was a general hustling, the table was upset, and the whole party speedily disappeared, together with the 10l.note. When the bet was offered, the defendant, who stood next to him, jogged his elbow, and said eagerly, “Bet him, bet him; you must win, the ball is under our feet.” Mr. Panchaud had no doubt, from his whole manner, that the defendant was concerned with the others in the trick. The case stood over for further investigation. It is only mentioned here for the purpose of showing a species of slight of hand continued in our own times to defraud the unwary.

Moneywort.Lysimachia nummularia.Dedicated toSt. Medard.

Passion Flower

This flower, says the elegant author of theFlora Domestica, derives its name from an idea, that all the instruments of Christ’s passion are represented in it.

The aboveengravingfrom an ancient print, shows the curious distortion of the flower in those parts whereon the imagination has indulged. The original print bears an inscription to this effect; that nature itself grieves at the crucifixion, as is denoted by the flower representing the five wounds, and the column or pillar of scourging, besides the three nails, the crown of thorns, &c.

Most of the passion-flowers are nativesof the hottest parts of America. The rose coloured passion-flower is a native of Virginia, and is the species which was first known in Europe. It has since been, in a great measure, superseded by the blue passion-flower, which is hardy enough to flower in the open air, and makes an elegant tapestry for an unsightly wall. The leaves of this, in the autumn, are of the most brilliant crimson; and, when the sun is shining upon them, seem to transport one to the gardens of Pluto.[165]

[165]Flora Domestica.

Sts. PrimusandFelicianus,A. D.286.St. Columba, orColumkille,A. D.597.St. Pelagia,A. D.311.St. Vincent, 3d Cent.St. Richard, Bp. of Andria, 5th Cent.

1760. Nicholas Lewes, count Zinzendorf, a native of Saxony, and founder of the religious society called Moravians, died at Chelsea.

Barberry.Barberis vulgaris.Dedicated toSt. Columba.

St. Margaret, Queen of Scotland,A. D.1093.St. Getuliusand companions, 2d Cent.St. Landry, orLandericus, Bp.A. D.650.B. Henryof Treviso,A. D.1315.

1735. Thomas Hearne, the learned antiquary, died at Oxford: he was born at White Waltham, in Berkshire, in 1680.

Yellow Fleur-de-lis.Iris Pseudacorus.Dedicated toSt. Margaret.

St. Barnabas, Apostle, 1st Cent.St. Tochumra, of Tochumrach in Ireland. AnotherSt. Tochumra, diocese of Kilmore.

He was of the tribe of Levi, and coadjutor with the apostle Paul for several years. Though denominated an apostle, it seems agreed that he was not entitled to that character; if he were, his extant epistle would have equal claim with the writings of the other apostles to a place among the books in the New Testament. He is said to have been martyred, but of this there is not sufficient evidence.

This was a high festival in England formerly.

Besides the holy thorn, there grew in the abbey churchyard of Glastonbury, on the north side of St. Joseph’s chapel, a miraculous walnut-tree, which never budded forth before the feast ofSt. Barnabas, viz. the eleventh of June, and on that very day shot forth leaves, and flourished like its usual species. This tree is gone, and in the place thereof stands a very fine walnut-tree of the common sort. It is strange to say how much this tree was sought after by the credulous; and, though not an uncommon walnut, queen Anne, king James, and many of the nobility of the realm, even when the times of monkish superstition had ceased, gave large sums of money for small cuttings from the original.[166]

Midsummer, or nightless days, now begin and continue until the 2d of July.[167]There is still this saying among country people,—

“Barnaby Bright, Barnaby Bright,The longest day and the shortest night.”

Midsummer Daisy.Chrysanthemum Leucanthemum.Dedicated toSt. Barnabas.

[166]Collinson’s Somersetshire.[167]Dr. Forster’s Perennial Calendar.

[166]Collinson’s Somersetshire.

[167]Dr. Forster’s Perennial Calendar.

St. John, Hermit,A. D.1479.St. Basilides,Quirinus, orCyrinus,Nabor, andNazarius.St. Eskill, Bp.St. Onuphrius, Hermit.St. Ternan, Bp. of the Picts.

1734. The duke of Berwick, illegitimate son of James II., by ArabellaChurchill, sister to the great duke of Marlborough, was killed by a cannon ball, at the siege of Phillipsburgh, in Germany, in the 64th year of his age. He was only excelled in the art of war by the duke of Marlborough himself.

White Dog Rose.Rosa arvensis.Dedicated toSt. John.

St. Antonyof Padua,A. D.1231.St. Damhanade.

1625. Henrietta Maria, youngest daughter to Henry IV. of France, landed at Dover, and was married to Charles I., at Canterbury, on the same day; her portraits represent her to have been beautiful. She was certainly a woman of ability, but faithless to her unfortunate consort, after whose death on the scaffold she lived in France, and privately married her favourite, the lord Jermyn, a descendant of whom, with that name, is (in 1825,) a grocer in Chiswell-street, and a member of the society of friends. Henrietta Maria, though a Bourbon, was so little regarded in the court of the Bourbons, and reduced to so great extremity, that she was without fuel for her fire-place during the depth of winter, in the palace assigned to her by the French monarch.

Garden Ranunculus.Ranunculus Asiaticus.Dedicated toSt. Antony.

St. Basil, Abp.A. D.379.Sts. RufinusandValerius, 3d Age.St. Methodius, Patriarch of Constantinople,A. D.846.St. Docmael, 6th Cent.St. Nennus, orNehemias, Abbot,A. D.654.St. Psalmodius,A. D.630.

1645. The battle of Naseby, between the royalists under Charles I., and the parliament troops under Fairfax, was decided this day by the entire rout of the king’s army, and the seizure of all his artillery and ammunition. Among the spoil was the king’s cabinet with his letters, which the parliament afterwards published. Hume says, “they give an advantageous idea both of the king’s genius and morals.” Yet it is a fact, which every person who reads the correspondence must inevitably arrive at, that the king purposed deception, when he professed good faith, and that, as true genius never exists with fraud, these letters do not entitle him to reputation for common honesty, or real ability.

Sweet Basil.Oscimum Basilicum.Dedicated toSt. Basil.

Sts. Vitus, orGuy,Crescentia, andModestus, 4th Cent.St. Landelin, Abbot,A. D.686.B. Bernard, of Menthon,A. D.1008.St. Vauge, Hermit,A. D.585.B. Gregory Lewis Barbadigo, Cardinal Bp.A. D.1697.

This saint was a Sicilian martyr, under Dioclesian. Why the disease called St. Vitus’s dance was so denominated, is not known. Dr. Forster describes it as an affection of the limbs, resulting from nervous irritation, closely connected with a disordered state of the stomach and bowels, and other organs of the abdomen. In papal times, fowls were offered on the festival of this saint, to avert the disease. It is a vulgar belief, that rain on St. Vitus’s day, as on St. Swithin’s day, indicates rain for a certain number of days following.

It is related, that after St. Vitus and his companions were martyred, their heads were enclosed in a church wall, and forgotten, so that no one knew where they were, until the church was repaired, when the heads were found, and the church bells began to sound of themselves, which causing inquiry, a writing was found, authenticating the heads; they consequently received due honour, and worked miracles in due form.

Sensitive Plant.Mimosa sensit.Dedicated toSt. Vitus.

New London-bridge.

London, like famous old Briareus,With fifty heads and twice told fifty arms,Laid one strong arm across yon noble flood,For free communication with each shore;Hence, though the thews and sinews sink and shrink,And we so manifold and strong have grown,That a renewal of the limb for purposesOf national and private weal be requisite,It is to be regarded as a friendThat oft hath served us in our utmost need,With all its strength. Be ye then merciful,Good citizens, to this our ancient “sib,”Operate on it tenderly, and keepSome fragments of it, as memorialsOf its former worth: for our posterityWill to their ancestors do reverence,As we, ourselves, do reverence to ours.—*

The presentengravingis from the design at the head of the admission tickets, and is exactly of the same form and dimensions; the tickets themselves were large cards of about the size that the present leaf will present when bound in the volume, and cut round the edges.

COPY OF THE TICKET.Admit the Bearerto witnessThe Ceremonyof layingTHE FIRST STONEof theNew London-bridge,on Wednesday, the 15th day of June, 1825.(Signed)HenyWoodthorpe, Jun.Clerk of the Committee.Sealof theCity Arms.N.B.The access is from the present bridge, and the time of admission will be between the hours of twelve and two.No281.

COPY OF THE TICKET.

Admit the Bearerto witnessThe Ceremonyof layingTHE FIRST STONEof theNew London-bridge,on Wednesday, the 15th day of June, 1825.

(Signed)HenyWoodthorpe, Jun.

Clerk of the Committee.

Sealof theCity Arms.

N.B.The access is from the present bridge, and the time of admission will be between the hours of twelve and two.

No281.

It has been truly observed of the design for the new bridge, that it is striking for its contrast with the present gothic edifice, whose place it is so soon to supply. It consists but of five elliptical arches, which embrace the whole span of the river, with the exception of a double pier on either side, and between each arch a single pier of corresponding design: the whole is more remarkable for its simplicity than its magnificence; so much, indeed, does the former quality appear to have been consulted, that it has not a single balustrade from beginning to end.

New London-bridge is the symbol of an honourable British merchant: it unites plainness with strength and capacity, and will be found to be more expansive and ornamental, the more its uses and purposes are considered.

The following are to be the dimensions of the new bridge:—

Centre arch—span, 150 feet; rise, 32 feet; piers, 24 feet.

Arches next the centre arch—span, 140 feet; rise, 30 feet; piers 22 feet.

Abutment arches—span, 130 feet; rise, 25 feet; abutment, 74 feet.

Total width, from water-side to water-side, 690 feet.

Length of the bridge, including the abutments, 950 feet; without the abutments, 782 feet.

Width of the bridge, from outside to outside of the parapets, 55 feet; carriage-way, 33 feet 4 inches.

“Go and set London-bridge on fire,” said Jack Cade, at least so Shakspeare makes him say, to “the rest” of the insurgents, who, in the reign of Henry VI., came out of Kent, took the city itself, and there raised a standard of revolt against the royal authority. “Sooner said than done, master Cade,” may have been the answer; and now, when we are about to erect a new one, let us “remember the bridge that has carried safe over.” Though its feet were manifold as a centipede’s, and though, in gliding between its legs, as it

“doth bestride the Thames,”

some have, ever and anon, passed to the bottom, and craft of men, and craft with goods, so perished, yet the health and wealth of ourselves, and those from whom we sprung, have been increased by safe and uninterrupted intercourse above.

By admission to the entire ceremony of laying the first stone of the new London-bridge, the editor of theEvery-Day Bookis enabled to give an authentic account of the proceedings from his own close observation; and therefore, collating the narratives in every public journal of the following day, by his own notes, he relates the ceremonial he witnessed, from a chosen situation within the coffer-dam.

At an early hour of the morning the vicinity of the new and old bridges presented an appearance of activity, bustle, and preparation; and every spot that could command even a bird’s-eye view of the scene, was eagerly and early occupied by persons desirous of becoming spectators of the intended spectacle, which, it was confidently expected, would be extremely magnificent and striking; these anticipations were in no way disappointed.

So early as twelve o’clock, the avenues leading to the old bridge were filled with individuals, anxious to behold the approaching ceremony, and shortly afterwards the various houses, which form the streets through which the procession wasto pass, had their windows graced with numerous parties of well-dressed people. St. Magnus’ on the bridge, St. Saviour’s church in the Borough, Fishmongers’-hall, and the different warehouses in the vicinity, had their roofs covered with spectators; platforms were erected in every nook from whence a sight could be obtained, and several individuals took their seats on the Monument, to catch a bird’s-eye view of the whole proceedings. The buildings, public or private, that at all overlooked the scene, were literally roofed and walled with human figures, clinging to them in all sorts of possible and improbable attitudes. Happy were they who could purchase seats, at from half a crown to fifteen shillings each, for so the charge varied, according to the degree of accommodation afforded. As the day advanced, the multitude increased in the street; the windows of the shops were closed, or otherwise secured, and those of the upper floors became occupied with such of the youth and beauty of the city as has not already repaired to the river: and delightfully occupied they were: and were the sun down, as it was not, it had scarcely been missed—for there—

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