From London Bridge he espies the one I have just mentioned, the Southwark Bridge.--'What have we here ?'--'Oh, Sir, that is the cast-iron bridge, with three arches, over the Thames.' He hastens to it, and when upon it, what must be his astonishment, at the power of the human mind to form, and of the human body to bring together, such immense pieces of iron?
To connect Queen Street, Cheapside, with the Kent and Surrey Roads by three arches, the centre of which is 240 feet span, and the side ones 210 feet each, the arches all composed of cast iron, the piers and abutments of stone.
'Zounds,' he would exclaim, 'if the race of man dwindle in stature, they grow daily more stupendous in intellect! 'But we will suppose, like you, with an anxiety to see all that can be seen, he perceives a machine sailing down the river with astonishing velocity; 'Why, formerly,' said he, 'wind and tide against a vessel were insurmountable obstacles in its passage, but now they seem to add to its swiftness; how is this to be accounted for?
'-- 'Easily enough,' replies a bye-stander; 'Lord bless you, it's all done by steam.

Hot water and smoke do every thing now-a-days! Why there are a great number of machines, which formerly required from two to forty or more horses each to put and keep in motion, entirely worked by the steam arising from boiling water.'-- ' Prodigious! Steam do all that! Astonishing!'" "And truly," replied Bob, "notwithstanding I have witnessed many improvements, I confess I am astonished at the various uses to which this discovery has already been devoted, and the extraordinary powers it possesses.
"Well, we will pursue the train of thought a little further: Suppose, perambulating the streets till he is quite tired, and seeing alterations and changes out of number, he enters a Coffee House, eats a hearty meal, and taking a glass or two of wine, he falls into a musing train of ideas of the wonders he has been witnessing, from which he is not disturbed, till the hoarse voice of a Charley sounds in his ear, 'Past ten o'clock, and a cloudy night,' at which he hastily starts up, discharges his bill, and prepares, by buttoning up close and securing his trusty stick, for (as he would naturally expect) a dull dreary walk.

He sallies out thus equipped, and, to his utter astonishment, finds the streets as busy as in the middle of the day, and almost as light.

He steps up to one of the lights to ~74~~ examine it--'What can this be?
It is not oil, there is no vessel to contain it; surely this can't be steam also! But what can it be ?'--'Gas, Sir,' says a passenger, who overhears the question, 'Gas; it is produced from coals set on fire and confined in a furnace, the subtle vapour from which is conveyed by means of pipes, and, light applied to it, immediately bursts into a flame.' His astonishment would now be complete, and if he did sleep after, it would be difficult to persuade him it was not all a dream." "Our wise forefathers knew the worth of land, And bank'd the Thames out with laborious hand; From fresh encroachments bound it's restless tide Within a spacious channel deep and wide.
With equal pains, revers'd, their grandsons make On the same spot a little inland lake; Where browsing sheep or grazing cattle fed, The wondrous waters new dominion spread; Where rows of houses stood through many a street Now rows of ships present a little fleet.
Nay, we had made, had Nature not refus'd, Had Father Thames not begg'd to be excus'd, A pretty tunnel underneath his bed, And left him running, grumbling, over head; Had scratch'd a track out, like a grubbing mole, Through a long, dark, and damp and dirty hole-- Like rats in sewers, had flounder'd through the mud, Instead of sailing, duck-like, o'er the flood; But bubbling springs chok'd up the project deep, And trickling waters on our folly weep." By this time they had crossed the Bridge, and having regained the curricle, the Hon.

Tom Dashall tickled the _tits_ in prime style along the Strand, in the road to the City.