fieged London, caufed a channel to be formed on the fouth fide of the Thames,about Rotherhithe, for conveying his fhips above the bridge. If any credit is to be given to the traditionary account of the origin of the ancient wooden bridge, given by Bartholomew Linftead, the laft prior of Saint Mary Overy's convent, London is indebted for this ftructure to that religious house. Stow feems to be of this opinion; but the perfons who continued his work allow no other merit to the monks of this convent than that they gave their confent to the erection of the bridge, on receiving a fufficient recompence for the lofs of the ferry, by which they had been fupported; and that this conjecture is not without foundation, appears from the appropriation of lands for the fupport of London-bridge, at fo early a period as the reign of Henry I. In the year 1136, it was confumed by fire; and in 1163, it was in fuch a ruinous ftate as to be rebuilt, under the inspection of Peter, curate of St. Mary Colechurch, in London, who was celebrated for his knowledge in the science of architecture. At length, the continued and heavy expence which was neceffary to maintain and fup. port a wooden bridge becoming burthenfome to the people, who, when the lands appropriated for its maintenance proved inadequate to their object, were taxed to fupply the deficiencies, it was refolved in the year 1176 to build one of ftone, a little to the weft of the other; and this structure was completed in the year 1209. The fame architect was employed, who died four years before it was finifhed, and was buried in a beautiful chapel, probably of his own conftruction, dedicated to

St. Thomas, which stood on the ninth pier from the north end, and had an entrance from the river, as well as the ftreet, by a winding ftaircafe. In the middle of it was a tomb, fuppofed to contain the remains of its architect. But though fo much art and expence were employed in building the bridge with ftone, it fuffered very much from a fire in the streets at each end of it; fo that from this accident, and other circumftances, it was in fuch a ruinous condition that King Edward I. granted a brief to the bridge-keeper, to afk and receive the benevolence of his fubjects through the kingdom towards repairing it. It would be equally irkfome and unneceffary to enumerate all the cafualties which befel London-bridge till the corporation of London came to the refolution, in 1746, of taking down all the houses, and enlarging one or more of its arches, to improve the navigation beneath it: but it was ten years before this refolution was carried into effect. The fpace occupied by the piers and fterlings of this bridge is confiderably greater than that allowed for the paffage of the water; fo that half the breadth of the river is in this place entirely ftopped. But inftead of making reparations, the whole ought to have been removed, as a very magnificent ftructure might have been erected, at a much lefs expence than has been employed in maintaining the prefent nuifance to the river, and difgrace of the city. The laft alteration coft near 100,000l. and without any wife anfwering the principal object in view, which was to diminish its fall at the ebbing of the tide, and confequently to leffen the danger of a paffage which has proved a watery grave to fo many

people. This vaft work appears to have been founded on enormous piles, driven closely together: on their tops were laid long planks, ten inches thick, ftrongly bolted; and on them was placed the bafe of the pier, the lowermoft ftones of which are bedded in pitch, to prevent the water from damaging the work; around the whole were the piles which are called the fterlings, defigned to ftrengthen and preferve the foundation: thefe contracted the space between the piers in such a manner, as to occafion, at the return of every tide, a fall of five feet, or a number of cataracts full of danger, and, as they have proved, of deftruction. This ftructure has been styled, by ancient writers, the wonder of the world, the bridge of the world, and the bridge of wonders; and how well it deferved this pompous character will be feen from the defcription of its form and condition, previous to that alteration to which it owes its prefent appear

ance.

The Thames, in this part of it, is 915 feet broad, which is the length of the bridge. The ftreet that covered it confifted, before the houfes fell to decay, of lofty edifices, built with fome attention to exterior regularity: it was 20 feet wide, and the buildings on either fide about 26 feet in depth. Acrofs the middle of the street ran feveral lofty arches, extending from fide to fide, the bottom part of each arch terminating at the first story, and the upper part reaching near the tops of the houses; the work over the arches extending in a ftraight line from fide to fide. They were defigned to prevent the buildings from giving way; and were therefore formed of ftrong timbers,

bolted in the correfponding woodwork of the houfes that flanked them. Thus the ftreet on the bridge had nothing to distinguish it from any narrow ftreet in the city but the high arches juft defcribed, and three openings, guarded with iron rails, which afforded a view of the river. But the appearance from the water baffles all description, and, difplayed a strange example of curious deformity. Nineteen unequilateral arches, of different heights and breadths, with fterlings increafed to a monftrous fize by frequent repairs, ferved to fupport a range of houfes as irregular as themselves; the back part of which, broken by hanging clofets and irregular projections, offered a very disgusting object; while many of the buildings overhung the arches, fo as to hide the upper part of them, and feemed to lean in fuch a manner as to fill the beholder with equal amazement and horror. In one part of this extraordinary structure, there had formerly been a drawbridge, which was useful by way of defence, as well as to admit ships to the upper part of the river, and it was guarded by a tower. It pre vented Fauconbridge, the baftard, from entering the city in 1471 with his armed followers, on the pretence of liberating the unfortunate Henry from his imprisonment in the Tower. It alfo checked, and indeed feemed to annihilate, the illconducted infurrection of Sir Thomas Wiatt, in the reign of Queen Mary. In the times of civil diffention, which rendered this kingdoma continual scene of turbulence and bloodshed, this tower was employed to expofe the heads of traitors: and an old map of the city, in 1597, reprefents this building as

decorated

exhibition of them. But though the paffage over the bridge is very much enlarged and improved, and forms a very handfome communication between the city of London and borough of Southwark, we cannot but lament, as if the miferable contrivance of the bridge itself were not a fufficient impediment to the navigation, that the four arches, which have been fo long occupied by an engine to fupply the neighbourhood with water, ftill continue to be incumbered with it.

Account of the Pyramid of Caius Ceftius. -From Lumifden's Remarks on the Antiquities of Rome.

A LMOST joining to the gate of St. Paul, there is an elegant pyramid, which is built up in and ferves for part of the city wall. It had certainly stood without the city before Aurelian extended the walls. This is the only pyramid remaining about Rome: but which conveys to us, though in miniature, an idea of thofe in Egypt! * It was built to perpetuate the name of Caius Ceftius, one of the feptemvir Epulonum. But who this Ceftius was, other than the title given him on this monument, is uncertain. The Epulones were a college of priests, of great dignity, who prepared thofe feafts to the gods, called Lectifternia, where their statues, laid on rich beds, were placed at table as the principal guefts. One of thofe beds (of bronze curiously wrought)

Thefe fumptuous entertainments were devoured by the feven noble gormandizing priefts. It was to appeafe the gods, in time of a plague, that the Romans firft inftituted these feafts, in the year of Rome 356 †As the ground about the pyramid is much raifed, we have not fo advantageous a fight of it as formerly. It is 1643 palms high, all incrufted with white marble, and rests on a bafe of Tiburtine ftones, whofe height is 3 palms. The breadth of the fquare, on which it stands, is 130 palms. Agreeable to the teftament of Ceftius, this vaft monument was built in 350 days. The fepulchral chamber had been finely painted: it is now much defaced; more perhaps from the finoke of the torches used in showing it, than from the humidity of the place. These figures and ornaments feein all to relate to the facred ceremonies of the Epulones. The monu ment was judicioufly repaired, with out altering its form, by Pope Alexander VII.

↑ Livius, 1. 5. c. 13.

mans regulated their time by it for the space of ninety-nine years, when Q. Marcus Philippus, who was cenfor with L. Paulus, caufed another dial, conftructed for the latitude of Rome, to be erected near the old one. But as a fun-dial did not ferve in cloudy weather, Scipio Nafica, five years after, remedied this defect, by introducing a method of dividing the night as well as the day into hours, by means of a water machine, a clefidra, which Pliny calls an horologium.

I do not indeed conceive how a fun-dial, or any other inftrument, could point out the various hours, as time was computed by the ancient Romans. The time the earth takes to revolve once round its axis, or the space between the rifing of the fun till its next rifing, which makes a day and a night, divided into twenty-four equal parts, we call hours. Now, the Romans divided the day and the night into twenty-four hours. Twelve of thefe, from the rifing of the fun to its fetting, conftituted their day; and the other twelve, from the fetting of the fun to its rifing, conftituted their night. Thus as the feafons changed, the length of their hours must have varied. In winter the twelve hours of the day were fhort, and thofe of the night long: in fummer they were the reverfe. How then could thefe hours, of an

unequal length, and which daily varied, be measured by an inftrument? I have not been able to difcover any method by which this could be done. However, they had two fixed points, viz. mid-day and mid-night, which they called the fixth hour: fo that a meridian line would always point out the fixth hour, or mid-day.

But

Neither have I been able to difcover when the modern Romans changed this method of computing time. In the courfe of the day and night they reckon twenty-four hours, which are all of an equal length in every season of the year. Noinconvenience can arife in reckoning twenty-four hours in place of twelve and twelve, as we do. Perhaps to far the modern Roman method is preferable to ours. the difficulty is, that they do not begin to reckon their hours from a fixed point, viz. from mid-day, when the fun croffes the fame meridian line every day in the year. Thus they call half an hour after fun-fet the twenty-fourth hour; and an hour and a half after fun - fet the first hour, or one o'clock. Hence the nominal hour of mid-day conftantly changes with them: in June it is called fixteen, and in December nineteen o'clock. To regulate, therefore, a time piece by this method of computing, it must be daily altered.

MISCELLANEOUS.

TH

HAT heat paffes more freely through fome bodies than others, is a fact very well known; but the cause of this difference in the conducting powers of bodies, with refpect to heat, has not yet been discovered.

The utility of giving a wooden handle to a tea-pot or coffee-pot of metal, or of covering its metallic handle with leather, or with wood, is well known: but the difference in the conducting powers of various bodies with regard to heat, may be fhown by a great number of very fimple experiments;-fuch as are in the power of every one to make at all times and in all places, and almost without either trouble or expence.

If an iron nail and a pin of wood, of the fame form and dimenfions, be held fucceffively in the flame of a candle, the difference in the conducting powers of the metal and of

ner in which there will be no room left for doubt. As foon as the end of the nail, which is expofed in the flame of the candle, begins to be heated, the other end of it will grow fo hot as to render it impoffible to hold it in the hand without being burnt; but the wood may be held any length of time in the fame fituation without the leaft inconvenience; and, even after it has taken fire, it may be held till it is almost entirely confumed; for the uninflamed wood will not grow hot, and, till the flame actually comes in contact with the fingers, they will not be burnt. If a fmall flip or tube of glass be held in the flame of the candle in the fame manner, the end of the glafs by which it is held will be found to be more heated than the wood, but incomparably lefs fo than the pin or nail of metal-and among all the various bodies that can be tried in this manner, no two of them will be found to give paffage to heat through their fubftances with exactly the fame degree of facility *.