The Flowers of Literature, THE GRAND SUSPENSION BRIDGE OVER BELOW LONDON BRIDGE. THIS stupendous undertaking, of which we have, by much activity, and especial permission, presented our readers with a perspective view, bids fair to surpass in its boldness of design, and extraordinary architectural effect, any of our metropolitan bridge structures. Neither our own limits, nor the quantity of detail to be obtained by possibility of an extensive building of this character, before erection, allow us to give much more explanation of it than is distinctly conveyed by the engraving, and which will, with the mass of our friends, be, after all, assuredly, the most satisfactory. The intended situation of the bridge is immediately below the Tower of London, directly over the river to Bermondsey; making an angle with the course of the river at that place of about twenty degrees from a right-angled direction, inclining towards the east. The bridge is itself of iron, with solid piers of masonry. It is on the Suspension plan, and is composed entirely of iron chains or jointed bars: the middle arch, or stretch which it makes actually over the river, is six hundred feet in width, out of one thousand, the whole width of the river. The piers are four in number, exclusive of the two abutments; and the entire stretch of the bridge, which is to allow the passage of vessels not requiring more than eightyfive feet in height, will exceed three thousand feet! It will commence at the bottom of the Minories, and passing over Little Tower Hill, at an elevation above the road and pathways of more than thirty feet, increasing, as it passes over St. Catharine's, to seventy feet, it will cross the river to Shad Thames, a few yards below Horselydown stairs; and thence making its way over the present state of that neighbourhood, literally over streets and houses, it will cross Gainsford - street, Abdy - street, Thornton-street, &c. and will terminate its course in Russell-street and Dockhead, whence a new line of road will be continued to the New Cut from the Neckinger: The distance between the points of suspension of each span, is six hundred feet. The height of the centre opening, or arch, above high-water, eighty-five feet. The inclination of the road-way over the bridge is one foot in each thirty feet. The width of the carriage-way is twenty-one feet. The width of the foot. path on each side is eight feet. The total length of bridge and inclined planes three thousand four hundred feet!! THE FATAL MARKSMAN. (Concluded from page 212.) THE black horseman turned away his horse, and said with a gloomy solemnity "Thou dost know me: the very hair of thy head, which stands on end, confesses for thee that thou dost. I am he-whom at this moment thou namest in thy heart with horror." So saying, he vanishedfollowed by the dreary sound of withered leaves, and the echo of blasted boughs falling from the trees beneath which he had stood. "Merciful God! what has happened to you, William?" exclaimed Kate and her mother, as William returned pale and agitated after miduight: "you look as if fresh risen from the grave." "Nothing, nothing," said William,"nothing but night air; the truth is I am a little feverish." "William, William!" said old Bertram, "you can't deceive me: something has met you in the forest. Why would you not stop at home? Something has crossed you on the road, I'll swear." William was struck with the old man's seriousness, and replied—" Well, yes; I acknowledge, something has crossed me. But wait for nine days: before then, you know yourself that—" "Gladly, gladly, son," said Bertram: "and God be praised, that it is any thing of that kind which can wait for nine days. Trouble him not, wife; Kate, leave him at peace! now, my good lad, go to bed, and rest thyself. Night," says the proverb, " is no man's friend." But be of good cheer: the man that is in his vocation, and walks only in lawful paths, may bid defiance to the fiends of darkness, and all their works." William needed his utmost powers of dissimulation to disguise from the old man's penetration how little his suspicions had done him injustice. This indulgent affection of father Bertram, and such unshaken confidence in his uprightness, He hurried to his bedwrung his heart room, with full determination to destroy "One only will I the accursed bullets. keep, only one I will use," said he, holding out his supplicating hands pressed palm to palm with bitter tears towards heaven. “Oh, let the purpose, let the purpose THE FATAL MARKSMAN. plead for the offence: plead for me the anguish of my heart, and the trial which I could not bear! I will humble, I will abase myself in the sight of God: with a thousand, with ten thousand penitential acts I will wash out the guilt of my transgression, But can I, can I now go back, without making shipwreck of all things of my happiness, my honour, my darling Kate?" Somewhat tranquillised by this view of his own conduct, he beheld the morning dawn with more calmness than he had anticipated. The ducal commissioner arrived, and expressed a wish, previously to the decisive trial, of making a little hunting excursion in company with the young forester. "For," said he, "between our selves, the hunter's skill is best shewn in the forest." William turned pale, and would have made excuses; but, as these availed nothing with the commissioner, he begged at least, that he might be allowed to stand his trial first. Öld Bertram shook his head thoughtfully:-"William, William!" said he with a deep tremulous tone. William withdrew instantly: and in a few moments he was equipped for the chase, and with Bertram followed the commissioner into the forest. The old forester sought to suppress his misgivings, but struggled in vain to assume a cheerful aspect. Katharine too was dejected and agitated; and went about her household labours as if dreaming. "Was it not possible," she had asked her father, "to put off the trial?" "I thought of that also," replied he, and he kissed her in silence. Recovering himself immediately, he congratulated his daughter on the day-and reminded her of her bridal garland. The garland had been locked up by old Anue in a drawer; and hastily at tempting to open it, she injured the lock. A child was therefore despatched to a shop to fetch another garland for the bride. "Bring the handsomest they have," cried dame Anne after the child: but the child, in its simplicity, pitched upon that which glittered most: and this happened to be a bride's funeral garland of myrtle and rosemary entwined with silver, which the mistress of the shop, not knowing the circumstances, allowed the child to carry off. The bride and her mother well understood the ominous import of this accident! each shuddered; and flinging her arms about the other's neck, sought to stifle her horror in a laugh at the child's blunder. The lock was now tried once more; it opened readily; the coronals were exchanged; and the beautiful tresses of Katharine were en. 227 wreathed with the blooming garland of a bride. The The hunting party returned. commissioner was inexhaustible in William's praise. "After such proofs of skill," said he, "it seems ridiculous that I should call for any other test: but to satisfy old ordinances, we are sometimes obliged to do more than is absolutely needful; and so we will despatch the matter as briefly as possible. Yonder is a dove sitting on that pillar: level, and bring her down." "Oh! not that-not that, for God's sake, William," cried Katharine, hastening to the spot, "shoot not, for God's sake, at the dove. Ah! William, last night I dreamed that I was a white dove; and my mother put a ring about my neck; then came you, and in a moment my mother was covered with blood." William drew back his piece which he had already levelled: but the commissioner laughed. "Eh, what?" said he, so timorous? That will never do for a forester's wife: courage, young bride, courage!-Or stay, may be the dove is a pet dove of your own?". "No," said Katharine, "but the dream has sadly sunk my spirits." "Well, then," said the commissioner, "If that's all, pluck'em up again! and so fire away, Mr. Forester." He fired and at the same instant, with a piercing shriek, fell Katharine to the ground. "Strange girl!" said the commissioner, fancying that she had fallen only from panic, and raised her up: but a stream of blood flowed down her face; her forehead was shattered; and a bullet lay sunk in the wound. "What's the matter?" exclaimed Wil. liam, as the cry resounded behind him. He turned and saw Kate with a deathly paleness lying stretched in her blood. By her side stood the old wooden-leg, laughing in fiendish mockery, and snarling out "Sixty go true, three go askew.” In the madness of wrath, William drew his hanger, and made a thrust at the hideous creature. "Accursed devil!" cried he in tones of despair-"Is it thus thou hast deluded me?" More he had no power to utter; for he sank insensible to the ground close by his bleeding bride. The commissioner and the priest sought vainly to speak comfort to the desolate parents. Scarce had the aged mother laid the ominous funeral garland upon the bosom of her daughter's corpse, when she swept away the last tears of her unfathomable grief. The solitary father soon followed her. William, the Fatal Marksman, wore away his dayain a mad. house. TO ADA. By Lady Byron. THINE is the smile, and thine the bloom, Where hope might fancy ripen'd charms; But mine is dyed in memory's gloom; Thou art not in a father's arms! And there I could have loved thee most, Which rose to weep o'er buried love:A fond and filial mourner, sent To dream of ties restor'd above. Thou dove! who may'st not find a rest, To bear thee over sorrow's waves, Which deluge still this world below; Till thou through Him alone that saves, A bolier Ararat shalt know. Nor think me frozen, if for thee No earthly wish now claims a part; Too dear such wish; too vain to me; Thou art not in a father's heart! ANACREONTIC. NOW find the fairest flowers; and now Where Love the laughing hours beguiles; Those strings that set the soul on fireAnd then-but what can mortal more, Than Music, Love, and Wine, desire? Onward she glides, amid ripple and Over the waters,-away, and away! Who-as the beautiful pageant sweeps by, Music around her, and sunshine on high,— Pauses to think, amid glitter and glow, Oh! there be hearts that are breaking below! Night on the waves!-and the moon is on high, Hung, like a gem, on the brow of the sky, Treading its depths in the power of her might, And turning the clouds, as they pass her, to light! Look to the waters!-asleep on their breast, Seems not to the ship like an island of rest? Bright and alone on the shadowy main, Like a heart-cherished home on some desolate plain! Who-as she smiles in the silvery light, Spreading her wings on the bosom of night, Alone on the deep, as the moon in the sky, A phantom of beauty—could deem, with a sigh, That so lovely a thing is the mansion of sin, And souls that are smitten lie bursting within? Who-as he watches her silently glidingRemembers that wave after wave is dividing Bosoms that sorrow and guilt could not sever, Hearts which are parted and broken for ever? Or deems that he watches, afloat on the wave, The death-bed of hope, or the young spirit's grave? 'Tis thus with our life: while it passes along, Like a vessel at sea, amid sunshine and song! Gaily we glide, in the gaze of the world, With streamers afloat, and with canvass All gladness and glory, to wandering eyes, unfurled; Yet chartered by sorrow, and freighted with sighs: Fading and false is the aspect it wears, As the smiles we put on, just to cover our tears ; And the withering thoughts which the world cannot know, Like heart-broken exiles, lie burning below; Whilst the vessel drives on to that desolate shore Bright as the visions of youth, ere they Where the dreams of our childhood are vanished and o'er!' part, Passing away, like a dream of the heart! (Literary Souvener.) PARLIAMENTARY SPEECHES OF LORD BYRON. PARLIAMENTARY SPEECHES No. II. Debate on the Earl of Donoughmore's Motion for a Committee on the Roman Catholic Claims, April 21, 1815. (Continued from page 198.) IN the conduct pursued towards Maynooth college, every thing is done to irritate and perplex-every thing is done to efface the slightest impression of gratitude from the Catholic mind; the very hay made upon the lawn, the fat and tallow of the beef and mutton allowed, must be paid and accounted for upon oath. It is true, this economy in miniature cannot sufficiently be commended, particularly at a time wheu only the insect defaulters of the Treasury, your Hunts and your Chinnerys, when only those "gilded bugs" can escape the microscopic eye of ministers. But when you come forward session after session, as your paltry pittance is wrung from you with wrangling and reluctance, to boast of your liberality, well might the Catholic exclaim, in the words of Prior : "To Johu I owe some obligation, So John and I are more than quit." Some persons have compared the Catholics to the beggar in Gil Blas : Who made them beggars? Who are enriched with the spoils of their ancestors? And cannot you relieve the beggar when your fathers have made him such? If you are disposed to relieve him at all, cannot you do it without flinging your farthings in his face? As a contrast, however, to this beggarly benevolence, let us look at the Protestant Charter Schools; to them you have lately granted £41,000 thus are they supported, and how are they recruited? Montesquieu observes on the English constitution, that the model may be found in Tacitus, where the historian describes the policy of the Germans, and adds, "this beautiful system was taken from the woods;" so in speaking of the charter schools, it may be observed, that this beautiful system was taken from the gypsies. These schools are recruited in the same manner as the Janissaries at the time of their enrolment under Amurath, and the gypsies of the present day with stolen children, with children decoyed and kidnapped from their Catholic connexions by their rich and powerful Protestant neighbours: this is notorious, and one instance may suffice to shew in what manner. The sister of a Mr. Carthy (a 229 Catholic gentleman of very considerable property) died, leaving two girls, who were immediately marked out as proselytes, and conveyed to the charter school of Coolgreny; their uncle, on being apprised of the fact, which took place during his absence, applied for the restitution of his nieces, offering to settle an independence on these his relations; his request was refused, and not till after. five years struggle, and the interference of very high authority, could this Catholic gentleman obtain back his nearest of kindred from a charity charter school. In this manner are proselytes obtained, and mingled with the offspring of such Protestants as may avail themselves of the institution. And how are they taught? A catechism is put into their hands, consisting of, I believe, forty-five pages, in which are three questions relative to the Protestant religion; one of these queries is, "Where was the Protestant religion before Luther?" Answer, "In the Gospel." The remaining forty-four pages and a half regard the damnable idolatry of Papists! Allow me to ask our spiritual pastors and masters, is this training up a child in the way which he should go? Is this the religion of the Gospel before the time of Luther? that religion which preaches "Peace on earth, and glory to God?" Is it bringing up infants to be men or devils? Better would it be to send them any where than teach them such doctrines; better send them to those islands in the South Seas, where they might more humanely learn to become cannibals; it would be less disgusting that they were brought up to devour the dead, than persecute the living. Schools do you call them? call them rather dunghills, where the viper of intolerance deposits her young, that when their teeth are cut and their poison is mature, they may issue forth, filthy and venomous, to sting the Catholic. But are these the doctrines of the Church of England, or of churchmen? No, the most enlightened churchmen are of a different opinion. What says Paley? "I perceive no reason why men of different religious persuasions should not sit upon the same bench, deliberate in the same council, or fight in the same rauks, as well as men of various religious opinions, upon any controverted topic of natural history, philosophy, or ethics." It may be answered, that Paley was not strictly orthodox; I know nothing of his ortho doxy, but who will deny that he was an ornament to the Church, to human nature, to Christianity? I shall not dwell upon the grievance of tithes, so severely felt by the peasantry, but it may be proper to observe, that there is an addition to the burthen, a percentage to the gatherer, whose interest it thus becomes to rate them as highly as possible, and we know that in neany large livings in Ireland, the only resident Protestants are the tithe proctor and his family. Amongst many causes of irritation, too numerous for recapitulation, there is one in the militia not to be passed over, I mean the existence of Orange lodges amongst the privates; can the officers deny this? And if such lodges do exist, do they, can they tend to promote harmony amongst the men, who are thus individually separated in society, although mingled in the ranks? And is this general system of persecution to be permitted, or is it to be believed that with such a system the Catholics can or ought to be contented? If they are, they belie `human nature; they are then, indeed, unworthy to be anything but the slaves you have made them. The facts stated are from most respectable authority, or I should not have dared in this place, or any place, to hazard this avowal. If exagge rated, there are plenty as willing, as I believe them to be unable, to disprove them.' Should it be objected that I never was in Ireland, I beg leave to observe, that it is as easy to know something of Ireland without having been there, as it appears with some to have been born, bred and cherished there, and yel remain ignorant of its best interests. But there are, who assert that the Catholics have already been too much indulged; see (cry they) what has been done, we have given them one entire college, we allow them food and raiment, the full enjoyment of the ele ments, and leave to fight for us as long as they have limbs and lives to offer, and yet they are never to be satisfied! Generous and just declaimers! To this, and to this only, amount the whole of your arguments, when stript of their sophistry. Those personages remind me of a story of a certain drummer, who being called upon in the course of duty to administer punishment to a friend tied to the halberts, was requested to flog high, he did-to flog low, he did-to flog in the middle, he did-high, low, down the middle, and up again, but all in vain, the patient continued his complaints with the most provoking pertinacity, until the drummer, exhausted and angry, flung down his scourge, exclaiming, "the devil burn you, there's no pleasing you, flog where one will!" Thus it is, you have flogged the Catholic high, low, here, there, and every where, and then you wonder he is not pleased. It is true, that time, experience, and that weariness which attends even the exercise of barbarity, have taught you to flog a little more gently, but still you continue to lay on the lash, and will so continue, till perhaps the rod may be wrested from your hands, and applied to the backs of yourselves and your posterity. It was said by somebody in a former debate (I forget by whom, and am not very anxious to remember), if the Catholics are emancipated, why not the Jews? If this sentiment was dictated by compassion for the Jews, it might deserve attention, but as a sneer against the Catholic, what is it but the language of Shylock transferred from his daughter's marriage to Catholic emancipation— "Would any of the tribe of Barrabbas I presume a Catholic is a Christian, even in the opinion of him whose taste only can be called in question for his preference of the Jews. It is a remark often quoted of Dr. Johnson (whom I take to be almost as good authority as the gentle apostle of intolerance, Dr. Duigeaan), that he who could entertain serious apprehensions of danger to the Church in these times, would have "cried fire in the deluge." This is more than a metaphor, for a remnant of these antediluvians appear actually to have come down to us, with fire in their mouths and water in their brains, to disturb and perplex mankind with their whimsical outcries. And as it is an infallible symptom of that distressing malady with which I conceive them to be afflicted (so any doctor will inform your Lordships), for the unhappy invalids to perceive a flame perpetually flashing before their eyes, particularly when their eyes are shut (as those of the persons to whom I allude have long been), it is impossible to convince these poor creatures, that the fire against which they are perpetually warning us and themselves, is nothing but an ignis fatuus of their own drivelling imaginations. What rhubarb, senna, or "what purgative drug, can scour that fancy thence?"- It is impossible, they are given over, theirs is the true |