loak--which could only happen
where puddles formed the exception and not the rule--we read of Essex's
horse stumbling on a paving-stone in his mad ride to his house in the
Strand. We also prove, from Shakspeare's line--
"The very stones would rise in mutiny"--
the fact of stones forming the main body of the streets in his time; for
it is absurd to suppose that he was so rigid an observer of the unities
as to pay the slightest respect to the state of paving in the time of
Julius Caesar at Rome.
Gradually London took the lead in improving its ways. It was no longer
necessary for the fair and young to be carried through the mud upon
costly pillions, on the backs of high-stepping Flanders mares. Beauty
rolled over the stones in four-wheeled carriages, and it did not need
more than half-a-dozen running footmen--the stoutest that could be
found--to put their shoulders occasionally to the wheel, and help the
eight black horses to drag the ponderous vehicle through the heavier
parts of the road. Science came to the aid of beauty in these
distressing circumstances. Springs were invented that yielded to every
jolt; and, with the aid of cushions, rendered a visit to Highgate not
much more fatiguing than we now find the journey to Edinburgh. Luxury
went on--wealth flowed in--paviers were encouraged--coach-makers grew
great men--and London, which our ancestors had left mud, was now stone.
Year after year the granite quarries of Aberdeen poured themselves out
on the streets of the great city, and a million and a half of people
drove, and rode, and bustled, and bargained, and cheated, and throve, in
the midst of a din that would have silenced the artillery of Trafalgar,
and a mud which, if turned into bricks, would have built the tower of
Babel. The citizens were now in possession of the "fumum et opes
strepitumque Romae;" but some of the more quietly disposed, though
submitting patiently to the "fumum," and by no means displeased with the
"opes," thought the "strepitumque" could be dispensed with, and plans of
all kinds were proposed for obviating the noise and other inconveniences
of granite blocks. Some proposed straw, rushes, sawdust; ingenuity was
at a stand-still; and London appeared to be condemned to a perpetual
atmosphere of smoke and sound. It is pleasant to look back on
difficulties, when overcome--the best illustration of which is
Columbus's egg; for, after convincing the sceptic, there can be no
manner of doubt
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