We have stood for a few minutes on the eastern side of London Bridge, looking upon the sight which arrests even the dullest imagination-mast upon mast, stretching farther than the eye can reach, the individual objects constantly shifting, but the aggregate ever the same. We pass to the western side, and descend the steps of the bridge. We are in a narrow and dirty street, and we look up to the magnificent landarch which crosses it. A turn to the left brings us to the river. A bell is ringing; we pass through a toll-gate, paying a penny, and in a few seconds are on board one of the little steam-boats, bearing the poetical name of some flower, or planet, or precious gem. The pilot goes to the helm; the broad plank over which the passengers have passed into the boat is removed; the cable by which it is attached to the pier, or to some other boat, is cast off. The steam is up. For a minute we appear as if we were passing down the river; but, threading its way through a dozen other steam-winged vessels, the boat darts towards the Surrey shore; and her prow is breasting the ebbing tide. What a gorgeous scene is now before us! The evening sun is painting the waters with glancing flames; the cross upon the summit of that mighty dome of St. Paul's shines like another sun; churches, warehouses, steam-chimneys, shot-towers, wharfs, bridges the noblest and the humblest things-all are picturesque; and the eye, looking upon the mass, sees nothing of that meanness with which our Thames banks have been reproached. In truth, this juxtaposition of the magnificent and the common fills the mind with as much food for thought as if from London Bridge to Westminster there was one splendid quay, curtaining the sheds, and coal-barges, and timeworn landings which meet us at every glance. The ceaseless activity with which these objects are associated renders them even separately interesting. We see the goings-on of that enormous traffic which makes London what it is: and whilst we rush under the mighty arches of the iron bridge, and behold another, and another, and another spanning the river, looking as vast and solid as if they defied time and the elements; and also see the wharfs on the one bank, although the light be waning, still populous and busy,—and the foundries, and glass-houses, and printing-offices, on the other bank, still sending out their dense smoke, we know that without this never-tiring energy, disagreeable as are some of its outward forms, the splendour which is around us could not have been. But the boat stops. Without bustle, some twenty passengers leave us at Blackfriars Bridge, and as many come on board. The operation is finished in a minute or two. We are again on our way. We still see the admixture of the beautiful and the mean, but in another form. The dirty Whitefriars is the neighbour of the trim Temple. Praised be the venerable Law which has left us one green spot, where trees still grow by our river side, and which still preserves some relics of the days that are gone! Another bridge, perhaps the noblest, is again passed; and the turrets and pinnacles of Westminster are spread before us, with the smart modern mansions that have succeeded the old palatial grandeur of the seventeenth century. The sight is not displeasing, when we reflect that the ground upon which once stood some dozen vast piles, half house and half fortress, is now covered with hundreds of moderate-sized dwellings, filled with comforts and even luxuries unknown to the days of rushes and tapestry, into whose true sanctuaries no force can intrude, and where, if there be peace within, there is no danger of happiness being disturbed by violence without. But we are at Hungerford-wharf. The greater portion of the freight is discharged, ourselves amongst the number. The boat darts through Westminster Bridge, and farther onward to Chelsea. We are in the Strand as the gas-lights are peeping; and we are thinking of what the Strand is, and what it was.

NO. XXIII. THE DOCKS, AND THAMES TUNNEL.

XXIII. THE DOCKS.

WE may trace the vastness of London, the varied character of its external features, and the wonderful diversity which its social aspects present, to three distinct causes. First, its official supremacy, as the residence of the sovereign, the seat of the government and legislature, and all the most important departments of the state; secondly, its manufacturing industry; and, thirdly, its commercial importance as a port. Any one of these elements would nourish a large amount of population; but without the two latter it would be kept within moderate limits, and it is chiefly in consequence of their influence that London is twice as large as Paris.

That portion of London connected with the port and shipping differs so much from the districts appropriated to manufactures, and from all others possessing a special character of their own, as to constitute one of the most distinct divisions of the metropolis. It embraces, on the northern side of the river, a district extending eastward from Tower Hill, and comprising Wapping and Ratcliffe Highway, Shadwell, Limehouse, Poplar, and Blackwall; and, on the other side, commences with Tooley Street, and comprehends Rotherhithe and all along the river to Deptford. The general characteristics of the district have already been noticed (No. 20). We therefore devote the present number to an account of one of its great features-the Docks.

The stranger, especially from an inland county, who takes a passage by one of the steamers which leave London Bridge every quarter of an hour for Greenwich, will be astonished at the apparently interminable forests of masts which extend on both sides of the channel, where a width of three hundred feet should be kept for the purposes of safe navigation, but which the crowd of ships from all quarters of the globe, of colliers, coasters, steam-boats, and river-craft, renders it difficult for the harbourmasters to maintain. If the tide be running upward, laden coal-barges are thronging the channel, proceeding to the wharfs in the upper part of the river; and colliers at their moorings are at all times discharging their cargoes into barges alongside. By the regulations of the coal trade only a certain number of coal-ships are allowed to unload at the same time, the others remaining lower down the river until their turn arrives; and the coal-meters, who are appointed by the City, are also limited in number. But for these restrictions, the river would present a still more crowded appearance, as it has happened that above three hundred colliers have arrived in the Lower Pool in one day; and even now a very large portion of the river is occupied by this one branch of commerce. Forty years ago, not only coal-ships, but vessels of every other kind, discharged their cargoes into lighters while at anchor in the stream; but such a practice would now be impossible, so great has been the increase of commerce. East Indiamen generally only came as far as Black wall, where they discharged their cargoes into decked lighters of from fifty to one hundred tons, and, the hatchways being secured under lock and key, they proceeded to the wharfs. West India ships discharged in the river, and the cargoes were also conveyed in lighters to the legal quays. All other vessels, except they were of small size, were in like manner compelled to use lighters in discharging their cargoes. At the present time six-sevenths of the barges and river-craft are solely employed in transporting the cargoes of coal, corn, and timber ships, so small a proportion as one-seventh only being required for

the conveyance of all other commodities, the chief of which are of a bulky kind, and do not offer any great temptation to pilferers. In 1792 the number of barges and craft required for the traffic between the ships in the river and the quays was 500 for timber and 1180 for coal, each averaging thirty-three tons; 402 lighters of thirtynine tons; 338 punts of twenty tons; 57 lugger-boats of twenty-four tons; 6 sloops of twenty-seven tons; 10 cutters of seventy-one tons; and 10 hoys of fifty-eight tons; making a total of 2503 craft. Property of the most costly and valuable description, and every kind of merchandise, was daily exposed to plunder in these open boats, for only the lighters of the East India Company were decked, and it was considered that even they afforded a very insufficient protection. The temptation to pilfer was almost irresistible, those who were honestly disposed taking their share under the plea that wastage and leakage were perquisites. So many persons were engaged in the work of depredation on the river, that it was carried on in the most daring and open manner-lightermen, watermen, labourers, the crews of ships, the mates and officers in some instances, and to a great extent the officers of the revenue, being combined in this nefarious system; while on each side of the river there was a host of receivers, some of them persons of opulence, who carried on an extensive business in stolen property. In 1798 the Thames Police, called then the Marine Police, was instituted for the repression of these offences, but the source of the evil was still untouched, the temptation remaining undiminished so long as the exposure of property was rendered unavoidable by the absence of sufficient accommodation in quays and warehouses.

In 1558 certain wharfs, afterwards known as the "legal quays," were appointed to be the sole landing-places for goods in the port of London. They were situated between Billingsgate and the Tower, and had a frontage of 1464 feet by 40 wide, and of this space 300 feet were taken up by landing-stairs and by the coasting-trade, leaving, in the year 1796, only 1164 feet for the use of the foreign trade. Other wharfs had, it is true, been added from time to time, five of these, "sufferance wharfs," as they were called, being on the northern side of the river, and sixteen on the opposite side, comprising altogether a frontage of 3676 feet. The warehouses belonging to the sufferance wharfs were capable of containing 125,000 tons of merchandise, and 78,800 tons could be stowed in the yards. The want of warehouse-room was so great that sugars were deposited in warehouses on Snow Hill, and even in Oxford Street. Wine, spirits, and the great majority of articles of foreign produce, especially those on which the higher rate of duties was charged, could be landed only at the legal quays. In 1793 sugars were allowed to be landed at the sufferance wharfs, but the charges were higher than at the legal quays; extra fees had to be paid to the revenue officers for attendance at them, though at the same time they were inconveniently situated, and at too great a distance from the centre of business. The above concession to the sufferance wharfs was demanded by common sense and necessity, for the ships entered with sugar increased from 203, in 1756, to 433, of larger dimensions, in 1794. Generally speaking, the sufferance wharfs were used chiefly by vessels in the coastingtrade, and for such departments of the foreign trade as could not by any possibility be accommodated at the legal quays. Even in 1765, commissions appointed by the Court of Exchequer had reported that the latter were "not of sufficient extent, from which delays and many extraordinary expenses occur, and obstructions to the due collection of the revenue." But the commerce of London had wonderfully increased since that time, its progress in the twenty-five years from 1770 to 1795 having been as great as in the first seventy years of the century. The value of the exports and imports of London in 1700 was about ten millions sterling, and in 1794 about thirty-one