tiful echinus, and to the majestic
simplicity of the slightly indented flutings." He then suggests certain
improvements in the design, which would have made the bridge
"unexceptionably the most novel and the most tasteful in the metropolis.
Even as it is, it is scarcely surpassed for lightness, elegance, and
originality by any in Europe. It is of the same family with the
beautiful little bridge in Hyde Park, between the new entrance and the
barracks."

We are happy to quote the above praise on the construction of
_Macclesfield Bridge_, inasmuch as a critical notice of many of the
structures in the Regent's Park would subject them to much severe and
merited censure. The forms of bridges admit, perhaps, of more display of
taste than any other species of ornamental architecture, and of a
greater means of contributing to the picturesque beauty of the
surrounding scenery.

[1] Letter-press to Jones's "Metropolitan Improvements."

* * * * *

TRIBUTES TO THE DEAD, &c.

_(For the Mirror.)_

"When our friends we lose,
Our alter'd feelings alter too our views;
What in their tempers, teazed or distress'd,
Is with our anger, and the dead at rest;
And must we grieve, no longer trial made,
For that impatience which we then display'd?
Now to their love and worth of every kind,
A soft compunction turns the afflicted mind;
Virtues neglected then, adored become,
And graces slighted, blossom on the tomb."

CRABBE.

"It was the early wish of Pope," says Dr. Knox, "that when he died, not
a stone might tell where he lay. It is a wish that will commonly be
granted with reluctance. The affection of those whom we leave behind us
is at a loss for methods to display its wonted solicitude, and seeks
consolation under sorrow, in doing honour to all that remains. It is
natural that filial piety, parental tenderness, and conjugal love,
should mark, with some fond memorial, the clay-cold spot where the form,
still fostered in the bosom, moulders away. And did affection go no
farther, who could censure? But, in recording the virtues of the
departed, either zeal or vanity leads to an excess perfectly ludicrous.
A marble monument, with an inscription palpably false and ridiculously
pompous, is far more offensive to true taste, than the wooden memorial
of the rustic, sculptured with painted bones, and decked out with
death's head in all the colours of the rainbow. There i