The Sun.
London, England, 1870-05-13 00:00:00

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EVENING EDITION

LONDON, FRIDAY, 111,4 Y 13, 1870.

Among the latest, as among the earliest, signs of
social improvement are the multiplying and the im-
proving of the means of communication. Show me
the roads of a nation, the philosopher might say, and I
will tell you how it is civilized. And the test is ap-
plicable alike to ancient and to modern times—to the
classic epoch and to the present generation. About
the grandest monument of the power and domina-
tion of the Roman people exists to the present hour
in various parts of Europe, and not least con-
spicuously here in England, in that broad, straight,
level (one might almost say indestructible) institu-
tion, the Roman Road. Nearly the first achieve-
ment adventured upon by the American backwood's-
men, again, after clearing their way, at the edge of
the axe, through the primeval forests, is to
lay down across the uncultivated wilderness
that most primative means of intercommunication
among the sparsely scattered colonists of the new
territory—the corduroy-road, or highway composed
of trunks of trees ranged, parallel to each other, at
right angles to the drift of the traffic. Along the
boundary mark between Tartary and the Empire of
China, there still extends, as there has extended for
centuries, one of the World's Wonders, in the shape
of a wide and elevated roadway stretching across
that portion of the vast Asiatic continent,
known for ages as the Great Wall of the
Chinese. Conspicuous, among the achievements
of NAPOLEON, was the Road of the Simplon.
Conspicuous, moreover, to this moment, among the
monumental glories of Ancient Rome, are the Via
Appia and the Via Sacra. Even in the disentombed
city of Pompeii, one of the most remarkable objects
revealed to the gaze of remote and alien generations',
after its burial for nearly two thousand years, is the
solid granite pathway intersecting the ruins—worn
into ruts by the wheels of vehicles long gone to des-
truction, dotted with stepping-stones, here and there,
for the convenience of long perished foot-passengers,
and channelled by the rills of rains that have long
since been drained away or evaporated. Precisely as
it was then, it is now—the first and last effort of every
civilized race is to improve and to multiply—and this
quite equally in the provinces and in the great capi-
tals—the appliances of traffic and the means or me-
dia of inter-communication. All those wonderful
transformations which have taken place within our
own recollection in the French capital, for example,
may be summarized in a single phrase, as the open-
ing up of newer, straighter, broader, more direct and
more commodious lines of communication, in the form
of grander streets and nobler boulevards: For a long
while, very piecemeal and very blunderingly, we
have been endeavouring to do the like here, in
our own metropolis. Every new method
that could be devised for the improvement of
our carriage-ways has been tried in turn, often
resulting in failures the most ludicrous. Macada-
mized roads—blocks of granite wedged and cemented
carefully together—asphalte poured down in a liquid
state and then allowed to solidify— caoutchouc even
employed in the same way, to deaden, if possible,
the noise of the traffic—nay, at one time that tem-
porary road, constructed through the heart of the
city with'wooden blocks which suggested to SYDNEY
SMITH the ludicrous conceit that it might powzibiT be
improved if. the Aldermen and Common Couneilmen
would only consent there—to lay their heads
together ! Satisfied during these last few
years with indulging in fewer experimental endea-
vours to discover something in the way of improve-
ment in the selection of the materials, we havebeen lat-
terly directing our energies, with a little more wisdom,
to the opening up of new channels of communication,
north and south, east and west, in this " province of
houses" called London and Westminster. What
was hitherto the back entrance to the capital of Eng-
land, has been rendered at last its noblest approach
—meaning the " Silent Highway" of the Thames,
crossed by its magnificent bridges, and bordered on
either hand by the splendid granite esplanade of the
Embankment. The hideous and dangerous gap be-
tween Holborn Hill and Snow Hill has been
spanned at length by the lofty Viaduct. Parallel,
or nearly parallel, to the double arch of the
Tunnel burrowed under the river by the genius
of BRUNEL, there has been, just now, run with
extraordinary rapidity, the single bore of the Tower-
hill Subway. Right and left the most vigorous
efforts are still being made in all directions
for the widening and straightening of the streets
generally, but particularly of the principal thorough

fares of London. But still to this day there remain some
evils, and those the most glaring that well could be,
that one almost despairs of seeing removed
or rectified. Holywell Street yet festers close by
the hideous waste site of that Palace of Justice, the
commencement of which is indefinitely postponed.
The miserable block of buildings forming the southern
side of that same wretched Holywell-street yet nar-
rows the eastern portion of the Strand by remaining
wedged in between St. Mary-le-Strand and St.

Clement Danes. Temple Bar, instead of being re

moved and rebuilt, hard by, as one of the en-
trances to the Temple, still forms the camel's eye
entrance from the \Vest-end into the City of Lon-

don. Leicester-square is yet left, in the very centre
of the metropolis, a howling wilderness of broken
statuary and rusty, iron rails. And last and, per-
haps, most ludicrous of all the many absurdities and
anomalies still conspicuous among the more eccen-

tric peculiarities of London, almost all the leading
thoroughfares of this vast capital run parallel to each
other between East and West, without there being a
single street or highway of any note extending
from Northwards to Southwards.

America has long borne the palm in serious acci-
dents and overwhelming calamities, and it seems as
if she were destined to maintain the superiority. The
latest arrivals of American papers contain full parti-
culars of the tragedy which took place at Richmond
on the 27th of April. Those who were most horrified
by the recital of the telegrams which announced the
disaster must feel an additional shock when they
dwell on the minute details and realise the fearful
character of the affair. The court room which gave
way is over the Hall of the House of Delegates, and
was crowded with persons eager to hear the decision
of the Court of Appeals in a case of interest which
was impending. Suddenly the court room gave way,
and sunk with its load of human beings into the hall
of the House of Delegates below. Imagination can
hardly picture a scene of greater confuiion or of more