What were the citizens doing while Henry III and his dear wife ruined the bridge by confiscating her revenues? Did they believe that everybody’s affair was nobody’s business, and that they would be asked to mend the bridge if they drew attention to her condition? As to Edward I, he kept his hand away from his own pocket, and personated charity that for ever begs. “Each for Himself” was a policy that suited Edward; and his orders to the clergy proved that he knew it to be a policy which his loyal subjects followed as a habit. Hence the “pious exhortations,” with indulgences also, we may rest assured. The whole story is pitifully ironic. London had no other bridge over the Thames, yet the people looked on while a king and his wife played the part of bridge wreckers. Some protest there must have been, for London Bridge--a great street of timber houses--was more populous than many a village; and the tenants, like other Englishmen of those days, had no wish to be plunged into cold water. According to Stow’s “Annals,” five arches fell, so many houses also were lost, perhaps with their inmates. M. Jusserand believes that during the Middle Ages our English highways fared no better than London Bridge. His verdict runs thus: “Though there were roads, though property was burdened with obligatory services for their upkeep, though laws every now and again recalled their obligations to the possessors of the soil, though from time to time the private interest of lords and of monks, in addition to the public interest, suggested and directed repairs, yet the fate of a traveller in a fall of snow or in a thaw was very precarious. The Church might well have pity on the wayfarer; and him she specified, together with the sick and the captive, among those unfortunates whom she recommended to the daily prayers of pious souls.” There is a great deal of evidence to justify this verdict, but evidence in history depends on its choice; and in Thorold Rogers there are other facts that leave England with some efficient mediæval roads, along which horsemen could travel rapidly. Perhaps Rogers may have set too much store by his data; but when we study all the evidence, when we balance it carefully, and visualise all its pictures of well-tested negligence and crime, one thing is beyond all doubt: that the social rule, “Each for All, yet Each for Himself,” was a national catastrophe. Its first principle had a very precarious life, though incessant compulsion tried to drive it home to the people’s fear of revengeful laws; whereas the second principle--“Each for Himself”--was so popular as a creed that even the divine mysteries beyond death were assailed by egoists, who thought they could buy a place in heaven by giving lands and goods to the Church, no matter what harm they had done in a brief life upon earth. Study Erasmus in his wayfaring letters, and you will breathe the atmosphere of the Middle Ages.