“I pray you, do not fail to observe in these verses, how singularly and happily the burthen of the song often falls in with the subject of the new line: though I am half inclined to think, that the whole ballad has been formed by many fresh additions, in a long series of years, and is, perhaps, almost interminable when received in all its different versions. Mr. Green, in his letter which I last quoted, remarks that, the stanzas I have repeated to you are ‘the introductory lines of an old ballad, which, more than seventy years previous, he had heard plaintively warbled by a lady, who was born in the reign of Charles the Second, and who lived till nearly that of George the Second.’ Another Correspondent to the same Magazine, whose contribution, signed D, is inserted in the same volume, December, page 507, observes, that the ballad concerning London Bridge formed, in his remembrance, part of a Christmas Carol, and commenced thus: ‘Dame, get up and bake your pies, On Christmas day in the morning:’ ‘The requisition,’ he continues, ‘goes on to the Dame to prepare for the feast, and her answer is ‘London Bridge is broken down, On Christmas day in the morning.’ ‘The inference always was, that until the Bridge was rebuilt, some stop would be put to the Dame’s Christmas operations; but why the falling of a part of London Bridge should form part of a Christmas Carol at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, I am at a loss to know.’ This connection has, doubtless, long since been gathered into the ‘wallet which Time carries at his back, wherein he puts alms for oblivion;’ though we may remark, that the history and features of the old Bridge of that famous town had a very close resemblance to that of London; as you may find upon reading the Rev. John Brand’s ‘_History and Antiquities of the Town and County of the Town of Newcastle-upon-Tyne_.’ London, 1789. 4to. volume i., pages 31-53. The chief points of resemblance between these two Bridges, were, that both were founded in the hidden years of remote antiquity; that in each instance wooden Bridges preceded the stone ones; that to each was attached a Chapel dedicated to St. Thomas; that continual dilapidations and Patents for repair characterised each; that both formed a street of houses, having towers, gates, and drawbridges; and, finally, that in 1771, a violent flood reduced the Bridge of Tyne to the same hapless state as erst marked that of London, when ruinated by the terrible fire of 1757. Such, Mr. Postern, are the words, and such are the very few historical notices that I am able to give you, of a song, of which there is, perhaps, not a single dweller in the Bills of Mortality, who has not heard somewhat; and yet not one of whom can tell you more concerning it, than that they have heard it sung ‘many years ago,’ as the gossiping phrase is. If one might hazard a conjecture concerning it, I should refer its composition to some very ancient date, when London Bridge lying in ruins, the office