The South London Gas-Light and Coke Company, at Bankside:--The number of retorts was 140; gasometers 3; the contents of the whole 41,110 cubic feet; and their mains from 30 to 40 miles in length. At their other station in Wellington-street, they had then no retorts in action; but three large gasometers were erected, containing together 73,565 cubic feet, which were supplied from Bankside till the retorts were ready to work. The Imperial Gas-Light and Coke Company were erecting at their Hackney station two gasometers of 10,000 cubic feet each, and about to erect four more of the same size. At their Pancras station they had marked out ground for six gasometers of 10,000 cubic feet each. In the year 1814, there was only _one_ gasometer in Peter-street, of 14,000 cubic feet, belonging to the Chartered Gas-Light Company, then the only company established in London. At present there are four great companies, having altogether 47 gasometers at work, capable of containing in the whole 917,940 cubic feet of gas, supplied by 1,315 retorts, and these consuming 33,000 chaldron of coals in the year, and producing 41,000 chaldron of coke. The whole quantity of gas generated annually being upwards of 397,000,000 cubic feet, by which 61,203 private, and 7,268 public or street lamps are lighted in the metropolis. In addition to these great companies, there are several private companies, whose operations are not included in the foregoing statements.--_Abridged from Matthews's History of Gas-Lighting, and the London Magazine, Dec. 1827_. * * * * * SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS. * * * * * LONDON LYRICS. MAGOG'S PROPHECY. Pastor cum traheret per freta navibus. HOR. _lib._ i. _od._ 15. As late, of civic glory vain, The Lord Mayor drove down Mincing-lane, The progress of the baimer'd train To lengthen, not to shorten: Gigantic Magog, vex'd with heat, Thus to be made the rabble's treat, Check'd the long march in Tower-street, To tell his Lordship's fortune. "Go, man thy barge for Whitehall Stair; Salute th' Exchequer Barons there, Then summon round thy civic chair To dinner Whigs and Tories-- Bid Dukes and Earls thy hustings climb; But mark my work, Matthias Prime, Ere the tenth hour the scythe of Time Shall amputate, thy glories. "Alas! what loads of food I see, What Turbots from the Zuyder Zee, What Calipash, what Calipee, What Salad and what Mustard: Heads of the Church and limbs of Law, Vendors of Calico and Straw, Extend one sympathetic jaw To swallow Cake and Custard. "Thine armour'd Knights their steeds discard' To quaff thy wine 'through helmet barr'd,' While K.C.B.'s, with bosoms starr'd, Within their circle wedge thee. Even now I see thee standing up, Raise to thy lip 'the loving cup,' Intent its ruby tide to sup, And bid thy hearers pledge thee.