As, however, dreadful accidents have occurred to coaches when descending hills, a very simple expedient has been suggested, by which these accidents may be avoided. It is merely a strip of gravel, or broken stone, about one yard wide, and four or five inches deep, left on the near side of the hill, and never suffered to bind or diminish. This would afford that additional friction (technically called a bite) to the two near-side wheels, so that the necessity of a drag-chain (never to be trusted) would be done away with, and even in case of a hame-strap or pole-chain giving way, one wheel-horse would be able to hold back a coach, however heavily laden. No inconvenience to the road, it is observed, could arise from this precaution, as carriages ascending the hills would never be required to touch the loose gravel, it not being on their side of the road. This has been objected to, because some of the loose stones might find their way into the middle of the road. But, admitting this might be the case, a trifling attention on the part of the surveyor would obviate the objection. A man might be employed every second or third day to rake these stones back again. At the same time, it is obvious that the neat appearance of a road is not to be put in the scale against the limbs and lives of the people.--Some more permanent contrivance than loose stones even might be found. CARRIAGES. Of carriages, those with two wheels are the cheapest, lightest, and most expeditious; but, however sure-footed the horse, and however skilful the driver, they are comparatively dangerous vehicles. As to gentlemen’s carriages, in this country, it has justly been observed, that the view at Hyde Park Corner, on any fine afternoon, in the height of the London season, is enough to confound any foreigner, from whatever part of the world he may come. He may there see what no other country can show him. Let him only sit on the rail, near the statue, and in the space of two hours he will see a thousand well-appointed equipages pass before him to the Mall, in all the pomp of aristocratic pride, in which the horses themselves appear to partake. The stream of equipages of all kinds, barouches, chariots, cabriolets, &c., and almost all got up “regardless of expense,” flows on unbroken until it is half-past seven, and people at last begin to think of what they still call dinner. Seneca tells us that such a blaze of splendour was once to be seen on the Appian Way. It might be so--it is now to be seen nowhere but in London.