steamship, to be brought out presently by a company.

A year and more passed away, the new vessel was completed, and nearly
the same party again invited to see the result, and make trial of it.
I repaired with the rest. Nothing more generous or hospitable could be
conceived. There was to be a banquet at Calais, with a free ticket on
to Paris. It was a gloomy iron-gray morning. The strange outlandish
vessel, which had an engine at each end, was crowded with
_connoisseurs_. But I was struck with the figure of the amiable and
brilliant inventor, who was depressed, and received the premature
congratulations of his friends somewhat ruefully. We could see the
curious 'swinging saloon' fitted into the vessel, with the ingenious
hydraulic leverage by which it could be kept nicely balanced. But it
was to be noted that the saloon was braced firmly to the sides of its
containing vessel; in fact, it was given out that, owing to some
defect in its mechanism, the thing could not be worked that day.
Nothing could be handsomer than this saloon, with its fittings and
decorations. But, strange to say, it was at once seen that the
principle was faulty, and the whole impracticable. It was obvious that
the centre of gravity of so enormous a weight being brought to the
side would imperil the stability of the vessel. The bulk to be moved
was so vast, that it was likely to get out of control, and scarcely
likely to obey the slight lever which worked it. There were many
shakings of the engineering heads, and some smiles, with many an '_I
told you so_.' Even to the outsiders it seemed Utopian.

However, the gloomy voyage was duly made. One of the most experienced
captains known on the route, Captain Pittock, had been chosen to pilot
the venture. He had plainly a distrust of his charge and the
new-fangled notion. Soon we were nearing Calais. Here was the