healthful restraint, which we enjoy through the community's
strong, vigorous, moral and intellectual tone.

As there is nothing more wonderful about the present age, or more
characteristic of the times, than our mode of travelling, these
few pages shall be concluded with a plan of a very simple journey,
a journey which can be strongly recommended to all who are wishing
for change of scene and are somewhat bewildered in choosing a
route among the innumerable places in the world which have claims
on their attention. We will imagine that a party of twenty has
been made up, and that the start is from Halifax, the direction
eastward, and the destination Constantinople. The car which is
timed to start at 7 a.m., is standing at rest on the sloping side,
while the passengers, say fifty in number, are taking their seats
in the luxurious chamber within. The first stop is at Sydney,
Cape Breton, and the car is pointed accurately in that direction.
At three minutes to 7 the engineers and conductor come on board;
the former to place the powerful oxyhydrogen charge in the great
breech-loading tube, the latter to close the doors against ingress
or egress. Precisely at 7 the signal is given. A furious and
powerful hissing is then heard, as well as a momentary scraping of
the car on its runners. In another second she is high in the air,
and already Halifax has nearly receded from the engineer's sight.
The rate of a mile in three seconds is kept up till Sydney rapidly
appears in view. In the next few seconds the engineer exerts his
skill and the car lands gracefully on the slide, still in brisk
motion. After a little scraping and crunching on the runners,
she pulls up at the station platform at the bottom of the decline,
ten minutes only after leaving Halifax. The next spring is made
to St. John's, Newfoundland, which is reached in fourteen minutes.