in a great town, with ships lying alongside. There is a roar
of passing drays, a cracking of draymen's whips, a howling of the
draymen. There is hot sunshine; there are clouds of dust; and I see
several poor fellows wheeling heavy casks in barrows up a narrow
plank into a ship. Their faces are red and puffy with the exertion:
their hair is dripping. Ah, the summer day is hard upon these poor
fellows! But it would be pleasant to-day to drive a locomotive engine
through a fine agricultural country, particularly if one were driving
an express train, and so were not worried by perpetual stoppages.
I have often thought that I should like to be an engine-driver.
Should any revolution or convulsion destroy the Church, it is to
that field of industry that I should devote my energies. I should
stipulate not to drive luggage-trains; and if I had to begin with
third-class passenger-trains, I have no doubt that in a few months,
by dint of great punctuality and carefulness, and by having my
engine always beautifully clean and bright, I should be promoted
to the express. There was a time when driving a locomotive was not
so pleasant as now. In departed days, when the writer was wont to
stand upon the foot-plates, through the kindness of engine-driving
friends now far away, there was a difficulty in looking out ahead:
the current of air was so tremendous, and particles of dust were
driven so viciously into one's eyes. But advancing civilization
has removed that disadvantage. A snug shelter is now provided for
the driver: an iron partition arises before him, with two panes of
glass through which to look out. The result is that he can maintain
a far more effectual look-out; and that he is in great measure
protected from wind and weather. Yes, it would be pleasant to be an
engine-driver, especially on such a day as this. Pleasant to look
at the great train of carriages standing in the station before
starting: to see the piles of luggage going up through the exertions