of hot porters: to see the numbers of passengers, old and young,
cool and flurried, with their wraps, their newspapers, their books,
at length arranged in the soft, roomy interiors; and then the sense
of power, when by the touch of a couple of fingers upon the lever,
you make the whole mass of luggage, of life, of human interests and
cares, start gently into motion; till, gathering speed as it goes,
it tears through the green stillness of the summer noon, amid
daisied fields, through little woody dells, through clumps of great
forest-trees, within sight of quiet old manor houses, across little
noisy brooks and fair broad rivers, beside churchyard walls and
grey ivied churches, alongside of roads where you see the pretty
phaeton, the lordly coach, the lumbering waggon, and get glimpses
that suggest a whole picture of the little life of numbers of your
fellow-men, each with heart and mind and concerns and fears very
like your own. Yes, my friend, if you rejoice in fair scenery,
if you sympathize with all modes of human life--if you have some
little turn for mechanics, for neatness and accuracy, for that
which faithfully does the work it was made to do, and neither less
nor more: retain it in your mind as an ultimate end, that you may
one day drive a locomotive engine. You need not of necessity become
greasy of aspect; neither need you become black. I never have known
more tidy, neat, accurate, intelligent, sharp, punctual, responsible,
God-fearing, and truly respectable men, than certain engine-drivers.

Remember the engine must be a locomotive engine. Your taste for
scenery and life will not be gratified by employment on a stationary
one. And it is fearfully hot work on a summer day to take charge
of a stationary steam-engine; while (perhaps you would not think
it) to drive a locomotive is perfectly cool work. You never feel,
in that rapid motion, the raging flame that is doing its work so