skilfully equipped and directed, would have broken through the hollow squares on the field of Waterloo-opened a passage for Napoleon's cavalry and changed the face of battle, as well as the fate of nations. The war-chariots of our ancient English queen (Boadicea) may possibly be renewed and introduced, under some future princess-and with more success, since they will, not only transport whole armies, with all their materiel, from point to point, with incredible velocity, but penetrate the densest lines, the firmest cohorts, the compactest squadrons, with as much certainty and ease, as a cannon ball would pass through a partition of pasteboard. A greater mass of men, arms, and ammunition could be defiled along the Manchester rail-road in one day, than along the Via Appia in a month, with Julius Cæsar to direct the expedition, and the fate of Rome dependent on the celerity of its movements!

But it is more pleasing to contemplate the effects of the steam-carriage in peace. By increasing the facilities of intercommunication, we multiply the products of human labour, mental as well as corporeal, and reduce their price. The steam-carriage lessens the distance (or the TIME, which is tantamount) between the inhabitants of a state, and thereby converts, as it were, a country into a city. By this kind of artificial approximation, we secure all the good effects of combination, without the detrimental consequences of a concentrated population. By it, Liverpool and Manchester are constituted one city, as regards all kinds of communication and commerce, while a fertile tract of thirty miles is placed between them.

The intercommunication, by steam, will enable us to change many millions of meadow into fields of wheat-and the provender of horses will be converted into food for man*.

* Every improvement in science and political economy, will be denounced by the "Laudatores temporis acti," the advocates of ancestral wisdom. The Manchester railroad, say they, will supersede the labour of two or three hundred horses! What a national calamity; especially when it is recollected that the said rail-road gives employment to treble that number of men! The same argument is applicable to all rail-roads, and all abbreviations of muscular labour, whether of man or animals. But there is hardly a doubt that the present mania for rail-roads will be the ruin of thousands of imprudent speculators. Rail-roads can only succeed in a limited number of favourable localities. In all England there is no locality so favourable for this mode of transport as the space between Manchester and Liverpool. It is extremely problematical whether the great lines of northern and western roads will repay the expense of rail-ways. Many lines at present projected, will be almost certain failures. The common steam-carriage, however, for ordinary roads, is likely to become much more general than rail-way steamers. As neither of the modes of transport are calculated to abridge the labour of man, but only of horses, they cannot but prove beneficial to the country-provided speculation does not overstock the market.

Having passed and repassed between Liverpool and Manchester, several times, and in the different classes of conveyance, I marked accurately the phenomena of this most astonishing effort of human ingenuity, to abridge labour and save time. When the train is at full speed-say thirty or more miles in the hour-the sensations and the noise, produced by the vibrations of the machinery and the rotation of so many wheels, resemble a good deal those which would result from a troop of horse at full gallop, but all the animals in the most perfect unison of action and motion. Neither the vibrations, the sounds, nor the sight of surrounding objects, convey any unpleasant feeling to the passenger :on the contrary, to me, they communicated an exceedingly pleasurable sensation, but of a nature that cannot be described in words*.

The most disagreeable circumstance in the conveyance, occurs at the moment when the check is given to the engine, preparatory to each halt. At that instant, every carriage strikes against its neighbour, so that a general collision takes place along the whole line, communicating a kind of electric shock to the passengers. To this, however, we soon get accustomed, and the collision is greatly diminished by the intervention of springs to break the force of the shock.

Although the whole passage between Liverpool and Manchester is a series of enchantments, surpassing any in the "Arabian Nights," because they are realities not fictions ;-yet there are certain epochs in the transit, which are peculiarly exciting. These are, the startingsthe ascents-the descents-the tunnels-the Chat-moss-the meetings. At the instant of starting, or rather before, the AUTOMATON belches forth an explosion of steam, and seems, for a second or two, quiescent. But quickly the explosions are reiterated, with shorter and shorter intervals, till they become too rapid to be counted, though still distinct. These belchings or explosions more nearly resemble the pantings of a lion or a tiger, than any sound that has ever vibrated on my ear. During the ascent, they become slower and slower, till the AUTOMATON actually labours like an animal out of breath, from the tremendous efforts to gain the highest point of the elevation. The progression is proportionate; and before the said point is gained, the train is not moving faster than a horse could pace. With the slow motion of the mighty and animated machine, the breathing becomes more laborious-the growl more distinct-till, at length, the animal appears exhausted, and

* All rapid movements through the air are productive of a mixture of pleasing as well as of disagreeable sensations. The swing offers an illustration familiar to us all. When the oscillations are moderate, pleasure is the result-when immoderate, they occasion pain. How applicable is this rule to moral as well as physical enjoyments!

groans like the tiger when nearly overpowered in combat by the buffalo*.

The moment that the height is reached, and the descent commences, the pantings rapidly increase-the engine, with its train, starts off with augmenting velocity, and, in a few seconds, it is flying down the declivity like lightning, and with a uniform growl or roar, like a continuous discharge of distant artillery. At this period, the whole train is going at the rate of thirty-five or forty miles an hour! I was on the outside, and in front of the first carriage, just over the engine. The scene was magnificent, I had almost said, terrific. Although it was a dead calm, the wind appeared to be blowing a hurricane, such was the velocity with which we darted through the air. Yet all was steady; and there was something in the precision of the machinery that inspired a degree of confidence over fear-of safety over danger. A man may travel from the Pole to the Equator-from the Straits of Malacca to the Isthmus of Darien, and he will see nothing so astonishing as this. The pangs of Etna and Vesuvius excite feelings of horror as well as of terror-the convulsion of the elements, during a thunder storm, carries with it nothing of pride, much less of pleasure, to counteract the awe inspired by the fearful workings of perturbed nature; but the scene which is here presented, and which I cannot adequately describe, engenders a proud consciousness of superiority in human ingenuity, more intense and convincing, than any effort or product of the poet, the painter, the philosopher, or the divine. The projections or transits of the train through the tunnels and arches, are very electrifying. The deafening peal of thunder, the sudden immersion in gloom, and the clash of reverberated sounds in confined space, combine to produce a momentary shudder, or idea of destruction; a thrill of annihilation, which is instantly dispelled on emerging into the cheerful light.

The meetings or crossings of the steam trains, flying in opposite directions, are scarcely less agitating to the nerves, than their transits through the tunnels. The velocity of their course, the propinquity, or apparent identity of the iron orbits along which these meteors move, call forth the involuntary, but fearful thought of a possible collision, with all its horrible consequences! The period of suspense, however, though exquisitely painful, is but momentary; and, in a few seconds, the object of terror is far out of sight behind.

Nor is the rapid passage across the CHAT-MOSS, unworthy of notice. The ingenuity with which two narrow rods of iron are made to bear

*Those who have witnessed a pitched battle between the tiger and buffalo in Bengal, will understand what I mean.

whole trains of waggons, laden with many hundred tons of commerce, and bounding across a wide semi-fluid morass, previously impassable by man or beast, is beyond all praise, and deserving of eternal record. Only conceive a slender bridge, of two minute iron rails, several miles in length, level as Waterloo, elastic as whalebone, yet firm as adamant! Along this splendid triumph of human genius-this veritable via triumphalis-the train of carriages bounds with the velocity of the stricken deer; the vibrations of the resilient moss causing the ponderous engine and its enormous suite to glide along the surface of an extensive quagmire as safely as a practised skater skims the icy mirror of a frozen lake!

The first class or train is the most fashionable, but the second and third are the most amusing. I travelled one day from Liverpool to Manchester in the lumber train. Many of the carriages were occupied by the swinish multitude, and others by a multitude of swine.

These

last were, neat as imported," from the Emerald Isle, and therefore were naturally vociferous, if not eloquent. It was evident that the other passengers would have been considerably annoyed by the ORATORS of this last group, had there not been stationed in each carriage, an officer, somewhat analogous to the usher of the black rod, but whose designation on the rail-road, I found to be "COMPTROLLER of the GAMMON." No sooner did one of the long-faced gentlemen raise his note too high, or wag his jaw too long, than the "Comptroller of the Gammon" gave him a whack over the snout, with the butt end of his shillelagh-a snubber which never failed to stop his oratory for the remainder of the journey!

It is to be hoped that so valuable a discovery will not be overlooked by a reformed Parliament; and that a COMPTROLLER of the GAMMON" will henceforth be a standing, certainly not a sinecure office, in St. Stephen's. Probably an amateur or fancy operator of this kind may be found among the representatives themselves, who will volunteer to fill the office.

To conclude. Even in its present infancy of improvement, the steam-carriage, on the rail-road, appears to me to be a safer vehicle than the stage-coach. The rapid rate of driving, occasioned by competition, renders the outside of a coach dangerous, while the inside is disagreeable and fatiguing. The spirit of the horse can never be tempered to the precision of machinery and steam.

MIDLAND MOVEMENTS.

Strong excitement is naturally followed by exhaustion or languor. The gyrations of the spinning-jennies in Glasgow and Lanark kept my brain in a state of vertigo, till I ascended Skiddaw, and contemplated the magnificent panorama of nature, in a temperature little above the freezing point. Between Liverpool and Manchester, our velocipede movements caused such a state of sensorial excitement, that I dared not even to reconnoitre the immeasurable FACTORY-SYSTEM, where ten million of orbs were perpetually whirling round the grand centre of calico and cotton! There is a good deal also in names, as influencing the imagination. How would Manchester or Birmingham sound, as the title or theatre of an heroic poem? I do not deny that some striking scenes might be worked up between the weavers and knife-grinders of these great towns—or that the trades' unions might turn out a corps d'armée little inferior in numbers to the Grecian "Unions" on the plains of Troy. But the atmosphere of Manchester was so impregnated with the miasmata of manufacture, that the body was all for work, and the mind rendered incapable of exertion! Fearing, therefore, that Manchester might prove a cave of Trophonius-or that its ale and porter might act like the waters of Lethe, and cause oblivion of all I had seen and heard on the tour, I made a precipitate retreat, and posted off for Derby.

As we approach BUXTON, the road, for many miles, is a continued ascent, till at length a cold, dreary, inhospitable region is attained, as frigid as Skiddaw. Buxton itself is situated in a slight depression of the mountainous summit; and it is very fortunate that VULCAN has placed one of his forges under the town, to supply its kettles and teaurns with boiling water for the use of strangers. This is a wonderful place. The cold winds give you rheumatism—and the hot waters cure you of it! Not wanting or wishing for either the disease or the remedy, I left Buxton without giving Sir Charles Scudamore a fee, or parboiling my body in one of his stew-pans.

I soon arrived at a place far more to my taste than BUXTON, namely, MATLOCK. This is most beautifully situated in a winding dell, through which a fine river (the DERWENT) runs, its banks clothed with wood, behind which, the white rocks of marble and limestone tower almost perpendicularly to various heights, from fifty to five hundred feet, assuming all kinds of fantastic shapes. Matlock is clustered on the right bank of the river, and partly perched on ledges, terraces, and