that ‘the frame of the horse is stronger than machinery; but it cannot resist the wilfulness of human misrule.’ Yet, strangely enough, this gentleman, energetically as he speaks, has also failed to seek in mechanics a means of saving the shaft horse excessive and superfluous labour when going down hill, whether over slippery paving, or over rough country roads.
Amongst the societies which we rejoice to possess in England, there is one to prevent dangerous driving. How many of those who form this society have this sensible appendage to any of their own carriages, even those to which they daily trust their own necks? Accidents are not always the faults of drivers. About a year and a half ago, a brougham horse took fright at the engine whistle, and bolted down Ludgate Hill at a gallop. The weather was dry, and the hill not slippery. The coachman succeeded in turning into Farringdon Street (although it looked as if that was the way the horse wanted to go); yet, up the street, it ran into another carriage, and both were wrecked, and both horses very much hurt. Fortunately, no person was seriously injured on the occasion; but the pecuniary damage was great. If the coachman had had, close to his right hand, the handle of a brake which he could have instantly applied firmly to both wheels, he could have diminished the speed from the outset, and have stopped entirely before he came to the spot where the collision occurred; or, at least, he might have brought the speed down sufficiently to enable himself and the
