Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Giant steam
 The romance of printing
 The iron horse
 The night express
 The race to Edinburgh
 A ride on an engine
 What is electricity?
 The electric light
 The romance of the telegraph
 The electric telegraph
 The telephone
 The phonograph
 The first spinners and weavers
 The sewing machine
 Back Matter
 Back Cover

Group Title: Children's favourite series
Title: My book of inventions
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00084245/00001
 Material Information
Title: My book of inventions
Series Title: Children's favourite series
Physical Description: 190, 1 p. : ill. ; 20 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Arnold, Edward ( Publisher )
Gresham Press ( Printer )
Unwin Brothers (Firm) ( Printer )
Publisher: Edward Arnold
Place of Publication: London
Manufacturer: Gresham Press ; Unwin Brothers
Publication Date: [1896?]
Subject: Inventors -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Inventions -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Physical sciences -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1896   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1896   ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1896   ( rbgenr )
Prize books (Provenance) -- 1896   ( rbprov )
Bldn -- 1896
Genre: Children's stories
Children's poetry
Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
Prize books (Provenance)   ( rbprov )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
England -- Chilworth
General Note: Date of publication from prize inscription.
General Note: Publisher's advertisements precede text.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00084245
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002234734
notis - ALH5170
oclc - 233022969

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Title Page
        Page 5
        Page 6
    Table of Contents
        Page 7
        Page 8
    Giant steam
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
    The romance of printing
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
    The iron horse
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
    The night express
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
    The race to Edinburgh
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
    A ride on an engine
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
    What is electricity?
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
    The electric light
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
    The romance of the telegraph
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
    The electric telegraph
        Page 149
        Page 150
    The telephone
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
    The phonograph
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
    The first spinners and weavers
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
    The sewing machine
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
    Back Matter
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text




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For Regular Artendr-ance anIcl
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le itireon's fjabourite ,eriet.
A charming Series of Juvenile Books, each plentifully Illustrated, and written
in simple language to please young readers. Handsomely bound, and designed
to form an attractive and entertaining series of gift-books for presents and prizes.
The utmost care has been taken to maintain a thoroughly healthy tone
throughout the Series, combined with entertaining and interesting reading.
Instances of daring and self-sacrifice.
Some of the most famous romances of industry.
Hairbreadth Escapes and Adventure Stories.
Some of the most marvellous things in the world.
A budget of sea stories for the children of Britannia.
A collection of exploits and adventures in all parts of the world.
Some of the most remarkable travels and explorations by great discoverers.
Old favourite stories which are never obsolete. Thirty original Illustrations.
Stories from the Bible narrative, told in simple yet dignified language.
Well-known exploits from English history, attractive to children.
A book of heroic and patriotic deeds, tending to inspire a love of courage,
bravery and devotion.
Chosen chiefly from the famous old Fables of JEsop and others dear to children
of all generations.
About.animals, the familiar pets of the house and the beasts of the forest.
Short verses and rhymes, which everybody loves, and which are the first to be
learned and the last to be forgotten by children.
Each Volume contains nearly 200 pages Imperial 16mo., and about
30 Illustrations.






[All rights reserved.]









GAS ...









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...... 26

...... ... 51

... 81

... .... ... 85

...... 91

... ... ... ... 101

.... 106

... ... ... ... 117

...... 124

GRAPH ... ... ... 132

...... 149

S... ..... ... 151

... ... 157

EAVERS .. ... ... 166

... ... ... 181



j.E HE fairy tales of the olden times contain
,1 ; many wonderful stories about giants who,
;:' by their enormous strength, were said to
Perform great deeds beyond the power of
-' tldinary men. Though the people of those
days never met the monsters of whom they
read, many of them thought that the stories were
We still enjoy these fanciful stories, and in our
younger days we are almost willing to believe
them. Yet there are tales of the present day more
wonderful than any fairy tales of long ago, and best
of all they are true.
We can say, with truth, there are giants in these


days-giants far more powerful than those we read
about in story books. Some of these giants have
been tamed and made to work. They have become
our servants, and under the guidance of man they
do most of.the world's work.
Two of these giants are found in all parts of the
world, though white men .have the most use of
them and have turned their great strength to the
best account. They are the cheapest servants in
the world, for they require no wages. They eat no
food, they need no clothes, they never sleep, nor
do they stop to rest. However hard they work
they are never tired, but go on day and night,
winter and summer, all the year round.
They are able to carry or move great weights
from place to place. They grind corn, weave cloth,
print books, saw wood, work pumps, and drive
every kind of machine. All they require is to be
provided with the proper tools and a man to guide
them. Sometimes, however, they seem to lose
their tempers, and then they quarrel and fight.
They are not able to hurt each other, but they
do great harm to any one who happens to be in
their way. They put forth all their power, and for
a time they are the masters and not the servants.
They often sweep all before them-men, and

I ii1



animals, and buildings, and ships are then de-
Can you tell me the names of these giants ?
You know them well. You have often seen them
at work. They are called Wind and Water.
These are two of the most useful giants in the
We have another giant so wonderful, that long
ago men regarded him as a god and worshipped
him. We have tamed him, and discovered that
though he is a bad master, he makes a very good
servant. We have always to keep him in prison,
as we dare not give him any freedom.
Sometimes he breaks loose and does terrible
mischief. He has been known to devour thousands
of trees and hundreds of houses. Nay, he has
devoured great forests and large towns in a few
days. He also kills people and utterly destroys
their property.
Unlike the other two giants, this one cannot
live without food. He eats almost everything.
He will feed on bread, and butter, and bacon, but
he would rather have paper, wood, or coal. He
also drinks oil and spirits, but he does not like
He is the best cook in the world. He can roast


beef, boil mutton, fry ham, and bake bread. He
takes careful watching, for if he is left too long by
himself he devours the articles he has to cook.
His power over iron, lead, gold, and silver is so
great that he can make them run like water.


He treats cups and saucers and plates and
bricks in quite another way. He makes them
hard and firm and strong. He is a friend to man
as well as a servant, for in winter time, when the


wind blows cold and the ground is covered with
snow, he makes our houses warm and comfortable.
His name is Fire.
There is another giant more wonderful still. He
can do better work than any of the three about
which we have been reading. He does not exist
in nature as they do. He has to be made. Two
of the other giants work together to produce him
when required. His name is Steam. He is made
by Fire and Water.
Steam is water made into vapour. It is like air,
very thin, very elastic, and invisible. You cannot
see it. You may think you can because people
often say, The steam is coming out of the spout
of the kettle, or out of the chimney of an engine."
But the white cloud that can be seen coming from
boiling water is not steam, it is a cloud of fog.
Steam is made by enclosing water in a kettle, or
boiler, or other vessel, and making it boil by
means of a fire. If the water is confined in a glass
vessel you can see it boiling, but you cannot see
any steam, yet it is there all the time.
Look at a kettle when the water is boiling
briskly. Go close to it and notice the spout from
which the steam is rushing. Close to the nose for
half an inch or more you cannot see anything.

~- -~~~~ -

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~-- ---~-r~-~~-~-~



That is steam. As soon as the cool air has turned
it into steam-fog or vapour you can see it. Heat
changes water into steam and cold turns steam
back again into water.
Steam is very powerful. It is one of the greatest
forces in the world. It works the engines which
draw trains, moves ships, turns machinery, and
does more work than all the men and all the horses
in the world. We see steam at work everywhere.
The world could not at present do without it,
though men have found out other forces which
are beginning to take its place. Yet at present
steam is more used than any other kind of power.
What is it that makes steam so powerful ? It
is this. Steam is always trying to spread itself, to
expand. A small quantity of water makes a good
deal of steam, and if the water is kept boiling the
steam must be let out or the boiler will-burst.
In the boiler of a steam engine the steam is shut
up very tightly, because the tighter it is shut up
the more powerful it is and the more it tries to
expand. To use this power in working an engine
some of the steam is allowed to pass out of the
boiler into a strong hollow case, like a barrel or a
large pipe, called a cylinder. There it is shut up
very tightly, and in trying to expand it forces a


rod to move backward and forward in a hole at one
end of the cylinder.


This rod is kept moving as long as the steam
passes from the boiler into the cylinder. The rod
causes a large wheel to move round and round, and


that turns the machinery, which is thus worked by
the engine.
The man whom we have to thank more than
any other for the steam engine was born at
Greenock in Scotland in 1736. His name is
James Watt.
He was such a weak little fellow that he could
not attend school like other children. His parents
therefore taught him at home. When he was only
six years old a neighbour saw him sitting on the
floor amusing himself by drawing various figures
with coloured chalk.
Why don't you send that boy to school ? he
said to the boy's father. He is wasting his time
doing nothing at home."
Look what he is doing," was the father's reply,
" before you say he is wasting his time."
The neighbour looked at the figures the boy was
drawing, and saw, to his surprise, that James was
busy making squares, and triangles, and curves.
Then he saw that the child knew far more than
many other boys who were much older than
Not far away from his home lived an aunt with
whom James often stayed. This aunt regarded
him as an idle boy, for she wrote to his parents to


say that her nephew "would sit for an hour at
a time taking off the lid of the tea-kettle, and
putting it on again, holding now a cup and now
a spoon over the steam, watching how it rises from
the spout, and catching and condensing the drops
of water it falls into."
She little dreamed that her "idle nephew," as
she called him, was taking his first lessons in a
science by which he would some day increase to
an enormous extent the working power of the
world, and make himself famous for ever.
James Watt's amusements, from his earliest
boyhood, were, indeed, very different from those
of other boys. His father kept a shop for the sale
of all kinds of articles used on board ship, and
James spent a great part of his time in finding out
how the different things were made, and to what
uses they were put.
When he was fifteen years old he was regarded
by all his friends as a wonder. He seemed to
know a bit about everything, and a good deal
about some things. He had read a great many
books about minerals and plants, and had begun
to study the stars.
He could also do all kinds of woodwork, and
make all sorts of machines. In the little room


where he worked he had cranes, pulleys, pumps,
and many other things that he had made.
At sixteen he went to work in the shop of a
mechanic in Glasgow, where he was employed in
mending spectacles, fiddles, and fishing tackle.
He only remained there for about two years. He
had then learned all his master knew, and he was
not satisfied.
At eighteen he set out for London with an old
sea captain, a friend of his father's, who took great
interest in the clever lad. They made the journey
on horseback, and spent ten days on the road, for
no one at that time had found out how to make
engines and construct railways.
When he arrived in London, James obtained
work with an instrument maker, and soon he
became a very skilful workman. His earnings,
however, were very small, and unwilling to be an
expense to his parents, he lived in very poor lodg-
ings, and took so little food that his health broke
down. He was therefore obliged to go back to
After this he opened a shop in Glasgow.
Though he called himself an instrument maker
he was very glad to do any odd jobs that came
in his way. Much of his time was spent in mend-


ing fiddles, flutes, and organs, though he knew
nothing about music.
One day he was asked to mend the model of an
engine. It was really a little engine which would
work when it was in order, like the large one of

I .'.- .- -- = -
";r ""^

which it was a model. James examined it very
carefully, and it set him thinking. It was a very
poor affair, but it was the best which had, up to
that time, been invented. Such an engine could
not do better or quicker work than horses, but it
showed Watt that something of the same kind,


worked by steam, would be of great use in many
He mended the model, and made it work all
right. Then he began to think out some way of
making a proper steam engine, which should be
able to do more and better work than any engine
yet invented.
Days, weeks, months, even years, passed away
and found James Watt still hard at work. During
this time, and when he was trying one plan after
another, he wrote to a friend, My whole thoughts
are bent on this machine; I can think of nothing
He had many difficulties to overcome, and some-
times he lost heart and almost gave up in despair.
Without money he had to work with poor tools,
and when his engine was completed it leaked in
all parts. It was then that he said, Of all things
in life there is nothing more foolish than inventing."
He was treading an uphill path, he could scarcely
obtain food for his family, and yet he felt that he
must go on. Once, when he was in London on
business, his brave-hearted wife wrote to him, "I
beg that you will not make yourself uneasy, though
things should not succeed to your wish. If the
engine will not do, something else will; never


It was a sad day for him when his wife died.
She had been "the comfort of his life." After
that he would often stop on the threshold of his
humble home before he had courage to enter, since
she was not there to help him. She had bravely
shared his poverty, but was never to share his
wealth and fame.
For at length success came as the result and
the reward of years and years of patient toil and
hardship and suffering. When his steam engine
was completed men regarded it with wonder, and
soon it was everywhere in demand. He entered
into partnership with Matthew Bolton of Soho,
near Birmingham, where the new engine was
At first it was chiefly used to pump water out
of mines. For even Watt himself, who had more
faith in the power of steam than any other man
of his day, had no idea how great a benefit he
had conferred on the world. He died long before
the first steam engine drew a train along an iron
road, or the first steamer crossed the ocean.
He was eighty-three years of age when, in 1819,
he rested from all his labours. In one of the
public squares of Glasgow a statue has been
erected to his memory, and in Westminster Abbey


there is also a beautiful statue of the great in-
ventor. They were erected to show the world how
much the people of this country esteemed the Man
who Improved the Steam Engine.
In the preface to The Monastery," Sir Walter
Scott says :
"It was only once my fortune to meet Watt,
when there were assembled about half a score of
our northern lights [Commissioners of Northern
Lighthouses]. Amidst this company stood Mr.
Watt, the man whose genius discovered the
means of multiplying our national resources to a
degree, perhaps, even beyond his own stupendous
powers of calculation and combination; bringing
the treasures of the abyss to the summit of the
earth-giving to the feeble arm of man the
momentum of an Afrite-commanding manufac-
tures to arise-affording means of dispensing
with that time and tide which wait for no man
-and of sailing without that wind which defied
the commands and threats of Xerxes himself.
This potent commander of the elements-this
abridger of time and space-this magician, whose
cloudy machinery has produced a change in the
world, the effects of which, extraordinary as they
are, are perhaps only beginning to be felt-was not


only the most profound man of science, the most
successful combiner of powers, and calculator of
numbers, as adapted to practical purposes-was
not only one of the most generally well informed,
but one of the best and kindest of human beings.
There he stood, surrounded by the little band
of northern literati. Methinks I yet see and hear
what I shall never see or hear again. In his
eighty-first year, the alert, kind, benevolent old
man had his attention at every one's question, his
information at every one's command. His talents
and fancy overflowed on every subject. One
gentleman was a deep philologist-he talked with
him on the origin of the alphabet, as if he had been
coeval with Cadmus; another, a celebrated critic-
you would have said that the old man had studied
political economy and belles-lettres all his life ; of
science it is unnecessary to speak-it was his own
distinguished walk."


BOUT five hundred years ago an old
S gentleman, named Lawrence Coster,
S lived in the ancient town of Haarlem in
Holland. It is a quaint, humdrum old
S place, with odd-looking houses, irregular
streets, and numerous canals. The upper
stories of the houses project so far over the lower
ones, that two persons in opposite houses can
easily enjoy a conversation with each other.
One house, which appears older than its neigh-
bours, is regarded with great interest, both by the
inhabitants and by strangers who happen to visit
the town. This house is said to have been the
dwelling of Lawrence Coster, and the good people
of Haarlem are proud to think that the man who
bore that name once lived in their city.
Coster had charge of the cathedral, but his
duties were so light that he had a good deal of
leisure. He therefore spent his spare time in




reading. Now in those days there were no printed
books, for the art of printing had not been in-
vented. The only books which existed were those
written on parchment and vellum, chiefly by
monks, and they were kept for safety in monas-
teries and churches.
Coster had no books of his own, for he was not
rich enough to buy one, but there were some
precious volumes in the church under his care.
To this little library he became so devoted that he
could scarcely tear himself away from the manu-
script volumes, and in the stillness of the sacred
building he read them again and again, until he
almost knew their contents by heart.
Just outside the city walls there are to this day
some famous woods, which for hundreds of years
have been the favourite resort of the citizens of
Haarlem. Here, in the short cloak and sugar-loaf
hat of the period, Coster loved to walk and ponder
over the subjects he had read.
Sometimes he sat on the trunk of a tree, and
with his knife cut out the forms of the letters of
the alphabet in the smooth beech bark. Some of
these letters he put in his pocket and carried home
as playthings for his little grandchildren. In this
way they first learned the names of the letters.


The old man became very expert in cutting out
letters, and he took great pleasure in fashioning
them to the best of his ability. One day he was
more than usually successful. To preserve these
letters he wrapped them up in a bit of old parch-
ment that he had in his pocket.
When he had given the letters to the child the
bit of parchment was thrown aside, and for a time
forgotten. At length one of the children picked
it up, and, looking at it, said, "Look, grandfather!
See what the letters have done "
Coster looked at the parchment with interested
eyes, for there on its surface was an imprint of the
letters. When he cut them the bark had been
moist with sap, and this had served as ink and
caused the letters to mark an impression on the
The old man was sharp enough to see that the
form which had stamped one letter might be used
to stamp many letters, and that by placing them
in order words and sentences could be formed.
This he saw could be done much quicker than
writing by hand, and therefore at a much less cost.
He at once set to work and cut out a number
of letters in wood: these he inked over, and then
stamped them on the parchment. What could


have been simpler than this little incident ?-and
yet it was one of the most important discoveries
ever made. Coster had really invented the art of
printing with movable types.
Every spare moment was now employed in
cutting letters in wood and metal, and stamping
them on parchment. But he was not allowed to
pursue his employment in peace. His ignorant
and superstitious neighbours regarded him as a
madman, and some of them even spoke of him as
a sorcerer, and therefore one to be avoided.
Coster saw their growing dislike to his experi-
ments, and fearing persecution, he continued his
work in secret.
One day a sturdy young German, named John
Gutenberg, was passing on foot through Haarlem,
when he heard of the strange doings of the old
Dutchman. He knew the importance of the
information he had received, for he had been
trying experiments of the same kind in his home
at Strasburg.
With a beating heart Gutenberg sought an
interview with Coster, who eagerly welcomed his
visitor, and gladly showed him the work he had
done. In rapt attention the youth watched
the old man stamp letter after letter on the parch-


meant, and looked with vnd, r on a book which
Coster had laboriously printed and awkwardly
stitched together.
The desire to see foreign countries had led
Gutenberg to set out on the journey which had
brought him to Haarlem, but the interview with
Coster put an end to his wanderings. From this
day forth," he said, I will work on this problem,
and not rest until I have solved it."
This is the story of the invention of printing-as
told by those who regard Coster as the inventor of
this useful art. The Germans, however, give all
the honour to their own countryman, Gutenberg,
who was a man of considerable skill, a stonecutter,
and a polisher of glass. It is impossible now to
decide between the rival claims as there is no
certain evidence on either side. When and where
Gutenberg made his first attempts in the art of
printing cannot be ascertained. The question
whether the invention took place in Holland or in
Germany has been fiercely debated for nearly four
hundred years, and a great many books have been
written on the subject.
We must, however, remember that this inven-
tion refers to the use of movable types in printing,
for beyond doubt the Chinese practised printing


from blocks at a much earlier period. Their plan
was to engrave the designs on pieces of wood large
enough to print two pages. The block was then
inked with a brush and the paper pressed on the
design to receive the impression. This plan is
still used in the Celestial Empire.
And now to return to Gutenberg. It is said
that he stole Coster's types and hurried back to
Strasburg, where he set about the great work of
perfecting the art of printing. But he also had
to carry out his plans with the utmost secrecy.
In that age of superstition and ignorance the
people regarded every new thing as the result of
evil magic, and to say that a man had dealings
with the evil one caused him to be persecuted and
to risk being put to death.
While Gutenberg was devising plans to experi-
ment in secret, he thought of an old ruined monas-
tery, which stood in a lonely and deserted place a
few miles from the town. Thither he repaired, and
first fitted up a room as a jeweller's shop, in which
he kept two young men at work polishing precious
stones and repairing trinkets.
Then he found an obscure cell in a corner of
the old building, with a great oaken door, which
had heavy bolts. To this secret place he conveyed


his tools, and then shutting himself up he began
to work. Here he made metal types and a rude
printing press. Then he began to print books.


Absorbed in his work, he remained so much away
from his assistants in the jeweller's shop, that they


became suspicious of his movements. They, there-
fore, went to the magistrates of Strasburg, and told
all about his long absences and the mystery that
surrounded him. His work was dragged forth to
the light of the world, and he was obliged to flee
from Strasburg to save his life.
Proceeding to his native city, Mainz, on the
Rhine, Gutenberg set up his press and once more
resumed printing. As he had not enough money
to carry on the work he formed a partnership with
a rich silversmith, named John Faust or Fust, who
took an oath of secrecy, and supplied him with
money, on condition that after a certain time it
should be repaid.
Then Gutenberg, assisted by Schoeffer, Faust's
son-in-law, set to work in earnest, and soon suc-
ceeded in producing several works of a religious
character. The very success of these first attempts
brought misfortune on Gutenberg. The priests had
no love for the new art, by which people could read
for themselves, and the scribes or writers of books
were afraid that they would be deprived of their
The opposition of these two bodies was so great
that Gutenberg was at length driven penniless out
of the city. It is said that Faust turned their anger


chiefly against his partner and managed to make
friends with them himself. Anxious to get rid of
Gutenberg, Faust brought an action against him
for the repayment of the money he had advanced.
As Gutenberg could not pay back the loan, he had


to give up everything, and Faust secured all the
tools, presses, and unfinished work, among which
was a Bible about two-thirds completed.
Faust, aided by Schoeffer, then hurriedly finished
the work, and, to disarm all suspicion, sold it as a
manuscript. Two copies of this Bible may be seen


in a library in Paris; there is also one in the Royal
Library at Munich, and another at Vienna. This
great work, the first Bible printed from movable
types, is in two large volumes, each of about two
hundred pages. It is in Latin, and printed in
black Gothic type. Many of the words are abbre-
viated, and all are packed so closely together as to
puzzle the eyes of the reader.
Gutenberg was for a time very poor and unable
to find a home, until the ruler of Nassau offered
him his protection. In that quiet town the inventor
set up his press again and was allowed to carry on
his work in peace. He printed many books, which
bear his name,.and though he did not grow rich,
he lived in comfort until his death in 1468 at
the age of sixty-nine. Many years afterwards a
statue was erected to his memory in Mainz by
the descendants of those who had driven him
forth, a beggar, from his native city.
At this time there lived in London a man named
William Caxton. He left his native country in
1441 and carried on a business in Bruges, where he
became the governor of a society of English mer-
chants in Flanders. In 1471 he gave up business
and attached himself to the household of Margaret,
Duchess of Burgundy, the sister of Edward the



Fourth, King of England. He was engaged as
a copyist, and his time was spent in laboriously
writing out various works for his royal mistress.
Caxton saw the value of the new invention, and
having acquired a thorough knowledge of the art
of printing, he returned to England and set up a

press in a building adjacent to Westminster Abbey.
Here he printed nearly one hundred books, some of
which exist to the present day.
In the preface to his first printed work, "The Tales
of Troy," he says, Forasmuch as in the writing
of the same my pen is worn, my hand is weary and


not steadfast, mine eyes dimmed with overmuch
looking on the white paper, and my courage not so
prone and ready to labour as it hath been, and that
age creepeth daily and feebleth all the body, and
also because I have promised to divers gentlemen

I -- d- "-!-"I h~ ''l i'- ii 'l'r

and to my friends to address to them as hastily as
I might the said book, therefore I have practised
and learned at my great charge and dispense to
ordain this said book in print after the manner and
form as ye may see, and is not written with pen
and ink as other books be, to the end that every


man may have them at once, for all the books of
this story here emprynted as ye see were begun in
one day and also finished in one day."
The advertisement, put out by Caxton, ran as
follows: "If it please you, any man, spiritual or
temporal, to buy any pyes of two or three com-
memorations of Salisbury, all emprynted after the
present letter, which be well and truly correct, let
him come to Westminster in the almonry, and
he shall have them good chepe."
The King, and many of the chief men of the
time, gave him their patronage and friendship,
and his work was often carried on in the presence
of distinguished visitors. Caxton, the first English
printer, died in 1491, at the age of sixty-nine.
After his death, the men who had worked with
him continued to print books and looked forward to
" the happy day when a Bible should be chained in
every church, for every Christian man to look upon."
That day came in the reign of Henry the Eighth,
but for a long time the great cost of a printed book
placed it out of the reach of most of the people.
What would those early printers have thought if
they could have known that a time would come
when a Bible would be sold for tenpence.
The rude printing press, used by the first printers,




was a block of wood with a flat surface, which was
brought down on the types by means of a screw,
turned by a lever. The types, placed on a flat
stone, were fixed on a table and worked with large
soft balls with pelts. The work of printing was a
slow process, and two men could only produce
about 200 copies an hour printed on one side.
A much improved press was brought into use in
1800 by the Earl of Stanhope, whose name it bears,
but it was not till 1814, when steam power was
first used for this purpose, that much greater speed
was obtained. Then came a revolution in the art
of printing as important as that which took place
when movable types were first invented.
The screw gave place to a cylinder, or huge iron
roller, under which the types were passed and the
impression made. This press, driven by steam,
printed off 1,800 sheets an hour, or 900 printed on
both sides. It was first used in the Times office
on the 28th of November, 1814.
The pressmen had declared that they would
destroy any machine worked in this way, as they
feared that loss of employment would follow its
introduction. Knowing this, the work of prepara-
tion was carried on in secret, and on the morning
that the machine was first used, the men, who were


waiting to print the sheets, were informed that the
Times was already printed by steam They

were also told that no force or violence on their
part would prevent the work from being done in


this way, and if they were peaceable they would be
paid their wages until they obtained employment
In the paper appeared the following announce-
ment:-" Our journal of this day presents to the
public the practical result of the greatest improve-
ment connected with printing since the discovery
of the art itself. The reader now holds in his
hands one of the many thousand impressions of the
Times newspaper, which were taken off last night
by a mechanical apparatus."
Since then further improvements have been made
in the machines used for printing. Two cylinders
are used to print the sheet on both sides, while
passing once through the press. The paper is no
longer laid on in single sheets, but is supplied from
a huge continuous web four miles in length, in
the same way that thread is unwound from a reel.
The speed has also been increased, and 1,000
copies a minute can be thrown off. The paper is
also cut, folded, and, if need be, wrapped ready for
post, by appliances attached to the press. There
is not a more interesting sight in London than that
which may be seen any morning in the Strand,
when between three and five o'clock the daily
papers and weekly magazines are sent off to their


various destinations by a small army of men, horses,
and vans.
Since the birth of the penny daily paper in
1854, the progress of the press has been marked
by a succession of surprising bounds. From the
unpretending News Letter it has developed into
an omniverous monster, whose capacious jaws are
open in every part of the civilized world for any-
thing offered. To see the heterogeneous confusion
of subjects which form its food, is not only a source
of delight, but a necessity to millions of the human
race, whether they be the occupants of a royal
throne or of the squatter's station in the far-off
Australian wilds."
The appetite for this necessity of London alone
is so great that it requires to be satisfied with
sufficient matter, which, when printed, would cover
a park measuring nearly twenty miles in circum-
ference. Then in addition to the dailies, there are
hundreds of weeklies, one of which has more than
one million readers.
Thackeray's picture of the press, written many
years ago, shows the position it had attained even
in his day. He says, There she is-the great
engine-she never sleeps. She has her ambassa-
dors in every quarter of the world-her couriers


upon every road. Her officers march along with
armies, and her envoys walk into statesmen's cabi-
nets. They are everywhere. Yonder journal has
an agent at this minute giving bribes at Madrid,
and another inspecting the price of potatoes at
Covent Garden. Look! here comes the Foreign
Express galloping. They will be able to give
news at Downing Street: funds will rise or fall,
fortunes be made or lost. Lord B. will get up,
and, holding the paper in his hands and seeing
the noble marquis in his place, will make a speech;
and Mr. Doolan will be called away from his supper
at the back kitchen, for he is foreign sub-editor,
and sees the mail in the newspaper sheets before
he goes to his own (sheet)."
Even a brief description of printing would not
be complete without a few words about the im-
provements made in setting type, and making it into
metal plates from which the sheets are printed. In
ordinary work the types or letters are contained in
cases or wooden trays, divided into little compart-
ments called "boxes." Each box contains one
kind of letter of the alphabet, a figure, a stop, or
other sign used in printing.
The letters are not arranged alphabetically, but
on a plan that places those most used nearest the


compositor's or typesetter's hand. The proportion
of the different letters, in what is called a fount of
type, shows how much oftener some letters are used
than others. Thus there are 13,000 of the letter e,
9,000 of t, 8,500 of a, and 8,000 each of i, n, o, and
s, to 400 of j and x, and only 200 of z.

* ..


The types are picked out of the boxes one at a
time, and placed in lines forming words, in a metal
instrument called a stick." When the stick is
full the types are lifted out and laid on a tray.
They are then made up in pages according to the


size of the book, and firmly fastened with small
wedges into an iron frame called a chase," and
are ready to send to the press for printing.
Books and papers, of which only a small number
is required, are usually printed from the type, but
where large numbers are wanted the type is made
into metal plates. Stereotype plates are made by
taking a mould of the type in paper mach6 and
then casting it in type metal. Electrotype plates
are made by taking a mould in beeswax, and
obtaining a cast of copper by means of electricity.
These plates, both the stereotype and the electro-
type, can be used again and again, and though
more costly at first are cheaper in the end.
Typesetting machines, that is, machines which
do not require the compositor to pick out each type
separately with his fingers and arrange it in the
stick, have been used for some time. The types
are so placed in the machines, that when the
operator presses the keys, which are something like
those of a piano, with his fingers, they fall into
their places. This is a great time saver, for it
enables a man to do six times the amount of work
that he can do by hand.
Recently a new composing machine has come
into use, which casts and sets the type by one


movement. No separate movable types are needed,
but instead moulds and molten metal are used,
and as the operator plays on the keys the machine


produces what are called linotypes "-that is,
lines of type in one solid piece, ready to be made
up into pages.
The Linotype composing machine is now used in


many of the larger newspaper offices, and there is
little doubt that since the introduction of steam
and steam-driven printing machinery, no improve-
ment with such far-reaching results has taken
place in connection with the art of printing as
this wonderful labour and time saving machine.


.',7 LD BOB, as his neighbours called him,
was employed as fireman to the engine,
i which pumped water out of a coalpit
at Wylam, a village about seven miles
ti-.,m Newcastle-on-Tyne. This employment,
though toilsome, required no great skill, and
Old Bob, or Robert Stephenson, received only the
wages of a common labourer.
He lived in a cottage by the side of a road, on
which lines were laid for the coal waggons to pass
to and fro. Here, in 1781, his second son George
was born, and in this mining district, the busy
scene of grimy labour, the lad spent the first years
of his life.
There were no school boards in those days, and
little George, like his brothers and sisters, was left
entirely to himself, in the way of book-learning.
He was not, however, without useful knowledge
of another kind, and being a smart little fellow


he turned it to account in various ways. He
had sharp eyes and ready hands, and he made the
best use of them.
The Stephenson family had to work hard to
obtain a decent livelihood, and every member was
called upon to bear a share of the burden as soon
as he or she was able. When George was eight
years of age he was employed to herd cows, for
which he received twopence a day. The little
fellow was bareheaded and barelegged; his clothes
scarcely sufficed to cover his active body. But he
was bright, lighthearted, and always went whistling
or singing merrily to his daily task.
When he was not attending to the cows he was
chasing butterflies, making watermills with reeds
and straws, and even moulding small steam engines
of clay. Brought up among coalpits, and pumps,
and wheels, and various machines, it was not
surprising that he showed a fondness for mechanics
at an early age. Though he was always ready fdr
a game with the boys of the village, he spent much
of his spare time in the engine-room where his
father worked. There he stood watching with
keen and curious eyes the engine perform its various
movements. To him it was an object of wonder
and almost a thing of life. He studied the various


parts, and then with clay and hemlock stalks he
built a model which astonished the villagers among
whom he lived.
When big enough to do more farm-work he
received fourpence a day, but he did not continue


long in this employment. As soon as he could he
obtained work at the pit, and when he was fifteen
he was made assistant fireman at a shilling a day.
Soon afterwards this was raised to twelve shillings


a week. Now," exclaimed the delighted youth,
" I am a made man for life "
At eighteen, George was still unable to read or
write, and feeling the need of some education he
arranged to attend school three evenings a week,
for which he was charged threepence. Though
he had to work long hours at the pit, he stuck to
his lessons, and in less than a year he was able to
read, write, and count, and his teacher boasted of
the progress he had made.
His next step was the post of brakeman at
another pit, where he received higher wages. He
also earned a little money by spending his spare
time in mending shoes. Among his customers
was Fanny Henderson, the maid at a farm near
the village, and having married her in 1802, they
set up housekeeping at Willington, near New-
George continued to mend shoes in the evening,
for he had still only a pound a week, when one day
his chimney got on fire. Assisted by the neighbours
he saved his dwelling from being burned down, but
the house was deluged with water, and his eight-day
clock was so damaged that it refused to go. George
had more than once taken his engine to pieces,
cleaned it, and put it together again, so he deter-


mined to try his hand on the clock. He took it to
pieces, cleaned every part of it thoroughly, and
then put it together again. To his great delight
it went as well as ever, and this coming to the
knowledge of his neighbours, George was employed
by them to repair their clocks, which proved a
further addition to his income.

..') _

""- -- ? ; : ': I


In 1803 his only son Robert was born, and, to his
great sorrow, his wife died in the following year.
He was, however, determined to give his boy an
education, and in one of his public speeches, given
many years afterwards, he said-
In the earlier period of my career, when Robert


was a little boy, I saw how deficient I was in
education, and I made up my mind that he should
not labour under the same defect, but that I would
put him to a good school and give him a liberal
training. I was, however, a poor man; and how
do you think I managed ? I betook myself to
mending my neighbours' clocks and watches at
nights, after my daily labour was done, and thus
I procured the means of educating my son."
In 1810 an opportunity came to George which
still further advanced him in his calling and also in
public estimation. The engine at a pit near would
not do its work. The water flooded the pit in spite
of all that the engineers could do, and at length,
in despair, Geordie," as they called him, was
allowed to try what he could do. The owners
of the pit knew that he was a clever fellow, but
they did not think that he could succeed where the
proper engineers had failed.
George took the engine to pieces and carefully
rebuilt it. Then he set it to work, and in a few
days the mine was free from water. The young
man received a present of ten pounds, and not
only became famous as an engine doctor," but
he was also placed on the footing of a regular


George continued his studies, assisted by his
friend John Wigham, and the long winter evenings
were spent, not only in acquiring knowledge to be
obtained from books, but also in getting an insight
into chemistry and other departments of practical
science. Stephenson also learned to draw, that
he might be able to make plans and sketches of
It will be remembered that tramway lines were
laid in the road in front of the cottage in which
George was born. Along these lines, waggons of
coal were drawn by horses from the pits to the
Tyne. These were the first railroads, but there
were no locomotives or travelling engines to run
along them. To Stephenson came the idea that
a steam engine could be made to travel, and
that it might be made to grip the line without
using cogs or teeth.
The coaching system had at that time attained
the highest degree of perfection. Nearly one
hundred coaches passed through St. Albans daily.
"Fast coaches," as they were called, made the
journey from London to Liverpool in about twenty
hours. The fare inside was four guineas for each
passenger, and besides this fees had to be given to
coachmen and guards.


Here is a copy of an advertisement issued nearly
two hundred years ago:-

Begins on Friday, the 12th of April, 1706.
All that are desirous to pass from London to York, or from
York to London, or any other Place on that Road; Let them
repair to the Black Swan in Holborn, in London, and to the
Black Swan in Coney Street, in York.
At both which places, they may be received in a Stage-Coach
every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, which performs the
whole Journey in Four Days (if God permits). And sets forth
at Five in the Morning.
And returns from York to Stamford by Huntingdon to London
in two days more. And the like Stages on their return.
Allowing each Passenger 14 lb. weight, and all above 3d. a
Performed by HENRY HARRISON.

This journey is now performed by train in three
and a half hours.
Rail or tram roads were first constructed to
enable horses to draw heavy loads more easily
and swiftly than they could on ordinary roads.
The Surrey Railway from Croydon to the Thames,
and the Stockton and Darlington Railway were
both meant to be used in this way. In fact


horses were so expensive that the trucks on the
Surrey Railway were drawn by donkeys, at the
rate of four miles an hour.
In 1802 William Murdoch and Captain Treve-
thick built a steam carriage which was exhibited
in London, in a field near the site of Euston
Station. Here was laid down a circular railway,
on which the locomotive ran at the rate of twelve
miles an hour.
Coleridge tells a story about this locomotive
when on its road to London. Trevethick and
Captain Vivian were riding on the carriage on
the turnpike road near Plymouth. The train had
already knocked down the rails of a gentleman's
garden when Vivian saw the toll-bar in front of
them closed. He called to Trevethick to slacken
speed, which he did just in time to save the gate.
The frightened toll-keeper instantly opened it.
What have us to pay ? asked Captain Vivian,
careful as to honesty if reckless as to grammar.
"Na-na-na-na! stammered the poor man,
trembling in every limb, with his teeth chattering
as if he had the ague.
What have us to pay ? I ask.
"Na-noth-nothing to pay. My de-dear Mr.
Maniac, do drive as fast as you can. Nothing to pay."


Other attempts were made to construct a loco-
motive, and though they were to some extent
successful, they could not be regarded as satis-
factory. The engines were badly made, their
rate of progress was slow, and they could not be
depended on to work when wanted. It was at this
time that Stephenson built a locomotive and ran it
along the tramway at Killingworth. It was, com-
pared with a modern steam engine, but a clumsy
apparatus, but it drew eight loaded waggons,
weighing thirty tons, up a steep road at the rate
of four miles an hour.
Stephenson, having tried his hand at the business,
could not leave the matter where it was, but con-
tinuing his experiments, he improved first one part
and then another, until his engine was by far the
best locomotive that had yet been built. Those
who saw it regarded it with astonishment, and
expressed their fear that sooner or later it would
blow up. Stephenson and his son Robert, now an
intelligent young man and an engineer like his
father, were satisfied that a great future lay
before "Puffing Billy," as they called their latest
attempt at engine-building.
George Stephenson gave utterance to this belief
in the following words addressed to his son:-


"I tell you that I think you will live to see the
day, though I may not live so long, when railways
will come to supersede almost all other methods of
conveyance in this country, when mail-coaches will


go by railway, and railways will become the great
highway for the king and all his subjects. The
time is coming when it will be cheaper for a
working man to travel on a railway than to walk
on foot. I know there are great and almost insur-


mountable difficulties that will have to be en-
countered; but what I have said will come to
pass as sure as I live. I only wish I may live
to see the day, though that I can scarcely hope
for, as I know how slow all human progress is,
and with what difficulty I have been able to get
the locomotive adopted, notwithstanding my more
than ten years' successful experiment at Killing-
In 1830 the first general railway ever built for
business purposes was constructed between Liver-
pool and Manchester, the great cotton market and
the manufacturing centre. The road, the river,
and the canal were all too slow, and trade was
hindered for want of a better and quicker means
of communication.
It is difficult at the present time to understand
the enormous opposition which the first railways
received. The bill for the construction of the
Liverpool and Manchester Railway was fought in
Parliament in the most determined manner, and
opposed at every stage. One member indignantly
denounced the project as a fraud and an imposition.
He said he would not consent to see widows'
premises invaded, and "how," he asked, "would
any one like to have a railroad under his parlour


window? What," he continued, "was to be done
with all those who had advanced money in making
and repairing turnpike roads ? What with those
who may still wish to travel in their own or hired


carriages, after the fashion of their forefathers ?
What was to become of coachmakers and harness-
makers, coach-masters and coachmen, inn-keepers,
horse-breeders, and horse-dealers ? Was the House


aware of the smoke and noise, the hiss and whirl,
which locomotive engines passing at the rate of ten
or twelve miles an hour would occasion ? Neither
the cattle ploughing in the fields or grazing in the
meadows could behold them without dismay. Iron
would be raised in price 100 per cent., or, more
probably, exhausted altogether. It would be the
greatest nuisance, the most complete disturbance
of quiet and comfort in all parts of the kingdom
that the ingenuity of man could invent! "
After three years' agitation, at a cost of nearly
one hundred thousand pounds, the bill was carried,
and George Stephenson was set to work to build
the line. It was a great undertaking, and it will
descend to succeeding ages as a monument to the
memory of this remarkable man. Not only had
numerous bridges to be built, excavations to be
made, and tunnels cut, but Chat Moss had to be
crossed. This was a great quagmire, over which
cattle could not walk without sinking in the boggy
soil. In vain Stephenson tried to find the bottom
and fill up the Moss with waggon loads of earth.
It seemed as if defeat could not be avoided, when
the engineer decided oh a bold plan. He would
float the railway on the Moss. He first levelled
the portion to be used to the surface of the water,


and covered it with wattled hurdles. On these he
spread turf, and then laid a bed of sand over the
turf to the depth of two feet. This was successful,
and the railway lines were carried over the dreaded
The next thing to be decided was the power to
be used in drawing the trains-horses or steam-
which ? Some of the directors were in favour of
horses, some proposed stationary engines to be
placed at certain distances apart to push and draw
the trains from point to point, only a few were in
favour of a locomotive. Stephenson pleaded with
them, and begged the directors to give it a trial,
and in the end they agreed to do so.
A prize of five hundred pounds was offered for
the best locomotive which fulfilled certain condi-
tions as to power and speed. Never did man work
harder than did Stephenson to satisfy these condi-
tions, and when the day of trial came his new
engine, the "Rocket," won the prize. It ran over
the line at the rate of thirty miles an hour, and the
directors decided that locomotives should be used
to draw the trains.
On the 15th of September, 1830, the new rail-
way was opened in the presence of thousands of
persons, who were eager to see the wonder of the


age. Eight locomotives, drawing as many trains,
formed a procession such as the world had never
before seen, and the journey from Liverpool to
Manchester was made at the rate of twenty-five
miles an hour. Stephenson's triumph was complete.
Landowners no longer opposed the railway; they
saw its advantages, and eagerly endeavoured to
share in its benefits.
It is now more than sixty years since this great
battle was fought and won, and to-day we have
more than twenty thousand miles of railways in
the British Isles. All the chief lines start from
London as a centre and branch off in every direc-
tion, north, south, east, and west. The different
lines are named after the direction they run from
London, or the part of the country through which
they pass. Thus we have the London and North
Western, the Midland, the Great Northern, the Great
Eastern, the London and South Western, and so on.
Great improvements have been made in the
locomotives, and they are specimens of the most
skilful and perfect workmanship produced by the
hand of man. Even George Stephenson, with his
unbounded faith in the powers of the locomotive,
never dreamt of such feats as are now daily per-
formed on our great railways.


Every day certain express trains in some parts
of their journey run more than sixty miles an hour,
and travel three or four hundred miles at the rate
of more than fifty miles an hour. The half-hour

- ~I' -. f


expresses between Liverpool and: Manchester do
the journey of thirty-four miles easily in forty-five
minutes. The distance between London and
Edinburgh, four hundred miles, is covered by


several trains and by different routes in from eight
to nine hours. Recently the distance from London
to Aberdeen, five hundred and forty miles, was run
in five hundred and thirty-eight minutes, or less than
a mile a minute. To save time there are water
troughs on certain parts of the line, and the engine
is supplied through a scoop while at full speed.
There are several trains which have become
famous for their speed. Two of these are known
as the "Flying Scotsman" and the "Flying
Dutchman." The one runs from London by the
Great Northern to Edinburgh, and the other runs
from London by the Great Western to Exeter.
These are said to be the fastest trains in the world,
though there is little to choose at the present time
between the expresses of any two companies travel-
ling to the same place.
Some idea may be formed of the marvellous
growth of railway traffic from the following facts.
In London and its suburbs there are over three
hundred railway stations, from which over two
thousand trains depart every twenty-four hours.
And of these over one thousand are expresses.
Nothing can be more interesting than a visit to
the works of one of our great railways, where we
may see for ourselves how a locomotive is built.


Even if we did not understand the various pro-
cesses going on around us, we should be impressed
with the magnitude of the work, and the endless
variety and size and power of the tools and
machines used in the construction of a railway
engine. It is scarcely credible, but it is neverthe-
less true, that one of the magnificent locomotives,

t' ~ I/ N


which we see drawing our fastest express trains,
can be built in twenty-five hours. The pictures
given show the engine at the various stages to its
completion. It is scarcely necessary to say that
the work must be done well, and every part so
finished and fitted together that the whole works
with the greatest accuracy. It was in thorough


and careful workmanship that George Stephenson

U-" *'- ,

in the first instance excelled his rivals, and by which

( pu IM

E '-- l I : 1

he made for himself a name that he never lost.


Probably the part of the train that most interests
the ordinary traveller is the carriage, in which he
may have to spend several hours, while making a
journey from one town to another. In the early
days of railways the comfort of the passengers
seems to have been the last thing thought of or

i 7

.3 -

never considered at all. Carriages, or rather
trucks, without roofs or windows, and some with-
out seats, were provided for those who were rash
enough to make a journey in them. A wag of the
time humorously called the seatless carriages
" standipedes."


Then seats, roofs, and windows were added to
third-class carriages, but for a long time these
vehicles were far from comfortable, and scarcely
endurable for a long journey.
Great improvements have been made in recent
years, and now the different railway companies vie
with each other in their efforts to make travelling
on their lines as comfortable as possible. We have
only to compare an old third-class carriage with


one of the newest pattern to see the great difference.
The carriage itself is larger and roomier, the seats
and backs are padded, and there is an arrangement
of springs which lessens the jolting and vibration
caused by the rapid motion of the train.
On express trains there are also dining cars,
drawing-room cars, and sleeping cars for day and
night travelling. The most luxurious of all is the
Pullman car, which is named after its inventor.


This car is described as a "palace on wheels," and
certainly its thick carpets, soft cushions, and beau-
tiful furnishings leave nothing to be desired. The
free use of indiarubber, and the double shaving-
stuffed floors, make the motion easy, prevent
rattling, and deaden the sound of the wheels.
The train by which the Queen travels to Bal-
moral is said to be the safest train in the world.
Mr. Acworth, describing the railway accommoda-
tion at the disposal of the Queen and other royal
personages, in The Railways of England," says,
"' The Queen's train,' it may be remarked, is a
misnomer. There is no such train. Two saloons
there are, close-coupled, and connected by a gang-
way, that are reserved for Her Majesty's exclusive
and personal use, which never leave Wolverton
except to carry her to or from Balmoral; but that
is all. The rest of the royal train is made up with
such saloons or other vehicles of the company's
ordinary rolling stock as may on any particular
occasion be required. Nor are the royal saloons
themselves in any way very remarkable. One
thing to be noticed is that they are entered by a
folding carriage step, a survival, doubtless, from
the days when platforms were not yet of a uniform
and sufficient height. The floors are deeply


carpeted, and the sides and

roof thickly padded.
with quilted silk,
to deaden the noise
and vibration of
the train,. from
which, as is well-
known, Her Ma-
jesty suffers. To
reduce this to a
minimum, she, by
Sher own desire,
i travels to and-
Sfromi Scotland at
Sa speed markedly
| below that which
& the meanest of her
r subjects can corn-
Smand any evening
in the week for
the modest pay-
ment, of a good
deal' less than- one
penny per mile.
One of the saloons
is fitted as a bed-
room, the other as


a sitting-room, and between the two is a lavatory,
whose basins and fittings in metal, chased and
gilt, deserve to be mentioned as- real works of art.
These saloons are, it should be added, now more
than twenty years old.
A pilot engine runs a quarter of an hour in front
of the train to make sure of a clear line. For half
an hour before the train passes a signal box no
engine or vehicle is allowed on the section of. line
under the signalman's control. For half an hour
S no train can cross that section of line, nor can
any shunting take place on the lines adjoining it.
S..And after the -train is passed nothingis allowed
to follow for a quarter of an hour. Further, olf
.the lines alongside, no engines or.trains except
passenger trains are allowed to travel between any
two signal-boxes, from the time the pilot is due
until the train is passed. Every. station. and
crossing is guarded to keep trespassers. off the line.
SAll the facing points are bolted, so that the train
Cannot run on the wrong -line; all level-crossing
gates, when there are no gatekeepers, are locked
an hour before the train is.due; all along the line
platelayers are -on the watch to keep the road clear,
.and on the train itself there are fitters, lampmen,
and greasers alert for.any -mishap."


An American visitor to England, on returning
home, gave high praise to our railroads. He said,
" The bridges, stations, and all parts of the road
are seemingly built for eternity." This was a
great compliment to pay us, and we believe that it
is deserved. In no part of the world is railway
construction done as perfectly as in this country.
Our bridges and tunnels are certainly triumphs of
In various parts of the country we have about
one hundred miles of tunnels, through mountains
and hills and under rivers and towns. The longest
tunnel in Great Britain is that under the river
Severn. It is four and a half miles in length.
There are also two tunnels under the Thames and
one under the Mersey. The Stand Edge tunnel,
near Huddersfield, is a little over three miles in
length, and there are many others from one to two
miles. Nor must we forget the Underground Rail-
way, by means of which many parts of London
may be reached by train without passing through
the crowded streets of the city. The longest
tunnels in the world pass under the Alps. The
Mont Cenis tunnel is over seven miles in length,
and the St. Gothard is nearly ten miles.
Bridges and viaducts over rivers and valleys are


numerous, and some of them are of considerable
size. The most famous in Great Britain are the
Tay Bridge, the longest, over two miles in length;
the Forth Bridge, about a mile and a half in
length; and the Britannia Tubular Bridge, over
Menai Strait, about a quarter of a mile in length.
These bridges are built on different plans to suit
the requirements of their separate positions. The
Newcastle High Level Bridge, which crosses the
Tyne, has been called the king of railway struc-
tures," on account of the unusual difficulties which
had to be faced.
There are also mountain railways both at home
and abroad, by which travellers are able to ascend
to great heights without the labour of climbing.
One of these railways runs up Snowdon, another
ascends Mount Vesuvius, and there are several
among the Alps. Some of these railways are
worked by stationary engines, others have loco-
motives with a central toothed wheel which runs
on racked rails-that is, rails with teeth.
The highest points reached by railways are in
America. One line ascends Pike's Peak in
Colorado, North America, to a height of 14,000
feet. The highest point reached by the locomotive
is on the wonderful railway in Peru, in South


America, where heavy trains are drawn to a height
of 15,700 feet. Seen from a distance," writes a
traveller, the train of cars appears like a great
serpent gliding along the face of the rocks. The
curves are so sharp that very frequently the train
is travelling on three or four of them at once."
When building the line the labourers had to
face immense difficulties. In many places the
rocks were so steep as to render it necessary to
lower the workmen by ropes from benches or
shelves above in order that they might cut out
standing places from which to commence work.
In one place the engineers were conveyed across a
valley on wire ropes suspended some hundred feet
in the air, between two cliffs. In fifteen miles
there are twenty-two tunnels, and as the tunnel-
making went on every step was impeded by snow
water which found its way through the rocks from
above and often burst through seams and drove
the men from their work. The deadly nature of
the occupation may be understood from the fact
that over ten thousand men died during the
building of this line.
After all, though we do not possess the highest
railway in the world, we have at any rate the
steepest. This cliff railway ascends one thousand


feet, and the gradient, or rise, is 1 in 13 through-
out. The rails are bolted into the solid rock. It
is between two villages of North Devon on the
Bristol Channel-Lynmouth, close to the sea, and
Lynton on the cliff above.


The most curious railway in the world is pro-
bably one in California, which is laid on tree tops.
Where the road crosses a deep ravine the trees are
sawn off on a level with the surrounding hills, and
the timbers and ties laid on the stumps. In the


centre of the ravine two huge redwood trees, side
by side, form a substantial support. These giants
have been lopped off seventy-five feet above the
bed of the creek. This natural bridge is con-
sidered one of the wonders of the Golden State,
and for safety and security leaves nothing to be
In New York City there are overhead railways
which run along the main streets supported on
pillars, on a level with the first story windows of
the houses.


S ITH three great snorts of strength,
Stretching my mighty length,
Like some long dragon stirring in his
Out from the glare of gas
Into the night I pass
And plunge alone into the silence deep.

Little I know or care
What be the load I bear,
Why thus compell'd, I seek not to divine;
At man's command I stir,
I, his stern messenger !-
Does he his duty well as I do mine ?

Straight on my silent road,
Flank'd by no man's abode,
No foe I parley with, no friend I greet;
On like a bolt I fly
Under the starry sky,
Scorning the current of the sluggish street.


Onward from South to North,
Onward from Thames to Forth,
On-like a comet-on, unceasingly
Faster and faster yet
On-where far boughs of jet
Stretch their wild woof against the pearly sky.

Faster and faster still-
Dive I through rock and hill,
Starting the echoes with my shrill alarms;
Swiftly I curve and bend;
While, like an eager friend,
The distance runs to clasp me in its arms.

Ne'er from my path' I swerve
Rattling around a curve
Not vainly trusting to my trusty bars
On through the hollow night,
While, or to left or right,
A city glistens like a clump of stars.

On through the night I steer;
Never a sound I hear
Save the strong beating of my steady stroke-
Save when the circling owl,
Hoots, or the screaming fowl,
Rise from the marshes like a sudden smoke.


Now o'er a gulf I go:
Dark is the depth below,
Smites the slant beam the shoulder of the height-
Now through a lane of trees-
Past sleeping villages,
Their white walls whiter in the silver light.

Be the night foul or fair,
Little I reck or care,
Bandy with storms, and with tempests jest;
Little I care or know,
What winds may rage or blow,
But charge the whirlwind with a dauntless breast.

Now-through the level plain,
While, like a mighty mane,
Stretches my endless breath in cloudy miles;
Now-o'er a dull lagoon,
While the broad beamed moon,
Lights up its sadness into sickly smiles.

O, 'tis a race sublime !
I, neck and neck with Time-
I, with my thews of iron and heart of fire-
Run without pause for breath,
While all the earth beneath
Shakes with the shocks of my tremendous ire !


On-till the race be won,
On-till the coming sun
Blinds moon and stars with his excessive light,
On-till the earth be green,
And the first lark be seen,
Shaking away with songs the dews of night.

Sudden my speed I slack-
Sudden all force I lack-
Without a struggle yield I up my breath;
Numb'd are my thews of steel,
Wearily rolls each wheel,
My heart cools slowly to the sleep of death.

Why for so brief a length
Dower'd with such mighty strength ?
Man is my god-I seek not to divine;
At his command I stir,
I, his stern messenger !-
Does he his duty well as I do mine ?
Cosmo Monkhouse.
(By permission of the Author.)


HE Times has received in its day many
S letters on the subject of railways, but I
'i. -' can venture to assert that it has never
before this received one from a corre-
:pondent who dates his letter "Edinburgh,
5.52 p.m.," and can produce witnesses to
prove that he was seen 400 miles off no longer ago
than ten o'clock that morning.
To say that the run from London has been done
with ease in the advertised time would be to
understate the matter. In fact, it has been done
in a quarter of an hour less. We were seven
minutes too soon at Carlisle, and spent the time
in strolling about the platform, but this did not
prevent us from being again eight minutes too
soon at Edinburgh.
I need not say that we left Euston punctually-
trains always do that at Euston. The engine was
surrounded by an admiring crowd, who almost


raised a cheer as we steamed out, not that at start-
ing there was much worth cheering. Our engine,
a small single-wheeled one, could not get away
over fast up the steep incline over the greasy rails
to Camden, and for the first five miles and a half
we took 10, minutes. This would hardly do for a
train that had got to run at the rate of 53 miles
an hour to Crewe.
We reached Tring (31n miles) in 40 minutes;
better, no doubt, but with only 54 minutes
available in which to cover 51 miles to Rugby.
But Tring is at the top of the climb up the
Chilterns, and from Tring we began to hurry a
little ; 15 minutes took us over the next 13 miles
to Bletchley, and by the time we were 20 miles
from Rugby we had got 25 minutes in hand in
which to cover the distance.
As we approached Rugby station, two minutes
in front of time, those who were in the secret were
in a pleasing state of excitement, for was it not
written in the working circular issued to the staff,
"Stop for loco. purposes only"? But it was under-
stood that this stop would not be made without
necessity, and we were anxious to know if we
really were in for the longest run ever made, or
whether we were to halt after a beggarly 80 odd


miles, when down went the brakes, and down went
our hearts with them, but it was a false alarm.
We were only slackening down through the
platform points, and we sailed through the station
at some 15 or 20 miles an hour, while the drivers
of all the Rugby engines looked on approvingly.
As the hands pointed to noon we whizzed beneath
the clock on Tamworth platform, 110 miles from
A few minutes later, at Colwich, we reckoned
that we had covered just 95 miles in the last 100
minutes. Passing Stafford we could pity the fate
of the luckless inhabitants of Birmingham, who,
through this last acceleration, had lost their con-
nection with the 10 o'clock, and were condemned
to travel by a slower train that took seven hours
over a mere 300 miles. They could console them-
selves by thinking that the Manchester passengers
are in the same boat, as they take 51 hours, and
the distance is only 220 miles.
A few minutes more and our feat had been
safely accomplished, as we ran into Crewe two
minutes before one, and the beautiful little
" Marmion uncoupled and steamed off, to be
replaced by a larger and heavier engine, better
fitted for the heavier gradients between Wigan


and Carlisle. On the platform was the locomotive
superintendent of the company, looking not a little
satisfied at the performance, but in reply to con-
gratulations he only expressed his readiness to
run to Manchester without a stop next week if
From Crewe to Preston is 51 miles, and we had
got 60 minutes available in which to cover it, but
we had got a new driver, and he evidently thought
he had a right to take part in the race. As soon
as we had got into our stride he gave us a mile in
54 seconds. Not satisfied with this, a minute or
two later he brought the time down to 483 seconds.
This, which equals 74 miles an hour, is the fastest
I have ever timed a train, but the carriage was as
steady as a rock all the time. Indeed, this was the
case every mile of the road on the North-Western.
On the Caledonian the motion was not quite so
smooth, and we had one or two slight jerks, but I
have often been far worse shaken at 20 miles an
hour on London suburban railways. We left
Preston, after an interval of 24 minutes, at 2.18.
Remembering Shap, with its four miles of 1 in 75,
more than one experienced passenger refused to
believe that we should cover the 90 miles to
Carlisle in 105 minutes.


In fact we were there seven minutes before time,
having done the 90 miles in 98 minutes, and yet
we never seemed to go unduly fast. It must be
confessed that there were not many milestones the
further side of Shap summit that managed to keep
60 seconds apart from their neighbours. We
travelled 54, 52, 503, &c., for mile after mile
with monotonous regularity.

_- "

L. -^ -
-, I.. -.
S J- I ;E ,, -,- -;, ,I.

After a leisurely 12 minutes' conversation at
Carlisle we steamed out to the appointed moment
in charge of one of the last new Caledonian
engines. This engine, with a single 7-feet driving
wheel, was exhibited last year in the Edinburgh
It would be tedious to describe the run more in
detail. Suffice it to say that we covered 100-


miles in 104 minutes, and that ten of these
miles were up a gradient of 1 in 80. A
gradient of 1 in 80, it is calculated, means
that an engine has to do almost four times as
much work as on the level. However, up the
hill we went merrily, 40 miles an hour, till a signal
halfway up checked us and brought the speed
down to 30; but in the course of the next mile
or so it was back at 40, and the whole ten miles,
check and all, were covered in 14 minutes, a per-
formance that I shall believe to be unequalled till
I hear of a better one. Our train, I should say,
weighed about 80 tons.
As we ran round the Strawfrank curve outside
Carstairs we noticed a train, through from London
by the colour of its carriages, just coming out of
Carstairs station. It was the 7.15 a.m. from
London, under contract for the conveyance of Her
Majesty's mails, which, though it left London 2-
hours before us, was only due in Edinburgh at
5.50, which, in point of fact, followed us in at a
respectable distance.
School Newspa.per.


;' iT was by no means a promising morning
,i i as I entered Euston station. The rain
''.' had ceased, to be sure, but the sky
r--, was overcast, and the wind cold. On
S' reaching the main departure platform I
found it crowded. The ten o'clock Scotch
express was made up, and most of the seats already
taken, while I, attired in the oldest clothes I pos-
sessed, with peak cap on head and comforter round
my throat, had to elbow my way through the
crowd. The ordeal was at length over, and con-
scious that my strange appearance was claiming
the attention of more than one of the station
officials, I awaited the arrival of the engine.
At five minutes to ten the Mammoth slowly
backs into the station, her skin brilliant with
cleaning, her tender piled high with Welsh coal,
her steam up ready to fly away north. This mag-
nificent engine, one of the compound triple cylinder


locomotives on Mr. Webb's system, was built this
year, and embodies everything that can tend to
the perfection of speed and safety combined. I am
now in a position to state this, having had an
ample opportunity of noting its wonderful powers.
I present my pass to the driver. He examined
it and me, and bade me step up. I look round
and note a multiplicity of handles. We are sur-
rounded by them, of all sorts, shapes, and sizes-
wheels and rods, iron and brass, long and short.
The footplate is roomy enough, some eight feet by
four clear space, with a ledge on either side on
which one can sit down. The driver has his hand
on the regulator. The signal is given by the
guard. The lever is pushed over, and we are off.
Along the cutting, under the girders, up the
"bank," as I afterwards learn a gradient is called,
through Chalk Farm station, we seem to glide.
The terrible jarring I had been led to expect had
not begun as yet. Perhaps it will start presently.
The motion is no worse than on an omnibus going
very fast. The noise is considerable, but I manage
to glean the sense of the few words the driver
occasionally shouts out. As we go on, the regu-
lator is hauled further over until it stands half-way
across, our speed increasing until we seem to be


skimming over the ground. This does not go on
long. As we approach Willesden the regulator is

//i /i

( jf11 /

/ I
i/il r

/ ~ ~j./ / /



pushed back again, and the brake put slightly on
by pulling another lever.
We have come the five-and-a-half miles in nine



minutes, but that is slow travelling for the Mam-
moth. We do not tarry long, but the few minutes'
quiet serve for me to learn the names of some of
the more important handles which have been
puzzling me. The reversing gear, injectors,
dampers, and feeds are pointed out to me by the
driver. Our little chat serves as a capital intro-
duction, and by the time our three minutes are up
we are excellent friends. We get the signal, our
whistle sounds, and we are off to Rugby.
We are out of London. The train is now well on
its way, and the engine seems to rise to the occa-
sion, occasionally encouraged by the attention of
Hadfield, the driver. By the time we are through
Harrow the regulator is nearly right over, and we
are going fifty-five miles an hour. I have plenty
to do to watch my companions. Both the driver
and his mate are completely taken up with their
duties. The driver, steady and herculean in build,
stands on the left of the footplate. His gaze is
fixed on the circular window through which he
notes the signals ahead. His hands are on the
reversing gear wheel. Going through stations, his
hand generally finds its way to the regulator,
ready to shut off steam in case there is anything


The fireman is meanwhile equally busy in
another way. Every few minutes he touches the

,,: ;- ... -- .-- .-. .-

6'e- f .r. .- 14_



driver, who, knowing the signal, opens the fire-box
lever, exposing the glowing flames within, and half
roasting our legs while the stoker shovels up some


coal, which he shoots in with the aim and regu-
larity of a finished marksman. Much coal is not
put on at a time ; little and often is the rule, and
four or five shovelfuls are shot in every five
minutes, each shot being directed to a different
part of the fire-box, so as to keep the heat level,
and each lot of coal finding its billet with an
exactitude quite wonderful considering the motion.
Between the firings the steam is attended by
the ever-active fireman. The injectors are looked
to, the dampers adjusted, and the water feeds
turned, as frequent examinations of the steam-
gauge show to be needed. Besides these duties,
the fireman has to break up coal ready for the next
firing, to water it so as to retard too speedy com-
bustion, and to keep the footplate cool by water-
ing from the stand-pipe, by means of a flexible
hose. These numerous jobs fill up the time till
more coal is wanted, when the whole round is
again gone through.
We are now going fifty miles, and the motion is
certainly enlivening. Our speed causes a strong
wind, which, added to that blowing against us,
makes it a matter of extreme difficulty to hold my
hand out over the side. We are rounding the
curve leading to Watford, and very pretty the train


looks as I lean over the side in a gale of wind to
admire the spick and span appearance of our fifteen
Just before running through Watford the driver
leaves his corner for the first time. We are near-
ing a watering-place. The water is in a con-
tinuous tank or reservoir, some half-mile long.
The tank lies in the centre of the way between the
rails, and is reached by a hollow scoop which is
pushed down into the water from the tender. The
fireman draws a bar out to release the treadle, the
driver stands on it, and we are in the midst of a
storm of rain, the water being dashed up some feet
over the tender so as to wet us thoroughly in its
descent. The whole process lasts but a few
moments. The driver gets back to his place, the
whistle sounds, and we are in Watford tunnel.
The effect of the tunnel on the rider on the foot-
plate is curious and rather exciting. The noise is
deafening, and in intensity is fully equalled by the
darkness. All is pitch. I keep my eyes on the
window, steadying myself by the rail, as we are
going sharp and occasionally sway a little, and
presently discern a ray of light, which gradually
increases as we near the end, and finally emerge
into daylight. Thus, without hitch or hindrance,


we race along until Tring is passed. From
London to Tring is all up bank, but thence to
Bletchley is down-hill.
The regulator is hard over now, and we rush
along full sixty miles in a style as exciting as it
is glorious. The sky, which has been overcast,
suddenly clears, the sun comes out, illuminating
the fields, where the reapers are beginning to
gather in the corn. The air is fresh and delicious.
Thus it is that we tear along-a mile a minute.
The endless round of the stoker's duties is being
gone through as steadily as ever. He coals,
steams, waters, and keeps an eye on the train
behind. The driver remains at his post like a
statue. His eyes never leave the window, his
hands are always either on the regulator or re-
versing gear. The signals are all right for us, and
so we spin away towards Rugby.
There were several other things which took me
by surprise on the Mammoth. The furious jolting
I had expected to experience was entirely absent.
Going round the sharp corners we swayed a good
deal, while the footplate was rarely quite steady;
but the amount of motion was never excessive, and
hardly more than I have experienced on far slower
conveyances. The motion of a camel, the vibra-

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