The actual casualties of stage-coaches, however, we may observe, bear no proportion to the loss of lives from consumption and other diseases occasioned by cold and wet, from exposure on the top of coaches.[4] [4] It appears from the newspapers that on the night of the 25th of February, 1812, three outside passengers were found dead on the roof of the Bath coach, from the inclemency of the weather. Let us consider also how far humanity is outraged by the present system of quick travelling. The short average life of stage-coach horses (three years only!) shows how dreadfully over-wrought and _out-wrought_ they are by the great speed now in practice. Driven for eight or ten miles, with an oppressive weight, they tremble in every nerve. With nostrils distended, and sides moving in breathless agony, they can scarce, when unyoked, crawl to the stable. 'Tis true they are well fed; the interest of their owners secures that. They are over-well fed, in order that a supernatural energy may be exerted. The morrow comes when their galled withers are again to be wrung by the ill-cushioned collars, and the lumbering of the wheels. But we do not witness all the misery of the noble and the generous steed. When the shades of night impend, the reproaches of the feeling, or the expostulations of the timid traveller no longer protect him from the lash; and the dread of Mr. Martin's act ceases to effect for a time its beneficent purpose; when the stiffened joints--the cracked hoofs--the greasy legs--and stumbling gait of the worn-out animal are all put into agonized motion by belabouring _him upon the raw_! The expression is Hibernian, but the brutality is our own. A few ill-gained pounds reconcile the enormity to the owner--and the cheapness and expedition of the conveyance give it public sanction: but humanity is outraged by the same: human sympathies are seared; and the noble precept, that "the merciful man is merciful to his beast," is trampled under foot. Thus then, by substituting elementary for physical power, we have comfort for comparative inconvenience--the inside of an elegant apartment, where books, amusement, or general conversation may occupy agreeably the time--for the outside of a hard, unsafe stage conveyance, and exposure to all changes or varieties of atmosphere. Nay, we see no reason to prevent such improvement in steam-carriages as shall fit them up like steam-boats, the campaigning carriage of Napoleon, or the travelling long coach of the present Duke of Orleans, with beds, and a furnished table. We have besides safety for danger--accelerated speed without inhumanity--gain of time--of accommodation--of money--and over and above all, as a non-consumer of food, we have by the substitution what will remove the host of Malthusian ills to a period of almost indefinite duration. * * * * * OLD POETS. * * * * * EYES AND TEARS.