Thus it came to pass that in the period 1825 to 1835, when the main roads of Great Britain were at their best, when the then mode of travelling, though on a limited scale, had, as regards speed, punctuality, and organisation, reached the highest possible pitch of perfection, a little cloud like a man’s hand, presaging the new order of locomotion, arose at the opening of the Stockton and Darlington Railway, and overshadowed the old method. So effective was the competition of the “iron horse,” that in lieu of the fifty-four splendidly equipped vehicles which in 1835 carried His Majesty’s mails throughout England, not a single coach left the General Post Office, St. Martin’s-le-Grand, in the year 1844; while the kings highways had become almost deserted. Though this was barely sixty years ago, railways have evolved themselves out of their embryonic state into a condition approaching the fateful one of perfect development. In early days, first-class passengers were boxed up in replicas of old stage-coaches, the second-class in open carriages exposed to the weather, and the third-class huddled together in seatless cattle-trucks. Contrast this with our luxurious Pullmans, and our corridor and vestibule trains for all classes, warmed throughout, lighted by electricity, and provided with lavatories, dining-saloons, buffets, and sleeping-cars. “With what further improvements can we allure the public?” ask anxious directors. One answer only is possible. “By bringing the mode of locomotion up to date.” This means, in the case of old-established railway companies, a complete and costly transformation, or an independent mono-rail track for long distances; under any circumstances entailing much hardship upon the shareholders. For at the moment when railway-engineers--improving so vastly upon George Stephenson’s venerable engine,[1] built in 1822, and still at work for the Hutton Colliery, its weight only fifteen tons, its speed ten miles an hour--have constructed such magnificent locomotives as the “Greater Britain” for the London and North [Illustration: FIG. 1. QUEEN VICTORIA’S TRAIN ON THE GREAT WESTERN RAILWAY] Western Railway, or the ten-wheeled giant[2] for the Great Northern Railway, fifty-seven feet over all, weighing 100 tons, and capable of reeling off its 65 miles an hour with ease, electricity steps into the field, displaces the stately engine--resplendent in red, blue, green, or chocolate paint, glossy as the coat of some highly trained racehorse, and gleaming with polished brass and steel, finished in all its parts with exquisite accuracy, the very embodiment of energy under perfect control--and from some unpretentious-looking building afar off, drives our trains with unseen but resistless force, at the rate, if desired, of a hundred miles an hour!