Passages from the Life of a Philosopher

spring to measure the force exerted by the engine. It may, perhaps, be objected that this would require a certain amount of movement between the engine and its train. A very small quantity would be sufficient, say half an inch, or less. The forces in action are so very large, that even a still smaller amount of motion than this might be sufficiently magnified. Its indications should be marked by {333} self-acting machinery governing points impinging upon the paper on which the velocity is marked. Whenever any unusual resistance has opposed the progress of the train, it will thus be marked upon the paper. It will indicate in some measure the state of the road, and it will assuredly furnish valuable information in case an accident happens, and the train or the engine gets off the rails. 〈CURVE OF PROGRESS REGISTERED.〉 The third recommendation I have to make is— That the curve described by the centre of the engine itself upon the plane of the railway should be laid down upon the paper. Finding this a very important element, I caused a plate of hardened steel to be pressed by a strong spring against the inner edge of the rail. It was supported by a hinge upon a strong piece of timber descending from the platform supporting the carriage itself. The motion of this piece of steel, arising from the varying position of the wheels themselves upon the rail, was conveyed to a pen which transferred to the paper the curve traversed by the centre of the carriage referred to the plane of the rail itself. The contrivance and management of this portion of my apparatus was certainly the most difficult part of my task, and probably the most dangerous. I had several friendly cautions, but I knew the danger, and having examined its various causes, adopted means of counteracting its effect. After a few trials we found out how to manage it, and although it often broke four or five times in the course of the day’s work, the fracture inevitably occurred at the place intended for it, and my first notice of the fact often arose from the blow the fragment made when suddenly drawn by a strong rope up to the under side of the floor of our experimental carriage. I have a very strong opinion that the adoption of such {334} mechanical registrations would add greatly to the security of railway travelling, because they would become the unerring record of facts, the incorruptible witnesses of the immediate antecedents of any catastrophe. I have, however, little expectation of their adoption, unless Directors can be convinced that the knowledge derived from them would, by pointing out incipient defects, and by acting as a check upon the vigilance of all their officers, considerably diminish the repairs and working expenses both of the engine and of the rail. Nor should I be much surprised even if they were pronounced impracticable, although they existed very nearly a quarter of a century ago. The question of the gauges has long been settled. A small portion of broad gauge exists, but it is probable that it will ultimately be changed. The vast expense of converting the engines and the rolling stock for use on the narrower gauge presents the greatest obstacle. 〈GEORGE STEPHENSON’S REAL OPINION ON THE QUESTION OF THE GAUGES.〉 It may, however, be interesting to learn the opinion of the father of railways at an early period of their progress. I have already mentioned the circumstances under which my acquaintance with George Stephenson began. They were favourable to that mutual confidence which immediately arose. I was naturally anxious to ascertain the effect of the existing experience upon his own mind, but I waited patiently until a favourable opportunity presented itself. At a large public dinner, during the meeting of the British Association at Newcastle, I sat next to George Stephenson. It occurred to me that the desired opportunity had now arrived. I said little about railways until after the first glass of champagne. I mentioned several that I had travelled upon, and the conclusions I had drawn relative to the mechanical department. I then referred to the economy of {335} management, and pointed out one railway in which the accounts were so well arranged, that I had been able to arrive at a testing point of an opinion I had formed from my own ob­ser­va­tions. One great evil of the narrow gauge was, that when some trifling derangement in the engine occurred, which might be repaired at the expense of two or three shillings, it frequently became necessary to remove uninjured portions of the machine, in order to get at the fault; that the re-making the joints and replacing these parts thus temporarily removed, frequently led to an expense of several pounds. The second glass of champagne now interrupted a conversation which was, I hope, equally agreeable to both, and was certainly very instructive for me. I felt that the fairest opportunity I could desire of ascertaining my friend’s real opinion of the gauge had now arrived. Availing myself of the momentary pause after George Stephenson’s glass was empty, I said— “Now, Mr. Stephenson, will you allow me to ask you to suppose for an instant that no railways whatever existed, and yet that you were in full possession of all that large amount of knowledge which you have derived from your own experience. Under such circumstances, if you were consulted respecting the gauge of a system of railways about to be inaugurated, would you advise the gauge of 4 feet 8½ inches?” “Not exactly that gauge,” replied the creator of railroads; “I would take a few inches more, but a very few.” I was quite satisfied with this admission, though I confess it reminded me of the frail fair one who, when reproached by her immaculate friend with having had a child—an ecclesiastical licence not being first obtained—urged, as an extenuating circumstance, that it was a very small one. {336} 〈RAILWAYS OF THE FUTURE.〉 In this age of invention, it is difficult to predict the railroads of the future. Already it has been suggested to give up wheels and put carriages upon sledges. This would lower the centre of gravity considerably, and save the expense of wheels. On the other hand, every carriage must have an apparatus to clean and grease the rails, and the wear and tear of these latter might overbalance the economy arising from abolishing wheels. Again, short and much-frequented railways might be formed of a broad, continuous strap, always rolling on. At each station means must exist for taking up and putting down the passengers without stopping the rolling strap. The exhaustion of air in a continuous tunnel was proposed many years ago for the purpose of sucking the trains along. This has recently been applied with success to the transmission of parcels and letters. Possibly in the next International Exhibition a light railway might be employed within the building.49 1st. A quick train to enable visitors to get rapidly from end to end, avoiding the crowd and saving time, say at the expense of a penny. 2nd. A very slow train passing along the most attractive line, and oc­ca­sion­al­ly stopping, to enable persons not capable of bearing the fatigue of pushing on foot through crowds. If such railways were considered in the original design of the building, they might be made to interfere but little with the general public, and would bring in a considerable revenue to the concern. 49 A gallery, elevated about seven feet, in the centre of each division of the new National Gallery, might be used either for a light railway, or for additional means of seeing the pictures on the walls.