ON COACHMEN. 247 



loins, with the ends of them hanging upon the middle 

 terret of his pad, and the whip also thrown across the 

 backs of the wheelers. The coachman makes his ap- 

 pearance. If he be a coachman, a judge will immediately 

 perceive it ; for as a certain philosopher observes, ' every 

 situation in life serves for formation of character,' and 

 none more so than a coachman's. I was going to say — 

 only let a judge see him come out of his office (pulling 

 on his glove) ; but this I will say — let him see him walk 

 round his horses, alter a coupling rein, take up his whip 

 and reins, and mount his box, and he will at once pro- 

 nounce him a neat, or an awkward one. Perhaps there 

 is nothing in which knowledge of an art without execu- 

 tion goes for less than in that of driving four-in-hand ; 

 for, although a coachman may have science in his calling, 

 yet it is very possible that, from a natural awkwardness 

 of action (if I may be allowed to apply this word to his 

 case), he may be totally unable to put it into effect with 

 anything like a graceful, or even neat and appropriate, 

 movement of his arms and hands : and in nothing, short 

 of the higher accomplishments of our nature, is a certain 

 propriety and neatness more required than in handling 

 the reins and whip from a coach box. Indeed, the 

 motions of the latter must be observed with something 

 like a mathematical precision ; and the quickness and 

 lightness of finger required to suit some horses' mouths, 

 is far greater than those unacquainted with driving 

 would suppose. This I must say — I have never seen 

 the two qualities combined : I have never seen an 



