346 ANNALS OF THE ROAD. 



poet for practical instructions in the art of driving. His 

 seat on the coach-box is all wrong. The 



— illi instant verbere torto, 

 Et pruiii dant lor a, 



may be translated ' stooping to the reins when they 

 whipped their horses ; ' which is quite at variance with 

 our practice. For the benefit of some of my brother 

 whips, I will give them Mr. Pitt's English of this fine 

 passage : — 



Dost thou not see the car's contending train 

 Shoot from the goal, and pour along the plain ? 

 By varying fits each trembling charioteer, 

 Now flushed with hope, now pale with panting fear, 

 Plies the loud lash, hangs headlong o'er the reins, 

 Swift bounds the fervid axle o'er the plains : 

 Now deep in dust obscur'd the chariot flies, 

 Now mounts in air, and gains upon the skies. 

 The strife runs high, too fierce for dull delay, 

 The dusty volumes darken all the way. 



Independently of appearances, a firm seat on a box is 

 very necessary for safety to a coachman and his pas- 

 sengers, or a little thing will displace him. I once was 

 by the side of a coachman on the box of a mail, when he 

 was chucked off merely by one of his hind wheels strik- 

 ing lightly against the post of a gateway, and a bad 

 accident was like to have been the consequence. 



NIGHT WORK. 



For an amateur, I have had my share of this part of 

 the profession. Many's the time and oft that I have 



