THE HORSE. 201 



accidents — more and more yet ! Are we never to 

 have our fill of this kind of gratification ? for such it 

 must be or we should never endure it. It is gratis 

 dictum with the devil to it, to give advice and to call 

 for reflection upon those whose answer is, or whose 

 silence and disregard implies, this is our saucy taste, 

 and we will have it. Only a few more vain, but well 

 meant words, then on the subject. " Tis the pace 

 that kills the horse." What mighty mischiefs 

 would accrue to our public and commercial interests, 

 or our private accommodation, were an hour or two 

 in the four and twenty abated and abstracted from 

 our travelling speed ? I apprehend we might grow 

 as rich, live as well, and live as long, some of us 

 much longer, without flying as with it. And eight 

 to ten miles per hour, with sufficiently short stages, 

 might well serve every rational purpose, whether of 

 business or pleasure. It is a grave subject to laugh, 

 at; but surely there is something of the ludicrous in 

 the boasts of our flyers, on our having arrived at 

 such a bent of speed in all points, that the four horses 

 of a coach may be changed and harnessed, by day or 

 in the dark, in a certain number of seconds ! This 

 is, indeed, Newmarket on the road, but without that 

 care, and precision, and caution, ever to be found at 

 Newmarket, the head quarters of every thing that is 

 guarded and regular. No doubt our dependence ought 

 to be great and implicit in the care and solicitude of 

 fellows, perhaps dosing or half stupid, whilst hurry- 

 ing post haste to harness the horses ; and that we 

 have no need to fear any carelessness or blunder in 



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