To a great the sedate air of one who has got out of the common currents of our crowded existence, and who gravely surveys us now and then from the vantage-ground afforded by a few feet of iron plating. MOST of us pass in and out of railway fireman who stands beside him. stations somewhat hurriedly. With extent the nature of his employment seems some of the officials-the ticket-clerks and to isolate him, and he watches the throng of porters-we exchange a few of the briefest | travellers in their "exits and entrances " with possible sentences, and, in spite of "cautions" by the authorities, a good many travellers are in the habit of giving a small fee to the lastmentioned of these public servants. The railway guard is to some extent the companion of the passengers; at any rate we see him looking after his charge at every station at which our train stops, and we have a general idea that he is always within hail if we want him. But when our tickets are taken, our boxes and portmanteaus, if we are so unfortunate as to have any, stowed away, and our seats secured, we usually dismiss all thought of the agents by whose care and skill we are conducted to our destination. We settle down to our book or our newspaper, or find amusement by looking out upon the everchanging panorama which seems to be rapidly passing by the carriage window. When we get to the end of our journey, if we are a few minutes late we grumble, with a vague, impersonal sort of reference to "the train," or "the line," or perhaps "the company," but if we are in good time we probably make no remark at all about the matter. For several hours, however, it may be, our safety, and even our life, has been largely dependent upon the faithful and intelligent performance of duty by one man—the enginedriver. We catch a glimpse of him now and then, with his companion the fireman, if we have to pass the engine. Here and there a passenger says a kindly word, and perhaps hands him a newspaper, but this is the exception. And, indeed, the engine-driver himself generally looks like an habitually taciturn man. His scorched and weatherbeaten face has a preoccupied expression, as if he were absorbed in contemplation. He is rarely seen to converse even with the Of the engine-driver in private life the present writer knows little or nothing, but he has often thought that the services which the men who follow this calling render the community have scarcely yet received their due meed of sympathetic recognition. The value of such recognition is not exactly to be estimated, nor, perhaps, is the form which it shall take to be definitely set forth. But it is not on that account a matter of indifference. The public appreciation of any class of men has some influence in maintaining the standard of character and of feeling in that class, and thus reacts for the public good. Men who are not altogether base respond to the good impressions and high expectations which may have been formed concerning them. Every profession and public occupation to some extent is affected by public opinion, and answers to the sense of the public estimate. There was sound philosophy in the hoisting of that historic signal, which inaugurated one of the most celebrated English naval victories: "England expects every man to do his duty." scarcely a common sailor in the British fleet whose pulse did not throb with new energy, and who did not feel himself girded for more gallant service, when those simple and wisely chosen words passed from ship to ship. And influences and considerations which stir men to heroism on great occasions are acting, we may be sure, and reacting, every day in the common course of life. It is with the desire to help, if in ever so small a measure, towards the formation and extension of a true, kindly There was and Christian public sentiment towards a class of men whose services we all receive, that these lines are written. Under ordinary circumstances the duties of the engine-driver involve not a little hardship, and there are occasions when they require courage and presence of mind in an unusual degree. For danger seems never to be very far distant in all kinds of human locomotion, and the railway traffic of modern times is carried on at a cost to life and limb which, whatever may be said about it comparatively, makes, when summed up, a ghastly total. The engine-driver and his mate' are exposed, generally with very slight protection, often with no protection at all, to all the trying vicissitudes of weather which characterize our climate. Through blinding sleet and snow, through chill drenching rain, amidst the frosts of winter and the fierce heats of summer, in the blackness of the night and under the glare of the meridian sun, through raging wind and furious tempest, the journey must be performed; the vast and complicated machine by which the motive force is applied to the long train of carriages or waggons must thunder along its iron way, controlled by a firm hand, watched by a steady eye, and cared for by a quick intelligence. The engine-driver has on the one hand to give constant heed to the signals, which he is bound implicitly to obey, and on the other hand carefully to calculate his rate of speed; for every minute of time occupied beyond the appointed period for the performance of a journey must be accounted for, and if a man cannot keep time he forfeits his prospects of promotion, and is in danger of losing his post. All this implies a considerable strain upon both mental and physical energies, and the engine-driver sooner or later generally has to pay the penalty of this severe testing of his powers. Rheumatism, chest affections, and a failure of strength in the feet and limbs, are frequently the experiences which fall to his lot as the years go on, and which can be readily traced to such causes as his exposure to the weather and the heat of the engine, and to the incessant vibration of his limited standing place. His hours of labour are perhaps generally longer than they ought to be, and certainly they are occasionally altogether unreasonable. A bad practice, we are told, prevails on many lines of working drivers a great number of hours consecutively and then keeping them in long idleness, so that their pay shall not include overtime. Facts every now and then come to light as to this question of long hours which rightly shock public feeling, and which seem to make it sufficiently clear that there is need of authoritative regulation of the hours of labour of all the railway servants actually engaged in carrying out the traffic. arrangements. A specimen of such facts we find quoted from an inspector's report, in a pamphlet before us.* Referring to an accident which occurred on the North Staffordshire Railway some time ago, the writer says: "The guard was seriously injured and has since died. He had been nineteen hours on duty, was over-fatigued (very possibly asleep), and omitted to apply his brake. The driver of the engine was stated to have been confused by drink after having been on duty for thirty-two hours. He was employed altogether forty hours.' The fireman, who, it is said, "had been asleep on the engine and was unfit for duty," had been employed the same number of hours at a stretch ! In the interests of public security, even if not for the sake of the poor men themselves, such disgraceful over-taxing of human powers. of endurance ought to be sternly prevented by the law. Instances not unfrequently occur which suggest to us the existence of a vast amount of brave endurance and of true heroism, which, if they were generally known, would elicit admiration and sympathy not less cordial than that which we bestow, for example, upon our sailors. There is reason to believe that many a gallant engine-driver has clung to his post in moments of imminent peril, courageously risking and forfeiting his life, in order to fulfil his duty and if possible save his train. In other cases, which happily have not proved fatal, the same qualities of cool courage and decision have not been wanting. The following may no doubt be regarded as a typical incident:-A driver named Standiford, in charge of an up midnight mail, expected to pass a driver named Coven, near the Harrow Junction, Coven being in charge of a mail going down. As they did not pass near the usual spot, Standiford became anxious and eagerly watched every signal. Something, he thought, must be wrong, for it was very unusual for the mail to be late, and it was now some seventeen minutes overdue. While the fireman stood "steady to his brake," Standiford never lifted his hand from the regulatorhandle. Suddenly, he felt and heard a dull thud, indicating that the engine had struck something on the line. A spot of oil, as he * "Railway Servants: An Appeal to Parliament and the Public." supposed, had settled on his face, but on not been given with such self-possession and instant decision, might have led to a distressing accident, and would certainly have caused painful alarm. Here is another case in which similar promptitude and courage were exhibited under circumstances of probably yet greater peril. A driver at Woking was crossing from one line to another, when, to his dismay, he suddenly perceived that the Exeter express was coming. Two courses seemed to present themselves: either he might throw himself from his engine, and so probably save himself, and leave his train to an inevitable collision, or he might endeavour to run on in front of the express until it should be possible to bring it to a stand. He chose the latter course, and although at one time the engine of the express was within a yard or two of him, he effected his object and got his train away in safety. There are about 10,000 engine-drivers in Great Britain, and as nearly as possible the same number of firemen, while the other railway servants employed in actually attending to the traffic number certainly considerably more than 100,000 men. It is a startling and painful fact that the returns of railway management for 1874, 1875, and 1876, show that during this period 2,249 railway servants were killed, and 10,305 were injured. Statistics of the different proportions in which these lamentable occurrences took place in the various classes of railway servants are before us, but we do not feel that they are comprehensive enough to afford safe ground for very much generalisation. This, however, is clear, that among those who incur the most serious risk we must certainly class the engine-drivers. The companies allege that a very large proportion of these accidents arise from the carelessness of the railway servants themselves. But it has been proved again and again in evidence before Parliamentary Committees that this statement is only very partially true, and that a few obviously reasonable precautions, which have been repeatedly pointed out, might have prevented the occurrence of a large number even of the accidents which are by the companies attributed to carelessness. Moreover, the perils and responsibilities of at least some of the railway servants scarcely seem to be considered in the scale of remuneration awarded to them. Taking the case of the engine-drivers-who, with their comrades the firemen, and such other officials as signalmen and shunters, are least likely to receive any addition to their wages in the form of gratuities from the public-we find that the wages of an engine-driver vary from about thirty shillings to two pounds five shillings a week. In Scotland we believe that the rate of payment is considerably lower than in England, and it must be understood that the higher figure named represents the payment only of the most liberal companies to the most capable men. It is not our desire to make out a case of oppression or of extreme hardship on behalf of engine-drivers or of any other class of the servants employed upon our railways. We have indicated sufficient evidence that their lot is not unfrequently severe. But we wish to point out that the public owe a certain consideration to classes of this kind, because from the nature of their position they stand In specially in need of Parliamentary protection. The tendency of all great public organizations is to forget the claims of the individual; and one of the most serious drawbacks of the modern development of commercial enterprise is that the connection between employer and employed has become less direct, and the natural sympathy between them proportionately lessened. In great public enterprises like those connected with railways, unless a sense of duty be cherished by the public, the tendency is that the men employed should be regarded very much in the same light as the "rolling stock"-to be maintained simply at the least possible cost. 1874, under the impression produced by some distressing accidents, a Royal Commission was appointed to inquire into the subject of accidents to railway servants. That Commission presented its report to Parliament in 1876, having taken a great mass of important evidence. The report embodied a considerable number of recommendations as to matters upon which legislation was required, but we believe we are correct in stating that hitherto no legislation upon the matters referred to has taken place. There is one point in which it seems to us an alteration in the existing law is urgently required. As the law now stands, the railway servant who meets with an accident, fatal or otherwise, in the discharge of his duties, has no legal claim for compensation from the company employing him. It is true that the companies often "do something " for those who are thus overtaken by misfortune, but cases of hardship occur in sufficient number to show that the claims of the injured or bereaved in such cases ought not to be left on such a precarious footing. A case which occurred in 1876 may be mentioned as a sample of many others. A train between Blandford and Wimborne ran off the line, and tore up the line for some five hundred yards before it came to a standstill. The inquiry showed that the circumstance was due to the decayed condition of the road; "the sleepers were so rotten that they could be broken to pieces between the finger and thumb." The driver of the train, "the oldest and most experienced driver on the line, was killed." His wife and family were left penniless, but they had no legal remedy or ground of action for damages against the company. Again, the case has frequently occurred of the signalman being at fault. The driver, however, is bound implicitly to obey the signalman's directions, and is liable to a criminal prosecution if he does not do so. But if in obeying a false signal the driver should incur injury or death there is no legal claim whatever for compensation. It seems as if the engine-drivers, and indeed the railway servants generally, wanted an able Christian friend, such as the sailors have found in Mr. Plimsoll, to espouse their cause in Parliament. And certainly a full knowledge and appreciation of the case of railway servants-and particularly of the class to which we have more especially referred in this paper on the part of the public generally, would draw forth, we cannot doubt, a feeling of sympathy and regard towards those who serve us when we travel on the iron rail similar to that which we rightly cherish towards those who serve us in our travels and our traffic on the sea. JOHN ASHWORTH, BY ALEXANDER MACLEOD SYMINGTON. MR. ASHWORTH died nearly four years hidden ones scattered among the rough mass ago, in his sixty-second year. For fif- of woollen weavers. John Ashworth's mother teen years or more before, he was well-known was one of these, and no Mary, no Monica -famous, indeed, above many-as a single-ever enjoyed more remarkably the reward of hearted worker among the poorest of the poor, a popular lecturer, and the writer of certain "Strange Tales." When he visited Edinburgh in 1869 the first Editor of the SUNDAY MAGAZINE introduced him to a crowded audience as one whose "books are beyond all my praise; they are circulated by thousands, yea, by millions, and not only in the cottages of the poor, but in the mansions of the rich." Next day he crossed the city to breakfast with him, and "have about two hours' talk with one of God's honoured servants." John Ashworth was a man after Dr. Guthrie's heart, his equal in thorough-going devotion to the cause of the most wretched and degraded. We have now the opportunity of knowing the history of so good and successful a life, and a noble story it is of the triumph of faith and principle. None of his own strange tales has in it more of pathos and instruction. For the surroundings of his childhood we must go to one of the suburbs of Rochdale, a mean-built, grimy, toil-stained place, full of coarse sounds, fighting dogs and their worthy masters, unsexed women, drink, gambling, profanity. Such were Cutgate and Bagslate in 1813, and later. When John Ashworth was born in that year, the eighth child of a tippling weaver, an old woman kissed him and said, "Ay, bless thee, thou'rt a fine lad, but thou'rt one too many." The good neighbour was mistaken, for there is another side to the picture besides the dark one, which Mr. Calman * and Mr. Ashworth himself have drawn. There was a thriving Sunday-school | in Bagslate, and there were some of God's persevering prayer. This is the very boy, of |