d the bill would be killed;
accordingly he promised to hold himself down to ten miles per hour.

The evidence brought in against the bill was remarkable, and to-day
it sounds strange enough. It was urged that the rails would bend
under the locomotive at high speed; that the engine would run off
the track on curves; that if the engine got round the curves the
cars would go off; that the driving-wheels would "spin," if they
went fast, without drawing the train; that the noise and sight of
the train would frighten horses and cattle; that hens would not lay
and cows would cease to give milk along by the road; that the smoke
would poison the air and blast the fields and parks; that the coach
lines would be ruined, horses would no longer be of value, and
coach-makers, harness-makers, inn-keepers and others along the great
roads would have nothing to do, etc., etc. In the face of ignorance,
ridicule, contempt, and self-interest, Stephenson firmly maintained
the safety of a good road, the stability of his engines and cars,
the harmlessness of smoke and noise, and the facility with which
animals became indifferent to trains. He said that at Killingworth
cattle would not stop feeding as the trains went by. As to the
effect of speed, he boldly asserted that at twelve miles per hour
the load on a rail would be no more than at six, and in support of
his position he appealed to skaters who go swiftly over thin ice. As
to the "spinning" of the wheels, he was positive that no such thing
ever had happened or could happen. The enemies of the bill caught at
his suggestion of twelve miles per hour, and so pressed and led him
on that he declared his honest conviction that his trains could run
on such a road as he could make twelve miles per hour. This rashness
alarmed his friends, and they tried in vain to smooth it over by
declaring such speed to be purely "hypothetical."

In spite of all that could be said in its favor, in spite of the
pressing need of better transportation for coal, cotton,
merchandise, and passengers, the bill failed. Such was the
blindness, and ignorance, and prejudice of the House of Commons!
Think of calling George Stephenson "an ignoramus, a fool, a maniac,"
in Parliament, yet such was done.

The friends of the bill were not discouraged; they determined to
apply again the next year; but poor Stephenson was discredited, Mr.
George Rennie, the great bridge engineer, was employed to make a new
survey, and Mr. Steph