who might
have been conciliated by such overtures at an earlier period) felt they
were fully committed to it, and that now they could not well draw back.
Besides, the remedies offered by the canal companies could only have had
the effect of staving off the difficulty for a brief season,--the
absolute necessity of forming a new line of communication between
Liverpool and Manchester becoming more urgent from year to year.
Arrangements were therefore made for proceeding with the bill in the
parliamentary session of 1825.

On this becoming known, the canal companies prepared to resist the
measure tooth and nail. The public were appealed to on the subject;
pamphlets were written and newspapers were hired to revile the railway.
It was declared that its formation would prevent cows grazing and hens
laying. The poisoned air from the locomotives would kill birds as they
flew over them, and render the preservation of pheasants and foxes no
longer possible. Householders adjoining the projected line were told
that their houses would be burnt up by the fire thrown from the
engine-chimneys; while the air around would be polluted by clouds of
smoke. There would no longer be any use for horses; and if railways
extended, the species would become extinguished, and oats and hay be
rendered unsaleable commodities. Travelling by rail would be highly
dangerous, and country inns would be ruined. Boilers would burst and
blow passengers to atoms. But there was always this consolation to wind
up with--that the weight of the locomotive would completely prevent its
moving, and that railways, even if made, could _never_ be worked by
steam-power.

Indeed, when Mr. Stephenson, at the interviews with counsel, held
previous to the Liverpool and Manchester bill going into Committee of the
House of Commons, confidently stated his expectation of being able to
impel his locomotive at the rate of 20 miles an hour, Mr. William
Brougham, who was retained by the promoters to conduct their case,
frankly told him that if he did not moderate his views, and bring his
engine within a _reasonable_ speed, he would "inevitably damn the whole
thing, and be himself regarded as a maniac fit only for Bedlam."

The idea thrown out by Stephenson, of travelling at a rate of speed
double that of the fastest mail-coach, appeared at the time so
preposterous that he was unable to find any engineer who would risk his
reputation in supporting such "absurd views." Speaki