young and old, a delightful
companion. Though mainly an engineer, he was also a profound thinker on
many scientific questions: and there was scarcely a subject of
speculation, or a department of recondite science, on which he had not
employed his faculties in such a way as to have formed large and original
views. At Drayton, the conversation usually turned upon such topics, and
Mr. Stephenson freely joined in it. On one occasion, an animated
discussion took place between himself and Dr. Buckland on one of his
favourite theories as to the formation of coal. But the result was, that
Dr. Buckland, a much greater master of tongue-fence than Mr. Stephenson,
completely silenced him. Next morning, before breakfast, when he was
walking in the grounds, deeply pondering, Sir William Follett came up and
asked what he was thinking about? "Why, Sir William, I am thinking over
that argument I had with Buckland last night; I know I am right, and that
if I had only the command of words which he has, I'd have beaten him."
"Let me know all about it," said Sir William, "and I'll see what I can do
for you." The two sat down in an arbour, and the astute lawyer made
himself thoroughly acquainted with the points of the case; entering into
it with all the zeal of an advocate about to plead the dearest interests
of his client. After he had mastered the subject, Sir William rose up,
rubbing his hands with glee, and said, "Now I am ready for him." Sir
Robert Peel was made acquainted with the plot, and adroitly introduced
the subject of the controversy after dinner. The result was, that in the
argument which followed, the man of science was overcome by the man of
law; and Sir William Follett had at all points the mastery over Dr.
Buckland. "What do _you_ say, Mr. Stephenson?" asked Sir Robert,
laughing. "Why," said he, "I will only say this, that of all the powers
above and under the earth, there seems to me to be no power so great as
the gift of the gab." {350}

One Sunday, when the party had just returned from church, they were
standing together on the terrace near the Hall, and observed in the
distance a railway-train flashing along, tossing behind its long white
plume of steam. "Now, Buckland," said Stephenson, "I have a poser for
you. Can you tell me what is the power that is driving that train?"
"Well," said the other, "I suppose it is one of your big engines." "But
what drives the engine?" "Oh, very likely a canny Newcastle d