supported by pillars placed at equal distances, the average distance apart being about nine feet. The carriage consists of two receptacles or boxes suspended one on each side of the rail by an iron frame, having two wheels of about thirty inches diameter. The rims of the wheels are concave, and fit to the convex surface of the rail; and the centre of gravity of the carriage, whether loaded or empty, is so far below the upper edge of the rail, that the receptacles hang in equilibrium; and will bear a considerable inequality of load without inconvenience, owing to the change of fulcrum from the breadth of the rail, which is about four inches. The rail is also made capable of adjustment, so that it may be kept straight

and even.

The advantages of this arrangement consist in its being more free from lateral friction than even the edge rails; and, the rail being raised higher above the ground, it is much less liable to be covered with dust or any extraneous matters likely to affect the motion of the carriages. Also, where the surface of a country undulates considerably, a rail-way of this kind may be made without cutting to level the surface, except so far as is necessary to make a track that a horse can travel in. * *

We expect that this single rail-road will be found by far superior to any other for the conveyance of the mails and those light carriages of which speed is the principal object.

The carriages on rail-roads may be moved either by horsepower, by steam-engines, or by gas-engines. Mr Tredgold discusses at considerable length all these different modes, and endeavours as far as possible to institute a comparison between them. He concludes that the most advantageous mode of using a horse is to allow him to work six hours a day, at a velocity, when loaded, of three miles per hour. If the velocity is increased, the load must be diminished, and in this case the useful effect will not be quite so great. The mean force of a good horse, moving at the rate of three miles per hour, may be estimated at 125 pounds. This amounts to 2,250 pounds raised one mile a day, which is the average maximum effect of one horse. The usual measure of horse power, in estimating the effect of machinery, is 3000 pounds. But Mr Tredgold thinks this is too high.

There are two modes of employing steam to move carriages on a rail-way. The one is by a locomotive engine, or an engine moving upon a carriage and drawing a train of wagons. The other we will allow the author to describe for himself.

Conceive, that the whole line of road is divided into short stages, and that an engine is placed at each of these to work an endless chain, extending the whole length of one or more stages, and run

ning upon pulleys or rollers; also, that by simply moving the handle of a lever, having a friction apparatus, a carriage can be connected to the chain, and in a few seconds acquire and proceed at the same velocity, or be disconnected in an instant, if necessary. The consequences of such an arrangement would be, that the carriages would all move at the same velocity, that were attached to the same chain; and would not be liable to strike against one another. Any quantity of carriages, not exceeding the power of the engine, might be in progress at once; for any variation of the number would be regulated by the governor of the engine so as to keep the velocity the same, or nearly so. The engines could be of a better kind, kept in better condition, and under the care of better attendants, than any species of loco-motive engines.

According to Mr Tredgold's estimates, the average cost of rail-roads in England is about £5000 per mile; and that of canals about twice as much, or £10,000, equal to $44,444.44. The tolls, he thinks, never ought to exceed 2d. a mile; and in order to make a rail-road a good speculation, or to pay a fair interest on the cost exclusive of repairs, the amount of transportation must be upwards of 200 tons per day. If 428 tons were required to be transported per day, the rate of toll might be reduced to 1d. a ton per mile. Whereas on a canal, to reduce the toll to the same rate the amount of transportation must be 856 tons a day.

When the amount of transportation does not exceed 100 tons per day, the expense, including every thing, is about the same on a turnpike as on a rail-road; with the advantage in the former case, that a load may be taken in at any place, and carried to any place where it may be wanted, without an additional expense for truckage at each end of the journey. On the whole, Mr Tredgold comes to the conclusion, that a rail-road ought not to be attempted unless there is a reasonable prospect of an amount of transportation at least equal to 200 tons per day; and as this mode of conveyance possesses some advantages of speed, it is preferable to a canal, unless the transportation is likely to be as much as 1500 or 1600 tons a day.

In New England, the balance in favour of rail-roads over canals is probably much greater than in England. The ratio of the first cost of canals to that of rail-roads will be greater, also, on account of inequalities in the surface of the land; it being much easier and cheaper to pass hills and valleys by inclined planes than it would be to make them level, as would frequently be necessary in the case of canals, where locks could not be constructed. Besides, a canal is impassable in our climate on

an average five months in the year, and precisely in that part of the year when the produce of the lands must be, or will most conveniently be transported. Whereas a rail-road may be used the whole year. These considerations seem to be sufficient to give the preference to rail-roads, except where there is a much larger amount of transportation than there probably will be at present any where in New England.

The cost of transportation on our common roads and turnpikes varies from twelve to twenty cents a ton per mile, the average being probably about sixteen cents. On the road from Boston to Providence, the charge is twenty-five cents, but the cost to the proprietors of the teams, if they have loads both ways, does not exceed ten cents a ton per mile. We need not, however, rest our conclusions upon these points on probabilities. We have facts. The toll on the Middlesex canal, allowed by law, is six and a quarter cents a ton per mile. Yet we see, that except a few very heavy articles, the bulk of the transportation in that direction is performed by horse teams upon the very banks of the canal, at a rate varying from sixteen to twenty cents a ton per mile. These facts prove two things; first, that the rate of toll is too high; and, secondly, that the expense of truckage at the two ends of the route, and the danger and expense of loading and unloading so many times, together with the extra trouble, is greater than the saving in the price of transportation.

The Middlesex canal cost about 22,000 dollars a mile. A speculation of this kind can hardly be called saving at less than ten per cent. income, paying the expense of repairs out of this income. To pay this income each mile of the canal must yield 2,200 dollars per annum. It is not passable more than two hundred days in a year on an average; consequently the tolls ought to be eleven dollars a day per mile. To pay this at six and a quarter cents per ton, would require the transportation of 176 tons a day the whole length of the canal. If the tolls were reduced to three cents, which must probably be done, in order to bring the canal into triumphant competition with the road upon its banks, it would require a transportation equal to 367 tons a day for the whole distance.

Now we would ask, where, in the neighbourhood of Boston, can a place be found over which one half of this quantity would be likely to be transported either on a canal or a rail-way. We forbear, at present, any remarks upon the late contemplated canal to the Connecticut, and thence to the Hudson, as we intend at some future time to make the report of the commissioners the

subject of a separate article. We cannot, however, but express the unwelcome doubt, which is always obtruding itself upon us, though we always repel it with a most patriotic zeal, whether the merchants of Boston would ever be able to do business upon such a fascinating plan as to induce the manufacturers and agriculturists beyond the Hudson, to clamber over or plough through the intervening mountains, with their merchandise and produce, when it is so easy to drop them upon the deck of a sloop or a boat, and let the current waft them to a much nearer and a much larger market. We believe that the sober people of Massachusetts will hesitate long before they offer violence to their purses any such cause.

in

Roman Nights, or the Tomb of the Scipios. By ALESSANDRO VERRI. In 2 Vols. Translated from the Italian, by a Lady New York. 1825. 12mo. pp. 177 and 178.

of New York.

THIS work is a translation from "Le Notti Romane" of Count Alessandro Verri. The original has high reputation among the author's countrymen. It is a series of fictitious dialogues between the spirits of the great men of ancient Rome. The author represents himself as having been in this city at the time of the discovery and opening of the tomb of the Scipios, in the year 1780. As he had long cherished an enthusiastic admiration for the master spirits of old Rome, and for all that reminded him of their fame, he hastened to visit the remains of this illustrious race. He lingered among the catacombs where they reposed, till late in the evening, when his lamp was extinguished by a sudden gust. In the darkness which ensued, the shades of the dead began to arise from their tombs, and assemble round a spirit of majestic mien, who immediately addressed them in an eloquent discourse. After he had concluded his discourse, they retired to their graves, but he remained. Our author accosted him, and found him to be no other than the spirit of Cicero. While they were communing together, the cavern was again filled with innumerable shades of old Romans, drawn thither, like the spirit of Cicero, by the opening of the tomb of the Scipios. Their meeting revived the feelings, which they had cherished while living; and a scene of mutual praise and recrimination immediately ensued, among the most illustrious characters of Roman history. During three successive nights, our author remains a patient listener. On the fourth night, he summons courage to address them, and is

questioned in return, respecting the present state of the eternal city. Wherupon he invites them to accompany him, and judge for themselves. Under his guidance, they contemplate the monuments of its present and former grandeur, and are filled in turn with grief, anger, and admiration, at the changes which time has made in its appearance, manners, and institutions. The book concludes with an address delivered by the author, containing an abstract of the history of modern Rome, and some remarks by Cicero on the unfading grandeur of the city.

The form of dialogue which our author has selected for conveying information and criticism, and portraying historical characters, is well adapted to blend instruction with amusement. And if we regard these dialogues simply as imaginary conversations between the great men of old Rome, they have considerable merit. Many important passages of Roman history are discussed with spirit, and the conflicting opinions of the disputants afford exercise to our judgments. Atticus gives a striking picture of the horrors attending the Roman conquests, of the cruelty of their triumphal spectacles, and also of their domestic manners and public amusements. The conversations are in general characteristic and well supported.

If, however, we consider the dialogues as taking place, according to our author's representation, between the spirits of the Roman dead in the eighteenth century, they are more open to criticism. In the first place, the mode of assembling the spirits seems exceptionable. They are described as having wandered separately and without the power of meeting, since their departure from life, till they are brought together at the tomb of the Scipios, by the violation of this sacred sepulchre. The solitary existence of disembodied spirits seems to us conformable neither to Pagan nor Christian ideas of futurity, and if such were their condition, the opening of the tomb of the Scipios is certainly too insignificant an event, to bring them together by myriads, when their solitude had been undisturbed by the important revolutions, which their city had experienced during the lapse of ages.

We object also to the picture of their condition and character, as inconsistent with itself. As to their condition, they appear in general to be experiencing no retribution. There is nothing to show, that Marius and Sylla are not as happy as Cicero and Brutus. And yet, in the instances of Nero and the Parricide, we are presented with spectacles of the most dreadful punishment. As to their character, Cicero represents them as enjoying a wide sphere of observation and lofty meditation, as filled with