proprietors of this railway declare it to be unlawful to burn atmospheric air in any of their carriages, and to insure safety and comfort to all, particularly in the submarine tunnels, they give notice that no person shall travel on any of their lines without a cloak which emits sufficient light to read by, or at least a cap, the halo round which is three feet in dia

meter

N.B.-To prevent danger, and also smoke and ashes, the proprietors give notice to persons going round the world, that they allow nothing but water to be used in the carriages as an article of fuel.

"February 1st, 1952.

Signed on behalf of the Directors,
THOMAS JONES.'"

“Nineteen hundred and fifty-two! I exclaimed aloud, that accounts for all these marvellous changes. I have by some unaccountable means, stepped forward into the middle of the twentieth century. What an extraordinary circumstance! I'll buy a luminous cap, and take a trip in this railway.

"Not to be tedious, Orris, I sat hidden there all night, and in the morning I procured a cap and a ticket, and entered a carriage, resolving to go to London.

“I had got into a passage, Orris, which was superbly illuminated, but I could see no lamps, and it seemed to me (don't laugh) that the stones themselves were giving out light.

66

Well, I wandered about a long time perfectly dumbfoundered; at last I came to another door, and having pushed it open, I found myself in an office more elegant than the drawing room of a duchess, and half filled with people, whose dress was beyond every thing remarkable; they wore luminous clothes, and had something at their shoulders which looked uncommonly like imitation wings.

"Well, my fine fellow,' I said to myself, 'you've got yourself into a pretty scrape now, wet, dirty, and dull as you are, to intrude among princes and princesses, with your dripping umbrella.'

“Now, ladies and gentlemen,' cried a cheerful voice, 'who is for the subterranean line to New York.' Off moved a considerable portion of the crowd, and the door was scarcely shut upon them, when a lady with a child in her hands, stepped up

to the last speaker and enquired, 'What time does the next threepenny train start for Mount Vesuvius?'

"Not for half an hour, ma'am.'

"Half an hour! how late that will make us! I had better perhaps go round by Cairo, and take the old balloon track back to Italy.'

"A good plan, Madam,' was the reply, it will save seven minutes.' I shut my eyes, and put my fingers into my ears lest I should hear any more, and shrunk behind a tall desk, where I sat for at least two hours, in the last stage of imbecile amazement. 'London' was written on my ticket; London I had repeatedly asked for, but when in ten minutes we stopped, and the men at the carriage doors cried out, Any lady or gentleman for London-just as if London had been some secondrate provincial town, I laughed in their faces, for I knew very well it was not London. Nevertheless I got out, and began to look about me, for one thing in this twentieth century,' I thought, 'is just as strange as another.'

"No, it was not London in which I then found myself; not the London air, nor the London aspect; the atmosphere was not only clear as noonday in Italy, but there was a balmy warmth in the sunshine, and the whole place was fresh and breezy. What a city! How shall I describe its dazzling transcendant splendour?

"It was one vast collection of palaces, built of something transparent, and reflecting the sunbeams. In spite of the traffic that went on, there was no lack of space, there was no dirt, no smoke, and the wheels moved with scarcely any noise. Large trees grew before these palaces, and partly shaded them; numerous birds fluttered in the branches; people were passing rapidly to and fro, with fresh cheerful faces, and exquisitely beautiful garments, but I saw no beggars, nothing squalid, nor any appearance of over-population, or extreme poverty.

"I wandered on among these people; at last I came to a place open like a garden, and verdant with turf. I thought, perhaps this might have been the site of Hyde Park; and seeing an old gentleman seated under some trees, I went up to him and said, 'Excuse the curiosity of a stranger, and be pleased to tell him whether this city really is London ?'

"This city?' he replied, taking off his spectacles, 'Yes, undoubtedly this city is London, and a very fine place still, sir, to my old fashioned notion, though several other cities in these dominions now far surpass it.'

"Surpass it! I exclaimed, 'can anything earthly surpass this collected multitude of palaces,-this noiseless swarming of cheerful thousands, these carriages gliding so swiftly, without visible means of motion ?"

"The old gentleman looked at me with astonishment. So much did he feel amazed, that I felt compelled to tell him my story, and how I had been propelled into the middle of a succeeding century.

"He evidently believed my tale, (more than you will do, Orris) and answered politely. Ah, that accounts for your surprise, your lot was cast in very barbarous days, quite a dark age for civilization; in fact, while Slavery and Warfare still existed, what could one expect?'

"They are done away with then?' I interrupted; 'About sixty years ago,' he replied by consent of all nations: the former was allowed to be unjust even in your day; and for the last, its folly happily became evident to those who had never considered its sinfulness.'

"Indeed?' said I, ' and pray what is that exceedingly high spire, which looms in the distance?'

"That,' he answered is the great watch-light of London; a century ago, the streets were lighted by thousands of yellow dingy gas lamps, we now substitute one enormous jet of pure white light, which shoots upwards of a mile high, and illuminates the whole city effectually; our houses are, as you observe semi-transparent,-they are thus filled with light within also, and as our atmosphere used formerly to be proverbially cold and foggy, a company was formed for superseding the use of coal, and all other combustible materials (which were not only productive of smoke, but of danger) by warming the whole city from below.'

"From below?' I enquired, doubtful of his meaning.

"From below,' he replied calmly. You were probably aware even in the nineteenth century, that the interior of the earth was of a very high temperature.'

66 6

'Yes,' I replied, we knew that if iron existed forty or fifty miles below the surface, it must always be in a state of fusion.'

“Exactly so,' he answered, 'it was, however, not certainly known, though it had been conjectured before your day, that the earth was hollow-in short, that there was a central cavity. Well, sir, it was found that the crust was particularly thin under one part of these dominions, namely under the county of Devon. A shaft was therefore sunk, and by that means we can procure as much heat as we desire."

"The differing thickness of the crust accounts, then, for difference of climate under the same latitude?' I observed.

"You are quite right,' he answered, 'it does. In Kerguelen's land, fifty degrees south latitude, human life can hardly be sustained during the winter, as your cotemporaries found to their cost, when they sailed in search of the magnetic poles; yet in nearness to the terrestrial pole, it is equal to Greenwich. The crust of the earth is there remarkably thick.'

"But,' I remarked when I had pondered on this subject for awhile, there is another point which was a great problem to my century. Pray tell me what you do with your surplus population?'

'Surplus!' he repeated, 'surplus? why we have only just enough people here, now the world is so equally populated. The whole of North America is overspread with nations descended from Europeans, and when once the vulgar error, that central Africa was one vast desert, had been exploded, thousands flocked thither from this country. We have found out a method for propelling rain clouds in that direction, so that they are seldom in want either of shade or water.'

“And your poor?' I enquired

666

'Why, the difference of intelligence, as well as of physical strength,' he answered, will always insure that some shall be far poorer than others, but I am happy to say that not many members of the human family are now destitute of food and clothing, the latter especially, is so extremely cheap.'

"How does that happen?' I asked; it is the last thing I should have expected to hear: these are indeed wonderful

changes! They make me feel extremely sad under the prospect of returning to my own century, which I used to be so extremely proud of.'

“The cheapness of food arises partly from the sea drags,' he replied.

"Sea drags,' I exclaimed,' what are they ?'

6

"In 1850 and thereabouts,' he replied, obligingly, food was extremely dear, a dish of fish commonly cost 10s.' "I am quite aware of that' I answered laughing.

"Well,' he replied, shortly after the middle of that benighted century, people got tired of just dipping a hook or dropping a net into the sea, and taking up only what happened to pass it-they thought the sea had much better be dragged just like a pond, and Government constructed a series of nets reaching from Dover to Calais, which could be opened at intervals for ships to sail through. Similar nets were then spread from Aberdeen to Bergen, and by means of swift steamers dragged southward to within four miles of the others; the space was then solid from the vast number of fish enclosed. A large family could be fed for two days on turbot, for the sum of one halfpenny, and all other fish was in proportion; we found means for preserving it for any length of time quite fresh, and repeated these sea drags all over the world. By this plan we not only secure as much good as we can use for food, but we can catch and destroy the bad and those kinds which prey on the others.' "A brilliant invention! I exclaimed. 'Pray, who was the happy person to think of it first ?'

"His name is not known,' replied my informant—' but I believe his invention was first given to the world in a small periodical called the 'Youths' Magazine.' Government soon adopted it, but I have not heard that they offered him any reward.'

6

"It is difficult to me,' I remarked, looking round, to conjecture what has become of Old London-all the buildings, factories, shops, streets, and squares that I remember ?'

"Gone, sir-levelled to the ground by common consentmaterials under your feet-we found out better ones, which have superseded them.'

"What, all gone; are even the bridges gone?' I exclaimed,