uction of the carriage to know when it is out of order,--to know,
also, the pace at which he can go over the road he has under him,
without risking the springs, and without shaking those he is driving too
much.

2229. Having, with or without the help of the groom or stable-boy, put
his horses to the carriage, and satisfied himself, by walking round
them, that everything is properly arranged, the coachman proceeds to the
off-side of the carriage, takes the reins from the back of the horses,
where they were thrown, buckles them together, and, placing his foot on
the step, ascends to his box, having his horses now entirely under
control. In ordinary circumstances, he is not expected to descend, for
where no footman accompanies the carriage, the doors are usually so
arranged that even a lady may let herself out, if she wishes it, from
the inside. The coachman's duties are to avoid everything approaching an
accident, and all his attention is required to guide his horses.

2230. The pace at which he drives will depend upon his
orders,--in all probability a moderate pace of seven or eight
miles an hour; less speed is injurious to the horses, getting
them into lazy and sluggish habits; for it is wonderful how soon
these are acquired by some horses. The writer was once employed
to purchase a horse for a country friend, and he picked a very
handsome gelding out of Collins's stables, which seemed to
answer to his friend's wants. It was duly committed to the
coachman who was to drive it, after some very successful trials
in harness and out of it, and seemed likely to give great
satisfaction. After a time, the friend got tired of his
carriage, and gave it up; as the easiest mode of getting rid of
the horse, it was sent up to the writer's stables,--a present.
Only twelve months had elapsed; the horse was as handsome as
ever, with plenty of flesh, and a sleek glossy coat, and he was
thankfully enough received; but, on trial, it was found that a
stupid coachman, who was imbued with one of their old maxims,
that "it's the pace that kills," had driven the horse, capable
of doing his nine miles an hour with ease, at a jog-trot of four
miles, or four and a half; and now, no persuasion of the whip
could get more out of him. After many unsuccessful efforts to
bring him back to his pace, in one of which a break-down
occurred, under the hands of a pro