were flogged, that they might pull on the rest, and the less powerful were flogged to keep up with them. The coachman, no doubt, when a child, had his share of ‘whips for a penny.’ When he grew up and entered upon his vocation, he perhaps at first compassionated the horses which he was obliged to force to their stages in a given time; he might have had his favourites among them too, and yet often and severely tested their powers of speed or endurance; and at length, as they became diseased and stiff in the limbs, and broken-winded from overwork, he may have satisfied himself with the reflection, that the fault was not his, that his employer ought to have given him a better team, and that it was a shame for him to ask any coachman to drive such “rum uns.” Habit renders him callous; he does not now feel for the sufferings of the wretched animals he guides and punishes; nay, he often coolly takes from the boot-box the short handled Tommy, which is merely the well-grown and severer whip of the species which his employer and himself had used in childhood, when they both bought “whips for a penny,” and lays it as heavily as his vigorous arm empowers him, on one of the worn-out wheelers, which unhappily for themselves are within range of its infliction. The hackney-coachmen and cabmen, too,