UNDER THE LONDON STREETS.
It is true that there are tubes beneath the London streets, but with one exception, they are not used for the transmission of letters, but for telegrams only. This exception is a tube between Euston Station and the General Post Office, through which a few day mail-bags to and from towns on the London and North-Western are sent. The Post Office authorities find that these tubes are quicker than carts, but their speed is not so great as is usually supposed. From seventeen to thirty-five miles an hour is the average, but with more powerful engines it is believed that eighty miles an hour could be attained. The longest tube in London is two miles three hundred and thirty-nine yards in length. Originally there were only seventeen pneumatic tubes in operation, the longest being that which went to Fenchurch Street, namely, nine hundred and eighty yards. The second in length was that to Leadenhall Street—six hundred and fifty-nine yards. The diameter of the tubes varies from one and a half inches to two and a quarter inches. The telegrams are placed in little leather cases, called "carriers." The time taken in transmission to Fenchurch Street is, by atmospheric pressure, one minute five seconds; by suction the speed is somewhat slower—one minute twenty seconds.
The steam engine used at the General Post Office is forty horse power. For sending one of the carriers from forty to fifty yards not more than four or five seconds is necessary. The most complete tubes in London are those under the streets between Temple Bar and the General Post Office, a distance of 1,333 yards. The tubes form what may be called a pneumatic railway, with an up and down line. In these tubes telegrams are sent which sometimes are not sent by electricity at all. Thus, if any one wishes to wire from Cheapside to the Temple, his message is placed in a carrier and sent under the streets.
SYMPATHY.
"Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep."
When childhood's joyous voice resounds
With innocent delight,
Check not the infant mirth, nor put
Those happy smiles to flight.
Add to the joy while it remains,
For on in riper years
Those eyes, now beaming with delight,
May be suffused with tears.
When on the ocean's stormy deep
The voyagers are tossed,
And seem, in that one stormy hour,
To think all hope is lost—
If they secure the haven reach,
And lose their fears and cares,
While they rejoice their homes to gain,
Mingle thy joy with theirs.
And is thy neighbour mourning now
The loss of kindred dear?
Then give thy sympathy, and drop
Upon the grave a tear.
Or knowest thou an orphan, left
To tread this world alone?
Speak words of comfort, lend thine aid,
Or take the wanderer home.
Tell of the loveliness and bloom
Of Nature to the blind;
Tell of the joys of heaven, and thus
Shed light upon the mind.
Then sympathize with every one,
And the commandment keep—
"Rejoice with them that do rejoice,
And weep with them that weep."
M. E. C.