legislation. Nobody will let him alone. While
free trade is admissible and admitted in almost
all other occupations, cab-driving is hampered
on all sides with restrictions. It has been so
from the beginning of the system. Two
centuries and a half ago, a few hackney-coaches
began to ply for hire at the inn yards in the
metropolis; a few years afterwards, they were
limited in number, and restricted by special laws,
partly at the instigation of the sedan-owners,
and they have never since been really free. Their
number, however, gradually increased; two
centuries ago, there were live hundred of them in
London; about the beginning of Queen Anne's
reign, there were eight hundred; and still they
gradually increased. But Jarvey became an
impudent surly fellow, much disposed to fleece
his clients, and very indifferent about the
fragility, dirt, discomfort, or frouzy smell, of
his vehicle. At last, something more than forty
years ago, a smart affair called a cabriolet
made its appearance, much to the wrath of
Jarvey. With great difficulty, owing to the talk
about vested interests, licenses were
obtained for eight of these cabriolets, to be
worked at two-thirds of hackney-coach fares.
These cabriolets, or cabs, as at first introduced,
were hooded chaises, drawn by one horse, and
carrying only one passenger besides the driver,
who sat on the same seat with his fare. Then,
to make the matter a little more select, and to
accommodate two passengers instead of one, a
small separate seat for the driver was made at
the right-hand side of the cab. Some time
afterwards, was introduced an odd-looking affair
like a slice from an omnibus, with seats on which
two passengers sat face to face, and a door at
the back. Then, after a few more changes,
came the most useful member of the family: the
four-wheeler: with two seats for two persons
each, two doors, and a regular driver's seat in
front; and, most dashing of all, the Hansom,
with its large wheels, open front, driver perched
behind, high-stepping horse, and pace that placed
slow-going folks in some peril.

Meanwhile, the legislature busied itself
mightily in the matter, petting and pottering
and bothering Jarvey and cabby in various ways.
At one time, there were twelve hundred hackney-
coaches licensed, against a strictly defined
number of sixty-five cabs. But at last the
limitation of number was abandoned, and every and
any happy man might become the owner or the
driver of a coach or a cab, on complying with
certain regulations. Twenty years ago, the
cabs had become ten times as numerous as the
hackney-coaches, their cheaper hire having placed
them in greater favour with the public, and their
more profitable working having attracted the
attention of owners towards them. The registrar
of hackney-carriage licenses can name the year
when hackney-coaches came down to a solitary
ONE; whether that solitary one is still living, we
do not know.

Thirty-five years ago, when legislators could
only spare a little time from the great
Reform Bill to attend to other matters, they
managed to regulate the hacks and cabs, laying
down rules about single fare and back fare, day
fare and night fare, in-distance fare and out-distance
fare, shilling-a-mile fare and shilling a
half-hour fare for coaches, eightpence a mile
fare and eightpence a half-hour fare for cabs,
licenses and badges for vehicles and drivers,
restrictions about standing in the streets,
compulsion of service when claimed by a hirer, and
so forth. Eleven years afterwards, there was
another Act passed, bristling with clauses about
lost property, furious driving, intoxication,
insulting language, loitering, licenses, payment of
duties, summonses, punishments, penalties, and
a number of other tremendous things. After
another ten years, the noble lords and honourable
members seemed to think that they had
not legislated enough; so they began again.
Owner and driver to be licensed, cab to be
inspected, certificates to be applied for, duties
and fees to be paid, police commissioners
to be all in all, fares to be reduced to sixpence
a mile, back fares disallowed, driver to
have a table of fares and a book of fares, no
charge for a moderate amount of luggage, driver
accountable for property left in the vehicle,
lamp to the vehicle at night, owner must ply his
cab, and driver must accept a fare, and a great
deal else of minute legislation.

Those who were in London, either as
residents or as visitors, fourteen years ago, will
remember the twenty-seventh of July, the
day of the cab strike. The Bill above adverted
to had just passed, and the cabman was
furious at the forced reduction from eightpence
to sixpence per mile, coupled with restrictions
in other ways. Let the Annual Register tell
us what was done, and how it ended. "At
twelve o'clock on the night of Tuesday every
cab went home, and the members of parliament
(the authors of their wrongs), on leaving
their legislative duties, had to walk home. On
the following morning not a cab was to be seen
in the streets. Great was the surprise and
consternation. Hundreds who left their houses at
an early hour with well-filled carpet-bags, or
who waited at their doors with their families
and baggage, ready to travel by railway, found
no means of conveyance. Lawyers and men of
business, tied to fixed hours, found no means of
travel but those with which nature had
provided them. Later in the morning the trains
arrived, filled with thousands of passengers,
with their luggage; but means of leaving the
stations there were none. Great was the
vexation, and many the substitutes
improvised. The omnibuses continued to run,
and thus provided for many; but carts,
hucksters' vans, barrows, and porters were eagerly
seized upon at fabulous prices. The great
majority of passengers walked, and followed
their baggage, amid the jeers of the cabmen,
who lined the pavement. So unexpected was
the stagnation, that not the slightest preparation
had been made to remedy the inconvenience;
but as the day passed on, forgotten
flys were dusted, and came forth to the light of