The second class, not largely represented in
the train, is patronised principally by the "upper
crust" of natives, half-castes, or Europeans in
humble life who do not pretend to be anything
better—an exception, by the way, in a country
where, for so many years, a white skin has been
considered a sign of aristocracy. Native gentlemen
used, on the first opening of the railway,
to travel first class; but they made themselves
such a nuisance to the lady-passengers by
chewing pân, smoking hookahs, and divesting
themselves of their clothing above their waists, that
European gentlemen were obliged to quarrel
with their proceedings. So there is now a tacit
understanding that they shall confine themselves
to the second class; which they do, unless a
very great gentleman indeed thinks his dignity
demands that he should take an entire compartment
for himself.

In the first class, the upper ranks of our
countrymen get exclusive carriages whenever
they can, and in the case of a small party this
is generally managed. Indeed, their baggage is
of such a large and miscellaneous description, as
to demand accommodation beyond that afforded
by the van. Anglo-Indians have not become so
habituated to railways as to forget their old dâking
habits, when a man's vehicle was his castle, in
which he found himself so much at home as to
have his bed made up, and commit himself to
the sheets with no more clothing than he would
wear in his own dormitory. His tendency
before starting is, therefore, to undress rather than
dress for the journey. At the terminus where I am
waiting, sahibs drive up clad in the lightest possible
style, especially if the time be night and the
journey a long one. The baggage arrangements
are of rather an irregular character. No sooner
are your trunks and miscellaneous appurtenances
unpacked from the carriage, than they are seized
upon by a horde of coolies who have been lying in
wait, each of whom appropriates an article to
himself and bolts with it in a different direction. Your
sensations are embarrassing at first, but you soon
find that it is better to make your bearer responsible
for bringing your property together, which
he does after a great deal of routine, bawling,
and abuse, and matter-of-course breaches of the
peace. A hideous clatter is then kept up by
your porters for the next quarter of an hour on
the subject of remuneration, which your servant
distributes with due impartiality. Of course
they are all dissatisfied; but, as they have never
expected to be otherwise, they are not surprised;
so, after a parting howl in chorus, they disperse
to dispute a little among themselves, and then
make a similar set at another passenger.

It is wonderful what a number of miscellaneous
articles a sahib will generally carry
with him, in addition to his recognised baggage,
which admits of being ticketed and stowed
away. A counterpane padded with wool, and
of about the bulk of a feather-bed, is almost
inevitable. A pillow or two may be safely
anticipated. Several loose pair of boots, for
contingencies, and a loose coat or two, also for
contingencies, may be generally relied on. A
case containing a revolver is a certain companion,
and a little battery of rifles are common
accompaniments, besides a bundle of hunting and other
riding whips, walking-sticks, and perchance a pet
billiard queue, with the point carefully covered
up. In the case of a lady-passenger, the number of
unconsidered trifles—which she will insist upon
considering—is perfectly bewildering, and
beyond the ken of man. At one time there seemed
to be a hope that our compatriots—owing to
the publicity of the new mode of conveyance—
were emancipating themselves from this slavery
to impedimenta. But the accommodation
afforded by first-class carriages has been so
extended of late, that the chances are that our
compatriots will become more luxurious than
ever. Among the latest improvements are saloon
carriages on the American plan—for ladies, I
believe, more especially—which are fitted up
with real beds and every toilet convenience.

You will not find that railway travelling in
India is quite so swift as in England; but
the rate is very respectable, and there is little to
complain of on the score of unpunctuality.
Twenty to twenty-five miles an hour—stoppages
included—is a moderate speed, and the traffic
is managed with regularity. The engineers
and guards, as well as most of the station-
masters, are Europeans; but the subordinate
work is performed by natives, who may be
depended upon with as much certainty as
the same class of employés in England. It
was feared that the accuracy and precision
required for many of the minor departments
would not suit the insouciance of the native
character, but the reverse is found to be the
fact, which I attribute to the large amount
of waiting included in so many of the duties.
Waiting, you may be sure, is synonymous with
smoking, and both are descriptions of work
which Orientals perform remarkably well—
especially when paid for by time.

The English engineers, guards, &c., are generally
men of good character, and command high
pay, which is no more than their due, considering
the life of exposure which they lead in a
country where exposure is simply risk of life.
They are subject to one temptation, however,
against the effects of which it is necessary to
keep constant guard. On this head I will say
no more than this: that a driver who does not
get drunk is a treasure to the company he serves,
and may in a few years drive himself into a
modest competency.

The mention of stations reminds me of a very
important arrangement in reference to those in
the North-West. All those of recent construction
are now built with a double object. They
are not only resting-places for travellers by the
train, but they are refuges for all comers in case
of emergency—an insurrection, in fact, the
possibility of which at any period has been a
standing idea in the Anglo-Indian mind ever
since the terrible lesson of 1857. If troublous
times should come again, there will be no need
that our compatriots should betake themselves
to chance shelter—to defenceless tenements