unprovided with water, as they were so frequently
driven to do in the great year of disaster. The
railway stations are now adapted, by a wise
foresight, for holding out for a considerable
length of time, and every one is built over a
well—so that the great necessity of all will
never be wanting. When General Wheeler held
out at Cawnpore—before the massacre—the
great want was water, and the only censure cast
upon the general for his share in the struggle
which cost him his life, was that he neglected
this important consideration in selecting the
spot. Many were the gallant and good men
who were sacrificed in providing for the wants
of the garrison; for water could not be dispensed
with, and the well could be reached only
under fire of the enemy. The consequence
was that every bucketful procured, required a
forlorn hope to fetch it; and the supply of
this very simple article was attended with
heroism sufficient to have deserved a dozen
Victoria Crosses.

Such has been the progress of the railway
since the breaking up of the old, and the
inauguration of the new system in India, that
at the present time there is a line of railway
from every principal port in the peninsula, and
other lines are in operation or progress, securing
connexion between every important place
inland. As most of the works are proceeding
without intermission, and every week brings us
nearer to their completion, the latest information
tells us a little less than the truth; but it
is sufficient for the present purpose to note the
state of things as they were a few months ago.

The East Indian Railway, which starts, as I
have said, from Calcutta, was to be opened as
far as Delhi, a distance of more than eleven
hundred miles (including branches), by the end
of 1863, with the exception of the bridge across
the Jumna, and before these lines see the light,
it is more than likely that we may hear of the
accomplished fact. The late Lord Elgin was
one of the earliest passengers through to
Benares, when he proceeded up country in
December, 1862. He has left behind him an
official minute of his impressions of the
undertaking, in which he says:

"The distance from Calcutta by rail to
Benares is 541 miles. Work was begun in 1851.
The line to Burdwan was opened in February,
1855; to the Adjai in October, 1858; to Rajmahal
in October, 1859; to Bhagulpore in 1861;
to Moughyr in February, 1862; and to Benares
in December, 1863. In ten years, therefore,
have been opened (including branches) a
continuous length of 601 miles, being at the rate
of sixty miles a year. This is exclusive of the
portion of the line already finished between
Allahabad and Agra, in the North-West Provinces,
and of the section from Agra to Allyghur, which
it is expected will be ready in a few weeks.
Including this length, the progress of the last
Indian railway has not been short of ninety miles
a year; a rate which, if it has not come up to
the expectations first entertained, is, under all
the circumstances of the case, satisfactory as
regards the past, and encouraging as to the
future." The minute, from which the above is
an extract, is dated 7th of February, 1863.

The most important work on this line is the
Saone bridge, immediately below Benares. The
Saone is a large river during the rains, but in
the dry season little more than a huge tract of
sand several miles in breadth, the water being
very irregularly distributed. It has been always
the great difficulty, if not the great danger, of
dâk travellers; for the sand is occasionally
shifting, and has been known to engulph men,
horses, and carriages, never to be heard of more.
In travelling, however, oxen instead of horses
were generally employed. On arriving at the
Saone the traveller was stopped, and a rather
large fee demanded by the presiding authority,
in return for which his carriage, his luggage,
and himself were lifted upon a native cart. To
this were yoked six or eight oxen; and even
these were insufficient to do more than just
crawl with their burden, the wheels being
imbedded about half a foot in the sand, and the
animals' feet something like the same distance.
The sand was just sufficiently impressed to
mark the track, but there was no approach to a
hard surface, and the progression was slow and
wearisome in the extreme. I doubt whether
more than three miles an hour was ever
accomplished, and the favourite rate, I fancy, must
have been two. In the middle of the day, when
I have sometimes performed the journey when
pressed for time, the fatigue may be imagined.
The heat is intense, as may be supposed from
the fact that upon one occasion a bottle of beer
which one of my fellow-travellers took from a
hamper on the roof of the carriage, intending
to refresh his parched throat, broke upon very
slight provocation, and what liquid remained
was found to be nearly boiling. Drinking it
was, of course, out of the question. I would as
soon take hot brown brandy-and-water at eleven
o'clock on a July morning in England, a
proceeding, I believe, peculiar to "travellers'
rooms" in commercial inns.

Well, the iron horse now courses merrily over
the sand and water of the Saone. The bridge
is a magnificent work. Almost twice the length
of the railway bridge over the Thames at
Charing-cross, it consists of twenty-seven iron
girders of one hundred and fifty feet each,
supported on brick foundations. And every bit of
the iron, be it remembered, was sent out from
England, and conveyed up country by the
bullock train! The most important branch on
the line—now in course of construction—is that
to Jubbulpore, which is about the centre of India;
and here, the East Indian line will meet the Great
Indian Peninsular, and so establish the through
communication with Bombay. The East Indian
line, however, by no means stops at Delhi, which
is a little out of the direct road. A little below
that city it divides, one branch going to Delhi
and the other to Meerut, and joining again a
little above. Here the united line joins the one
from Lahore, which is already open as far
towards Delhi as Umritzur. Up to Lahore, the