I will now proceed to describe the railway in my own terms, without reference to the statistics or the reports that have been published about it. My impression on leaving the station was that of setting off on an adventurous journey—not merely ensconcing oneself in the corner of a railway carriage and taking a comfortable nap. Curiosity was excited to the utmost, after the accounts I had heard, and the temporary stoppage of the line by recent heavy rains washing down some of the slopes of the cuttings rather added to the interest of a first visit. There was a tolerable amount of bustle at starting, but away we went about eleven o'clock, over low, swampy ground. For seven miles the rails run parallel with the old road to Santos, and the bridge at Cubitao (an arm of the sea) is passed, beyond which for a further distance of six and a half miles (making 13½ miles to the foot of the Serra) it becomes a dense mass of forest and jungle, which it must be difficult to convert to any useful purpose; indeed, the curse of the country is this mass of useless forest, only fit for the haunts of wild animals and reptiles. How they have hitherto been able to carry on the traffic between Santos and San Paulo is a mystery when we look at the country and miles of wood passed through. However, we are now in sight of the first rise of the mountain, which looks grim enough, and the train comes to a stop at the station, after passing an open space of ground, on which stands a house, built and formerly inhabited by the contractors, with almost a little village about it, occupied by their staff, &c., where, I understand, cricket was often played to while away the leisure hours after the labours of the day. Now everything is going to wreck, and if the land is not kept clear it will soon be a jungle again: such is the quick growth of vegetation in this country and so rank does it become. The station at the foot of the Serra is a good substantial sort of house, the station master being a young German, with a wife and family, very comfortable adjuncts in so lonely a spot; and the house was surrounded by fowls and other live stock needful to family wants. We stood contemplating the height we had to be dragged with a certain kind of awe, and presently we saw the train descending, which it did steadily enough, bringing Mr. Aubertin, the general manager, Captain Burton, her Majesty's consul, and some other notabilities of San Paulo. The former gentlemen returned with us, adding materially to the interest and pleasure of the trip by their intelligent knowledge of all we had to see and pass through.

Well, the signal is given, and we are off, mounting an incline of about 1 in 10 for a distance of some 800 yards, where there is a curve, and we are shut out from the lower level of the line, steadily ascending the mountain, until we reach the first lift, about 1¼ miles. After a short delay, we were hooked on the second lift, and as we mount the scenery becomes grander, the shadows of the mountains deeper, and the work becomes heavier. I was surprised to find so many curves, which are an additional strain on the wire rope, as well as an additional risk, requiring close attention to the break, where we rode in order to have a good view of everything. Mr. Fox, engineer-in-chief, and Mr. Welby, locomotive superintendent, were with us, and we got down to look over Fairburn's splendid stationary engines, which are of 200 horse-power, embedded in a granite foundation, about 40 feet deep, with live boilers to each, three being generally used. The curves continue on the third lift, close to which, entering the fourth lift, is the wonderful viaduct across a chasm in the mountain, which makes your head giddy to look down. The bridge is certainly a great engineering achievement, resting on iron pillars with a stone foundation, the centre being nearly 200 feet deep. We are accustomed to great altitude of railway bridges at home and elsewhere, but there is a peculiar aerial look about this one which makes one glad to be over it. At one point in this fourth section is a fine view of a deep valley behind us, the opposite mountain one dense mass of forest, and the scene is inexpressibly grand. To have made the lifts straight would have necessitated frequent tunnelling and added another half million to the cost of construction. On reaching the top of the Serra, a distance of about five miles from its base, the break is detached, a locomotive takes hold of the six carriages which have come up in two lifts, and away we whisk for some time through a thickly wooded country, for a distance of about 48 miles, stopping at several stations. Some miles before reaching San Paulo are the Campos, or level plains, covered with a short grass, and rather swampy, but no cattle are to be seen, owing, I believe, to the number of insects which fasten on them, causing sores, and being otherwise injurious. It is, however, a great relief to the eye, after the dense forests passed through, to come upon plains.

From San Paulo the line passes on to Jundiahy, a distance of 44 miles, or a total length from Santos of 88 miles, the chief interest of course being centred in the gigantic works of the Serra. The San Paulo Railway is undoubtedly one of the grandest works yet made with English capital in Brazil, and it is destined to play a very important part in the future development of this fine province. Engineering mistakes have, undoubtedly, been made, and the want of a personal superintendence of the engineer-in-chief, at all events during the construction of the important works of the Serra, is amongst the complaints made by the Brazilian Government, as also the manner in which the contract was executed. It is also questionable whether another and less costly route could not have been selected to be worked by locomotives, instead of the old fashioned but dangerous lifts. However, for the present, this is mere matter of controversy or opinion. The railway is made, though far from being complete or perfect, and it is evident that a considerable expenditure has to be faced before sufficient traffic can be carried on to realise the expectations of directors and shareholders, few of whom know anything about the undertaking or are able to comprehend the difficulties it has still to pass through.

It is curious that the real traffic is only tapped at the extreme end of the line (Jundiahy), where only commences cotton growing, and the great coffee plantations are some 30 miles further on, to which district a private company is now trying to get the line extended. One advantage possessed by the existing company will be in having their mileage rate for the bulk of their traffic over the whole of the line, and of course it will be an additional advantage to present shareholders if the line should be continued to Campinas, which is, I believe, a large and thriving place, the abode of many wealthy proprietors. Passenger traffic can only be limited for some time to come, from the absence of a resident population along the line; at the same time it will naturally increase between Santos, San Paulo, and the upper part of the Province, particularly when the line is extended in that direction. The stoppage of the line is between San Paulo and Jundiahy, where the cuttings have given way to some extent, a contingency, I fear, they will always be exposed to, from the heavy rains which prevail, and I believe I am justified in adding, the imperfect manner in which some of them have been constructed. Whilst expressing my admiration at the courage and enterprise of the resident engineer and superintendent, who jointly succeeded in getting the line opened, I cannot conceal from myself the difficulties they have still to overcome in order to carry on an adequate traffic and get the line accepted by Government. One thing is very certain, that had a deputation of shareholders been sent out to look over the intended line before fairly concluding the contract for making it, they would have returned so scared and frightened as to have led to an immediate dissolution of the company, and San Paulo would hardly have had its railway in this generation, so far as English capital is concerned. I well remember the kind of awe with which I looked over the plans and sections of the line before it was commenced, nor has this effect been diminished by a personal inspection of the works up to this place. That the railway will be a grand thing for the province there can be no doubt, and this consideration ought to render the Government lenient towards a company which, apart from its other difficulties, has suffered so much by maladministration at home.

In describing the works of the Serra, I have omitted to allude to the double rails which are laid near approaches to the stationary engines, so that the trains can pass each other, which, of course, they are constantly doing, one up and the other down, on the several lifts. I was at a loss also to understand how they could work their goods traffic to a large extent with the amount of trains running. I now find the latter applies only to the passengers, and that produce is dealt with separately, collected at the top of the Serra, and sent down during the day, three waggon loads at a time, the waggons being collected together at the foot of the Serra, and taken on to the station at Santos as convenient. These arrangements necessitate a large amount of rolling stock and extra shed accommodation, which I believe is about to be supplied. Another feature in the works of the Serra is the loose kind of material they have had to go through instead of granite rock, which they expected, the former being apt to crumble away from the effects of rain, although latterly the road has stood very well in this respect. Some of the embankments crossing the gorges of the mountains are almost perpendicular, and involved a heavy amount of labour and expense. It is quite frightful to look down them. Of course the traffic of the Serra can only be worked from sunrise to sunset, but a large amount of produce can be brought down during that time.

I have now to record a trip over the remaining portion of the line to Jundiahy, the terminus. An announcement had been issued that traffic would be resumed over the whole line on the 2nd March, but a continuance of wet weather caused further and serious impediment, so I availed of the kindness of the officials, who were making a survey of the state of the works, to go to Jundiahy in the best manner circumstances would permit. We started about 8 a.m., on Tuesday, the 23rd March, in a carriage attached to the engine, having, amongst others, Mr. Aubertin, superintendent; Mr. Fox, engineer-in-chief; the fiscal, or Government engineer; the Postmaster-General, Captain Burton, and other persons, with some luggage belonging to them, and some small stores for the use of the line.

My impression was that I had seen the heaviest works on the line, but this was a great mistake, as I soon found out. The first few miles were not of much interest, but afterwards, as we approached the mountain scenery, the view became very fine,—the bold outline of the Jaraguay, a mountain where gold mines exist, but long since ceased working—deep gorges began to open out, and huge hanging forests towered above us, in their wildest and most primitive form. At the first station I got on the engine with Mr. Fox, and certainly it is difficult to imagine a country less adapted to a railway—making it against nature, as some one significantly observed. It is a succession of deep cuttings, high embankments, curves, and heavy gradients the whole distance, at times with an incline of 1 in 45, and only occasionally what may be termed a bit of straight road. It is really wonderful how people could be found to make such a railway in this country. Scarcely a human habitation to be seen along the whole distance, except the rough mud huts for persons connected with it; and about three stations between San Paulo and Jundiahy. The stations themselves are barely sufficient for the station master to live in, though probably adequate under present circumstances. At one of them (Belem) a small quantity of cotton was stored, having gone there direct, but no means of forwarding it on at present.

The ordinary mule road to Jundiahy crosses and runs parallel to the railway for some distance, and a wretched state it appeared to be in—deep mud holes and quagmires, through which the poor mules have to struggle.

I must now refer to some of our difficulties, resulting from the state in which we found the road. The first actual gap occurs some seventeen or eighteen miles from San Paulo, where the river current has carried away a large culvert, the rails and iron bowls (sleepers) attached to them hanging suspended for some twenty feet. They were at work rebuilding another culvert. We had to leave the carriage, cross the stream, and, walking some little distance, to get to another engine, which with a ballast truck was waiting there. On we went again, at times having to pull up or go slowly over slippery places, until we passed the tunnel, with water dripping from the roof. On the other side of the tunnel occurs the most serious stoppage, the whole side of a huge hill having apparently moved forward, the advanced portion of it blocking up the road. Some under current has raised the rails several feet in places, notwithstanding the immense piles of timber that have been driven in to prevent encroachment. The conclusion is that a mass of quicksands, swollen by the heavy rains, has forced its way under the hill side and under the bed of the railway. The labour here will be very great, by having to remove the falling mass, and the uncertainty is when the movement may subside. The “mountain in labour” has brought forth no “ridiculus mus” in this case. After walking past this obstruction, we again mounted on the ballast truck, and went along until we came to a place where the river had quite overflowed the rails, and the engine had to force its way through two or three feet of water, of course at a very slow and cautious pace; here they are raising the road so as to escape, if possible, future inundations. Once through this last impediment, we rattled along over a good hard bit of road at a good pace to Jundiahy, the end of our adventurous journey. The station is a little distance from the town, which stands on a hill, and after partaking of some solid refreshments, which we fortunately found ready at the Railway Hotel, in half an hour we were again on a ballast truck going through the same process of changing from one truck to another, walking over slippery ground, until we finally again joined the carriage on the opposite side of the broken culvert, before arriving at which a thunder storm came on, accompanied by torrents of rain, and most of us were thoroughly wet through. The storm continued nearly to San Paulo, but it is amongst the gorges of the mountains it comes down most furiously.

It is not my intention to comment further on the errors that have been made in the construction of this railway. No doubt obstacles had to be met at every step; nor can shareholders be supposed to know much about engineering details of this kind. They subscribe their money on the faith of a Government guarantee, believing in the estimates, and that of course the line will, under any circumstances, pay its working expenses. The late Mr. Brunel used to repudiate the existence of engineering difficulties. It was a mere question of money; but I think had he surveyed the intended line of the San Paulo Railway he would have said both these points were involved, the result being that the original estimates are greatly exceeded, and the works still require a considerable outlay before they can be permanently relied on. The thing certainly appears incredible, if it were not the fact, that to work a line consisting almost entirely of short curves and heavy gradients, the directors should have sent out rigid locomotives suited to a first-class English railway, without even bogie frames attached, causing great wear and tear to both engines and rails. I quite believe that with suitable locomotives the line may be safely and properly worked, and it seems exactly a case in point for such engines as Fairlie's. The question as to maintenance of way must always be a very important one; whether in such a mountainous country, subject at seasons to heavy rains and flooded rivers, and with a treacherous soil, the nature of the works is such as can be relied on, for unless this is the case, as the public journals of San Paulo justly observe, the real utility of the railway is destroyed. Coffee growers and cotton planters have been looking to it as a sure and certain means of getting their produce down to Santos, and unless this can be depended on they will have to resort to the old, cumbrous, and expensive mode of carrying it upwards of one hundred miles on the backs of mules as heretofore. It is a momentous question for this province whether or not they can depend on railway conveyance, which I think may fairly be looked for when the line becomes consolidated, but both shareholders and the Government must be prepared to make sacrifices of no common kind before this end is finally attained. That the officials and managers of the line in Brazil are doing all they can is very certain, and it is for the company or the shareholders to provide them with everything required to ensure the permanent success of the company. They entered into a solemn contract with the Brazilian Government and the Provincial Government here, which it is their duty to fulfil, no matter at what sacrifice, and the sooner the shareholders look their position in the face the better, instead of being guided entirely by directors, who could only appreciate their position if they came out in a body and personally inspected the line. One thing is very certain, that if it had not been for the great liberality of the Baron de MauÁ in coming to the rescue of the concern, the works might never have been completed or the line opened.