Of course the cars have to be lighted artificially, and they had not learned to use the electric light in them when I last was in London in October, 1891. Gas is a poor substitute in such a place. You are forced to read your newspaper in a dim light, and the gas consumes much of the oxygen which gets into the tunnel from the stations, and from openings en route, which are made for the purpose.
Yet you do not get about as quickly in the underground as you would imagine. To avoid obstructions, and for mechanical reasons, the road takes a circuitous route and you frequently must ride a long way around to go a comparatively short distance.
Millions of Londoners, who go direct from home to business, seldom get into an under-ground train. There are many over-ground lines built on brick arches which go to the suburbs, where rents are low; for every Englishman must have his own house, no matter how small, which he regards as his “castle.” These trains are quick and cheap, and you are blessed with ample light and good air—at least as good as you can get in foggy, smoky London.
On all roads, whether on trunk lines, on local, overground or underground lines, there are first, second and third-class cars, or “carriages,” as they call them. Even some omnibuses that ply from the trunk line stations also have compartments for different classes; your Englishman is very particular with whom he rides.
Occasionally you meet with unpleasant companions in third-class carriages of local or suburban lines, but on through trains, say between Liverpool and London, the third-class carriages are comfortable, and the travelers of a respectable class.
There is a great difference in the rates, and on a long journey it is worth consideration. First-class fare is almost double that of third-class. Second-class is neither one thing nor the other, and on some lines it has been abolished.
It is an old saying that only princes, Americans and fools travel first-class. I don’t care under which head they place me, so long as they place me in a first-class “carriage.” That it is more comfortable is incontrovertible, if you’ll pardon such a big word. I say this in the face of what John Stuart Mill said, that the only reason he rode third-class was because there was no fourth.