six miles; its breadth, however, is in no part very considerable. The bold reach of the river at the head of which it stands, (called from the villas and gardens on its banks, Garden Reach,) is truly beautiful. The spacious and elegant houses, with the shrubberies and lawns, give to the cheerful scene an air both of costliness and taste.

The stranger may, by this time, form some idea of the vivid contrasts, the sudden transitions, the motley, gorgeous, picturesque spectacle, the grand and vile, the gay and sad extremes, the glare and darkness, which, in moral as well as in physical nature, India exhibits. Bishop Heber's lively description of the scene which presented itself on his landing, will afford some additional touches to the picture.

"At a distance of about nine miles from the place where we left the yacht," (to take to the bholiahs or row-boats,) "we landed among some tall bamboos, and walked near a quarter of a mile to the front of a deserted, dingy-looking house, near some powdermills. Here we found carriages waiting for us, drawn by small horses with switch tails, and driven by postilions with whiskers, turbans, bare legs and arms, and blue jackets with tawdry yellow lace. A saees (groom) ran by the side of each horse; and behind one of them were two decent-looking men with long beards and white cotton dresses, who introduced themselves as my peons or hurkarus: their badges were, a short mace or club of silver, of a crooked form, and terminating in a tiger's head, (something resembling a Dacian standard as represented on Trajan's pillar,) and a long silver stick with a knob at the head. We set out at a round trot; the saeeses keeping their places very nimbly on each side of us, though on foot, along a raised, broadish, but bad road,

with deep ditches of stagnant water on each side, beyond which stretched out an apparently interminable wood of fruit-trees, interspersed with cottages: some seemed to be shops, being entirely open, with verandahs, and all chiefly made up of mats and twisted bamboo. The crowd of people was considerable, and kept up something like the appearance of a fair along the whole line of road. Many were in bullock-carts; others were driving loaded bullocks before them; a few had wretched poneys, which, as well as the bullocks, bore too many and indubitable marks of neglect and hard treatment. Few women were seen those who appeared, had somewhat more clothing than the men,-a coarse white veil (chuddah) thrown over their heads, without hiding their faces, their arms bare, and ornamented with large silver bangles or bracelets. By degrees, we began to see dingy brick buildings of more pretensions to architecture, but far more ugly than the rudest bamboo hut,-the abodes of Hindoos or Mussulmans of the middle class; flat-roofed, with narrow casement windows, and inclosed with a brick wall, which prevented all curious eyes from prying into their domestic economy. These were soon after mingled with the large and handsome edifices of Garden Reach, each standing by itself in a little woody lawn, (a compound they call it here, by an easy corruption from the Portuguese word campaña,) and consisting of one or more stories, with a Grecian verandah along their whole length of front. As we entered Kidderpoor, European carriages were seen, and our eyes were met by a police-soldier standing sentry in the corner of the street, nearly naked, but armed with a sabre and shield;-a pagoda or two; a greater variety of articles in the shops; a greater crowd in the streets; and a considerable num

ber of caranchies or native carriages, each drawn by two horses, and looking like the skeletons of hackney-coaches in our own country. From Kidder. poor, we passed by a mean wooden bridge over a muddy creek, which brought us to an extensive open plain like a race-course; at the extremity of which we saw Calcutta, its white houses glittering through the twilight with an effect not unlike that of Connaughtplace and its neighbourhood as seen from a distance across Hyde Park.” *

"As the evening closes in," (here we borrow a different pencil,) "the crowds of carriages disperse ; and about half an hour after, you see the glare of torches in all directions, lighting the coaches and palankeens hurrying along to the splendid entertainments, of which there is a constant succession among the opulent and luxurious inhabitants of Calcutta. At twelve, you may see them returning home; and if the oppressive heat drives you, as it often does, to the roof or balcony of your house for air, soon after, when all is dark and silent round you, the cry of jackals, suddenly and wildly breaking forth, then ceasing, then again nearer or close to you, may be distinctly heard. You are then reminded, that this city is the quick growth of a century; that, where they are, it is still half jungle; that at Chowringhee, where you now stand in a spacious verandah supported by Grecian pillars, only sixty short years ago, the defenceless villagers could scarcely bar out the prowling tiger; and that, were this city to become suddenly depopulated, in sixty more, these perishable palaces of timber, brick, and chunam would totally disappear, and rank vegetation conceal the very ground they stand upon." + Heber, vol. i. pp. 20-23.

† Sketches of India, pp. 94, 5.

"The aspect of morning is sweet and refreshing in the East. Night's deep shades having restored objects to an agreeable temperature, the eye rests and recreates upon them in that short period during which they can be seen to advantage; as they lose the power of gladdening the sight in the glare that overpreads them soon after sun-rise. Crowds of Hindoos approach the river during this delightful interval, to bathe and perform their devotions. They bring with them small images representing some of their thirty thousand millions of gods; and such as have none, make little idols of the mud of the Ganges, which they set upon the bank, and adore. The men and women go down into the water together, dressed as they come to the river, except that many of the former, who wear turbans, long gowns, and slippers, lay these articles aside, and bathe in their trowsers only. On coming out, they wring their wet garments, which dry in going home. The women often strip in the river, wash their apparel, and dress there again; for the female dress is generally composed of one long piece of cloth, the end of which is rolled several times round the waist, whence it flows in graceful folds down to the ancle; the other end is drawn tastefully round the chest, so as to cover the back also, and serve as a veil. They wear rings in their noses and ears, and on their fingers and toes, with bracelets on their wrists, arms, and legs, of gold, silver, brass, ivory, glass, bone, or horn, according to their circumstances. Their forms are graceful and of commanding air, from the erect and majestic step common among the women of Hindostan." *

Of these morning devotions, ablution is an essential

* Wallace's Fifteen Years, p. 63.