On the 7th of March, late in the evening, I reached Auranjabad. Captain Stewart, who lived outside the town, received me with the same cordiality as the other residents had done.

8th March. Captain Stewart and his wife accompanied me this morning to the town to show me its objects of interest, which consisted of a monument and a sacred pool. Auranjabad is the capital of the Deccan, has 60,000 inhabitants, and is partly in ruins.

The monument, which is immediately outside the town, was built more than two hundred years since by the Sultan Aurung-zeb-Alemgir, in memory of his daughter. It by no means deserves to be compared to the great Tadsch at Agra. It is a mosque, with a lofty arched dome and four minarets. The building is covered all round - the lower part of the outside with a coating of white marble five feet high; the upper portion is cased with fine white cement, which is worked over with ornamental flowers and arabesques. The entrance doors are beautifully inlaid with metal, on which flowers and ornamental designs are engraved in a highly artistic manner. Unfortunately, the monument is already much decayed; one of the minarets is half fallen in ruins. In the mosque stands a plain sarcophagus, surrounded by a marble trellis-work. Both have nothing in common with the great Tadsch beyond the white marble of which they are constructed; in richness and artistic execution, they are so much inferior, that I could not understand how any one could be led to make so incredible a comparison.

Near the mosque lies a pretty marble hall, surrounded by a neglected garden.

The reigning king would have removed the marble from this monument for use in some building in which he was to be interred! He requested permission to do so from the English government. The answer was to the effect, that he could do so if he wished, but he should remember, that if he had so little respect for the monuments of his predecessors, his own might experience a similar fate. This answer induced him to relinquish his intentions.

The pool considered sacred by the Mahomedans is a large basin, constructed of square stones. It is full of large pikes, none of which, however, are allowed to be taken; in fact, there is an attendant appointed to supply them with food. The fish are consequently so tame and familiar, that they will eat turnips, bread, etc., out of the hand. The rainy season causes the death of many of them: were it not for this fortunate circumstance, the pool would before long contain more fish than water. Since the English have come here, the attendants are said not to be so conscientious, and very often smuggle fish out of the pool into the English kitchens, for the sake of a little ready money.

After spending a very agreeable day, I took a hearty farewell of my friendly hostess, and continued my journey in a fresh waggon towards Puna, 136 miles distant.

9th March. Toka. The roads here began to be better, and there were bungalows to be had on payment of the ordinary fees.

10th March. Emanpoor, a small village situated on the summit of a chain of hills. I found here the handsomest bungalow I had seen during the whole journey from Benares to Bombay.

11th March. We passed the whole day in travelling through a barren country, over naked hills and mountains: the majestic solitary trees with the wells had already ceased at Auranjabad.

Towards noon we passed the very flourishing town of Ahmednugger, in the neighbourhood of which a large English military station is established.

12th March. The bungalow at Serur was too near, that at Candapoor too distant. I therefore decided upon taking up my quarters for the night under the eaves of a house.

13th March. In Candapoor there are some handsome Hindoo temples and several small Mahomedan monuments. Near Lony is a large English military station. I also found an obelisk erected there in memory of a battle won by 1,200 English against 20,000 natives.

14th March. Puna. I had endless trouble here to find Mr. Brown, to whom I had an introduction from Mr. Hamilton. The Europeans reside in all parts of the town, for the most part miles apart, and I had the misfortune to meet with some who were not the most polite, and did not consider it worth taking the trouble to give me information. Mr. Brown, on the contrary, received me as kindly as I could desire.

His first inquiry was whether any accident had happened to me on the road. He told me that, only a short time since, an officer was robbed between Suppa and Puna, and as he attempted to defend himself, was murdered; but he added that such instances were extraordinarily rare.

I had arrived about noon. After dinner, Mr. Brown conducted me to the town, which belongs to the East India Company. It contains 15,000 inhabitants, and is situated at the junction of the rivers Mulla and Mutta, over both of which handsome bridges are thrown. The streets are broad and kept clean; the houses, like those in Udjein, are furnished with false wooden walls. Some were painted all over, and belonged mostly, as I was informed, to fakirs, with whom the town swarmed.

It was the month in which the Hindoos prefer to celebrate their marriages, and we met in several streets merry processions of that kind. The bridegroom is enveloped in a purple mantle, his turban dressed out with gold tinsel, tresses, ribbons, and tassels, so that from a distance it appears like a rich crown. The depending ribbons and tassels nearly cover the whole face. He is seated upon a horse; relatives, friends, and guests surround him on foot. When he reaches the house of the bride, the doors and windows of which are securely closed, he seats himself quietly and patiently on the threshold. The female relations and friends also gather together here, without conversing much with the bridegroom and the other men. This scene continues unchanged until nightfall. The bridegroom then departs with his friends; a closely covered waggon, which has been held in readiness, is drawn up to the door; the females slip into the house, bring out the thickly-veiled bride, push her into the waggon, and follow her with the melodious music of the tam-tam. The bride does not start until the bridegroom has been gone a quarter of an hour. The women then accompany her into the bridegroom's house, which, however, they leave soon afterwards. The music is kept up in front of the house until late in the night. It is only the marriages of the lower classes that are celebrated in this manner.

There is a road leading from Puna to Pannwell, a distance of seventy miles, and travellers can post all the way. From Pannwell to Bombay the journey is made by water. I adhered to the cheaper baili, and Mr. Brown was so obliging as to procure one for me, and to lend me a servant.

On the 15th of March I again set out, and on the same day arrived at Woodgown, a village with one of the dirtiest bungalows in which I ever made up my bed.

16th March. Cumpuily. The country between this place and Woodgown is the most beautiful that I saw in India; the view from a mountain some miles on this side of Kundalla, was particularly striking. The spectator stands here in the midst of an extensive mountainous district: peaks of the most diversified forms are piled in numerous rows above and alongside of each other, presenting the most beautiful and variegated outlines.

There are, also, enormous terraces of rock, flattened cones of peaks, with battlements and pinnacles, which at first sight might be taken for ruins and fortresses. In one place the lofty roof of a majestic building presents itself - in another, a gigantic Gothic tower rises aloft. The volcanic form of the Tumel mountain is the most uncommon object which meets the eye. Beyond the mountains extends a wide plain, at the extremity of which lies the polished surface of the long wished-for ocean. The greater part of the mountains is covered with beautiful green woods. I was so much delighted with the extreme beauty of the prospect, that I congratulated myself for the first time on the slow pace of my sleepy oxen.

The village of Karly lies between Woodgown and Kundalla; it is famous on account of its temples, which are about two miles distant. I did not visit them, because I was assured that they were not half so interesting as those at Adjunta and Elora.

Kundalla lies upon a mountain plateau. There are several pretty country-houses here, to which many European families, from the neighbourhood of Bombay, resort during the hot weather.

In the Deccan, and the province of Bombay, I found the natives were less handsome than in Bengal and Hindostan; their features were much coarser, and not so open and amiable.

For several days we have again met very large trains of oxen, some of the drivers of which had their families with them. The females of these people were very ragged and dirty, and at the same time loaded with finery. The whole body was covered with coloured woollen borderings and fringes, the arms with bracelets of metal, bone, and glass beads; even to the ears large woollen tassels were hung, in addition to the usual ornaments, and the feet were loaded with heavy rings and chains. Thus bedecked, the beauties sat on the backs of the oxen, or walked by the side of the animals.

17th March. Since the attack of the negroes in Brazil, I had not been in such a fright as I was today. My driver had appeared to me, during the whole journey, somewhat odd in his manner, or rather foolish: sometimes abusing his oxen, sometimes caressing them, shouting to the passers-by, or turning round and staring at me for some minutes together. However, as I had a servant with me who always walked by the baili, I paid little attention to him. But this morning my servant had gone on, without my consent, to the next station, and I found myself alone with this foolish driver, and on a rather secluded road. After some time he got down from the waggon, and went close behind it. The bailis are only covered over at the sides with straw matting, and are open at the front and back; I could therefore observe what he was doing, but I would not turn round, as I did not wish to make him think that I suspected him. I, however, moved my head gradually on one side to enable me to watch his proceedings. He soon came in front again, and, to my terror, took from the waggon the hatchet which every driver carries with him, and again retired behind. I now thought nothing less than that he had evil intentions, but I could not fly from him, and dare not, of course, evince any fear. I very gently and unobserved drew my mantle towards me, rolled it together, so that I might, at least, protect my head with it, in case he made a blow at me with the hatchet.

He kept me for some time in this painful state of suspense, then seated himself on his place and stared at me, got down again, and repeated the same proceedings several times. It was not until after a long hour that he laid the hatchet on one side, remained sitting on the waggon, and contented himself with gaping vacantly at me every now and then. At the end of a second hour we reached the station where my servant was, and I did not allow him to leave my side again.

The villages through which we passed today were of the most wretched description; the walls of the huts were constructed of rushes, or reeds, covered with palm leaves; some had no front wall.

These villages are chiefly inhabited by Mahrattas, a race which were, at one period, rather powerful in India, and indeed in the whole peninsula. They were, however, expelled from Hindostan by the Mongols, in the eighteenth century, and fled into the mountains which extend from Surata to Goa. During the present century, the majority of these people were compelled to place themselves under the protection of the English. The only Mahratta prince who still maintains, in any degree, his independence, is the Scindiah; the others receive pensions.

The Mahrattas are adherent to the religion of Brahma. They are powerfully built; the colour of their skin varies from dirty black to clear brown; their features are repulsive and ill-formed. They are inured to all manner of hardships, live chiefly upon rice and water, and their disposition is represented as being morose, revengeful, and savage. They excite themselves to fighting by means of opium, or Indian hemp, which they smoke like tobacco.

In the afternoon, I reached the little town of Pannwell. Travellers embark, towards the evening, in boats, and proceed down the river Pannwell to the sea, reaching Bombay about morning.

I had safely completed the long and tedious journey from Delhi to Pannwell in seven weeks. For having accomplished it I was especially indebted to the English officials, who afforded me both advice and assistance; their humanity, their cordial friendliness I shall ever remember. I again offer them my most sincere and warmest thanks; and the greatest compliment which I can pay them is the wish that my own countrymen, the Austrian consuls and ambassadors, resembled them!

At Bombay I stayed at the country-house of the Hamburgh consul, Herr Wattenbach, intending only to draw upon his hospitality for a few days, and to leave as soon as possible, in order to take advantage of the monsoon {225} in my passage through the Arabian and Persian seas. Days, however, grew into weeks, for the favourable time was already past, and the opportunity of meeting with ship conveyance was there very rare.

Herr Wattenbach made my stay in Bombay very agreeable; he showed me everything worth seeing, and accompanied me in excursions to Elephanta and Salsette.

Bombay lies on a small but remarkably pretty island, which is separated from the mainland by a very narrow arm of the sea; its extent is about five square miles, and it is inhabited by 250,000 souls. Bombay is the principal town of Western India, and as its harbour is the best and safest on the whole west coast, it is the chief seat of commerce for the produce and manufactures of India, the Malay country, Persia, Arabia, and Abyssinia. In a commercial respect, it stands only second to Calcutta. In Bombay, every language of the civilized world is to be heard, and the costumes and habits of every nation are to be seen. The finest view of the whole island and town of Bombay, as well as the neighbouring islands of Salsette, Elephanta, Kolabeh, Caranjah, and the mainland, is to be had from the Malabar point. The country, at some distance from the town, consists chiefly of low hills, which are covered with beautiful woods of cocoa-nut and date-trees; in the plain surrounding the town there are also many such groves divided into gardens by walls. The natives are very fond of building their dwellings under the dark shadows of these trees; while, on the contrary, the Europeans seek for as much light and air as possible. The country-houses of the latter are handsome and convenient, but not to be compared with those of Calcutta, either in size or magnificence. The town lies on a level, along the sea-shore.

The active life of the rich inland and European commercial population must be sought for in the fortified parts of the town, which constitute a large quadrangle. Here is to be found merchandise from all parts of the world. The streets are handsome, the large square called The Green especially so. The buildings most remarkable for their architectural beauty are the Town-hall, whose saloon has no equal, the English Church, the Governor's Palace, and the Mint.

The Open Town and the Black Town {226} adjoin the fortified portions, and are considerably larger. In the Open Town, the streets are very regular and broad, more so than any other Indian city that I saw; they are also carefully watered. I observed many houses decorated with artistically-carved wooden pillars, capitals, and galleries. The bazaar is an object of great interest; not, as many travellers affirm, on account of the richness of the merchandise, of which there is not more to be seen than in other bazaars - in fact, there is not even any of the beautiful wood mosaic work of which Bombay produces the finest - but from the diversity of people, which is greater here than anywhere else. Three parts, indeed, are Hindoos, and the fourth Mahomedans, Persians, Fire- worshippers, Mahrattas, Jews, Arabs, Bedouins, Negroes, descendants of Portuguese, several hundred Europeans, and even some Chinese and Hottentots. It requires a long time to be able to distinguish the people of the different nations by their dress and the formation of their faces.

The most wealthy among people owning property here are the Fire-worshippers, called also Gebers, or Parsees. They were expelled from Persia about 1,200 years since, and settled down along the west coast of India. As they are remarkably industrious and hard- working, very well disposed and benevolent, there are no poor, no beggars to be found among them - all appear to be prosperous. The handsome houses in which the Europeans reside mostly belong to them; they are the largest owners of land, ride out in the most beautiful carriages, and are surrounded by innumerable servants. One of the richest of them - Jamsetize-Jeejeebhoy - built, at his own expense, a handsome hospital in the Gothic style, and provides European medical men and receives the sick of every religious denomination. He was knighted by the English government, and is certainly the first Hindoo who could congratulate himself on such a distinction.

While speaking of the Fire-worshippers, I will relate all that I myself saw of them, as well as what I learnt from Manuckjee- Cursetjee, one of the most cultivated and distinguished among them.

The Fire-worshippers believe in one Supreme Being. They pay the greatest reverence to the four elements, and especially to the element of fire, and to the sun, because they look upon them as emblems of the Supreme Being. Every morning they watch for the rising sun, and hasten out of their houses, and even outside of the town, to greet it immediately with prayers. Besides the elements, the cow is considered sacred by them.

Soon after my arrival, I went one morning upon the esplanade of the town for the purpose of seeing the great number of Parsees {227} who, as I had read, assembled themselves there waiting for the first rays of the sun, on the appearance of which, as if at a given signal, they throw themselves on the ground, and raise a loud cry of joy. I, however, merely saw several Parsees, not in groups, but standing separately here and there, reading silently from a book, or murmuring a prayer to themselves. These did not even come at the same time, for many arrived as late as 9 o'clock.

It was precisely the same with the corpses which are stated to be exposed upon the roofs for the birds of prey to feed upon. I saw not a single one. In Calcutta, Mr. V - -, who had but recently come from Bombay, assured me that he had himself seen many. I cannot believe that the English government would permit such a barbarous proceeding, and one so prejudicial to health. But I must resume my narrative. My first question, after I had been introduced to Manuckjee, was as to the manner in which the Parsees bury their dead. He conducted me to a hill outside the town, and pointed out a wall, four-and-twenty feet high, enclosing a round space of about sixty feet in diameter. He told me that within this wall there was a bier, with three partitions, built up, and near to it a large pit excavated. The bodies of the deceased are placed upon the bier, the men on the first, the women on the second, and children on the third compartment, and are fastened down with iron bands; and, according to the commands of their religion, are left exposed to the action of the element of air. The birds of prey, which always gather in large swarms round such places, fall upon the bodies ravenously, and in a few minutes devour the flesh and skin; the bones are gathered up and thrown into the cave. When this becomes full, the place is abandoned and another erected.

Many wealthy people have private burial-places, over which they have fine wire gauze stretched, so that the deceased members of their family may not be stripped of their flesh by birds of prey.

No one is allowed to enter the burial-ground except the priests, who carry the bodies; even the door is rapidly closed, for only one glance into it would be a sin. The priests, or rather bearers, are considered so impure that they are excluded from all other society, and form a separate caste. Whoever has the misfortune to brush against one of these men, must instantly throw off his clothes and bathe.

The Parsees are not less exclusive with respect to their temples; no one of any other belief is allowed to enter them, or even to look in. The temples which I saw here, of course only from the outside, are very small, extremely plain, and destitute of the slightest peculiarity of architecture; the round entrance-hall surrounds a kind of fore-court, enclosed by a wall. I was only allowed to go as far as the entrance of the wall leading to the fore-court. The handsomest temple in Bombay {228} is a small unimportant building, and I must again contradict those descriptions which make so much of the beautiful temples of the Fire-worshippers.

As I was informed by Manuckjee, the fire burns in a kind of iron vase, in a completely empty, unornamented temple or apartment. The Parsees affirm that the fire which burns in the principal temple, and at which all the others are lighted, originates from the fire which their prophet, Zoroaster, lighted in Persia 4,000 years since. When they were driven out of Persia they took it with them. This fire is not fed with ordinary wood alone; more costly kinds, such as sandal, rose-wood, and such like, are mixed with it.

The priests are called magi, and in each temple there is a considerable number of them. They are distinguished, as regards their dress, from the other Parsees, only by a white turban. They are allowed to marry.

The women visit the temple generally at different hours from the men. They are not forbidden to go there at the same time as the latter; but they never do so, and, indeed, very seldom go at all. A pious Parsee is supposed to pray daily four times, and each time for an hour; for this purpose, however, it is not necessary that he should go to the temple; he fixes his eyes upon fire, earth, or water, or stares into the open air. Whoever finds four hours of prayer daily too much, ingratiates himself with the priests, who are humane and considerate, like the priests of other religions, and willingly release applicants from their cares for the consideration of a moderate gift.

The Parsees prefer offering up their prayers in the morning in the presence of the sun, which they honour the most, as the greatest and most sacred fire. The worship of fire is carried to such an extent by them that they do not pursue any trades which require the use of fire, neither will they fire a gun, or extinguish a light. They let their kitchen-fires burn out. Many travellers even affirm that they will not assist in extinguishing a conflagration; but this is not the case. I was assured that on such an occasion, some years since, many Parsees had been seen giving their help to put the fire out.

Manuckjee was so obliging as to invite me to his house, that I might become acquainted in some degree with the mode of life of Parsee families; he also conducted me to the houses of several of his friends.

I found the rooms furnished in the European manner, with chairs, tables, sofas, ottomans, pictures, mirrors, etc. The dress of the women was little different from that of the more wealthy Hindoos; it was more decorous, as it was not made of transparent muslin, but of silk; and they had, moreover, trousers. The silk was richly embroidered with gold, which luxury is extended to three-year old children. The younger ones, and even the newly-born infants, are wrapped in plain silk stuff. The children wore little caps, worked with gold and silver. The Parsee women consider gold ornaments, pearl and precious stones as necessary a part of their dress as the Hindoos; even in the house they wear a great quantity, but when visiting, or on the occasion of any festival, the jewellery of a wealthy Parsee woman is said to exceed in value 100,000 rupees (10,000 pounds). Children of only seven or eight months old, wear finger-rings and bracelets of precious stones or pearls.

The dress of the men consists of wide trousers and long kaftans. The shirts and trousers are chiefly made of white silk, the jacket of white muslin. The turban differs greatly from that of the Mahomedans; it is a cap of pasteboard, covered with coloured stuff or waxed cloth, ten or twelve inches high.

Both men and women wear round their waists, over the shirt, a girdle passing twice round, which they take off during prayers and hold in their hands; with this exception, they are never seen without it. The law is so strict with regard to the point, that whoever does not wear the girdle is driven out of society. No agreement or contract is valid if the girdle is not worn when it is made. The children begin to wear it when they reach their ninth year. Before this ceremony, they do not belong to the community; they may even eat of food prepared by Christians, and the girls can accompany their fathers in a public place. The girdle changes all; the son eats at his father's table, the girls remain at home, etc.

A second religious ordinance relates to the shirt; this must be cut of a certain length and breadth, and consist of nine seams, which are folded over each other on the breast in a peculiar manner.

A Parsee is allowed to have only one wife. If the wife has no children, or only girls, during a period of nine years, he can, if she consents, be divorced from her, and marry another; he must, however, still provide for her. She can also marry again. According to the religious belief of the Parsee, he is certain to enjoy perfect happiness in a future state of existence if he has a wife and a son in this life.

The Parsees are not divided into castes. In the course of time the Parsees have acquired many of the customs of the Hindoos. For example, the women are not allowed to show themselves in public places; in the house they are separated from the men, take their meals alone, and are, upon the whole, considered more as mere property. The girls are promised when children, and betrothed to the man when in their fourteenth year; if, however, the bridegroom dies, the parents can seek for another. It is considered by the Parsees to be a disgrace if the father does not find a husband for his daughter.

The Parsee women, however, enjoy far more freedom in their houses than the unfortunate Hindoos: they are allowed to sit even at the front windows, and sometimes be present when their husbands receive visits from their male friends, and on both occasions without being veiled.

The Parsees may be easily distinguished from all other Asiatic people by their features, and especially by the lighter colour of their skin. Their features are rather regular, but somewhat sharp, and the cheekbones are broad. I did not think them so handsome as the Mahomedans and Hindoos.

Manuckjee is a great exception to his country people. He is, perhaps, the first who has visited Paris, London, and a considerable part of Italy. He was so well pleased with European manners and customs, that on his return he endeavoured to introduce several reforms among the people of his sect. Unfortunately, he was unsuccessful. He was decried as a man who did not know what he would be doing, and many withdrew from him their friendship and respect in consequence.

He allows his family to go about the house with freedom; but even there he cannot depart much from established custom, as he does not wish to separate entirely from his sect. His daughters are educated in the European method; the eldest plays a little on the piano, embroiders, and sews. She wrote a small paragraph in English in my album very well. Her father did not engage her as a child, but wished that her own inclinations might correspond with his selection of a husband. I was told that she would probably not meet with one, because she is educated too much in the European style; she is already fourteen years of age, and her father has not yet provided her with a bridegroom.

When I first visited this house, the mother and daughters were seated in a drawing-room, engaged with needlework. I remained during their meal-time, a liberty which an orthodox Parsee would not have afforded to me; I was not, however, allowed to join them at table. It was first laid for me, and I ate alone. Several dishes were placed before me, which, with slight deviations, were prepared in the European manner. Everyone, with the exception of the master of the house, watched with surprise the way in which I used a knife and fork; even the servants stared at this, to them, singular spectacle. When I had sufficiently appeased my appetite in this public manner, the table was as carefully brushed as if I had been infected with the plague. Flat cakes of bread were then brought and laid upon the uncovered table, instead of plates, and six or seven of the same dishes which had been served to me. The members of the family each washed their hands and faces, and the father said a short grace. All except the youngest child, who was only six years of age, sat at the table, and reached with their right hands into the different dishes. They tore the flesh from the bones, separated the fish into pieces, and then dipped the pieces into the various soups and sauces, and threw them with such dexterity into the mouth, that they did not touch their lips with their fingers. Whoever accidentally does, must immediately get up and wash his hand again, or else place before him the dish into which he has put his unwashed hand, and not touch any other one. The left hand is not used during the whole meal time.

This mode of eating appears, indeed, very uninviting; but it is, in fact, not at all so; the hand is washed, and does not touch anything but the food. It is the same in drinking; the vessel is not put to the lips, but the liquid is very cleverly poured into the open mouth. Before the children have acquired this dexterity in eating and drinking, they are not permitted, even when they wear the girdle, to come to the table of the adults.

The most common drink in Bombay is called sud or toddy, a kind of light spirituous beverage which is made from the cocoa and date- palm. The taxes upon these trees are very high; the latter are, as in Egypt, numbered and separately assessed. A tree which is only cultivated for fruit, pays from a quarter to half a rupee (6d. to 1s.); those from which toddy is extracted, from three-quarters to one rupee each. The people here do not climb the palm-trees by means of rope-ladders, but they cut notches in the tree, in which they set their feet.

During my stay here, an old Hindoo woman died near to Herr Wattenbach's house, which circumstance gave me an opportunity of witnessing an Indian funeral. As soon as she began to show signs of death, the women about her every now and then set up a horrible howling, which they continued at short intervals after her decease. Presently, small processions of six or eight women approached, who also commenced howling as soon as they discovered the house of the mourners. These women all entered the house. The men, of whom there were a great number present, seated themselves quietly in front of it. At the expiration of some hours, the dead body was enveloped in a white shroud, laid upon an open bier, and carried by the men to the place where it was to be burnt. One of them carried a vessel with charcoal and a piece of lighted wood, for the purpose of igniting the wood with the fire of the house.

The women remained behind, and collected in front of the house in a small circle, in the middle of which was placed a woman who was hired to assist in the lamentations. She commenced a wailing song of several stanzas, at the end of each of which the whole joined in chorus; they kept time also by beating their breasts with the right hand and bowing their heads to the ground. They executed this movement as quickly and regularly as if they had been dolls worked by a wire.

After this had been carried on for a quarter of an hour, there was a short pause, during which the women struck their breasts with both their fists so violently, that the blows could be heard at some considerable distance. After each blow, they stretched their hands up high and bowed their heads very low, all with great regularity and rapidity. This proceeding seemed even more comical than the first. After much exertion, they seated themselves round in a ring, drank toddy, and smoked tobacco.

On the following morning, both men and women repeated their visit. The former, however, did not enter the house; they lit a fire and prepared a plain meal. As often as a party of women came, one of the men went to the house-door and announced them, upon which the principal mourner came out of the house to receive them. She threw herself with such violence on the ground before them, that I thought she would not be able to rise up again; the women struck themselves with their fists once on their breasts, and then drew their hands to their heads. The widow raised herself in the meantime, threw herself impetuously round the necks of each of the women, throwing, at the same time, her head-dress over the head of her consoler, and both endeavoured to out-do each other in howling. All these evolutions were very rapidly performed; a dozen embraces were gone through in a moment. After the reception, they went into the house and continued howling at intervals. It was not until sun-set that all was still, and a supper concluded the whole affair. The women ate in the house - the men in the open air.

Funerals and marriages always cost the Hindoos a great deal. The one here described was that of a woman of the poorer class. Nevertheless, it is considered essential that there should be no want of toddy during two days, or of provisions for meals, at which there are an abundance of guests. In addition to this, there is the wood, which also costs a considerable sum, even when it is only common wood. The rich, who use on such occasions the most costly wood, frequently pay more than a thousand rupees (100 pounds).

I once met the funeral procession of a Hindoo child. It lay upon a cushion, covered with a white sheet, and was strewed with fresh and beautiful flowers. A man carried it on both his arms as gently and carefully as if it was sleeping. In this instance, also, there were only men present.

The Hindoos have no particular festival-day in the week, but festivals at certain times, which last for some days. I was present at one of these during my stay, Warusche-Parupu, the New-Year's festival, which took place on the 11th of April. It was a kind of fast-night celebration. The principal amusement consisted in throwing yellow, brown, and red colours over each other, and painting themselves with the same on their cheeks and foreheads. The noisy tam-tam, or a couple of violins, headed the procession, and greater or less followed, who, laughing and singing, danced from house to house, or from one place to another. Several, indeed, on this occasion, found the toddy rather too exciting, but not so much as to lose their consciousness or to exceed the bounds of decorum. The women do not take part in these public processions; but, in the evening, both sexes assemble in the houses, where the festivities are said not to be carried on in the most decorous manner.

Martyrs' festivals are no longer celebrated with full splendour. I did not see any; their time is past. I was, however, so fortunate as to see a martyr, to whom great numbers of people flocked. This holy man had, for three-and-twenty years, held one of his arms raised up with the hand turned back so far that a flower-pot could stand upon it. The three-and-twenty years were passed, and the flower-pot was removed; but neither hand nor arm were to be brought into any other position, for the muscles had contracted, the arm was quite withered, and presented a most repulsive appearance.

The Island of Elephanta is about six or eight miles distant from Bombay. Herr Wattenbach was so kind as to take me there one day. I saw some rather high mountains, which, however, we did not ascend; we visited only the temples, which are very near to the landing- place.

The principal temple resembles the larger viharas at Adjunta, with the single exception, that it is separated on both sides from the solid rock, and is connected with it only above, below, and at the back. In the sanctuary stands a gigantic three-headed bust. Some believe that it represents the Hindoo Trinity; one of the heads is full-faced, the two others in profile, one right, the other left. The bust, including the head-dress, measures certainly as much as eight feet. On the walls and in the niches, there are a number of giant statues and figures; in fact, whole scenes of the Hindoo mythology. The female figures are remarkable; they all have the left hip turned out, the right turned inwards. The temple appears to be devoted to the god Shiva.

In the neighbourhood of the large temple stands a smaller one, whose walls are also covered with deities. Both temples were much injured by the Portuguese, who, when they conquered the island, in their noble religious zeal planted cannon before them, in order to destroy the shocking Pagan temples; in which attempt they succeeded much better than in the conversion of the Pagans. Several columns are quite in ruins; nearly all are more or less damaged, and the ground is covered with fragments. None of either the gods or their attendants escaped uninjured.

There is a most enchanting view across the sea of the extensive town, and the delightful hills surrounding it, from the facade of the large temple. We passed a whole day here very agreeably. During the hot hours of noon, we amused ourselves by reading in the cool shadows of the temple. Herr Wattenbach had sent on several servants previously; among others, the cook, together with tables, chairs, provisions, books, and newspapers. In my opinion, this was rather superfluous; but what would my countrywomen have said could they have seen the English family which we accidentally met with here; they carried several couches, easy chairs, enormous foot- stools, a tent, etc., with them. That is what I call a simple country party!

Salsetta (also called Tiger Island) is united to Bombay by means of a short artificial dam. The distance from the fort to the village, behind which the temples are situated, is eighteen miles, which we travelled, with relays of horses, in three hours. The roads were excellent, the carriage rolled along as if on a floor.

The natural beauty of this island far exceeds that of Bombay. Not mere rows of hills, but magnificent mountain chains here raise their heads, covered even to their summits with thick woods, from which bare cliffs here and there project; the valleys are planted with rich fields of corn, and slender green palms.

The island does not appear to be densely populated. I saw only a few villages and a single small town inhabited by Mahrattas, whose appearance is as needy and dirty as those near Kundalla.

From the village where we left the carriage we had still three miles to go to the temples.

The principal temple alone is in the style of a chaitza; but it is surrounded by an uncommonly high porch, at both extremities of which idols one-and-twenty feet high stand in niches. Adjoining to the right is a second temple, which contains several priests' cells, allegorical figures of deities, and reliefs. Besides these two, there are innumerable other smaller ones in the rocks, which extend on both sides from the principal temple; I was told there were more than a hundred. They are all viharas with the exception of the principal temple; the greater number, however, are scarcely larger than ordinary small chambers, and are destitute of any peculiarity.

The rock temples of Elephanta and Salsetta rank, in respect to magnitude, grandeur, and art, far below those of Adjunta and Elora, and are of interest only to those who have not seen the latter.

It is said that the temples at Salsetta are not much visited, because there is considerable danger attending it; the country is represented to be full of tigers, and so many wild bees are said to swarm round the temples that it is impossible to enter them; and moreover the robbers, which are known by the name of bheels, live all round here. We fortunately met with none of these misfortunes. Later, indeed, I wandered about here alone. I was not satisfied with a single sight, and left my friends privately while they were taking their noon rest, and clambered from rock to rock as far as the most remote temple. In one I found the skin and horns of a goat that had been devoured, which sight somewhat frightened me; but trusting to the unsociability of the tiger, who will rather fly from a man in broad day than seek him out, I continued my ramble. We had, as I have said, no danger to resist; it was different with two gentlemen who, some days later, nearly fell victims, not indeed to wild beasts, but to wild bees. One of them knocked upon an opening in the side of the rock, when an immense swarm of bees rushed out upon them, and it was only by the greatest exertion that they escaped, miserably stung on the head, face, and hands. This occurrence was published in the newspapers as a warning for others.

The climate of Bombay is healthier than that of Calcutta; even the heat is more tolerable on account of the continual sea-breezes, although Bombay lies five degrees further south. The mosquitoes here, as in all hot countries, are very tormenting. A centipede slipped into my bed one evening, but I fortunately discovered it in time.

I had already decided upon taking my passage in an Arabian boat, which was to leave for Bassora on the 2nd of April, when Herr Wattenbach brought the news that on the 10th a small steamer would make its first voyage to Bassora. This afforded me great pleasure - I did not suspect that it would happen with a steamer as with a sailing vessel, whose departure is postponed from day to day; nevertheless, we did not leave the harbour of Bombay until the 23rd of April.