daughter; their baggage has just been removed from the back of that weak and hungry-looking ox. It is about ten o'clock, and a meal has been prepared by the mother and daughter. The husband and father having pulled off his turban and upper garments, till his body is bared to the waist, he eats his solitary breakfast: neither wife nor daughter is allowed to partake with him. As soon as he has finished his repast, his daughter brings the ox's saddle, on which he lays himself down to sleep. The mother and daughter are then at liberty to take the portion which has been left for them: nor are they discontented; it is the universal custom of their people, and they have known no other. It was not, however, their lot to find rest when their scanty meal was finished. Though just come off a journey, they are busily employed in preparing the ingredients for the afternoon supply: firewood has first to be gathered. The fire-places are of simple, or rather rude preparation; two oblong holes in the ground containing the lighted wood, over which the cooking vessels are placed. The whole stock of culinary utensils consists of four earthen pots or chatties, and a brass pot. This last is an important part of the Hindoo's kitchen apparatus: it is used for drawing water and drinking from: as brass is almost the only material which can be used without violating their superstitious usages, since it admits of being cleansed, even although it has been touched by the impure saliva! Plates and dishes find a substitute, in the Hindoo kitchen, in the leaf of the

Indian fig-tree. This leaf is of a thick and glutinous quality, and when dry and pinned together with bits of straw or thorns, it forms a substantial plate, off which I have myself taken my food. The turmeric, the tamarind, the cocoa-nut, the garlic, and red pepper, with other condiments, compose the mixture provided by these females for the dinner of their sleeping lord; and now they one or the other lie down to indulge the almost universal custom, and take their forenoon sleep. When the sun has gone down from his meridian, they will rise and make preparation for resuming their journey. I shall start at the same time for Bal-Chitty's choultrie, and try to take a few hours sleep there.

But, alas! the comforts to be here enjoyed are few. It is a small-sized granite choultrie, near to which is a tank surrounded with stone, with a few huts on both sides of the road, which, added to the two or three small shops, opposite the choultrie, compose the native village. Before the setting of the sun, if we take an evening walk about half a mile to the left, we shall find a rather pretty and rural village. Two grassy lanes, crossing at right angles, the one with the other, lead to the dwellings of the villagers; like most well-conditioned Hindoo hamlets, a grove of trees and a tank of water are placed side by side at the entrance. A few native travellers have halted for the night; some are performing their ablutions in the tank; others having cooked and taken their food, are preparing for their rest under the shelter of the tope. On each

side of the lanes there are rows of clay-built houses, some of them flat-roofed, and others roofed with tiles; a few are of more rude construction, with bamboo supporters, walled with matting or basketwork, and thatched with leaves of the palmyra or cocoa-nut tree. A few cocoa-nut trees are growing as an avenue before the better houses; and, in front, under a narrow verandah, seats of hardened clay have been raised two or three feet from the ground. The walls, inside and out, are painted or washed with a white and red daub, which has been laid on in alternate longitudinal stripes. It is a Brahmin village, or an Agraharan; except, therefore, a very few, every dwelling is sacred. The seat and the ground near the door of each have been marked with stripes of the ashes of cowdung, on which no man of lower caste dares to tread. These lines are fresh laid every morning. It is one of the first offices for a female of the family, at the break of day, to come forth with the cow-dung and water, and holding in her hand some incense, or a few sacred flowers, while she repeats a formula of prayer, to draw out these lines. The nearest tree enjoys the same marks of distinction. court for their cattle, either in a central square or close behind, with a mud-wall enclosure, is attached to such houses. At the top of one of the lanes stands a stone choultrie, designed only for religious ceremonies, and containing a large wooden elephant, painted white and ornamentally gilded. Several pillars have been raised in front of the

A building, which support a matted ceiling, by which a portico lined with cotton cloth has been formed. There is besides a pagoda of larger dimensions than such a village would seem to require: it is dedicated to Vishnoo, the sect to which the Brahmins belong, and is surrounded by rice fields and gardens, with high hedges of bamboo and tamarind trees. The idol thus worshipped is provided with a vahanum, or conveyance, in the form of a red kite, upon which Vishnoo is brought forth at stated times from the sanctuary, and carried round the pagoda in procession, ornamented with silks and streamers. They have also a ruth, or car, on which the more distant excursions of the idol are taken, when the deluded devotees yoke themselves as cattle, and drag behind them with blind adoration their insensate log.

Returning again to Bal-Chitty's choultrie from this rural scene, we come to a common appendage of most villages-the lofty wide-spreading tree, round whose huge trunk is raised the broad bed, or seat of hardened clay. Here, at the burning hour of noon, the coolie, or porter, deposits his load, the sepoy soldier his knapsack, or the horseman pickets his horse; and here man and beast compose themselves for rest under its shade. The space is wide enough for men of every caste, or any creed, to enjoy the shelter, and still avoid any collision, or any accidental defilement; yet the overbearing and wealthy man of high caste sometimes dares to usurp the sole and undisputed occupation, not suffering the sudra or pariah to come between the wind and his nobility-a dream of possession, however, from which he very soon awakes on the approach of a Moslem trooper, with his glittering scimitar, and his convenient horse-cloth. Here, or in the neighbouring tope, you will, between the hour of noon and sunset, see the supercilious and unshaven Mohammedan, sitting cross-legged on his horse-gear, smoking his hookah, and watching his ghore-wala, or horse-keeper, shampooing or cleaning the wearied horse; the Hindoos of the several castes boiling their rice, or mixing their currystuffs, within small circles, cut in the ground: to overstep which, for even the haughtiest European, would defile both their food and themselves, and excite a commotion among the silly Hindoos, which, were it not for their degradation and losses, might awaken the mirth of the most grave. The pariahs, the miserable chandalah, despised and contemned by all, is placed beyond every limit for the castes, while he eats his pitiful morsel of flavourless rice, and ministers to the sustenance of life in its lowest scale of intelligence or enjoyment. Not far off is the pundal, or temporary tabernacle for an idol, built of mud, white-washed, and adorned with clay figures, the work of the potter. In retired spots, some strange-shaped stones, or ancient trees, are visible, for daily pooja, or devotion, having been consecrated by the craft of the Brahmin, daubed with ochre, or decked with flowers, to excite the veneration of the duped and credulous votaries.