that Mr. Burns was on the look out.

"Our houses here are improved as fast as they are built, I guess; I never hear of any as lay long vacant.'

"Possible? and the streets spreading so fast! But I mean in the line of transient people, and foreigners. I know the English contrive it, as far as Niagara, even: they are curious great travellers.'

"I expect so.'

Have you heard lately of any arrivals in that way?'

"I never fellowship greatly with travellers.' "You hav'n't heard of any as conducts rather particular, have you, sir?'

"Are you looking after some, Mr. Burns?' "If I was, you may allot that I would not deputize another to find them out; but you know in my line of slang-wanging, we love to toll about a little news. Somebody told me, as there was some curious rich English folks as had come this road!'

So much the better for the taverns, Mr. Burns, 'specially if there is women with 'em, for their women make no requirement to know the price of a thing,-when they want it, they'll

have it.'

"I expect these folks have a young woman with 'em, so probable you have remarked her, as they say she's mighty sightly.'

"We count it derogatory in a fiducial Christian, to be looking too close after the female kind. For my share, if I make a bestowment of my attention upon strangers, it is more on the man kind, than the female.'

""Twould be great nonsense in you, surely, to watch a trumpery girl hither and yon. But have you marked any European strangers biding

here of late?'

"Are they young or old, those as you have heard about?'

"I guess as they said there was a young

man with them.'

666

Fair complexion had he? and light blue eyes?'

"If my retrospect of what I heard is correct, he is quite the reverse-unless, indeed, he has got a wig.'

"Like enough, flaxen hair is a great disguisement to a swarthy face.'

'No, no, the face isn't swarthy either; clear and pale-without any colour, but no way swarthy.'

"Surely? well I expect if they have travelled through long since..... How long ago was it?'

666

Why, if I don't obliviate what I heard, it might be about six weeks ago.'

"I am partly certain, Mr. Burns, that no two like that, has been seen here by themselves.' "Not altogether so, sir; I expect there was a tall man, as the girl called her father.' "And that makes three. No, nothing of the kind, I am pretty sure.'

666

I reckon they had two men with them, by way of domestics, I expect.'

Well, Mr. Burns, I can make a publishment to my friends, if it will be any obligement

Murray.

ANY one with five shillings in his possession, who happens accidentally to open this volume at the Corinth, by Turner, and the Athens and Island of Egina, by Stanfield, will, we are sure, lay down the money at once, and put the work in his pocket. These landscapes, more particularly the first, are most beautiful things: nor are all the attractions confined to the illustrations; here are many of Byron's brightest things: the Ode to NapoleonLara-the Hebrew Melodies-the Siege of Corinth-Parisina-the Prisoner of Chillon, with various others, and among them, those domestic poems in which he has poured out tears mingled with his blood, as we heard a friend describe them. There are notes throwing light on dark meanings in the text, and others explanatory of the noble poet's feelings during the period of composition;

but what we are sure the world will be most

disposed to look at just now, is the tribute paid to Byron by Scott, which finds a place in the prefatory advertisement.

"We are sometimes,' he says, 'tempted to blame the timidity of those poets, who, possessing powers to arrest the admiration of the public, are yet too much afraid of censure to come frequently forward, and thus defraud themselves of their fame, and the public of the delight which they might afford us. Where success has been unexpectedly, and perhaps undeservedly, obtained by the capricious vote of fashion, it may be well for the adventurer to draw his stake and leave the game, as every succeeding hazard will diminish the chance of his rising a winner. But, they cater ill for the public, and give indifferent advice to the poet,-supposing him possessed of the highest qualities of his art, who do not advise him to labour, while the laurel around his brows yet retains its freshness. Sketches from Lord Byron are more valuable than finished pictures from others; nor are we at all sure, that any labour which he might bestow in revisal, would not rather efface than refine those outlines of striking and powerful originality which they exhibit, when flung rough from the hand of the master. No one would have wished to condemn Michael Angelo to work upon a single block of marble, until he had satisfied, in every point, the petty criticism of that Pope, who, neglecting the sublime and magnificent character and attitude of his Moses,

descended to blame a wrinkle in the fold of the garment.

"Should it be urged that, in thus stimulating genius to unsparing exertion, we encourage carelessness and hurry in the youthful candidates for literary distinction, we answer, it is not the learner to whom our remarks apply; they refer to him only, who, gifted by nature with the higher power of poetry,- an art as difficult as it is enchanting,-has made himself master, by application and study, of the mechanical process, and in whom, we believe, frequent exertions upon new works awaken and stimulate that genius which might be cramped and rendered tame, by long and minute attention to finish to the highest possible degree any one of the number. If we look at our poetical library we shall find, generally speaking, the most distinguished poets have been the most voluminous, and that those who, like Gray, limited their productions to a few poems, anxiously and sedulously corrected and revised, have given them a stiff and artificial character, which, far from disarming criticism, has rather embittered its We here close our extracts for the present. violence, while the Aristarch, like Achilles as

to you, that you are upon the look out for a rich gentleman and his daughter, with two male domestics, and a young man of clear, pale complexion, with black eyes and hair. I can realize your description considerable; but for my own share, I cannot report as I know anything particular about them.'

"The discomfited Mr. Burns turned sulkily from the store; while the triumphant Yankee rubbed his hands, and thanked the Lord that he was not like other men, to let out his secrets in that fashion."

sailing Hector, meditates dealing the mortal wound through some unguarded crevice of the

cautious bard has vainly invested himself.

"Our opinion must be necessarily qualified by the caution, that as no human invention can be infinitely fertile, as even the richest genius may be, in agricultural phrase, cropped out, and rendered sterile, and as each author must necessupposed to excel, and must therefore be more sarily have a particular style in which he is or less a mannerist; no one can with prudence persevere in forcing himself before the public when, from failure in invention, or from having rendered the peculiarities of his style over trite and familiar, the veteran 'lags superfluous on the stage,' a slighted mute in those dramas where he was once the principal personage. To this humiliation vanity frequently exposes genius; and it is no doubt true that a copious power of diction, joined to habitual carelessness in composition, has frequently conduced to it.

"We would therefore be understood to recommend to authors, while a consciousness of

the possession of vigorous powers, carefully cultivated, unites with the favour of the public, to

descend into the arena, and continue their efforts vigorously while their hopes are high, their spirits active, and the public propitious, in order that, on the slightest failure of nerves or breath, they may be able to withdraw themselves honourably from the contest, gracefully giving way to other candidates for fame, and cultivating studies more suitable to a flagging imagination than the fervid art of poetry. This, however, is the affair of the authors themselves: should they neglect this prudential course, the public will, no doubt, have more indifferent books on their table than would otherwise have loaded it; and as the world always seizes the first opportunity of recalling the applause it has bestowed, the former wreaths of the writers will for a time be blighted by their immediate failure. But these evils, so far as the public is concerned, are greatly overbalanced by such as arise from the timid caution which bids genius suppress its efforts till they shall be refined into unattainable perfection: and we cannot but repeat our conviction, that poetry, being, inits higher classes, an art which has for its ele ments sublimity and unaffected beauty, is more liable than any other to suffer from the labour of polishing, or from the elaborate and composite style of ornament, and alternate affectation of simplicity and artifice, which characterise the works, even of the first poets, when they have been over-anxious to secure public applause, by long and reiterated correction. It must be remembered that we speak of the higher tones of

composition; there are others of a subordinate character, where extreme art and labour are not bestowed in vain. But we cannot consider over-anxious correction as likely to be employed with advantage upon poems like those of Lord Byron, which have for their object to rouse the imagination, and awaken the passions."

The editor judiciously adds the various readings which the manuscripts supply profusely, and thus enables us to see the workings of fancy and feeling during the outpouring of the verse. We prefer quoting another passage from the preface—our readers will see the reasons:

"With regard to the first of those Domestic Pieces,-the Fare thee well,'-we have seen, since the sheet containing it was sent to the press, the original draught of it; and, had it fallen under our notice sooner, we should have presented the reader with a fac-simile. The appearance of the MS. confirms, and more than confirms, the account of the circumstances under which it was written, given in the Notices of Lord Byron's Life. It is blotted all over with the marks of tears.

"We have also observed, that the motto from

Christabel,' which now stands at the head of 'Fare thee well,' did not appear there until several editions had been printed. Mr. Coleridge's poem was, in fact, first published in June, 1816, and reached Lord Byron after he had crossed the Alps, in September. It was then that he signified his wish to have the extract in question affixed to all future copies of his stanzas; and the reader, who might have doubted Mr. Moore's assertion, that Lord Byron's hopes of an ultimate reconciliation with his Lady survived even the unsuccessful negotiation prompted by the kind interference of Madame de Staël, when he visited her at Copet, will probably now consider the selection and date of this motto, as circumstances strongly corroborative of the biographer's state

ment:

A dreary sea now flows between,

But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder,
Shall wholly do away, I ween,

The marks of that which once hath been!

"The saddest period of Lord Byron's life was also, we see, one of the busiest. His refuge and solace were ever in the practice of his art; and the rapidity with which he continued to pour out verses at this melancholy time, if it tended to prolong some of his personal annoyances, by giving malevolent critics fresh pretences for making his private affairs the subject of public discussion, has certainly been in no respect injurious to his poetical reputation."

A work so richly and so tastefully illustrated, so elegantly arranged, and neatly printed, requires only to be seen to be popular: we do not despair of seeing the poems of Scott rivalling those of Byron in all such beauties as art and taste can bestow.

La Lithuanie et sa dernière Insurrection. Par Michel Pietkiewicz. Bruxelles, Dumont: London, Dulau & Co.

Ar a period when the fate of the heroic Poles has raised a general cry of horror and indignation throughout the civilized world, every thing connected with the late glorious struggle of Poland becomes matter of paramount interest. The grand-duchy of Lithuania, forcibly severed from the kingdom of Poland, by the dismemberment which, to the eternal disgrace of Europe, was suffered to be effected by the partitioning despots during the last century, has ever since remained a Russian province. Nevertheless, the bosom of every Lithuanian glows with the love of Polandwith execration of the power to whose yoke she is forced to bend and with the same patriotic spirit of freedom which inspired the immortal Kosciuszko, himself a Lithuanian, in his noble resistance to Russia when under the guidance of Catherine II.-that female despot, so mild, merciful, and humane, in her written manifestos, but so atrociously cruel in her actions.

When the brutal oppression of Constantine at length goaded the long-suffering Poles to take up arms, the co-operation of their brethren of Lithuania was indispensable to the ultimate success of their cause. The hearts of the latter beat in unison with those of the Polish patriots, and the whole province, ripe for insurrection, wanted only an experienced leader to enable them to burst the bonds of Russian despotism, and once more unite with Poland. General Gielgud, at the head of an army, was intrusted with this mission; and to the selection of such a man is the disastrous failure of the insurrection attributed. Appointed by Napoleon, in 1812, to the command of a regiment about to be raised,

Gielgud owed his military rank to mere seniority; and this expedition to Lithuania was his maiden campaign. Previously to his assuming the Lithuanian command, he had never seen a shot fired. The melancholy fate of his army, their retreat into the Prussian territory, and the death of Gielgud, by the hand of Skulski, a captain in his army, who considered that he had betrayed the Polish cause, are well known.

But Gielgud was no traitor,-at least in the common acceptation of that word. He had not betrayed his country to the enemy: he had only sacrificed the cause with which he was intrusted, through ignorance and selfishness. Gielgud was a man of weak mind, not possessing the most ordinary share of military talent, and utterly destitute of judgment and discretion. In temper he was tyrannical, and, like most men of contracted understandings, doggedly obstinate. In disposition he was mean, grovelling, and sordid; and all his views seemed to centre in the aggrandizement of his own family. The individuals to whom he intrusted power were inefficient, and moreover lukewarm in the cause; but they were his own relatives. Thus all his administrative measures tended to chill the spirit which animated the Lithuanians; and every military operation failed for want of being combined and conducted with professional skill. If the negative quality of physical courage had alone sufficed to make the insurrection successful, Gielgud certainly possessed it in him personal bravery was constitutional. He might perhaps have done good service under an able and experienced commander; but, left to his own guidance, he brought ruin and disgrace upon his cause. Had the mission been confided to an officer of talent, it could not have failed, and Poland | might now have been free.

The fatal catastrophe in which his obstinacy and successive errors terminated, and the retreat of his army into Prussia, proved a death-blow to the insurrection. A few scattered bands still remained; but their efforts no longer gave uneasiness to Russia, and were of no service to the Poles;-they were the last convulsive throes of freedom expiring in the fangs of despotism.

and the son for the father. The children of those who have escaped from the country are sent in chains to Siberia, or drafted into the regiments of Orenbourg, there to expiate in eternal slavery and pain the patriotism of of their fathers.

Mr. Pietkiewicz, the author of the work before us, is by birth a Lithuanian-was an officer in Gielgud's army-and, consequently, an eye-witness of all he records. His account of the insurrection is a plain statement of facts, in a clear and condensed form, and reasonably free from party violence. Not only does it bear the stamp of truth from its plain straightforward course, but every important fact is authenticated by official documents. It is preceded by an interesting sketch of the history of Lithuania; and as the work contains the only connected account extant of the Lithuanian insurrection, it is therefore a valuable and necessary addition to the history of the late Polish revolution.

Lafayette, Louis Philippe, and the Revolution of 1830. By B. Sarrans, jun. Translated from the French. 2 vols. London: Effingham Wilson.

A very good translation, and made by one who seems fully to understand the spirit of the original. Although this book must have been got up in great haste, it contains very few inaccuracies. There is one, however, to which we will call the attention of the translator, should the work come to a second edition. Legitimité does not always mean legitimacy; it sometimes signifies legality, and in this latter sense it should have been used in the last line of page 79. But blemishes like these are trifling, when contrasted with the merits displayed throughout this translation.

An Outline of the Smaller British Birds, intended for the Use of Ladies and Young Persons. By R. Slaney, Esq., M.P. 12mo. Longman & Co. The observers and recorders of facts in Natural History rank among the most valuable contributors to the general stock of knowledge, and many of the remarks in this unpretending little volume are judicious, as pointing out the advantages, as well as the pleasure, to be derived from the study of the various productions of Nature.

To young and inquiring minds, and for such is this Outline intended, each new locality has fresh charms, in proportion to the diversity and beauty of its animated inhabitants. Without aiming at any character beyond that of a fami

liar introduction to the subject of which it treats, this little book contains many original observations; and the author, by judicious selections from the writings of others, has furnished an interesting outline of the history of that portion of our indigenous birds, which may be said more particularly, to live, and move, and have their being around us.

The wood-cuts are a useful addition: and we

could quote from the text with pleasure; but

As Lithuania is considered a Russian province, the Emperor Nicholas does not there affect to cloak his cruelties with apologies and explanations. He is fast making a desert of that fine country to people the wilds of Siberia. He has decreed it a high crime to speak the Polish language, and has superseded the Lithuanian laws by his odious ukases. Although they who bore arms against his authority have sought refuge in foreign lands, there is not a noble family which has not furnished its share of victims to the sanguinary inflictions of imperial revenge. Day after day decrees appear against the patriots, the least of whose punishments is the confiscation of their property and hard labour in Siberia. The A new Dictionary in French and English and dungeons of Vilna are crammed with the English and French; combining the Dictionaries of Boyer and Deletanville. With various most respectable of its citizens. The ordiadditions, corrections, and improvements, by nary courts of justice had once the courage D. Boileau and A.Piquot. London: Rivington. to acquit some of these individuals; but Nicholas allowed them not to escape. He THIS is an excellent edition of Boyer's Dic had them again tried by a court martial, and tionary, which Messrs. Boileau and Piquot have under his express orders, convicted. His improved, as far as the limits of their undertak desire is not to punish guilt, but to find vic-ing will allow. It is of a good size and form for tims to glut his vengeance. The father is schools, and its price moderate. made answerable for the crime of his son,

that the small size of the volume forbids anticipation.

ORIGINAL PAPERS

LADY BLANCHE'S LEAGuer. From a passage in the English Commonwealth Civil War. In the rough days of old, when hands of power Were laid on sword and spear, Lady Blanche was leaguered in her tower, No hope nor rescue near;

For her valiant lord had ridden away,

To meet his foes afar;

And his household troop, in bright array,
Went with him to the war.

Ere he mounted, he called nine servants true-
Nine trusty men-and said,

"The wife that I love I leave with you

Her life be on each head!"

A trumpet was blown before her gate,
A red flag kissed the sky :-
"Now yield, proud lady! nor dare to wait
Until our falcons fly!"

Then her brave men's hearts waxed faint and low;

Their lives they valued light;

But how might they save her from such a foe-
Hundreds to one to fight?

But their noble lady cheered them all,
For her gentle blood rose high:
"Lift my husband's banner above the wall,
And raise his battle-cry!

"For the hand of God is with the brave,
When no man's help is near;
And my husband's house shall be my grave,
Ere Blanche knows wrong or fear!"
Then they roused them all at their lady's word,
And all that winter day,
Quick, and loud-pealing, the guns were heard,
Till towers in ruins lay;

And for nine brave men her walls to keep,
But two were strong and sound;

The rest were sleeping their last long sleep,
Or stiff with many a wound.
Poor Blanche wept sore, when the hand of night
Silenced the cannons' throat,
For well she knew the morrow's light
Must see them cross the moat!
All sadly looked her brave warder out
Through the gray morning cloud,
Till he suddenly raised a merry shout,
And the old walls rang aloud!
"Come forth, dear lady, in joy come forth!
True hearts have won the day;
Thy brother's pennon streams in the north,
And the foes have fled away!"
Liverpool, Feb. 1832.

CONTINUATION OF THE SHELLEY PAPERS.

ARCH OF TITUS.

BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY.

triumphant army, and the magistrates, and priests, and generals, and philosophers, dragged in chains beside his wheels. Behind him, stands a Victory eagle-winged.

The arch is now mouldering into ruins, and the imagery almost erased by the lapse of fifty generations. Beyond this obscure monument of Hebrew desolation, is seen the tomb of the Destroyer's family, now a mountain of ruins.

The Flavian amphitheatre has become a habitation for owls and dragons. The power, of whose possession it was once the type, and of whose departure it is now the emblem, is become a dream and a memory. Rome is no more than Jerusalem.

REFLECTIONS.

Life.

Life, and the world, and whatever we call that which we are, and feel, is an astonishing thing. The mist of familiarity obscures from us the wonder of our being. We are struck with astonishment at some of its transient modifications, but it is itself the great miracle. What are the changes of empires, the wreck of dynasties, with the opinions that supported them what is the birth and extinction of religions, and of political systems, to life?+ What are the revolutions of the globe which we inhabit, and the operations of the elements of which it is composed, compared with life? what is the universe of stars and suns, and their motions, and the destiny of those that inhabit them, compared with life? Life, the great miracle, we admire not because it is so miraculous. If any artist, I do not say had executed, but had merely conceived in his mind, the system of the sun, the stars, and planets, they not existing, and had painted to us in words or upon canvas the spectacle now afforded by the sight of the cope of heaven, and illustrated it by astronomy, what would have been our admiration!-or had imagined the scenery of the earth, the mountains, and the seas, and the rivers, and the grass and the flowers, and the varieties of the forms and the masses of the leaves of the woods, and the colours which attend the rising and the setting sun, and the hues of the atmosphere turbid or serene, truly we should have been wonder-struck, and should have

said, what it would have been a vain boast to have said, Truly, this creator deserves the name of a God. But now, these things are looked upon with little wonder; and who views them with delight, is considered an enthusiast or an extraordinary person.

The multitude care little for them. It is

thus with life, that includes all. What is life? Thoughts and feelings arise with or without our will, and we employ words to express them.

We are born, and our birth is unrememfragments. We live, and in living we lose bered, and our infancy remembered but in the apprehension of life.

Death.

By the word death, we express that condition in which natures resembling ourselves apparently cease to be what they were. We no longer hear them speak, nor see them move. If they have sensations or apprehen

It is singular, that Napoleon at St. Helena, in Las Cases' Memoirs, should have been led into a similar reflexion. "Qu'est-ce que la vie? Quand et comment la recevons-nous? Tout cela est-il autre chose encore que

sions, we no longer participate in them. We know no more, than that those internal organs, and all that fine texture of material frame, without which we have no experience that life or thought can subsist, are dissolved and scattered abroad.

The body is placed under the ground, and after a certain period there remains no vestige even of its form. This is that contemplation of inexhaustible melancholy, whose shadow eclipses the brightness of the world. The commonest observer is struck with dejection at the spectacle, and contends in vain against the persuasion of the grave, that the dead indeed cease to be.

The corpse at his feet is prophetic of his own destiny. Those who have perceived him, whose voice was delightful to his ear, whose touch met, and thrilled, and vibrated to his like sweet and subtle fire, whose aspect spread a visionary light upon his path, these he cannot meet again. The organs of sense are destroyed, and the intellectual operations dependent on them, have perished in their sources. How can a corpse see and feel? What intercourse can there be in two heaps of putrid clay and crumbling bones piled together.

Such are the anxious and fearful contemplations, that, in spite of religion, we are sometimes forced to confess to ourselves. Love.

The mind selects among those who most resemble it, that which is most its archetype, and instinctively fills up the interstices of the imperfect image, in the same manner as the imagination moulds and completes the shapes in the clouds, or in the fire, into a resemblance of

whatever form, animal, building, &c. happens to be present to it.

Man is in his wildest state a social animal -a certain degree of civilization and refinement ever produces the want of sympathies still more intimate and complete, and the gratification of the senses is no longer all that is desired. It soon becomes a very small part of that profound and complicated sentiuniversal thirst for a communion not merely ment which we call love, which is rather the of the senses, but of our whole nature, intellectual, imaginative, and sensitive, and which, when individualized, becomes an imperious necessity, only to be satisfied by the complete, or partial, or supposed fulfilment of its claims. This want grows more powerful in proportion to the developement which our nature receives from civilization; for man never ceases to be a social being.

SCENES IN HINDOOSTAN.

A Walk through Benares. NOTHING more fantastically picturesque can be imagined than the appearance of Benares from the Ganges; and it is difficult to convey an idea of the barbaric splendour of some of the buildings, and the grotesqueness of the landscape. The ghauts, or landing places, which occur at short distances from each other, are, generally speaking, very handsome, though not so regular as many that I have seen. They form a peculiar feature in Indian scenery, and are very superb and appropriate embellishments of the bright river and widespreading tank. They are broad flights of steps, constructed either of granite or chunam -the latter being a composition of lime,

which takes a high polish-decorated on either side with rich balustrading, and surmounted by temples and trees. These ghauts always present a lively scene, and are constantly crowded, even during the hottest hours of the day, by groups of men, women, and children, either praying, performing their ablutions, or filling their ghurrahs from the holy stream. Amidst a confused mass of buildings of every shape, the lofty, square, flat-roofed, citadel-looking palace-the dome of the Moosulman mosque-the pointed cupola of the ancient Hindoo temple, resembling a huge mitre-tower, turret, arched gateway, verandah, gallery, and projecting oriel window,-arise the far-famed minarets. Their slender spires shoot up into the skies, and present a proud monument of the conquests of Aurungzebe, who raised them upon the ruins of a pagoda of peculiar sanctity. Their lightness and elegance contrast finely with the massy range of the temples and houses below; and the whole aspect of the city is agreeably diversified with lofty trees and flowering shrubs, which hang their rich garlands over the sculptured walls.

On the morning appointed for our visit to the city, I rose long before daylight, and the party drove to the grand square or Chokey, through extensive suburbs, which, amongst other objects of interest, contained some very handsome Moosulmanee tombs of modern erection. The natives of India are not early risers; and although by the time we reached the city, it was nearly broad day, very few living objects were to be seen. The windows were closely shuttered up, the doors barred, and the streets empty. My thoughts immediately recurred to the city of the Magi, where all the worshippers of Nardoun were turned into stone. A tonjon, which is an open chair, carried on men's shoulders, had been sent forward for my accommodation; but I made little use of it in my eagerness to penetrate alleys where it could scarcely pass; and, preceded by our chuprassies and chobedars, carrying sheathed scimitars and silver maces, I accompanied the gentlemen of the party on foot. We proceeded through narrow streets lined with lofty houses, all of stone, and built in a florid style of architecture; in one or two places they were united by a covered passage springing over the roofs, somewhat resembling the Bridge of Sighs.

As yet, our fellow pedestrians consisted chiefly of Brahminee bulls, but we found the priests busy in the pagodas, scattering flowers over the shrines, and pouring water upon the images of their numerous deities. Some of these idols were beautifully carved in black marble. I disregarded wetting my feet in the profuse oblations of the holy stream of the Ganges showered over the pavement, and literally elbowed my way through the crowd of devotees, who, as the morning advanced, thronged the courts of these small temples, to most of which, I believe, I was indebted for admission to one of my companions, who is at the head of the Hindoo College, and highly respected by the natives, not only for his learning, but for his amiable character and popular manners. I had never mixed on foot in a native crowd before, and was very glad that I had provided myself with a veil, being rather ashamed of appearing amongst the groups of reputable and disreputable persons assembled around me, in

open violation of their ideas of female propriety. After having satisfied my curiosity, and admired the bright profusion of flowers, which were thickly strewed over the interior, and offered for sale at the doors of the temples, I was glad to escape from the hurry and confusion which gathered on all sides the throngs of Fakeers-the incessant cries of "Ram! Ram!" the common invocation and salutation of the Hindoos-and the repetition of passages from the Vedas, uttered in loud tones by the most pious of the Brahmins. Our next visit was to the Observatory, an ancient relique of oriental science. It was founded before the Moosulman Conquest. From a series of small quadrangles with cloisters all round, we ascended by broad flights of stairs to the summit of a square tower. Hence the view over the broad and sparkling river was very fine; and, after enjoying it for a little time, we descended to the water's edge, and went on board a boat in waiting for us, which dropped down to a ghaut close to the minarets. On arriving at the landing-place, I perceived a part of the river, enclosed with connaughts, screens of white canvas with scarlet borders; and was told, that when ladies of rank came to bathe, it was customary to provide them with a secure retreat from the gaze of the multitude.

Many rich Hindoos, natives of distant places, have houses at Benares, and not a few hasten, in their declining age, to draw their last breath in the holy city, which is supposed to be no portion of a fallen world, the lotus of the globe, not founded on common earth, but on the point of Siva's trident -an excrescence only, unconnected with aught less sacred. In short, it is a place of such peculiar sanctity, that even the most profane eaters of beef, and other impious persons, if they have been charitable to poor Brahmins, and are so fortunate as to die in this hallowed spot, are certain of going direct to Heaven. The multitude of pilgrims from all parts of India, is enormous, and much of the wealth of Benares is derived from the occasional residence of rich strangers. Very near to the minarets stands the lately finished mansion of the Peishwa, the sovereign of a Mahratta state. It is seven stories high, and, as the roof commands the same prospect which is seen from the minarets, and the ascent affords more objects of interest, a description of the latter, whose interior consists only of a narrow winding stair, may be spared. We entered the mansion through a porch, and found ourselves, on passing folding-doors thickly studded with iron plates, in a quadrangle surrounded by a covered gallery. This court often serves as an abiding place for cattle, but it is also frequently kept very neatly, and ornamented with fountains and parterres. One large room, divided across with a row of carved pillars, floored and wainscoted with dark wood, highly polished, and also decorated with carved work, faced the street; from this apartment a single narrow flight of stairs led to a second above, of similar dimensions, opening likewise on a gallery or cloister, corresponding with the one below, which was furnished with several small chambers. On the opposite side of the room another flight of stairs appeared, leading to a third saloon, gallery, &c., precisely the same as those beneath; and in this manner, crossing every successive apartment to reach the staircase, we gained the upper story.

As we ascended, the noise from the crowded street below subsided into low murmurs, and was entirely lost at the highest point of elevation: while we could not sufficiently admire the wisdom displayed in the loftiness of the buildings, and the narrowness of the avenues, which I, at least, had deemed so inconvenient: not a sunbeam could find its way to the lanes and alleys, the lower rooms were cool and shady, while those which towered over the surrounding houses, presented from their windows a rich and splendid prospect. We made very few halts until we reached the roof, which, being surrounded by a parapet, was a more desirable resting place than the apartment beneath, from whence we looked down from windows opening to the floor, and unguarded by balcony or railing, with sensations of terror; so giddy were we made by the contemplation of the awful depth below.

On attaining the highest landing place, Benares, with its fantastic buildings, luxuriant gardens, thronged streets, and broad river covered with innumerable boats, lay beneath us like a map; while, far as the eye could reach, a plain richly cultivated, and dotted with groves and villages, extended to the meeting horizon; it is said, that the range of the Himalaya Mountains is sometimes visible from this altitude, but although the sky was very clear, we looked in vain for the monarchs of the world. I confess that I was not much disappointed, being satisfied with nearer and humbler objects, never seen to so much advantage before flocks of pigeons and paroquets were flying in clouds beneath us, the sun glancing on the bright plumage of their outstretched wings, as they skimmed along; even the adventurous monkeys, with which the city is thronged, contented themselves with less elevated points, and were to be seen perched upon the projecting cornices below. Near to us were several houses inhabited by Mahratta families. The females of these people have never submitted to the seclusion, which, after the Moosulman conquest of Hindoostan, became the fashion throughout the subjugated provinces; and the ladies, our neighbours, did not scruple to gaze unveiled upon our party. After sunset, every roof would have been occupied by female groups; and I regretted much that I could not return to enjoy the interesting scene, which the Peishwa, by building so much higher than his neighbours, had secured for himself. On descending to the lower floor, I was glad to avail myself of my tonjon, being thoroughly fatigued. All the shops were now open, and the streets literally thronged. I observed that whenever our party met young women, many of whom belonging to the lower orders were to be seen in the streets, they instantly veiled their faces, and some squeezed themselves into recesses in the walls. The perambulations of Europeans are not of common occurrence; and though the natives disregard the gaze of their own people, they seemed very unwilling to expose themselves to that of foreigners.

Upon our arrival at the Chokey, where we had left our carriages, we found a number of awnings erected, similar to the booths at an English fair, and a great variety of goods of a superior description exposed for sale. Not hav ing been able to make a bargain for a very illcarved ivory elephant, for which an enormous price had been demanded, and unwilling to