remained there inactive for many million years, till Brahma, who was snug inside of it, willed that its shell should break; and thus was he born in the form of a divine male, to be for ever famed, throughout all worlds, as the great forefather of spirits. Brahma, considering his high position, and his relation to the Supreme Mind, has but few honours paid him; only two or three temples having been erected to his especial service in India.

Vishnu, on the contrary, has many followers. He is represented in the sacred books as the Deliverer, ever ready to interpose between man and any danger that threatens his race. He is thought to descend frequently to this earth, in various animated forms: for marvellous and amusing are the transformations ascribed to him. He first made his appearance as a fish, of such small dimensions as to be easily placed in a chattee of water; but he gradually expanded, until a cistern, a pool, and a lake, were too small to hold this growing god. He was consequently thrown into the sea, where he destroyed a giant, and appeared blazing like molten gold, a million of leagues in extent. Changing here to a boar, he raised, with his tusks, from the bottom of the sea, our earth, and then sunk out of sight. Wonderful are the works ascribed to Vishnu; but we have quoted sufficient to satisfy the reader of their absurdity, and will now turn to the third member of the Hindoo triad, to whom the temple of Elephanta is supposed to be dedicated.

Siva is represented as of a bright silver colour

sometimes having five faces, and at other times only one with three eyes. The history of his exploits are strange and unnatural; and a female partner is mixed up with his adventures, called Doorga, who is the principal of the female deities—a warlike and terrific creature, and originally called Parvati, until she slew the giant of that name who had made slaves of the gods, and destroyed him by causing nine millions of warriors to issue from her body, to fight against his army of a hundred millions of chariots, and one hundred and twenty millions of elephants. After this fierce contest, Parvati took the name of this huge enemy, which name was graciously bestowed on her by the emancipated gods.

Doorga and Kalee have more worshippers than any other god or goddess in India, and their temples flow with the blood of animal sacrifices. Decoits, thieves, and all the worst characters that spread terror throughout Hindostan, pay peculiar honours to this horrid woman, and her friend Kalee. They recognise the latter as the only goddess endued with power sufficient to protect them from discovery during their pillaging excursions. Consequently, Kalee is a most popular divinity, invoked by dark incantations for blessings and aid on every unlawful occasion or adventure in which Hindoo robbers engage. Elliot, speaking of the extraordinary superstitions of India, says, "If they did not create, they at least furnished the materials of the Grecian mythology, though softened and beautified by that poetical imagination,

which formed, in ancient times, the golden age of poetry upon earth." The lines of Mrs. Maclean on this subject are doubtless familiar to many of my readers. In allusion to Eleora, and to the gloomy superstitions of the East, as well as to the aptitude of the Greeks,

"To turn, beneath their softer sky,
All that was faith to poetry;"

She thus writes:

"Hence had the Grecian fables birth,
And wandered beautiful o'er earth;
Till every wood, and stream, and cave,
Shelter to some bright vision gave ;
For all of terrible and strange,
That from these gloomy caverns sprung,
From Greece receiv'd a graceful change,
That spoke another sky and tongue,

A finer eye, a gentler hand,

Than in their native Hindoo land."

Thousands of devotees are said to have paid annual visits to this temple of Elephanta, from all parts of the country; and even after the breaking up of its shrines, and the scattering of its priests, the cave was not entirely deserted by the deluded worshippers, who still fancied its headless gods had power enough left to hear their prayers, and to accept their vain obla~ tions. Now, its glory has departed from it, and "the sound of the church-going-bell," stealing across the slumbering waters, from Bombay, is alone heard to echo among the mountains and caves, and once pol

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luted temples, that formerly resounded to the fanatical howlings of its pilgrims, and the dinning tom-tom that attends their ceremonies. Death and time have here hushed all into silence. The people whose boast these wondrous structures must once have been, have long passed away, and their memory has long been forgotten in the land. Let us hope, that a brighter and happier day has dawned upon India, and that its poor and benighted people, so long neglected, may yet live to bless the means that are now working together for their good, and to worship the true and only God, who dwelleth not in temples made with hands.

We will now return to our party, whom we left unpacking baskets, and spreading out on a China mat the various matters we had brought from Bombay. Some of the ladies insisted on having coffee; and a Kitmutgar was accordingly sent to collect sticks, to make a fire to boil it; at which commission I remember he grumbled excessively, as it did not come within his regular code of duties as a head-table servant to perform such menial offices; however, by a little persuasion, and by the promise of some luxury, the name of which was unknown to me, he was induced to go, and soon returned with an armful of sticks, and an old soldier, who made us a profound salaam, and politely informed us in Hindostanee, that he was appointed governor of the island, and had charge of the caves, and that it was his duty to see that no one wantonly injured any of the figures. He was invited to partake of what he

saw before him; and as soon as we had sufficiently refreshed ourselves, he requested us all to bend our steps towards the Trimurti, and hear the wonderful things he had to say concerning it. These things said; and they amounted to nothing more than what I have stated; he made us another very respectful salaam, and several to the individuals who, after the fashion of the gipsy, crossed his open palm with a shining rupee or two, and vanished as unexpectedly as he had appeared; leaving those who understood his language better than I did, exceedingly amused by his parting address. The heat had not destroyed our appetite, nor did the monster figures in the least scare us during the interesting service of dinner and tea combined. Humourous anecdotes related by the Anglo-Indian gave a zest to the entertainment, and songs and music now enlivened our little party. Some of these songs having reference to the country, I shall endeavour to present a free version of one of them, with all its imperfections, to my indulgent readers :

Now panting nature seeks repose,

The sun sinks low, the night-flower blows

And scents the sultry air;

The camel near yon cotton tree,

Folds under him the wearied knee,

No burthen now to bear.

The vampire sails round temples old

Where legendary tale is told

Of Doorgas' fierce allies;

The bulbul sings his farewell song

From flowery shrub, whence all day long,

His grateful notes arise.