visitors, as the Roman Catholics do holy water. The Arabian brings over from the Persian Gulf all sorts of coogies, or water-filterers and holders, and his sugar-loaf baskets of plaited grass-weed, strongly made and useful, particularly attract the eye of the English. He deals in costly perfumes, and tempts you to purchase by the scents of otto, or attah, of Persia, in miniature bottles, which he does not fail to recommend in his soft language. He also deals in dates, which are usually packed in round, unglazed jars; they are better and finer than those grown in India, the Arabian method of drying them being superior. The date is perhaps one of the most wholesome fruits we have; and the Arabs half live upon it. His curious straw turban, made like his baskets, distinguishes the Arabian from the crowds around him, and his spare figure and high cheek-bones seldom fail to attract attention. The sweetmeat-vender has his little stall spread out in the street. What a curious collection of things do we find here to tempt the appetite, or to quench the parching thirst of Indian children. Here are rows of brown saucers with lids on, filled with a species of electuary, made out of plantains, sugar, rasped cocoa-nut, and butter; the whole being flavoured with lime-juice-fried peas and grain at a pice a measure, papers of materials for making curry-powder, glasses of toffy, heaps of fruits, jars of fresh toddy, betal-nut, and cakes decked out with scraps of tinsel, slices of melons, pumpkins, cucumbers,

and green sugar-cane, with nameless preserves that are imported from China in sealed packages.

more.

But who are these men whom we see in a long string of ten or a dozen, holding by the skirts of each other's robes, and each a staff in his right hand, all led by a little boy, who guides them? They are the wandering, blind beggars of the land; the victims of amaurosis, a disease which is generally brought on by too great exposure to the heat and glare of the sun. Poor creatures! we do indeed feel for you! Oh! that we had the power to touch those sightless orbs with healing ointment, and give them sight once How touching is that voice of supplication, asking for the smallest sum, the least relief! What was Milton's blindness compared to thine, who hast to travel over burning wastes, and dreary lands, to beg thy daily pittance? What sweet and placid resignation do I see in that countenance! But He who has thought fit to afflict thee, has implanted in the breasts of thy fellow-creatures, that most excellent gift of charity; and the poor Hindoo drops his mite into thy trembling hand, as he hurries past upon his way. And is there no home in this mighty empire where thy aged limbs may rest, before death summons' thee away?

We will dwell no longer upon this painful picture that casts a shadow on our path, but will turn to those happy children that come laughing onward in their little lilliputian coach, drawn by four beautiful goats, with long ears and silky coats. They are

going to take their evening drive, in charge of two servants. The one who walks behind, holds over them a splendid crimson, China-satin chittree, with a gold fringe of chaste design, as large as our gig umbrellas; and he who leads the animals is an old and faithful domestic of the Parsee family, to whom they belong. Let us examine the costume of these loved ones; for loved they must be, if we may judge by the care and taste displayed in the arrangement of the luxuriant curls that hang down the back of each boy. They all wear flowered, white muslin tunics, full in the sleeves, gathered up in folds round the wrist, and fitting tight round the neck and waist. Under this almost transparent robe, may be detected a yellow satin boddice, also fitting tight; and then we come to the full Turkish silk trousers, with white socks, and embroidered slippers; skull-caps of kincob, and a costly pearl or emerald in each ear, complete the dress of the children of the Parsee gentleman; and what happy little round faces they exhibit! you see at once, that they are the children of wealthy parents, as the sun has been carefully shaded away from them, and a pleasing tinge on the cheek just tells of their own sunny clime. But they have passed over the drawbridge, and under the old gateway that leads out of the fort, and the sepoy on duty recommences his walk, which had been arrested for the moment, as these little birds-of-paradise flew past him to sport amid the flower gardens of Bycullah ; he had, perhaps, seen them every evening; but we

never tire of looking on beautiful children-little angels are they, that are permitted to flit around us to give us an idea of heaven, for of such is that kingdom.

There is a dark, monastic-looking building near us, enclosed by high walls, and shaded by a few towering palm-trees that grow out of the court-yard. Just an hour ago the vesper-bell might have been heard calling its inmates to prayers, for it is a Romish Portuguese seminary, for the education of youth destined for the church; and though the pupils are tall, full-grown young men, they may be seen coming out two-and-two into the esplanade like schoolboys parading for a walk. They all wear black, short gowns, with white collars turned over the shoulders, a kind of Oxford cap, and buckles in their shoes. The robust well-fed looking men, who in puce surplices and bishops' hats, walking on each side, are the priests connected with this establishment. One of the members of this seminary told me, their priests will never allow them to read an English bible, on the plea that it is not faithfully translated. I fear the translation which they do read, has not tended much to improve their morals, if we may judge from their daily walk and conduct. The natives unfortunately judge our religion by theirs, at least, some with whom I have conversed could not clearly comprehend the practical difference between corrupted Popery and Protestantism, seeing that we all, as they said, called ourselves Christians.

K

The entrance to all the Mohammedan and Hindoo temples and pagodas are beset with beggars of every description, who keep up a perpetual baying all day long, soliciting charity and alms from those who go in to pray, or are passing in the streets. Here, the cripple is put down by his friend upon a mat in a shaded place, early in the morning, to excite the compassion of the multitude. Some of these poor creatures are so frightfully deformed, as to make you turn away almost involuntarily from the hideous. lump of disease spread out before you. I have seen at these places some very curious and novel distortions of the vertebræ, and remember particularly one man, whom I often stayed to look at, and whose head was completely reversed, the chin apparently resting a little below the nape of the neck. The afflicted leper stands here with his arms and legs fully exposed; they look as if they had been covered with old whitewash, which was scaling off from the dark ground underneath; but he stands alone, and his companions in misery shun his neighbourhood as contagious. Some of these men are cripples by nature, and some by art, and very many are arrant knaves and impostors. Sunyasse Brahmins; Faquirs, and other religious devotees, contrive to obtain a very good livelihood at these temples, and along the road sides and often startle you with their painted bodies, and idiotic expression of countenance. Such various and interesting descriptions have been given of these people, that I have scarcely anything fresh to offer on