posed to watch over, as good spirits, those withindoors. Between the legs of an elephant, or a Brahminy bull, it is not unusual to see a jackdaw's or a pigeon's nest, constructed; and sparrows and minahs bring up their young ones undisturbed in the open mouth of a buffalo, or among the folds of a monster serpent. The minah, (gracula religiosa, Linn.) I may here observe, has all the characteristics of the English starling about him, though differing in plumage from that well-known bird. The minah is fond of the abodes of man, and you meet with it in every town and village in India. In the streets here it is not unusual to see flocks of birds, so tame as scarcely to move out of your way as you pass, but no one thinks of disturbing them. The children, most unlike our children at home in all their movements and actions, take but little notice of them; indeed they are taught to love and be kind to all God's creatures, and to deprive nothing of the life which they cannot give. The consequence of this part of their education, which arises from the popular belief in the transmigration of souls, and from which, we think, English parents might gather a useful hint, is, that we see here, as it were, perfect harmony existing between man, beast, and bird. The tameness of these birds, as I must confess, was not "shocking to me;" I was delighted to live in a country where cruelty to the inferior animals was almost unknown, and where the beautiful creatures of the great Creator were justly valued, and not shot down for the mere sport of

the idle and vicious. A stream of love, too, is thus infused into the infant mind. We see it in childhood, and we see its fruits in manhood; for the domestic hearth of the gentle Hindoo is never so happy as when surrounded by his descendants, even to the second and third generations. In short, nothing but poverty or death ever separates the members of a Hindoo family. Early of a morning, I have seen little children filling the stone troughs, so often met with in Indian villages, with water, to supply the wants of the many animals that pass up and down during the day, in the dry, hot season; and there was something so touching in this innocent office, that I could have kissed the dark little faces that smiled so sweetly on the pigeons and other birds, as they came fearlessly to bathe in the fresh water so kindly supplied for their use. But I love children, and must make my way back to their houses again.

On each side of the principal entrance of a house at Bombay, there is commonly a small Gothic niche for the reception of lamps, which, in the dwellings of the wealthy natives, are lighted every night with a simple bit of cotton-wool, rolled between the fingers, and stuck into a tin-holder, which is sunk in cocoa-nut oil. Some houses have a winding staircase outside, so as to enable you to reach the flat roof without going through the building; or to ascend to an upper story, which perhaps may be occupied by another branch of the family. The rooms are generally large, but very low and badly

ventilated; and from the custom of burning sticks in the form of long slender candles, covered with powdered sandal-wood and saltpetre, are redolent of this sickly scented smoke that hangs over everything. Some of the roofs are only tiled in part, and the flat portion is covered with a fine cement called chunam, which, when thoroughly dry, becomes very white and polished. Here may often be seen China vases with flowers planted in them, stone seats in great variety, chairs, and couches for the idler or sleeper. These roofs are much resorted to by Hindoo and Parsee ladies, who go up to pray, unseen by the busy world below; for they are supposed to lose caste if they appear in public, and are quite shut out from holding any intercourse with strangers; consequently, their lives are passed in great seclusion from the world, and this is the only opportunity which they enjoy of looking occasionally upon the surrounding beauties of their fair country; and of contemplating at night, from their house-tops, the wonders of the starry firmament. Some of the streets are so narrow, that the buildings on each side almost meet at the top; and such streets are, of course, awfully hot, every breath of air being forbidden to enter. It is true, indeed, that the sun cannot annoy or distress those who are walking below; and this is, certainly, so far an advantage over the broad system; but, upon the whole, these confined streets are a great drawback to the health of the Fort and town. The grand end aimed at in

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the construction of all Indian buildings is, to defend them as much as possible from the immediate influence of the sun's rays; and various are the devices resorted to, to effect this desirable object. The streets, when I first arrived, were suffered to remain in a very offensive state, more particularly in the northern quarter of the Fort, which is densely inhabited by the poorer classes of Mohammedans and Parsees, who were accustomed to cast out, in front of their dwellings, everything that was of no use within; but scavengers are now employed to clear away the pestilential accumulations that impregnated the breath of heaven with every species of abomination. Almost constant fever, dysentery, and cholera, were of course, the result of this horrid and disgraceful state of things, which thus brought along with it its own reward; and taking into consideration the condition of other native towns which it was my lot to visit, we may easily account for the dreadful ravages which these diseases occasion in the East-sweeping off, as they sometimes do, whole populations, in a very brief space of time. As the fortifications rise to a great height, you have not the least chance of enjoying the morning or evening sea-breeze, unless it be from lofty balconies, windows, or the flat roofs already mentioned; consequently, hundreds of persons leave the Fort at stated hours, and assemble in picturesque groups upon the esplanade, the sea-shore, and in other airy haunts, to chat over the past or coming events of the day.

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The bazaars here have but few outward attractions, as the native shopkeepers make no show of their goods outside; not having yet learned the English art of ticketing the trumpery in their windows, or of catching the eye with the astounding intelligence that everything within will be sold at an enormous sacrifice" by the owners. They sit cross-legged on a chair by the door, casting up their accounts, or fanning themselves leisurely with a punkah. If you are in want of any article, they invariably show you, in the first place, the worst specimen of it in their possession, asking you, however, double its value; and not until they see, that you are about to leave the shop, will they produce what you really want. A number of the best shops are kept by Parsees, who are very fond of trading in English and French goods, which they have either consigned to them in the usual way of business, or which they pick up at the large sales, at Frith's auction rooms, in the Fort, which sales generally take place once a month. At these rooms I occasionally spent an idle hour, in looking over the various and beautiful articles which, gathered together from all parts of the commercial world, bad speculations, and overcrowded markets, have caused to fall under the auctioneer's hammer, and which he is often obliged to dispose of at prices that must be ruinous to their owners. Among the many unaccountable and strange things that find their way to this haunt of all bargain-hunters, I particularly remember seeing