CHAPTER III.

Ek-powa Ghat -- Sandstones -- Shahgunj -- Table-land, elevation, etc.

-- Gum-arabic -- Mango -- Fair -- Aquatic plants -- Rujubbund --

Storm -- False sunset and sunrise -- Bind hills -- Mirzapore --

Manufactures, imports, etc. -- Climate of -- Thuggee -- Chunar --

Benares -- Mosque -- Observatory -- Sar-nath -- Ghazeepore --

Rose-gardens -- Manufactory of Attar -- Lord Cornwallis' tomb --

Ganges, scenery and natural history of -- Pelicans -- Vegetation --

Insects -- Dinapore -- Patna -- Opium godowns and manufacture --

Mudar, white and purple -- Monghyr islets -- Hot Springs of Setakoond

-- Alluvium of Ganges -- Rocks of Sultun-gunj -- Bhaugulpore --

Temples of Mt. Manden -- Coles and native tribes -- Bhaugulpore

rangers -- Horticultural gardens.

On the 3rd of March I bade farewell to Mr. Williams and his kind

party, and rode over a plain to the village of Markunda, at the foot

of the Ghat. There the country becomes very rocky and wooded, and a

stream is crossed, which runs over a flat bed of limestone, cracked

into the appearance of a tesselated pavement. For many miles there is

no pass over the Kymore range, except this, significantly called

"Ek-powa-Ghat" (one-foot Ghat). It is evidently a _fault,_ or

shifting of the rocks, producing so broken a cliff as to admit of a

path winding over the shattered crags. On either side, the precipices

are extremely steep, of horizontally stratified rocks, continued in

an unbroken line, and the views across the plain and Soane valley,

over which the sun was now setting, were superb. At the summit we

entered on a dead flat plain or table-land, with no hills, except

along the brim of the broad valley we had left, where are some

curious broad pyramids, formed of slabs of sandstone arranged in

steps. By dark we reached the village of Roump (alt. 1090 feet),

beyond the top of the pass.

On the next day I proceeded on a small, fast, and wofully

high-trotting elephant, to Shahgunj, where I enjoyed Mr. Felle's

hospitality for a few days. The country here, though elevated, is,

from the nature of the soil and formation, much more fertile than

what I had left. Water is abundant, both in tanks and wells, and

rice-fields, broad and productive, cover the ground; while groves of

tamarinds and mangos, now loaded with blossoms, occur at

every village.

It is very singular that the elevation of this table-land (1100 feet

at Shahgunj) should coincide with that of the granite range of Upper

Bengal, where crossed by the grand trunk road, though they have no

feature but the presence of alluvium in common. Scarce a hillock

varies the surface here, and the agricultural produce of the two is

widely different. Here the flat ledges of sandstone retain the

moisture, and give rise to none of those impetuous torrents which

sweep it off the inclined beds of gneiss, or splintered quartz.

Nor is there here any of the effloresced salts so forbidding to

vegetation where they occur. Wherever the alluvium is deep on these

hills, neither _Catechu, Olibanum, Butea, Terminalia, Diospyros,_

dwarf-palm, or any of those plants are to be met with, which abound

wherever the rock is superficial, and irrespectively of its

mineral characters.

The gum-arabic _Acacia_ is abundant here, though not seen below,

and very rare to the eastward of this meridian, for I saw but little

of it in Behar. It is a plant partial to a dry climate, and rather

prefers a good soil. In its distribution it in some degree follows

the range of the camel, which is its constant companion over

thousands of leagues. In the valley of the Ganges I was told that

neither the animal nor plant flourish east of the Soane, where I

experienced a marked change in the humidity of the atmosphere on my

passage down the Ganges. It was a circumstance I was interested in,

having first met with the camel at Teneriffe and the Cape Verd

Islands, the westernmost limit of its distribution; imported thither,

however, as it now is into Australia, where, though there is no

_Acacia Arabica,_ four hundred other species of the genus

are known.

The mango, which is certainly _the_ fruit of India, (as the

pine-apple is of the Eastern Islands, and the orange of the West,)

was now blossoming, and a superb sight. The young leaves are

purplish-green, and form a curious contrast to the deep lurid hue of

the older foliage; especially when the tree is (which often occurs)

dimidiate, one half the green, and the other the red shades of

colours; when in full blossom, all forms a mass of yellow, diffusing

a fragrance rather too strong and peculiar to be pleasant.

We passed a village where a large fair was being held, and singularly

familiar its arrangements were to my early associations. The women

and children are the prime customers; for the latter

whirl-you-go-rounds, toys, and sweetmeats were destined; to tempt the

former, little booths of gay ornaments, patches for the forehead,

ear-rings of quaint shapes, bugles and beads. Here as at home, I

remarked that the vendors of these superfluities occupy the

approaches to this Vanity-Fair. As, throughout the East, the trades

are congregated into particular quarters of the cities, so here the

itinerants grouped themselves into little bazaars for each class of

commodity. Whilst I was engaged in purchasing a few articles of

native workmanship, my elephant made an attack on a sweetmeat stall,

demolishing a magnificent erection of barley-sugar, before his

proceedings could be put a stop to.

Mr. Felle's bungalow (whose garden smiled with roses in this

wilderness) was surrounded by a moat (fed by a spring), which was

full of aquatic plants, _Nymphaea, Damasonium, Villarsia cristata,

Aponogeton,_ three species of _Potamogeton,_ two of _Naias, Chara_

and _Zannichellia_ (the two latter indifferently, and often together,

used in the refinement of sugar). In a large tank hard by, wholly fed

by rain water, I observed only the _Villarsia Indica,_ no

_Aponogeton, Nymphaea,_ or _Dammonium,_ nor did these occur in any of

the other tanks I examined, which were otherwise well peopled with

plants. This may not be owing to the quality of the water so much as

to its varying quantity in the tank.

All around here, as at Roump, is a dead flat, except towards the

crest of the ghats which overhang the valley of the Soane, and there

the sandstone rock rises by steps into low hills. During a ride to a

natural tank amongst these rocky elevations, I passed from the

alluvium to the sandstone, and at once met with all the prevailing

plants of the granite, gneiss, limestone and hornstone rocks

previously examined, and which I have enumerated too often to require

recapitulation; a convincing proof that the mechanical properties and

not the chemical constitution of the rocks regulate the distribution

of these plants.

Rujubbund (the pleasant spot), is a small tarn, or more properly the

expanded bed of a stream, art having aided nature in its formation:

it is edged by rocks and cliffs fringed with the usual trees of the

neighbourhood; it is a wild and pretty spot, not unlike some

birch-bordered pool in the mountains of Wales or Scotland,

sequestered and picturesque. It was dark before I got back, with

heavy clouds and vivid lightning approaching from the south-west.

The day had been very hot (3 p.m., 90 degrees), and the evening the

same; but the barometer did not foretell the coming tempest, which

broke with fury at 7 p.m., blowing open the doors, and accompanied

with vivid lightning and heavy thunder, close by and all round,

though no rain fell.

In the clear dry mornings of these regions, a curious optical

phenomena may be observed, of a _sunrise_ in the _west,_ and _sunset_

in the _east._ In either case, bright and well-defined beams rise to

the zenith, often crossing to the opposite horizon. It is a beautiful

feature in the firmament, and equally visible whether the horizon be

cloudy or clear, the white beams being projected indifferently

against a dark vapour or the blue serene. The zodiacal light shines

from an hour or two after sunset till midnight, with singular

brightness, almost equalling the milky way.

_March_ 7.-Left Shahgunj for Mirzapore, following the road to

Goorawal, over a dead alluvial flat without a feature to remark.

Turning north from that village, the country undulates, exposing the

rocky nucleus, and presenting the usual concomitant vegetation.

Occasionally park-like views occurred, which, where diversified by

the rocky valleys, resemble much the noble scenery of the Forest of

Dean on the borders of Wales; the _Mahowa_ especially

representing the oak, with its spreading and often gnarled branches.

Many of the exposed slabs of sandstone are beautifully waved on the

surface with the _ripple-mark_ impression.

Amowee, where I arrived at 9 p.m., is on an open grassy flat, about

fifteen miles from the Ganges, which is seen from the neighbourhood,

flowing among trees, with the white houses, domes, and temples of

Mirzapore scattered around, and high above which the dust-clouds were

coursing along the horizon.

Mr. Money, the magistrate of Mirzapore, kindly sent a mounted

messenger to meet me here, who had vast trouble in getting bearers

for my palkee. In it I proceeded the next day to Mirzapore,

descending a steep ghat of the Bind hills by an excellent road, to

the level plains of the Ganges. Unlike the Dunwah pass, this is

wholly barren. At the foot the sun was intensely hot, the roads

alternately rocky and dusty, the villages thronged with a widely

different looking race from those of the hills, and the whole air of

the outskirts, on a sultry afternoon, far from agreeable.

Mirzapore is a straggling town, said to contain 100,000 inhabitants.

It flanks the river, and is built on an undulating alluvial bank,

full of kunker, elevated 360 feet above the sea, and from 50 to 80

above the present level of the river. The vicinity of the Ganges and

its green bank, and the numbers of fine trees around, render it a

pleasing, though not a fine town. It presents the usual Asiatic

contrast of squalor and gaudiness; consisting of large squares and

broad streets, interspersed with acres of low huts and groves of

trees. It is celebrated for its manufactory of carpets, which are

admirable in appearance, and, save in durability, equal to the

English. Indigo seed from Bundelkund is also a most extensive article

of commerce, the best coming from the Doab. For cotton, lac, sugar,

and saltpetre, it is one of the greatest marts in India. The articles

of native manufacture are brass washing and cooking utensils, and

stone deities worked out of the sandstone.

There is little native vegetation, the country being covered with

cultivation and extensive groves of mango, and occasionally of guava.

English vegetables are abundant and excellent, and the strawberries,

which ripen in March, rival the European fruit in size, but hardly

in flavour.

During the few days spent at Mirzapore with my kind friend, Mr. C.

Hamilton, I was surprised to find the temperature of the day cooler

by nearly 4 degrees than that of the hills above, or of the upper

part of the Soane valley; while on the other hand the nights were

decidedly warmer. The dewpoint again was even lower in proportion,

(72 degrees) and the climate consequently drier. The atmosphere was

extremely dry and electrical, the hair constantly crackling when

combed. Further west, where the climate becomes still drier, the

electricity of the air is even greater. Mr. Griffith mentions in his

journal that in filling barometer tubes in Affghanistan, he

constantly experienced a shock.

Here I had the pleasure of meeting Lieutenant Ward, one of the

suppressors of Thuggee (_Thuggee,_ in Hindostan, signifies a

deceiver; fraud, not open force, being employed). This gentleman

kindly showed me the approvers or king's evidence of his

establishment, belonging to those three classes of human scourges,

the Thug, Dakoit, and Poisoner. Of these the first was the Thug, a

mild-looking man, who had been born and bred to the profession: he

had committed many murders, saw no harm in them, and felt neither

shame nor remorse. His organs of observation and destructiveness were

large, and the cerebellum small. He explained to me how the gang

waylay the unwary traveller, enter into conversation with him, and

have him suddenly seized, when the superior throws his own linen

girdle round the victim's neck and strangles him, pressing the

knuckles against the spine. Taking off his own, he passed it round my

arm, and showed me the turn as coolly as a sailor once taught me the

_hangman's knot._ The Thug is of any caste, and from any part

of India. The profession have particular stations, which they

generally select for murder, throwing the body of their victim into

a well.

The Dakoit (_dakhee,_ a robber) belongs to a class who rob in

gangs, but never commit murder--arson and housebreaking also forming

part of their profession. These are all high-class Rajpoots,

originally from Guzerat; who, on being conquered, vowed vengeance on

mankind. They speak both Hindostanee and the otherwise extinct

Guzerat language; this is guttural in the extreme, and very singular

in sound. They are a very remarkable people, found throughout India,

and called by various names; their women dress peculiarly, and are

utterly devoid of modesty. The man I examined was a short, square,

but far from powerful Nepalese, with high arched eyebrows, and no

organs of observation. These people are great cowards.

The Poisoners all belong to one caste, of Pasie, or dealers in toddy:

they go singly or in gangs, haunting the travellers' resting-places,

where they drop half a rupee weight of pounded or whole _Datura_

seeds into his food, producing a twenty-hours' intoxication, during

which he is robbed, and left to recover or sink under the stupifying

effects of the narcotic. He told me that the _Datura_ seed is

gathered without ceremony, and at any time, place, or age of the

plant. He was a dirty, ill-conditioned looking fellow, with no bumps

behind his ears, or prominence of eyebrow region, but a remarkable

cerebellum.

Though now all but extinct (except in Cuttack), through ten or

fifteen years of unceasing vigilance on the part of Government, and

incredible activity and acuteness in the officers employed, the Thugs

were formerly a wonderfully numerous body, who abstained from their

vocation solely in the immediate neighbourhood of their own villages;

which, however, were not exempt from the visits of other Thugs; so

that, as Major Sleeman says,--"The annually returning tide of murder

swept unsparingly over the whole face of India, from the Sutlej to

the sea-coast, and from the Himalaya to Cape Comorin. One narrow

district alone was free, the Concan, beyond the ghats, whither they

never penetrated." In Bengal, river Thugs replace the travelling

practitioner. Candeish and Rohilkund alone harboured no Thugs as

residents, but they were nevertheless haunted by the gangs.

Their origin is uncertain, but supposed to be very ancient, soon

after the Mahommedan conquest. They now claim a divine original, and

are supposed to have supernatural powers, and to be the emissaries of

the divinity, like the wolf, the tiger, and the bear. It is only

lately that they have swarmed so prodigiously,--seven original gangs

having migrated from Delhi to the Gangetic provinces about 200 years

ago, and from these all the rest have sprung. Many belong to the most

amiable, intelligent, and respectable classes of the lower and even

middle ranks: they love their profession, regard murder as sport, and

are never haunted with dreams, or troubled with pangs of conscience

during hours of solitude, or in the last moments of life. The victim

is an acceptable sacrifice to the goddess Davee, who by some classes

is supposed to eat the lifeless body, and thus save her votaries the

necessity of concealing it.

They are extremely superstitious, always consulting omens, such as

the direction in which a hare or jackall crosses the road; and even

far more trivial circumstances will determine the fate of a dozen of

people, and perhaps of an immense treasure. All worship the pickaxe,

which is symbolical of their profession, and an oath sworn on it

binds closer than on the Koran. The consecration of this weapon is a

most elaborate ceremony, and takes place only under certain trees.

They rise through various grades: the lowest are scouts; the second,

sextons; the third are holders of the victims' hands; the highest,

stranglers.

Though all agree in never practising cruelty, or robbing previous to

murder, never allowing any but infants to escape (and these are

trained to Thuggee), and never leaving a trace of such goods as may

be identified, there are several variations in their mode of

conducting operations; some tribes spare certain castes, others none:

murder of woman is against all rules; but the practice crept into

certain gangs, and this it is which led to their discountenance by

the goddess Davee, and the consequent downfall of the system.

Davee, they say, allowed the British to punish them, because a

certain gang had murdered the mothers to obtain their daughters to be

sold to prostitution.

Major Sleeman has constructed a map demonstrating the number of

"Bails," or regular stations for committing murder, in the kingdom of

Oude alone, which is 170 miles long by 100 broad, and in which are

274, which are regarded by the Thug with as much satisfaction and

interest as a game preserve is in England: nor are these "bails" less

numerous in other parts of India. Of twenty assassins who were

examined, one frankly confessed to having been engaged in 931

murders, and the least guilty of the number to 24. Sometimes 150

persons collected into one gang, and their profits have often been

immense, the murder of six persons on one occasion yielding 82,000

rupees; upwards of 8000 pounds.

Of the various facilities for keeping up the system, the most

prominent are, the practice amongst the natives of travelling before

dawn, of travellers mixing freely together, and taking their meals by

the way-side instead of in villages; in the very Bails, in fact, to

which they are inveigled by the Thug in the shape of a

fellow-traveller; money remittances are also usually made by

disguised travellers, whose treasure is exposed at the custom-houses,

and, worst of all, the bankers will never own to the losses they

sustain, which, as a visitation of God, would, if avenged, lead, they

think, to future, and perhaps heavier punishment. Had the Thugs

destroyed Englishmen, they would quickly have been put down; but the

system being invariably practised on a class of people acknowledging

the finger of the Deity in its execution, its glaring enormities were

long in rousing the attention of the Indian Government.

A few examples of the activity exercised by the suppressors may be

interesting. They act wholly through the information given by

approvers, who are simply king's evidences. Of 600 Thugs engaged in

the murder of 64 people, and the plunder of nearly 20,000 pounds, all

except seventy were captured in ten years, though separated into six

gangs, and their operations continued from 1826 to 1830:

the last party was taken in 1836. And again, between the years 1826

and 1835, 1562 Thugs were seized, of whom 382 were hanged, and 909

transported; so that now it is but seldom these wretches are ever

heard of.

To show the extent of their operations I shall quote an anecdote from

Sleeman's Reports (to which I am indebted for most of the above

information). He states that he was for three years in charge of a

district on the Nerbudda, and considered himself acquainted with

every circumstance that occurred in the neighbourhood; yet, during

that time, 100 people were murdered and buried within less than a

quarter of a mile of his own residence!

Two hundred and fifty boats full of river Thugs, in crews of fifteen,

infested the Ganges between Benares and Calcutta, during five months

of every year, under pretence of conveying pilgrims. Travellers along

the banks were tracked, and offered a passage, which if refused in

the first boat was probably accepted in some other. At a given signal

the crews rushed in, doubled up the decoyed victim, broke his back,

and threw him into the river, where floating corpses are too numerous

to elicit even an exclamation.

At Mirzapore I engaged a boat to carry me down the river to

Bhagulpore, whence I was to proceed to the Sikkim-Himalaya.

The vessel, which, though slow and very shabby, had the advantage of

being cooler and more commodious than the handsomer craft.

Its appearance was not unlike that of a floating haystack, or

thatched cottage: its length was forty feet, and breadth fifteen, and

it drew a foot and a half of water: the deck, on which a kind of

house, neatly framed of matting, was erected, was but a little above

the water's edge. My portion of this floating residence was lined

with a kind of reed-work formed of long culms of _Saccharum._

The crew and captain consisted of six naked Hindoos, one of whom

steered by the huge rudder, sitting on a bamboo-stage astern; the

others pulled four oars in the very bows opposite my door, or tracked

the boat along the riverbank.

In my room (for cabin I cannot call it) stood my palkee, fitted as a

bed, with mosquito curtains; a chair and table. On one side were

placed all my papers and plants, under arrangement to go home; on the

other, my provisions, rice, sugar, curry-powder, a preserved ham, and

cheese, etc. Around hung telescope, botanical box, dark lantern,

barometer, and thermometer, etc., etc. Our position was often

_ashore,_ and, Hindoo-like, on the lee-shore, going bump, bump,

bump, so that I could hardly write. I considered myself fortunate in

having to take this slow conveyance down, it enabling me to write and

arrange all day long.

I left on the 15th of March, and in the afternoon of the same day

passed Chunar.* [The first station at which Henry Martyn laboured in

India.] This is a tabular mass of sandstone, projecting into the

river, and the eastern termination of the Kymore range. There is not

a rock between this and the Himalaya, and barely a stone all the way

down the Ganges, till the granite and gneiss rocks of the Behar range

are again met with. The current of the Ganges is here very strong,

and its breadth much lessened: the river runs between high banks of

alluvium, containing much kunker. At Benares it expands into a broad

stream, with a current which during the rains is said to flow eight

miles an hour, when the waters rise 43 feet. The fall hence is 300

feet to its junction with the Hooghly, viz., one foot to every mile.

My observations made that from Mirzapore to Benares considerably

greater.

Benares is the Athens of India. The variety of buildings along the

bank is incredible. There are temples of every shape in all stages of

completion and dilapidation, and at all angles of inclination; for

the banks give way so much that many of these edifices are fearfully

out of the perpendicular.

The famed mosque, built by Aurungzebe on the site of a Hindoo temple,

is remarkable for its two octagonal minarets, 232 feet above the

Ganges. The view from it over the town, especially of the European

Resident's quarter, is fine; but the building itself is deficient in

beauty or ornament: it commands the muddy river with its thousands of

boats, its waters peopled with swimmers and bathers, who spring in

from the many temples, water-terraces, and ghats on the city side:

opposite is a great sandy plain. The town below looks a mass of poor,

square, flat-roofed houses, of which 12,000 are brick, and 16,000 mud

and thatch, through the crowd of which, and of small temples, the eye

wanders in vain for some attractive feature or evidence of the

wealth, the devotion, the science, or the grandeur of a city

celebrated throughout the East for all these attributes. Green

parrots and pigeons people the air.

The general appearance of an oriental town is always more or less

ruinous; and here the eye is fatigued with bricks and crumbling

edifices, and the ear with prayer-bells. The bright meadows and green

trees which adorn the European Resident's dwelling, some four miles

back from the river, alone relieve the monotony of the scene.

The streets are so narrow that it is difficult to ride a horse

through them; and the houses are often six stories high, with

galleries crossing above from house to house. These tall, gaunt

edifices sometimes give place to clumps of cottages, and a mass of

dusty ruins, the unsavoury retreats of vermin and filth, where the

_Calotropis arborea_ generally spreads its white branches and

glaucous leaves--a dusty plant. Here, too, enormous spiders' webs

hang from the crumbling walls, choked also with dust, and resembling

curtains of coarse muslin, being often some yards across, and not

arranged in radii and arcs, but spun like weaver's woofs.

Paintings, remarkable only for their hideous proportions and want of

perspective, are daubed in vermilion, ochre, and indigo.

The elephant, camel, and porpoise of the Ganges, dog, shepherd,

peacock, and horse, are especially frequent, and so is a running

pattern of a hand spread open, with a blood-red spot on the palm.

A still less elegant but frequent object is the fuel, which is

composed of the manure collected on the roads of the city, moulded

into flat cakes, and stuck by the women on the walls to dry,

retaining the sign-manual of the artist in the impressed form of her

outspread hand. The cognizance of the Rajah, two fish chained

together, appears over the gates of public buildings.

The hundreds of temples and shrines throughout the city are its most

remarkable feature: sacred bulls, and lingams of all sizes, strewed

with flowers and grains of rice meet the eye at every turn; and the

city's boast is the possession of one million idols, which, of one

kind and another, I can well believe. The great Hindoo festival of

the _Holi_ was now celebrating, and the city more than

ordinarily crowded; throwing red powder (lac and flour), with

rose-water, is the great diversion at a festival more childish by far

than a carnival.

Through the kindness of Mr. Reade (the Commissioner), I obtained

admission to the Bishishar-Kumardil, the "holiest of holies." It was

a small, low, stone building, daubed with red inside, and swarming

with stone images of Brahminee bulls, and various disgusting emblems.

A fat old Brahmin, naked to the waist, took me in, but allowed no

followers; and what with my ignorance of his phraseology, the clang

of bells and din of voices, I gained but little information.

Some fine bells from Nepal were evidently the lion of the temple.

I emerged, adorned with a chaplet of magnolia flowers, and with my

hands full of _Calotropis_ and _Nyctanthes_ blossoms.

It was a horrid place for noise, smell, and sights. Thence I went to

a holy well, rendered sacred because Siva, when stepping from the

Himalaya to Ceylon, accidentally let a medicine chest fall into it.

The natives frequent it with little basins or baskets of rice, sugar,

etc., dropping in a little of each while they mutter prayers.

Illustration -- EQUATORIAL-SUNDIAL

The observatory at Benares, and those at Delhi, Matra on the Jumna,

and Oujein, were built by Jey-Sing, Rajah of Jayanagar, upwards of

200 years ago; his skill in mathematical science was so well known,

that the Emperor Mahommed Shah employed him to reform the calendar.

Mr. Hunter, in the "Asiatic Researches," gives a translation of the

lucubrations of this really enlightened man, as contained in the

introduction to his own almanac.

Illustration -- EQUINOCTIAL SUN-DIAL.

Of the more important instruments I took sketches; No. 1, is the

Naree-wila, or Equatorial dial; No. 2, the Semrat-yunta, or

Equinoctial dial; No. 3, an Equatorial, probably a Kranti-urit, or

Azimuth circle.* [Hunter, in As Soc. Researches, 177 (Calcutta); Sir

R. Barker in Phil. Trans., lxvii. 608 (1777); J. L. Williams, Phil.

Trans., lxxxiii. 45 (1793).] Jey-Sing's genius and love of science

seem, according to Hunter, to have descended to some of his family,

who died early in this century, when "Urania fled before the

brazen-fronted Mars, and the best of the observatories, that of

Oujein, was turned into an arsenal and cannon foundry."

Illustration -- BRASS AZIMUTH CIRCLE

The observatory is still the most interesting object in Benares,

though it is now dirty and ruinous, and the great stone instruments

are rapidly crumbling away. The building is square, with a central

court and flat roof, round which the astrolabes, etc. are arranged.

A half naked Astronomer-Royal, with a large sore on his stomach, took

me round--he was a pitiful object, and told me he was very hungry.

The observatory is nominally supported by the Rajah of Jeypore, who

doles out a too scanty pittance to his scientific corps.

In the afternoon Mr. Reade drove me to the Sar-nath, a singular

Boodhist temple, a cylindrical mass of brickwork, faced with stone,

the scrolls on which were very beautiful, and as sharp as if freshly

cut: it is surmounted by a tall dome, and is altogether about seventy

or a hundred feet high. Of the Boodh figures only one remains, the

others having been used by a recent magistrate of Benares in

repairing a bridge over the Goomtee! From this place the Boodhist

monuments, Hindoo temple, Mussulman mosque, and English church, were

all embraced in one _coup d'oeil._ On our return, we drove past

many enormous mounds of earth and brick-work, the vestiges of Old

Benares, but whether once continued to the present city or not is

unknown. Remains are abundant, eighteen feet below the site of the

present city.

Benares is the Mecca of the Hindoos, and the number of pilgrims who

visit it is incalculable. Casi (its ancient name, signifying

splendid), is alleged to be no part of this world, which rests on

eternity, whereas Benares is perched on a prong of Siva's trident,

and is hence beyond the reach of earthquakes.* [Probably an allusion

to the infrequency of these phenomena in this meridian; they being

common both in Eastern Bengal, and in Western India beyond the

Ganges.] Originally built of gold, the sins of the inhabitants were

punished by its transmutation into stone, and latterly into mud and

thatch: whoever enters it, and especially visits its principal idol

(Siva fossilised) is secure of heaven.

On the 18th I left Benares for Ghazepore, a pretty town situated on

the north bank of the river, celebrated for its manufacture of

rose-water, the tomb of Lord Cornwallis, and a site of the Company's

stud. The Rose gardens surround the town: they are fields, with low

bushes of the plant grown in rows, red with blossoms in the morning,

all of which are, however, plucked long before midday. The petals are

put into clay stills, with twice their weight of water, and the

produce exposed to the fresh air, for a night, in open vessels.

The unskimmed water affords the best, and it is often twice and even

oftener distilled; but the fluid deteriorates by too much

distillation. The Attar is skimmed from the exposed pans, and sells

at 10 pounds the rupee weight, to make which 20,000 flowers are

required. It is frequently adulterated with sandal-wood oil.

Lord Cornwallis' mausoleum is a handsome building, modelled by

Flaxman after the Sybil's Temple. The allegorical designs of Hindoos

and sorrowing soldiers with reversed arms, which decorate two sides

of the enclosed tomb, though perhaps as good as can be, are under any

treatment unclassical and uncouth. The simple laurel and oak-leaf

chaplets on the alternating faces are far more suitable

and suggestive.

_March_ 21.--I left Ghazepore and dropped down the Ganges; the

general features of which are soon described. A strong current four

or five miles broad, of muddy water, flows between a precipitous bank

of alluvium or sand on one side, and a flat shelving one of sand or

more rarely mud, on the other. Sand-banks are frequent in the river,

especially where the great affluents debouche; and there generally

are formed vast expanses of sand, small "Saharas," studded with

stalking pillars of sand, raised seventy or eighty feet high by gusts

of wind, erect, stately, grave-looking columns, all shaft, with

neither basement nor capital, the genii of the "Arabian Nights."

The river is always dotted with boats of all shapes, mine being

perhaps of the most common description; the great square, Yankee-like

steamers, towing their accommodation-boats (as the passengers'

floating hotels are called), are the rarest. Trees are few on the

banks, except near villages, and there is hardly a palm to be seen

above Patna. Towns are unfrequent, such as there are being mere

collections of huts, with the ghat and boats at the bottom of the

bank; and at a respectful distance from the bazaar, stand the neat

bungalows of the European residents, with their smiling gardens,

hedgings and fencings, and loitering servants at the door. A rotting

charpoy (or bedstead) on the banks is a common sight, the "_sola

reliquia_" of some poor Hindoo, who departs this life by the side

of the stream, to which his body is afterwards committed.

Shoals of small goggled-eyed fish are seen, that spring clear out of

the water; and are preyed upon by terns and other birds; a few

insects skim the surface; turtle and porpoises tumble along, all

forming a very busy contrast to the lazy alligator, sunning his green

and scaly back near the shore, with his ichthyosaurian snout raised

high above the water. Birds are numerous, especially early and late

in the day. Along the silent shore the hungry Pariah dog may be seen

tearing his meal from some stranded corpse, whilst the adjutant-bird,

with his head sunk on his body and one leg tucked up, patiently

awaits his turn. At night the beautiful Brahminee geese alight, one

by one, and seek total solitude; ever since having disturbed a god in

his slumbers, these birds are fated to pass the night in single

blessedness. The gulls and terns, again, roost in flocks, as do the

wild geese and pelicans,--the latter, however, not till after making

a hearty and very noisy supper. These birds congregate by the sides

of pools, and beat the water with violence, so as to scare the fish,

which thus become an easy prey; a fact which was, I believe, first

indicated by Pallas, during his residence on the banks of the Caspian

Sea. Shells are scarce, and consist of a few small bivalves; their

comparative absence is probably due to the paucity of limestone in

the mountains whence the many feeders flow. The sand is pure white

and small-grained, with fragments of hornblende and mica, the latter

varying in abundance as a feeder is near or far away. Pink sand* [I

have seen the same garnet sand covering the bottom of the Himalayan

torrents, where it is the produce of disintegrated gneiss, and whence

it is transported to the Ganges.] of garnets is very common, and

deposited in layers interstratified with the white quartz sand.

Worm-marks, ripple-marks, and the footsteps of alligators, birds and

beasts, abound in the wet sand. The vegetation of the banks consists

of annuals which find no permanent resting-place. Along the sandy

shores the ever-present plants are mostly English, as Dock, a

_Nasturtium, Ranunculus sceleratus, Fumitory, Juncus bufonius,_,

Common Vervain, _Gnaphalium luteo-album,_ and very frequently

_Veronica Anagallise._ On the alluvium grow the same, mixed with

Tamarisk, _Acacia Arabica,_ and a few other bushes.

Withered grass abounds; and wheat, dhal (_Cajanus_) and gram

(_Cicer arietinum_), _Carthamus,_ vetches, and rice are the

staple products of the country. Bushes are few, except the

universally prevalent Adhatoda and _Calotropis._ Trees, also,

are rare, and of stunted growth; Figs, the _Artocarpus_ and some

_Leguminosa_ prevail most. I saw but two kinds of palm, the

fan-palm, and _Phoenix_: the latter is characteristic of the

driest locality. Then, for the animal creation, men, women, and

children abound, both on the banks, and plying up and down the

Ganges. The humped cow (of which the ox is used for draught) is

common. Camels I occasionally observed, and more rarely the elephant;

poneys, goats, and dogs muster strong. Porpoises and alligators

infest the river, even above Benares. Flies and mosquitos are

terrible pests; and so are the odious flying-bugs,* [Large

Hemipterlus insects, of the genus _Derecteryx._] which insinuate

themselves between one's skin and clothes, diffusing a dreadful

odour, which is increased by any attempt to touch or remove them.

In the evening it was impossible to keep insects out of the boat, or

to hinder their putting the lights out; and of these the most

intolerable was the abovementioned flying-bug. Saucy crickets, too,

swarm, and spring up at one's face, whilst mosquitos maintain a

constant guerilla warfare, trying to the patience no less than to the

nerves. Thick webs of the gossamer spider float across the river

during the heat of the day, as coarse as fine thread, and being

inhaled keep tickling the nose and lips.

On the 18th, the morning commenced with a dust-storm, the horizon was

about 20 yards off, and ashy white with clouds of sand; the trees

were scarcely visible, and everything in my boat was covered with a

fine coat of impalpable powder, collected from the boundless alluvial

plains through which the Ganges flows. Trees were scarcely

discernible, and so dry was the wind that drops of water vanished

like magic. Neither ferns, mosses, nor lichens grow along the banks

of the Ganges, they cannot survive the transition from parching like

this to the three months' floods at midsummer, when the country is

for miles under water.

_March_ 23.--Passed the mouth of the Soane, a vast expanse of

sand dotted with droves of camels; and soon after, the wide-spread

spits of sand along the north bank announced the mouth of the Gogra,

one of the vastest of the many Himalayan affluents of the Ganges.

On the 25th of March I reached Dinapore, a large military station,

sufficiently insalubrious, particularly for European troops, the

barracks being so misplaced that the inmates are suffocated: the

buildings run east and west instead of north and south, and therefore

lose all the breeze in the hottest weather. From this place I sent

the boat down to Patna, and proceeded thither by land to the house of

Dr. Irvine, an old acquaintance and botanist, from whom I received a

most kind welcome. On the road, Bengal forms of vegetation, to which

I had been for three months a stranger, reappeared; likewise groves

of fan and toddy palms, which are both very rare higher up the river;

clumps of large bamboo, orange, _Acacia Sissoo, Melia, Guatteria

longifolia, Spondias mangifera, Odina, Euphorbia pentagona,

neriifolia_ and _trigona,_ were common road-side plants.

In the gardens, Papaw, _Croton, Jatropha, Buddleia, Cookia,_

Loquat, Litchi, Longan, all kinds of the orange tribe, and the

cocoa-nut, some from their presence, and many from their profusion,

indicated a decided change of climate, a receding from the desert

north-west of India, and its dry winds, and an approach to the damper

regions of the many-mouthed Ganges.

My main object at Patna being to see the opium Godowns (stores), I

waited on Dr. Corbett, the Assistant-Agent, who kindly explained

everything to me, and to whose obliging attentions I am much indebted.

The E.I. Company grant licences for the cultivation of the poppy, and

contract for all the produce at certain rates, varying with the

quality. No opium can be grown without this licence, and an advance

equal to about two-thirds of the value of the produce is made to the

grower. This produce is made over to district collectors, who

approximately fix the worth of the contents of each jar, and forward

it to Patna, where rewards are given for the best samples, and the

worst are condemned without payment; but all is turned to some

account in the reduction of the drug to a state fit for market.

The poppy flowers in the end of January and beginning of February,

and the capsules are sliced in February and March with a little

instrument like a saw, made of three iron plates with jagged edges,

tied together. The cultivation is very carefully conducted, nor are

there any very apparent means of improving this branch of commerce

and revenue. During the N.W., or dry winds, the best opium is

procured, the worst during the moist, or E. and N.E., when the drug

imbibes moisture, and a watery bad solution of opium collects in

cavities of its substance, and is called Passewa, according to the

absence of which the opium is generally prized.

At the end of March the opium jars arrive at the stores by water and

by land, and continue accumulating for some weeks. Every jar is

labelled and stowed in a proper place, separately tested with extreme

accuracy, and valued. When the whole quantity has been received, the

contents of all the jars are thrown into great vats, occupying a very

large building, whence the mass is distributed, to be made up into

balls for the markets. This operation is carried on in a long paved

room, where every man is ticketed, and many overseers are stationed

to see that the work is properly conducted. Each workman sits on a

stool, with a double stage and a tray before him. On the top stage is

a tin basin, containing opium sufficient for three balls; in the

lower another basin, holding water: in the tray stands a brass

hemispherical cup, in which the ball is worked. To the man's right

hand is another tray, with two compartments, one containing thin

pancakes of poppy petals pressed together, the other a cupful of

sticky opium-water, made from refuse opium. The man takes the brass

cup, and places a pancake at the bottom, smears it with opium-water,

and with many plies of the pancakes makes a coat for the opium. Of

this he takes about one-third of the mass before him, puts it inside

the petals, and agglutinates many other coats over it: the balls are

then again weighed, and reduced or increased to a certain weight if

necessary. At the day's end, each man takes his work to a rack with

numbered compartments, and deposits it in that which answers to his

own number, thence the balls (each being put in a clay cup) are

carried to an enormous drying-room, where they are exposed in tiers,

and constantly examined and turned, to prevent their being attacked

by weevils, which are very prevalent during moist winds, little boys

creeping along the racks all day long for this purpose. When dry, the

balls are packed in two layers of six each in chests, with the

stalks, dried leaves, and capsules of the plant, and sent down to

Calcutta. A little opium is prepared of very fine quality for the

Government Hospitals, and some for general sale in India; but the

proportion is trifling, and such is made up into square cakes. A good

workman will prepare from thirty to fifty balls a day, the total

produce being 10,000 to 12,000 a day; during one working season

1,353,000 balls are manufactured for the Chinese market alone.

The poppy-petal _pancakes,_ each about a foot radius, are made

in the fields by women, by the simple operation of pressing the fresh

petals together. They are brought in large baskets, and purchased at

the commencement of the season. The liquor with which the pancakes

are agglutinated together by the ball-maker, and worked into the

ball, is merely inspissated opium-water, the opium for which is

derived from the condemned opium, (Passewa,) the washing of the

utensils, and of the workmen, every one of whom is nightly laved

before he leaves the establishment, and the water is inspissated.

Thus not a particle of opium is lost. To encourage the farmers, the

refuse stalks, leaves, and heads are bought up, to pack the balls

with; but this is far from an economical plan, for it is difficult to

keep the refuse from damp and insects.

A powerful smell of opium pervaded these vast buildings, which Dr.

Corbett* [I am greatly indebted to Mr. Oldfield, the Opium Agent, and

to Dr. Corbett, for a complete set of specimens, implements, and

drawings, illustrating the cultivation and manufacture of Opium.

They are exhibited in the Kew Museum of Economic Botany.] assured me

did not affect himself or the assistants. The men work ten hours a

day, becoming sleepy in the afternoon; but this is only natural in

the hot season: they are rather liable to eruptive diseases, possibly

engendered by the nature of their occupation.

Even the best East Indian opium is inferior to the Turkish, and owing

to peculiarities of climate, will probably always be so. It never

yields more than five per cent. of morphia, whence its inferiority,

but is as good in other respects, and even richer in narcotine.

The care and attention devoted to every department of collecting,

testing, manipulating, and packing, is quite extraordinary; and the

result has been an impulse to the trade, beyond what was anticipated.

The natives have been quick at apprehending and supplying the wants

of the market, and now there are more demands for licences to grow

opium than can be granted. All the opium eaten in India is given out

with a permit to licensed dealers, and the drug is so adulterated

before it reaches the retailers in the bazaars, that it does not

contain one-thirtieth part of the intoxicating power that it did

when pure.

Patna is the stronghold of Mahommedanism, and from its central

position, its command of the Ganges, and its proximity to Nepal

(which latter has been aptly compared to a drawn dagger, pointed at

the heart of India), it is an important place. For this reason there

are always a European and several Native Regiments stationed there.

In the neighbourbood there is little to be seen, and the highly

cultivated flat country is unfavourable to native vegetation.

The _mudar_ plant (_Calotropis_) was abundant here, but I

found that its properties and nomenclature were far from settled

points. On the banks of the Ganges, the larger, white-flowered,

sub-arboreous species prevailed; in the interior, and along my whole

previous route, the smaller purple-flowered kind only was seen.

Mr. Davis, of Rotas, was in the habit of using the medicine

copiously, and vouched for the cure of eighty cases, chiefly of

leprosy, by the _white mudar,_ gathered on the Ganges, whilst

the purple of Rotas and the neighbourhood was quite inert:

Dr. Irvine, again, used the purple only, and found the white inert.

The European and native doctors, who knew the two plants, all gave

the preference to the white; except Dr. Irvine, whose experience over

various parts of India is entitled to great weight.

_March_ 29.--Dropped down the river, experiencing a succession

of east and north-east winds during the whole remainder of the

voyage. These winds are very prevalent throughout the month of March,

and they rendered the passage in my sluggish boat sufficiently

tedious. In other respects I had but little bad weather to complain

of: only one shower of rain occurred, and but few storms of thunder

and lightning. The stream is very strong, and its action on the

sand-banks conspicuous. All night I used to hear the falling cliffs

precipitated with a dull heavy splash into the water,--a pretty

spectacle in the day-time, when the whirling current is seen to carry

a cloud of white dust, like smoke, along its course.

The Curruckpore hills, the northern boundary of the gneiss and

granite range of Paras-nath, are seen first in the distance, and then

throwing out low loosely timbered spurs towards the river; but no

rock or hill comes close to the banks till near Monghyr, where two

islets of rock rise out of the bed of the river. They are of

stratified quartz, dipping, at a high angle, to the south-east; and,

as far as I could observe, quite barren, each crowned with a little

temple. The swarm of boats from below Patna to this place was

quite incredible.

_April_ 1.--Arrived at Monghyr, by far the prettiest town I had

seen on the river, backed by a long range of wooded hills,--detached

outliers of which rise in the very town. The banks are steep, and

they appear more so owing to the fortifications, which are extensive.

A number of large, white, two-storied houses, some very imposing, and

perched on rounded or conical hills, give a European aspect to

the place.

Monghyr is celebrated for its iron manufactures, especially of

muskets, in which respect it is the Birmingham of Bengal. Generally

speaking, these weapons are poor, though stamped with the first

English names. A native workman will, however, if time and sufficient

reward be given, turn out a first rate fowling-piece. The inhabitants

are reported to be sad drunkards, and the abundance of toddy-palms

was quite remarkable. The latter, (here the _Phoenix sylvestris,)

I never saw wild, but it is considered to be so in N.W. India; it is

still a doubtful point whether it is the same as the African species.

In the morning of the following day I went to the hot springs of

Seeta-koond (wells of Seeta), a few miles south of the town.

Illustration -- MONGHYR ON THE GANGES, WITH THE CURROCKPORE HILLS IN

THE DISTANCE.

The hills are hornstone and quartz, stratified and dipping southerly

with a very high angle; they are very barren, and evidently identical

with those on the south bank of the Soane; skirting, in both cases,

the granite and gneiss range of Paras-nath. The alluvium on the banks

of the Ganges is obviously an aqueous deposit subsequent to the

elevation of these hills, and is perfectly plane up to their bases.

The river has its course through the alluvium, like the Soane.

The depth of the former is in many places upwards of 100 feet, and

the kunker pebbles it contains are often disposed in parallel

undulating bands. It nowhere contains sand pebbles or fossils;

concretions of lime (kunker) alone interrupting its uniform

consistence. It attains its greatest thickness in the valleys of the

Ganges and the Soane, gradually sloping up to the Himalaya and

Curruckpore hills on either flank. It is, however, well developed on

the Kymore and Paras-nath hills, 1200 to 1500 feet above the Ganges

valley, and I have no doubt was deposited in very deep water, when

the relative positions of these mountains to the Ganges and Soane

valleys were the same that they are now. Like every other part of the

surface of India, it has suffered much from denudation, especially on

the above-named mountains, and around their bases, where various

rocks protrude through it. Along the Ganges again, its surface is an

unbroken level between Chunar and the rocks of Monghyr. The origin of

its component mineral matter must be sought in the denudation of the

Himalayas within a very recent geological period. The contrast

between the fertility of the alluvium and the sterility of the

protruded quartzy rocks is very striking, cultivation running up to

these fields of stones, and suddenly stopping.

Unlike the Soorujkoond hot-springs, those of Seetakoond rise in a

plain, and were once covered by a handsome temple. All the water is

collected in a tank, some yards square, with steps leading down to

it. The water, which is clear and tasteless (temp. 104 degrees), is

so pure as to be exported copiously, and the Monghyr manufactory of

soda-water presents the anomaly of owing its purity to Seeta's

ablutions.

On my passage down the river I passed the picturesque rocks of

Sultangunj; they are similar to those of Monghyr, but very much

larger and loftier. One, a round-headed mass, stands on the bank,

capped with a triple-domed Mahommedan tomb, palms, and figs.

The other, which is far more striking, rises isolated in the bed of

the river, and is crowned with a Hindoo temple, its pyramidal cone

surmounted with a curious pile of weathercocks, and two little

banners. The current of the Ganges is here very strong, and runs in

deep black eddies between the rocks.

Though now perhaps eighty or a hundred yards from the shore, the

islet must have been recently a peninsula, for it retains a portion

of the once connecting bank of alluvium, in the form of a short

flat-topped cliff, about thirty feet above the water. Some curious

looking sculptures on the rocks are said to represent Naragur (or

Vishnu), Suree and Sirooj; but to me they were quite unintelligible.

The temple is dedicated to Naragur, and inhabited by Fakirs; it is

the most holy on the Ganges.

_April_ 5.--I arrived at Bhagulpore, and took up my quarters

with my friend Dr. Grant, till he should arrange my dawk for Sikkim.

The town has been supposed to be the much-sought Palibothra, and a

dirty stream hard by (the Chundum), the Eranoboas; but Mr. Ravenshaw

has now brought all existing proofs to bear on Patna and the Soane.

It is, like most hilly places in India, S. of the Himalaya, the seat

of much Jain worship; and the temples on Mount Manden,* [For the

following information about Bhagulpore and its neighbourhood, I am

indebted chiefly to Col. Francklin's essay in the Asiatic Researches;

and the late Major Napleton and Mr. Pontet.] a few miles off, are

said to have been 540 in number. At the assumed summer-palaces of the

kings of Palibothra the ground is covered with agates, brought from

the neighbouring hills, which were, in a rough state, let into the

walls of the buildings. These agates perfectly resemble the Soane

pebbles, and they assist in the identification of these flanking

hills with those of the latter river.

Again, near the hills, the features of interest are very numerous.

The neighbouring mountains of Curruckpore, which are a portion of the

Rajmahal and Paras-nath range, are peopled by tribes representing the

earliest races of India, prior to the invasion of young Rama, prince

of Oude, who, according to the legend, spread Brahminism with his

conquests, and won the hand of King Jannuk's daughter, Seeta, by

bending her father's bow. These people are called Coles, a

middle-sized, strong, very dark, and black-haired race, with thick

lips: they have no vocation but collecting iron from the soil, which

occurs abundantly in nodules. They eat flesh, whether that of animals

killed by themselves, or of those which have died a natural death,

and mix with Hindoos, but not with Mussulmen. There are other tribes,

vestiges of the Tamulian race, differing somewhat in their rites from

these, and approaching, in their habits, more to Hindoos; but all are

timorous and retiring.

The hill-rangers, or Bhagulpore-rangers, are all natives of the

Rajmahal hills, and form a local corps maintained by the Company for

the protection of the district. For many years these people were

engaged in predatory excursions, which, owing to the nature of the

country, were checked with great difficulty. The plan was therefore

conceived, by an active magistrate in the district, of embodying a

portion into a military force, for the protection of the country from

invasions of their own tribes; and this scheme has answered perfectly.

To me the most interesting object in Bhagulpore was the Horticultural

Gardens, whose origin and flourishing condition are due to the

activity and enterprise of the late Major Napleton, commander of the

hill-rangers. The site is good, consisting of fifteen acres, that

were, four years ago, an indigo field, but form now a smiling garden.

About fifty men are employed; and the number of seeds and vegetables

annually distributed is very great. Of trees the most conspicuous are

the tamarind, _Tecoma jasminoides, Erythrina, Adansonia,

Bombax,_ teak, banyan, peepul, _Sissoo, Casuarina, Terminalia,

Melia, Bauhinia._ Of introduced species English and Chinese flat

peaches (pruned to the centre to let the sun in), Mangos of various

sorts, _Eugenia Jambos,_ various Anonas, Litchi, Loquat and

Longan, oranges, _Sapodilla_; apple, pear, both succeeding

tolerably; various Cabool and Persian varieties of fruit-trees; figs,

grapes, guava, apricots, and jujube. The grapes looked extremely

well, but they require great skill and care in the management.

They form a long covered walk, with a row of plantains on the W.

side, to diminish the effects of the hot winds, but even with this

screen, the fruit on that side are inferior to that on the opposite

trellis. Easterly winds, again, being moist, blight these and other

plants, by favouring the abundant increase of insects, and causing

the leaves to curl and fall off; and against this evil there is no

remedy. With a clear sky the mischief is not great; under a cloudy

one the prevalence of such winds is fatal to the crop. The white ant

sometimes attacks the stems, and is best checked by washing the roots

with limewater, yellow arsenic, or tobacco-water. Numerous Cerealia,

and the varieties of cotton, sugar-cane, etc. all thrive extremely

well; so do many of our English vegetables. Cabbages, peas, and beans

are much injured by the caterpillars of a _Pontia,_ like our

English "White;" raspberries, currants, and gooseberries will not

grow at all.

The seeds were all deposited in bottles, and hung round the walls of

a large airy apartment; and for cleanliness and excellence of kind

they would bear comparison with the best seedsman's collection in

London. Of English garden vegetables, and varieties of the Indian

Cerealia, and leguminous plants, Indian corn, millets, rice, etc.,

the collections for distribution were extensive.

The manufacture of economic products is not neglected. Excellent

coffee is grown; and arrow-root, equal to the best West Indian, is

prepared, at 18s. 6d. per bottle of twenty-four ounces, about a

fourth of the price of that article in Calcutta.

In most respects the establishment is a model of what such

institutions ought to be in India; not only of real practical value,

in affording a good and cheap supply of the best culinary and other

vegetables that the climate can produce, but as showing to what

departments efforts are best directed. Such gardens diffuse a taste

for the most healthy employments, and offer an elegant resource for

the many unoccupied hours which the Englishman in India finds upon

his hands. They are also schools of gardening; and a simple

inspection of what has been done at Bhagulpore is a valuable lesson

to any person about to establish a private garden of his own.

I often heard complaints made of the seeds distributed from these

gardens not vegetating freely in other parts of India, and it is not

to be expected that they should retain their vitality unimpaired

through an Indian rainy season; but on the other hand I almost

invariably found that the planting and tending had been left to the

uncontrolled management of native gardeners, who with a certain

amount of skill in handicraft are, from habits and prejudices,

singularly unfit for the superintendence of a garden.

Himalayan Journals — Volume 1 Or, Notes of a Naturalist in Bengal, the Sikkim and Nepal Himalayas, the Khasia Mountains, etc. · 第 3 / 17 章