The worship of Brahma, according to the doctrines enunciated by Brahma's own lips in the Vedas, or holy books, took its rise in the adoration paid to the powers of nature, regarded as so many divinities, especially in the exalted transcendentalism of their ideas respecting the sun, the moon, the stars, and the firmament. Thence was readily developed the belief in a sole, eternal, Almighty Creator and Ruler of the world, Brahma, represented as having four faces looking to the four quarters of the globe, and reposing on a swan. This simple monotheistic belief was gradually developed into the divine manifestation of Brahma as a Triune divinity, namely, as the Creating power (Brahma), the preserving power (Vishnù), and the destroying, and at the same time renewing, energy of nature (Siva).

Although the revelation of Brahma has long since been completed, while Vishnù and Siva are still active agencies in the world as Supporter and Augmenter respectively, Brahma is assigned a very inferior rank in the worship of the masses, although, according to the lawgiver Menù, the Moses of India, he created the Brahmins out of the substance of his head, to guide and instruct man; from his arms the Chetriyas, to protect and defend him; from his trunk the Veisigas, to nourish and support him; and, lastly, from his feet the Sadras, to serve and be the property of all the other castes.

To Brahma, the fulness of whose existence no earthly notions can embrace, there are no temples dedicated, these being rather erected in honour of Vishnù, the Intercessor and Supporter, who manifests himself in the atmosphere and in water, and Siva the destroyer and regenerator of the various races, as also to the other divinities whom the Hindoo religion numbers by millions, although the majority of these have several names, and the lower classes are simply Avatars, that is incarnations or manifestations, of the superior deities. This peculiarity of the Hindoo religion makes it impossible correctly to classify or define Indian mythology. The god Rama, for example, is frequently named for Krishna, and the latter again for Vishnù. Vishnù, on his part, sometimes figures as Rama, when he is to destroy Ravana, the tyrant of Ceylon, or as Buddha, in order to found Buddhism. Like the Proteus of Grecian fable, the Hindoo mythology assumes a thousand different shapes,—it is, in short, Pantheism in its most perfect development.

A zealous Hindoo requires about four hours of each day to get through his religious ceremonies, these being performed at different periods, as he must bathe in the morning, at noon, and again at night, in a tank or pool before the temple, and recite certain prayers. For purposes of recognition, the two chief castes wear special marks, the worshippers of Vishnù having a trident painted on the forehead in either white or yellow, while those of Siva, on the other hand, sport three horizontal stripes, or one round spot marked with the ash of burnt sandal-wood. Many Hindoos write on their foreheads the distinguishing insignia of both Vishnù and Siva, and look thus the more strange and peculiar.

After every ablution these marks are painted afresh, and with much care upon the forehead, so that paint and rouge-boxes play an important part in a native household. No Hindoo can partake of his exclusively vegetable nutriment, if cooked in a European kitchen, such being entirely contrary to the principles of his faith. Every servant, therefore, leaves his master regularly at noon, in order to partake of his simple meal of rice and vegetables, either with his family or in one of the numerous Hindoo cook-shops. The frequent holidays of the Hindoos, of which there are twenty-one within two months, seriously interfere with trade among the natives, and still more with the instruction of the young.

Hindooism, however, appears to have lost much of its originality by constant contact with Europeans, and by the various political revolutions, and although many of these ceremonies are still kept up, and the bodies of their dead are still burned on pyres, yet the modern Hindoo has so far relaxed from his ascetic austerity, as to admit of his being employed in the various pursuits of active life. And it is not a little surprising to see these handsome, tall, brown figures, with their insignia of Vishnù or Siva marked on their foreheads, and dressed in their sweeping plaited togas of pure white, employed on the telegraph, the railway, the arsenal, and even the observatory, all which employments demand the utmost exactness and punctuality, and thus afford the most gratifying evidence of the adaptability of the Hindoo race to be impressed and to benefit by European civilization. With the exception of Major Jacob, the director of the astronomical and magnetic observatory, the whole of the employés are natives, who are not indeed employed in making the actual observations, but are found perfectly competent to compute the various calculations, and make the requisite reductions. The institution itself is at present of but little importance as a place of scientific observation, in consequence of the small support it receives, but it is to be provided with a meridian circle, similar to that in the Royal Observatory at the Cape of Good Hope, when it must become an important station. Strange to say, here, as at the Cape, there are no observations made on the Sundays, which in the course of a year gives rise to lamentable deficiencies, especially when some natural phenomenon of rare occurrence happens to fall upon a Sunday.

We were greatly surprised at the flourishing condition of the Central Museum, with which is united a Zoological Garden, both set on foot in 1851. In the spacious rooms of this stately edifice are ranged costly Indian antiquities and sculptures, inscriptions in Sanscrit, in stone, or marble slabs, antique fragments of Indian monuments,[103] as also an instructive collection of technical and ethnographical subjects, models of fortresses, ships, agricultural implements, instruments, tools, machines, and native forts. The geological department of the Museum is the weakest and poorest department; and as spirits of wine and glass jars are expensive articles in India, the greatest number of the animals, even the fish and snakes, are simply stuffed. In the garden which surrounds the museum buildings are a considerable number of cages inclosing living animals, such as monkeys, panthers, bears, giraffes, stags, gazelles, cobras, Indian hens, pigeons, marsh-birds, and singing-birds. In addition there were Aquaria with fishes arranged in groups at various spots all round the garden. Of objects of special interest there was a powerful baboon (Pithecus Satyrus), above 5 feet high, fastened to a chain in a large monkey-house, around whom were gambolling a number of smaller species, as also a number of cobras in a large box with glass sides, so that one could examine them at leisure on every side. Here we witnessed the uncomfortable spectacle of a native engaged in cleaning the panes inside the cage and directly beneath these formidable animals, which thronged around him in such numbers that he was continually compelled with one hand to resist their importunate caresses. Anyone not aware of the fact that these animals have been rendered harmless by the extraction of their poison-fangs, must experience a feeling of terror and astonishment at the sight of this brood of malign, stealthy-moving, hissing serpents, with a naked Hindoo in their midst!

Most astonishing and gratifying is the immense number of casual visitors that frequent this institution for advancing education. The book for inscribing names lying in the Museum, showed for a single month no less than 36,522 visitors, mostly natives, and this it seems has been about the average number since the foundation of the Museum. There is also a small, valuable library, which, by means of purchases, gifts, and exchanges, is being visibly added to with each year, and is accessible to visitors of all classes, the custodian and inspectors being all natives.

The Madras Literary Society, an offshoot of the Royal Asiatic Society in London, and now reckoning but a small number of associates, publishes from time to time the most valuable information as to the latest achievements of science in India, and serves in a measure as a medium by which to compare the intellectual progress of Asia and Europe. To the members of this society the naturalists of the Novara Expedition are specially beholden for their great attention during their stay in Madras, as also for their hearty participation in the objects of the Imperial Expedition as evidenced by their sending copies of their own various and useful publications.

There are in Madras numerous institutes devoted to the diffusion of useful knowledge among the masses, part founded and maintained by Government, part by private enterprise, and this liberality is the more praiseworthy that the European community of Madras does not comprise much more than 1600 persons, of whom only a very few settle any length of time. The Europeans resident here are chiefly military men and merchants, who leave the country after remaining five or ten years, as almost every one regards his stay in this hot, sandy capital of the desert Coromandel coast, as purely provisional, and views it as a stepping-stone towards attaining some better post, or becoming suddenly wealthy by some favourable conjuncture of circumstances. That the majority of these institutions have more practical objects in view admits of ready proof, and is but one instance the more of the moulding power of surrounding circumstances. In the school of arts for instance, under Dr. Hunter's superintendence, there are 20 pupils, mostly Hindoos, who are receiving instruction in drawing, sculpture, lithography, woodcutting, etching, and photography. But in order to reduce, as far as possible, the expenses of this institution, there is also included a manufacture of earthenware, the proceeds arising from the sale of which are applied to the support of the school.

Another eminently useful institution, the Medical College, which, as well as most of the other professional foundations, we visited in the company with our hospitable and influential friend, Dr. Kelly, possesses one division, in which such of the natives as purpose to set up as apothecaries, are at the same time so far educated as to be able, in case of necessity, to perform a few of the minor surgical operations. Of the hundred of an auditory who at the period of our visit were attending a lecture on chemistry, the majority were half-blooded Indians, dressed in the European fashion, with a sprinkling of barely 9 or 10 Hindoos in their white robes, and with the Vishnù or Siva marks on their forehead. We frequently heard the professors, among whom are several gentlemen of high scientific attainments, such, for instance, as Messrs. Evans, Lorimer, Mudge, Montgomery, Mayr, &c., express their regret at the severe check which the development of science sustained by the outbreak of the late revolt. Plans for a new university, a hospital, and a medical school to correspond are all ready, and but for that ruinous catastrophe would have been by this time in working order.

In other respects the present Infirmary is an ugly and unsuitable building, making up about 100 beds for patients. Several of these were occupied by soldiers, who had been severely wounded under Havelock at the storming of Delhi. The introduction of punkahs, or wind-fans, into the wards has proved so salutary, that there is an intention to have them worked without intermission day and night, by means of water power, instead of by manual labour as hitherto. In order to be able to estimate the boon conferred by such an improvement upon the condition of the poor invalids, we must call to mind that the average annual temperature of Madras is about 94° Fahr., which is slightly in excess of the average temperature at the equator, although Madras is 10 degrees north of the line. Under such climatic conditions, it is no wonder that the invigorating wholesome breeze is known at Madras as "The Doctor."

Among the benevolent institutions visited by us, we found the twin asylums for male and female orphans of soldiers well worthy of notice in many particulars. These are for the most part the offspring of European soldiers married to native women, and are known as "half-castes," or "Mestizoes." In the Military Female Asylum, there were at this time 216 girls, who were brought up to all manner of female work, as well as taught reading, writing, and arithmetic, and remained in the institution until suitably provided for in marriage. The marriage outfit, as also a small wedding present of Rs. 50 (£5), for each girl is provided by Government, and the entire working expenses, which amount to about Rs. 30,000 (£3000) annually, are defrayed by a Government grant of Rs. 1000 (£100) a month, together with the interest of the funded capital, upon which Government pays 8 per cent. interest.

The Military Male Orphan Asylum was founded in 1788 by means of voluntary contributions, supplemented by a Government Subvention, and possesses a special historical interest from the circumstance that it was here that Dr. Bell, who held the post of Head-Master in the establishment, first projected and put into execution the method of imparting elementary instruction, afterwards so widely renowned as the Lancastrian method of teaching, which since that period has traversed the globe, and has been introduced into every capital in Europe. The course of instruction of the institution includes writing, reading, arithmetic, grammar, geography, history, English, Tamil, and music. The capital of the institution is vested by Government in the 4 per cent. stocks, paying 8 per cent. interest, which, with the large amount realized within the establishment itself, is sufficient to defray all expenses without any further assistance. The number of boys is about 242. The head teacher, who obligingly conducted us over the whole establishment, which is very handsome, called a dozen boys forward just as we were leaving, who played a few simple pieces on wind instruments, on which they performed a variety of national airs with great precision. The music master was a German.

Among its casual attractions, Madras has occasionally flower shows, and exhibitions of industry, and it is exceedingly gratifying to observe how European science is even here called in to elicit the treasures of nature, and administer to the necessities of mankind. The catalogue of the industrial exhibition of 1857 shows, inter alia, 17 sorts of spices, 20 varieties of resin, 64 plants suitable for the distillation of oil, and 41 different drugs, and Dr. Kirkpatrick, a physician in Mysore, has taken the trouble to enumerate, by their botanical and Indian names, 240 native drugs, which had been sent to the Madras exhibition, as also their market value, and at the same time has subjoined the modes in which the natives use them.

Among the most remarkable private museums which have been formed at Madras for the illustration of the history and monuments of the southern provinces of the Deccan, must undoubtedly be included the collection of native inscriptions and manuscripts of the well-known Colonel Mackenzie, which first attracted the attention of all friends of Oriental science, as also the British Government, through a memoir[104] of Alexander Johnston, Esq. It is a magnificent testimony to the conservative spirit of the British resident among heathen nations, as compared with the barbarous spirit of destruction that characterized the Spanish colonists. From an erroneous idea that they were in so doing promoting the interests of Christianity, these Romanist conquerors destroyed all sculptures and monuments of the pagan Indian races, and, by this fanatical Vandalism, at the same time prevented the hand of science from unfolding, as it might have done from these important vestiges, the history of these very remarkable races from the most remote ages.

In the immense old palace, surrounded by adjacent edifices and gardens, once occupied by the King of the Coromandel coast, the renowned nabob of the Carnatic, the offices of the English Government employés are at present located. The last of these sovereigns died a few years since, and his former minister receives from the British Government a pension of Rs. 1300 (£130) a month. Great men who have fallen do not ordinarily like to be sought out or gazed at. There is, however, on the contrary, no difficulty in obtaining access to the last minister of the last monarch of the Coromandel coast, who seems to feel flattered by a visit from strangers. On our entering, the venerable old gentleman rose from a rich thick carpet, on which he was sitting cross-legged, held out his hand in the most affable manner, and did us the honour of accompanying us through the palace. He had a long white beard, and wore a white turban on his head, while his person was enveloped in white linen. A splendid staircase conducted to a council-room, adorned with a portrait of the late nabob, life-size, executed in London. A second room has a likeness of George Augustus Frederick, Prince of Wales, dedicated to his friend, Omadal-Omrah, nabob of the Carnatic, 1st January, 1797, and of Lord Cornwallis, arm in arm with a nabob, the former represented as walking among pines, the latter among palms. In the harness-room and coach-house adjoining, our obliging attendant revealed to us an endless array of golden howdah trappings, gilt with cunning hand, which seemed to have formerly borne the mighty nabob, when riding on his elephant. As we emerged from this lumber room, filled with dust and mud, we perceived in the square before us an immense dust-cloud, which approached nearer and nearer in its gyrations, and gradually assumed the shape of an elephant. It was a gigantic and magnificent specimen, and proved to be the favourite elephant of the last nabob, which, like the minister himself, was reduced to eat the bread of charity. His enormous tusks were sawn half off, for which his attendant assigned the singular reason that the tusks of an elephant must be cut, just as we pair our nails! This pensioner-elephant, however, seemed to find himself in very good quarters, and was a carefully-tended gentle creature, who carried about his chain with his proboscis, and knelt down at the word of command.

Among the other spacious apartments of this deserted palace was the banquetting hall, as it is called, which was represented by various writers as one of the largest rooms in the world, which, however, is a transparent fallacy. It is hard to believe that above a thousand persons could find room in it. At the period of our visit this apartment was used as a barrack for the English troops, in consequence of which the splendid full-length pictures already mentioned were carefully covered. One of the soldiers, anxious to show them to us, tore away the covering of one before we could interfere, when we found it to be a splendid likeness, painted in London, of Sir Thomas Monroe, a former governor of Madras.

In the first few days of our stay in Madras, we made an excursion to the fort of Vellore, distant about 80 miles (English) from Madras, formerly a renowned native fort, which is now reached in a few hours by rail. This line passes through a flat uninteresting country, which is barely relieved here and there by a couple of solitary palms or a Hindoo temple, and altogether presents a strongly African character in its scenery. Only at those points, at which there are tanks, or artificial basins, either excavated or formed by damming the water, does there occur a luxuriant green vegetation covering the parched, brown, dusty soil. These tanks are filled in the rainy season, and during the dry season, which continues for months, supply the rice-fields with water for irrigation, the culture of that plant requiring an unusually large supply of water.

If English railroads are proverbially comfortable in the mother-country, they certainly fall off lamentably in that particular in the cars used in India. This deficiency is the more provoking and remarkable, considering the various other appliances for comfort which are to be found in this country. The conductor, as well as the other servants of the Company, was a Hindoo. On the entire line we saw but five or six white men employed. The fares are pretty moderate, that for the entire distance, 80 miles, being Rupees 7½ (15s.), for first-class, and Rupees 3 (6s.), second (about 2¼d. and 1d. per mile, respectively). The line is to be extended from Bejapoor, so as to unite the eastern and western coasts of the peninsula. There are also lines projected from Madras to Bombay by Poonah and Bellary, and from Madras to Calcutta. The Governor, who (the evening previous to our departure, as we were being entertained at his summer residence, Guindy Park,) had been apprized of our intention to visit Vellore, was so attentive as to order the commandant to be informed by telegraph of our projected excursion at a late hour of the evening, and when we reached Vellore at 11 a. m., Captain Stevens was awaiting us at the station, to greet the voyagers by the Novara in the name of the commandant of the fort, and convey them to the fort, three miles off, in a waggon drawn by oxen, as is the custom of the country. The waggon was about as large as an ordinary sized sitting-room, and contained several arm-chairs and cane stools, the position of which could be altered at pleasure.

Vellore was once one of the strongest fortresses in India, the wells of which were formerly rendered inaccessible by numerous colonies of alligators. These Hindoo fortifications have, however, lost their military importance for Europeans, as they are on all sides "overcrowed," as Rittmeister Dugald Dalgetty would say, by eminences, from which they could easily be cannonaded. Within the fort itself are several extraordinary buildings, once pagodas and houses of entertainment for priests and pilgrims (choultries). The former sanctuary, now used as an arsenal, is a chef-d'œuvre of architectural skill, with splendid relievos and figures sculptured in granite blocks. Most of the divinities have four arms, symbolical of the universality of their power. The various edifices seem to have been once an abode of Brahmins, a sort of Hindoo monastery in which, in addition to the pagoda, there were ranged all round, a temple, colonnades, and halls for the residence of the priests. In some of the smaller apartments there still are openings for windows, with a finely carved grating hewn out of the solid granite, the workmanship of which even the stone-cutters of our own days might feel proud of. Captain Mitchell, an English officer stationed at Madras, had hit upon the idea of photographing the most interesting of these monuments.

The fortress of Vellore has been fortified for about 1000 years! Captured by the English at the close of the last century, the then Nabob, a Mussulman, was taken prisoner, and his descendants have ever since inhabited the fort as State prisoners, without ever being permitted to leave it. We inquired of the officer who accompanied us, whether the Nabob was permitted at least to make use of the space within the fortress for exercise in the open air. "The Mussulmen," replied the cautious Englishman, "do not care to show themselves in public; they prefer taking their exercise in the court in front of their residence, or in the garden." Accordingly, the aged prince is rarely known even to take an airing in a palanquin. The town of Vellore itself is, in a great measure, another place altogether, whose inhabitants are Mahometans, about 80,000 in number, chiefly engaged in rice culture.

We originally intended to return the same day to Madras, the length of the journey, as well as the distance of the fort from the railway station, having been represented to us as much shorter than was actually the case. Accordingly, we telegraphed to the Austrian Consul, M. Campbell, Esq., an exceedingly courteous gentleman, that we should not return till the following morning. How great was our astonishment to find that the telegraph employés at Vellore, both in the transcribing department, and in the management of the apparatus, which was on Morse's system, were Hindoos, with their curious marks upon their foreheads, and their old-fashioned costume! They went, however, through the duties connected with this modern invention with great adroitness. The telegraph is already in operation to Bombay, and in this direction has two separate lines. There are, moreover, other lines in course of construction,—along the coast to Calcutta,—along the coast to Pondicherry by Adam's Bridge,[105] from Madras to Point de Galle, and from Madras to Hyderabad, Bangalore, and Bellary.

In proceeding from the fort to the town of Vellore, which is charmingly situated and regularly laid out, and is inhabited by numerous pensioners of the East India Company, we must cross the river Palaar (or Peliar), which, during the rainy season, is a headlong dangerous torrent, while in the dry season its bed, 1000 feet wide, is but a bare expanse of sand. It is only by dint of strenuous exertions that the traveller is able to pass this sand waste in a waggon, as it sinks at some points above the hubs of the wheels. We had four buffalo oxen yoked, and even then had to be propelled at certain points by the assistance of some 30 coolies or Indian porters besides. This serious inconvenience was shortly after our visit to be remedied by the erection of a splendid bridge of solid masonry, which was to span the river by 42 arches, and will reduce the time of transit from the station from 1¼ hour to 20 minutes. Hereabouts oxen are usually employed for draught, which are of the same humped species as those we had previously seen in Ceylon. These animals trot with uncommon swiftness, so that the rapidity of transport may stand comparison with that where horses are employed.

A few miles distant from Vellore, and visible from the hills around, lies Arcot (Arucati), the residence of the nominal nabob of the Carnatic, who has long been a pensioner of the British. The population of Arcot are mostly Mahometans, who speak a dialect of Hindustani, and drive a very active trade.

At Vellore we resided in the house of the hospitable Lieut.-Colonel McCally, who, in the absence of the Commandant, did the honours of the Fort to the members of the Novara Expedition. Here we experienced a most cordial reception, and passed a few most delightful hours in the domestic circle of his amiable family. In the evening we made out an excursion to an adjoining eminence, 1400 feet above sea-level, 300 above Vellore, from which there is a commanding view over the town and neighbourhood. Seen from this point, the Fort looked charming, presenting itself to us, surrounded as it is by moats and watercourses, like an island in the foreground. On the top of this hill is the bungalow or country-seat of the collector of revenue, W. A. Sulivan, Esq., where we revelled in the enjoyment of the exquisite natural scenery, and partook of refreshment.

In the evening a number of officers, with their wives, met us at dinner at Lieut.-Colonel McCally's house. The gaieties were prolonged till far in the evening, music and songs alternating with round games and dancing, so that we had hardly composed ourselves to sleep ere we were awakened by the servants, in order to avoid missing the train, which leaves Vellore for Madras at 6.30 a. m. By 11 a. m., we were once more in the chief city of the Carnatic.

The same afternoon the officers of the Novara, and the naturalists of the Expedition, were invited to an Indian fête, which Lord Harris gave every year at this season in his palace at Guindy Park, and to which it was customary to invite the majority of the European residents at Madras, together with their families,—military, civil service, and mercantile community, all being honoured with cards. This festival originated in a children's entertainment, which the governor had been in the habit of giving on the birthday of his son; the latter had long since gone to an English University, but the custom had survived, and the day was equally carefully observed this year also, having been looked forward to for months before by the "white" young folks of Madras. The entertainment still retains the character of a children's party, inasmuch as on the present occasion there were assembled above 250 children of both sexes, varying from 5 to 12 years of age. The total number of guests who, in addition to these, shared in the festivities was probably more than a thousand. The fête began with the performances of some 30 Indian jugglers and acrobats, on a large lawn in the park. These, as may be conceived, had been selected from among the most athletic and skilful. They presented a singularly-picturesque appearance, from the diversities of age, agile boys, athletic young men, slender voluptuous-looking Bayadères, old grey-headed men, and marvellous-looking old hags, with streaming white hair, and dark, piercing, gleaming eyes, recalling in their manners and appearance our own gipsies. All played at once, and performed with the most astonishing precision a succession of breakneck feats, that set the spectator's hair on end. It was a spectacle entirely sui generis, thoroughly Indian in short, to behold these wild-looking brown figures, unawed by the presence they were in, going through their various performances and feats of agility. In front of us knelt an old man who played with a dozen knives, which he kept circling around him with wild yells, apparently without looking at them, till he finally turned them in such a manner that it seemed as though the sharp points of the knives had transfixed his hand. Next youthful acrobats sprang through paper balloons set on fire,—girls in boys' dresses climbed up bamboo poles 100 feet high, in the midst of continual yells,—boys executed on the damp meadow ground the most extraordinary feats of agility and contortions of the limbs, while one old fellow, to the intense astonishment of the assembled children, swallowed swords, as also tow and other combustible matter, whereupon flames presently seemed to issue from his month. These, indeed, are feats of conjuring which have been performed in Europe, usque ad nauseam, but here all was done with such precision and dexterity (each man especially playing entirely con amore, evidently not to impress the spectators, but because he felt a pleasure in it himself), that the whole exhibition left quite a different impression from anything of the sort elsewhere.

After this introductory amusement, the children invited were regaled with a refection under an enormous tent. This was for the grown-up guests another source of great amusement. More than 300 children took their seats at a long well-covered table, while their fathers, mothers, governesses, &c., stood behind the benches, and took special care to supply the little watering mouths with a sufficient supply of the many delicacies before them.

A distribution of souvenirs to the various children present succeeded the repast, the various articles being fastened to a gigantic tree under a tent. The tree was profusely hung with elegant paper lamps, and although there were no pine-branches, only palm leaves, the "tout ensemble," bore a strong resemblance to a genuine Christmas tree. Fathers and mothers expressed to us their own feelings of pleasure at beholding the glee of their children, and, indeed, seemed to think this the most entertaining part of the fête. The distribution lasted a considerable time, and many of the children affected to coquette disparagingly with the presents of their neighbours, which these latter held fast with both hands, till at length the whole joyous train were dismissed homewards, thoroughly pleased with the day's proceedings.

After this interlude there were fireworks on the lawn for the grown-up children, which seemed intended to serve merely as a stop-gap to while away the time between the distribution of the presents to the children and the supper, which was laid out in the brilliantly-illuminated dining-room of the palace. The fine band, which a few days previously had so pleased us by its performances during dinner at Guindy Park, drew up on the large lawn fronting the ball-room, and during this interval played a few select pieces with admirable precision. At last, supper was announced by a flourish of trumpets. Despite the spacious proportions of the apartment, the company was too numerous to admit of all sitting down at once. We calculated the number of guests still remaining at at least 500. The ladies supped first, and afterwards the gentlemen—the Governor, Lord Harris, doing the honours in person, in the most courteous and kindly manner. After supper the party proceeded in couples to a splendid ball-room, where dancing speedily began, while over their heads an omnipresent punkah, of rich tapestry-paper, and elegantly adorned with beautiful arabesques, swung to and fro, and kept the half-breathless dancers continually fanned by its currents of air.[106] In spite, however, of this artificial ventilating machine overhead, one must have had an extraordinary love for the dance to find pleasure in a polka or galop at a temperature of 86° of Fahrenheit.

Lord Harris had taken measures for ensuring our proceeding direct from his residence in Guindy Park upon the favourite excursion from Madras—that, namely, to the Seven Pagodas. We had accordingly provided ourselves with only what was indispensable in the way of luggage; and towards 1 a. m., we left the ball-room, and proceeded on our way to the renowned Hindoo Temples to the south of Madras. A waggon conveyed us to the Adyar bridge, where a Government boat was in waiting for us, together with some Hindoo servants of the Governor, who were to be our guides to the Seven Pagodas. One of these peons, as they are called in India, named Iritschapa, presented us with a document, in which he was commissioned to place himself at our disposal during the whole period we were absent, and anticipate all our requirements without further authorization, to the best of his ability, so as to ensure our comfort and assist the objects we had in view. The Government boat was supplied with everything that could minister to our comfort, a second boat following us exclusively for the conveyance of our heavy baggage, personal effects, tents, and provisions. Towards 2 a. m., we embarked on the Eastern Coast Canal, which goes as far as Sadras, and by which we reached the Seven Pagodas, called also Mahamalaipuram, the city of the Great or Holy Mountain, at 9 a. m.

These singular and majestic specimens of architecture are about 3 miles from Sadras, being situated on the coast northwards, and about 500 paces from the canal. They consist of temples, grottoes, bas-reliefs, cisterns, stone-benches, and thousands of sculptures in long ranges of bas-reliefs, which afford an abundant store of antiquarian research. They go by the name of the Seven Pagodas (from Baghavati—Holy House, whence the European corruption, Pagoda), from the circumstance, that there are, upon the very brink of the ocean, seven temples hewn out of one piece of rock. The Brahminical legends speak of an entire city having existed here, of which only the fragments are now washed by the sea. But, according to Babington's and Heber's minute researches in this neighbourhood,[107] there seems no doubt that there never existed any large city here, but that the whole was a mere myth of the Brahmins, who procured a royal gift, an Agrabaram in this neighbourhood, and with subtle forethought left here a caste of stone-cutters, who from time to time, under the guidance of their priests, executed these sculptures for the adornment of their sanctuary, which are justly the objects of wonder to their descendants. To this day, even, there dwell here certain families of stone-cutters, who work these singular rocks as granite quarries, and make money by the trade. The Seven Pagodas, specially so-called, are monolith temples, hewn on the spot out of massive blocks of rock. The mountain itself, a huge block of granite, to which the entire locality owes its reputation as a site of works of art, is covered, behind as well as in the front slope, with innumerable figures.

After our arrival, we made a hasty circuit through the place, so as first of all to be able to identify them, and be in a position to recognize the various sculptures and bas-reliefs cut out in the solid granite rock. The greater number of the sculptures represent either the one or the other descriptions of the Avatars (the incarnations or transfigurations) of Vishnù, to whom the larger proportion of the temples is dedicated. In one of these temples, we perceived the god Vishnù in the fifth, or Dwarf Incarnation, in the course of which he had, under the guise of a Brahminical dwarf, begged of King Balitscha-Kravathi—who, by his piety, had acquired so much power over the gods, that they had to transfer to him the dominion of sea and land, and had in consequence waxed arrogant—as much soil as he could traverse in three steps! The wealthy Rajah made no objection to complying with the apparently moderate request of the pigmy being before him. On the opposite wall of the temple we now see, in a large admirably executed bas-relief, how Vishnù, represented on this occasion with eight arms, at once embraced heaven and earth with his left foot, and as there was thus no more room left for the next step, Vishnù released the haughty Rajah from his promise, on condition that he should descend to the infernal regions. From this feat, Vishnù bears the name of Triwikrama and Tripadas (thrice-stepper).

In the next rock grotto we came to, we beheld the Life of Krishna, the shepherd-god, represented, first as tending his sheep, surrounded by cows, goats frisking about, &c. Walter Elliot names this representation "Krischna's Choultry," or the abode of the priests. The temple has a frontage of 50 feet, is from 30 to 40 feet in depth, and has about twenty figures.

From this spot, our guide, a Brahmin, brought us to what is called the Ganeza Temple, a monolith Pagoda. When we expressed a wish to touch the face of Ganeza (a son of Siva), cut in stone and plentifully besmeared with oil and lard, one of the Hindoo attendants hurried forwards to prevent us from being guilty of insult to this much-beloved divinity. The inscription to the right, in front of the niche in which Ganeza, hewn out of a single block of granite, is represented in a sitting posture, consists of verses and prayers to Siva, written in Sanscrit.

As we were proceeding to the beach, we came upon the Pagoda of Kovulgobrom, which is at present in use (first constructed in the days of Rajah Apatsch, 400 or 500 years since), situated on a large oblong plot of ground, which is surrounded by a wall from 6 to 8 feet high. We were not permitted to cross the threshold of the pagoda, the door of which always stands wide open, and the minor apartments of which, so far as we could discern at a little distance away, were quite empty. We could just descry a few sculptures on the walls.

The whole village contains at present about 400 inhabitants,[108] who reside in eighty small dwellings. Of these, three, built of bricks and with tiled roofs, belong to the caste of Brahmins, thirty to the Pariahs, five to families occupied in fishing, and two mere hovels of palm-wood to the Willis, the lowest and most wretched caste of all. The families of stone-cutters reside outside the village. One remarks here that the walls of the houses are hidden by heaps of cow and horse-dung, which the inhabitants, as in Egypt, use for fuel, and which they pile up to dry against those of the walls which are most exposed to the sun. The peon of the settlement, by name Randghajaneik, a sort of overseer, gave us a drawing of the various groups of houses, their inhabitants, and also the names of the various castes in Tamil, engraved as usual with an iron tool upon palm-leaves, and very elegantly rolled up in a small envelope. Among the customs and fashions of the inhabitants which attracted our notice, we were informed that they always burn their dead from four to five hours after life has departed—usually four hours and forty minutes—alleging that the released soul takes that length of time to reach heaven! The bones are collected and thrown into the sea. Widows are no longer required, on the death of their husbands, to ascend the pyre with them. Accordingly, the mortality upon this score is small enough in Mahamalaipuram. All seem hale and hearty, although for the most part they live upon rice and fruits, tasting flesh but seldom, as it is never used by the Brahmin caste. The Brahmins will not even eat eggs, because they are the produce of hens; nor drink milk because it is procured from cows! The girls generally marry at thirteen. They are, however, usually betrothed from the time they are two or three years of age, the bridegroom-elect taking the bride-elect to reside with himself.