at once placed himself on his knees, when one of the company cut off his head with the sacrificial knife. Next morning they found they had murdered their companion in a drunken fit, and the halter staring them in the face, they had the corpse taken to the river and burned, and reported that the man died of cholera.

In the Santipoor women are observed that light female form, that slender and delicate make, that graceful shape and elegance of proportions, and that smooth, soft body, which constitute the native beauty of Bengal. They have a great repute for their hair-braiding, to which the poet has done justice in the Biddya Soondra. But Milton's 'amorous nets' are in Bharutchunder 'snaky braids.' Lively conversation, and sparkling wit, also distinguish the Santipoor women.

February 14th.-Set out for Kulna, a fine little town, nestled in the bosom of a rural and picturesque landscape. Though not so large as Santipoor, it is much more neat and elegant, and has better roads and bazars. The river formerly flowed behind the present town, where old Kulna now is. New Kulna is entirely the creation of the Rajah of Burdwan. Here he, as well as his Ranees, come to bathe on a festival, and the two places are connected by a road with bungalows, stables, and tanks every eight miles. Tieffenthaler speaks of old Kulna. The river is again deserting the new town, and its gunge or mart has considerably fallen off from its prosperity.

The first thing one goes to see in Kulna is the Rajbaree of the Rajah of Burdwan. It consists of

Kulna,—the Rajbaree and the Sumaj-baree. 23

several noble buildings and lofty temples-the latter ranged in two circles, one within the other, enclosing a large circular paved court-yard, and forming a grand amphitheatre. One of the latest temples is most elaborately carved and ornamented. There is an almshouse in which several hundreds of beggars are daily fed.

The next object is the Sumaj-baree, or House of Sepulchre, where a bone of every deceased member of the Rajah's family is deposited. The Rajah belongs to the Khetrya class, and observes the custom of preserving the ashes of the dead. He must have adopted this in imitation of the princes of Rajpootana, or, otherwise, he cannot find any authority in old Menu to sanction the proceedings. They show you here the bone of the last Rajah, wrapt up in a rich cloth. It is regarded as if the Rajah was living himself, and is placed on a velvet musnud with cushions, and silver salvers, tumblers, hookas, rose-water and uttur-holders in front of the seat, just as the late Rajah used to sit with all the paraphernalia of state about him.

February 20th.-Very bright and beautiful morn. Old Sol, the earliest riser of all, found us to have been already up and moving. There was balm in the pure river air more recruiting than all the iron tonics of allopathy. The bore used to come up as far as Nuddea in Sir William Jones's time. But there is no tide up here in our days; its force is spent below Goopteeparah, and there is only a little swell of the waters as far as Kulna. Proceeded walking along the shore, while the

boat followed us behind pulled by the tow-rope. Our pedestrian excursion this morning afforded us the opportunity of inquiring into the means and circumstances of many a rustic family. The condition of our peasantry is best known by a visit to their domiciles. From increased cultivation and from increased export of produce, the statesman may conclude the agriculturist to be thriving. But he still dwells in a ragged hut, and still lives upon the coarsest rice. He still sleeps upon a pallet of straw; and a few earthen pots, one or two brass utensils, and some scanty rags, filled with the dirt of a twelvemonth, constitute all his furniture and clothing. He still works out his existence like the beast that he drives in the field, and is a stranger to the civilization and enlightenment which have followed in the train of British rule.

Near Mirzapore was to have been dug a canal from that place to Rajmahal, proposed by the Military Board some twenty years ago. The village is still situated 'on a beautiful arm of the river, and presents some of the most enchanting rural scenery that one has to see in India.' By nine o'clock, a little wind sprung up, and the boat flew onwards like a merry falcon on the pinions of the breeze. Before noon we cleared many a winding and shifting of the river, and came in sight of the far-famed, the classic, and the holy town of Nuddea.

Throughout Bengal, Nuddea is celebrated as the great seat of Hindoo learning and orthodoxy-the most sacred place of Hindoo retreat. The Choitunya Bhagbut states:No place is equal to Nuddea in earth,

because Choitunya was there incarnated. No one can tell the wealth of Nuddea. If people read, in Nuddea they find the ras of learning, and the number of students is innumerable.' Indeed, the past of Nuddea raises very high expectations-but the present of it disappoints a man in the extreme. It is not found to be that hoary old town, with venerable ruins and vestiges, a crowd of temples and buildings of all epochs, a thick and ancient population, time-honoured toles and colleges in every street, and numbers of learned Turkolunkas and Nyaruttuns, which one has reason to expect from its antiquity extending at the least over a period of six to seven hundred years. Nothing of the kind meets the eye, but a rural town of small size, with a little nucleus of habitations, and a community of Brahmins, rather busy in seeking for bread than in acquiring a profitless learning. The caprices and changes of the river have not left a trace of old Nuddea. It is now partly chur land, and partly the bed of the stream that flows to the north of the town. The Ganges formerly held a westerly course, and old Nuddea was on the same side with Krishnagur. Fifty years ago was swept away by the river, and the handsome Mahomedan College,' that, in 1805, says Lord Valentia, was for three hours in sight, and bore from us at every point of the compass during the time,' has been washed away and ingulfed in the stream.

Modern Nuddea, or Nabadweep, however, is situated in a delightful spot. The Bhagiruttee and Jellingy here meet together their sister streams, and flow with

an united volume of waters through a tract of the highest rural beauty. The town is now surrounded by bleak, desolate sand-banks; but, during the rains, it floats as a beautiful green islet on the bosom of an expansive sheet of water.

The earliest tradition relating to Nuddea states that two hermits of Billogram and Dhattigram retired here, when it was covered by a dense mass of jungles, to prosecute their studies in the recesses of its solitude. They attracted a number of learned men to the spot, whose fervent zeal in the pursuit of learning so pleased the goddess Seraswatee that she deigned to pay a visit to her votaries.

From other mouths we heard the following account of the circumstances that first led to the occupation and rise of Nuddea. A Hindoo monarch of the name of Kasinauth, having set out upon a party of pleasure, happened to come down the river as far as Nudden. It was then overgrown by jungle, and scarcely known to any individual. But the Rajah was so much charmed with the romantic spot, that he at once resolved upon making it the capital of his kingdom. His resolution was no sooner taken than orders were given to clear the jungles, and to erect a palace for his abode. Rajah Kasinauth removed hither with his court, and brought over with him three families of Brahmins, and nine husbandmen to people his newly-founded capital.

Ridiculous!—to found a capital and people it only with a dozen of men. Besides, no Rajah under the name of Kasinauth is mentioned in history. The