any book of authority which declares that, of these, "three millions are evil and the rest good," thus "strikingly acknowledging the beneficence of the ruling Deity." It is again quite a mistake to suppose that the more intellectual of the professors of Hinduism understand it as a system of monotheism. Everywhere the intelligent Hindus are either idolators or pantheists. The only exceptions are those who have received an English education; but who too generally, afraid to act up to their convictions, maintain outwardly at least, all the forms and ceremonies enjoined by Puranic idolatry. Our traveller having spent a week in Bombay, prepared for a journey to Agra direct. The road by Indore, along which the telegraph has since been erected, is even to this day, but little used by European travellers, beyond Nassik. The country is to a great extent covered with jungle, and is but thinly populated. Very little is known of its character; and as Mr. Taylor has described his progress in a very vivid and picturesque manner, we shall give several extracts from his journal. We consider the narrative of his journey over this part of India, one of the most interesting portions of his book. The only mode of conveyance that was at all available for a road so little used, was a banghy-cart, a mere box on wheels; without cover above, and without springs below. Though it cost him considerable suffering, Mr. Taylor accomplished the journey in safety. After crossing the islands of Bombay and Salsette, he traversed the plain lying between the western Ghauts and the sea, and then began to ascend into the hills : : "Khurdee lies at the base of the Ghauts, and our road now plunged into a wild, hilly region, covered with jungle. The road was broad, but very rough, and so steep that nothing but the emigrant trail over the Sierra Nevada could equal it. At the worst descents, my conductor called upon the aid of half a dozen bullock-drivers, who seized the shafts and pushed backward with all their force. Our progress was still further hindered by the endless throng of bullocks which we met. They were laden with bags of rice and of grain, and bales of cotton, and on their way downward to the coast. Between Khurdee and Kussara, a distance of twelve miles, we must have passed from fifteen to twenty thousand of them. * * * * "We were nearly four hours in making the twelve miles over the pass of Rudtoondee, and then came down upon Kussara, a little village situated in a dell at the foot of the Tull Ghaut. The highest parapet of the range was now above us, and the final ascent to the table-land commenced. The physical formation of this part of India very much resembles that of the Western Coast of Mexico. The summit level is nearly uniform, but instead of presenting a mural front, it thrusts out projecting spurs or headlands, and is cloven by deep gorges. Sharp peaks rise here and there from the general level, formed of SEPT., 1857, G abrupt but gradually diminishing terraces, crowned by domes or towers of naked rock. At a distance, they bear an extraordinary resemblance to works of art, and what is very striking, to the ancient temples of the Hindus. Is this an accidental resemblance, or did not the old races in reality get their forms of architecture directly from Nature? It is certainly a striking coincidence that all the hills in the Nubian Desert should be pyramids, and all the peaks of the Indian Ghauts pagodas. The word ghaut means a flight of steps, as the Ghauts are a succession of terraces descending from the tableland to the sea; and every principal Hindu temple is approached by a ghaut. The formation of the summits is a characteristic of Indian scenery. Tennyson, who, I believe, has never been in India, describes in two lines the most peculiar aspects of the country: "And over hills with peaky tops engrailed, "There is a splendid artificial road leading up the Tull Ghaut. As a piece of engineering, it will vie with some of the best roads in Europe. The grade is so slight that we drove all the way on a fast trot; and the windings around the sides of the gorge gave me grand views of the lower terraces of the Ghauts. At the top, we entered on the great table-land of Central India. It was an open, undulating region, much better cultivated than any I had yet seen, and crossed, at intervals of twenty to thirty miles, by high ranges of hills. The air was drier and purer than below, and the setting sun shone broad and warm over tracts of wheat and sugar-cane. We rolled along merrily, through the twilight and into the darkness again, and towards nine o'clock came to the large town and military station of Nassick. * * ** "All the rest of the night we travelled slowly along, through a rolling country, and about nine next morning reached Chandore, only forty-five miles from Nassick, Chandore is a walled town, situated in a hollow at the foot of the Chandore Ghaut. It boasts several Hindu temples of dark stone, but none of them remarkable for size or beauty. The grotesque idols, their faces smeared with red paint, were visible through the open door. * * * * "We crossed the Chandore Ghaut by a wild pass, half way up which stands a pagoda, so old and black that it might properly belong to the Yezidees or Devil-Worshippers. Beyond the Ghaut we came upon a waste, hilly region, entirely covered with thorny jungle. "All this part of India reminded me strongly of the table-land of Mexico. There are the same broad, sweeping plains, gashed by deep ravines and gullies; the same barren chains of hills, and the same fertile dips of lowland, rich in corn and cane. I passed through more than one landscape, where, if I had been brought blindfold and asked to guess where I was, I should have declared at once: "This is Mexico." Substitute the words nulla for " arroyo," (gully,) ghaut for "sierra," and jungle for " chapparal," and you change a description of the Mexican into that of the Indian table-land. I must admit, however, that, in general, Mexican scenery is on a broader and grander scale than here. "The resemblance to Mexico, however, does not extend to the towns and population, which are rather those of Egypt. The Indian native is darker than the Egyptian Fellah, and has a more acute and lively face, but in his habits and manners he has much in common with the latter. He has the same natural quickness of intellect, the same capacity for deception, the same curious mixture of impudence and abject servility, and the same disregard of clothing." After passing the military station of Malligaum, and meeting with a hospitable welcome at Doolia, where he obtained a night's rest, our traveller met with a series of accidents in troublesome horses and broken axles. Advancing slowly, he at last approached the valley of the Nerbudda, and crossed that wellknown stream: "Soon after leaving Palasnehr, the road crossed the Sindwah Ghaut, a range of hills about six miles in breadth and covered with jungle. Beyond them opened the valley of the Nerbudda; the Vindhya Mountains, on the opposite side, though fifty miles distant, were dimly visible. Between lay a wild waste of jungle, almost uninhabited, a reservoir of deadly malaria, and a paradise for panthers and tigers. * "About Sindwah the jungle is close, composed of thick clumps of shrubbery and small trees, with here and there a magnificent banyan or peepul tree towering over it. In the valley of the Nerbudda, there are many banyans, and some of great size. Few trees present grander masses of foliage than this. Instead of a low roof of boughs, resting on its pillared trunks, as I had supposed, it sends up great limbs to the height of a hundred, or even a hundred and fifty feet, and the new trunks are often dropped from boughs thirty feet high. They hang like parcels of roots from the ends of the boughs, and when broken off and prevented from reaching the earth, continue to increase and become woody like the trunk. I have seen a tree on which huge half-trunks, that had never reached the earth, hung from the branches like the fragments of shattered pillars, hanging from the roof of an Egyptian rock-temple. The leaves of the banyan are large, glossy and dark-green, and in the winter the foliage is studded with buds of a bright purple color. The only other large trees that I remarked, were the sycamore (peepul) and the tamarind. The acacia and mimosa are occasionally met with, and the date and brab palms thrive in the valleys. The tamarind frequently rivals the banyan in size, while its foliage is wonderfully graceful and delicate. ** * * "The people made many observations, but all availed nothing, till at last one of them rose and beckoned me to follow him. We went down to the Nerbudda, which is a beautiful river, a third of a mile wide, crossed the ferry, and behold! there stood a new cart, and there lay a new driver, asleep in the sun! "The road was tolerable, I could now sit without holding on, and thus the journey became pleasant again. The valley of the Nerbudda is very rich and fertile, the soil resembling the black loam of Egypt. We passed many fields of flax, covered with blue and white flowers wheat, cotton, tobacco and poppies, besides small patches of sugar-cane. All seemed to thrive equally well. But a small proportion of the soil is cultivated, and it is no exaggeration to say, that the valley might be made to support a hundredfold its present popu lation. We now approached the picturesque Vindhya Mountains, one of the summits of which was crowned with a white building-the tomb of a Moslem Saint, as well as I could understand the driver. The road passes the mountains, at a place formerly called Ghara, but now Kintrey's Ghaut, in honor of the engineer. It is, indeed, admirably planned, though somewhat out of repair. The summit, which separates the waters of the two sides of India, overlooks a waste and bleak country. Soon after descending the northern side, we crossed the head-waters of the Chumbul, the largest affluent of the Jumna. At eight o'clock I reached the military station of Mhow, within fourteen miles of Indore, and was so well satisfied that I allowed the driver to stop for the night. "Mhow is a handsome station, the officers' bungalows, surrounded with small gardens, being scattered over an extent of two miles. It stands on a dry plain, 2,000 feet above the sea, and is considered a very healthy place of residence." The first half of his journey was completed at Indore, which he thus describes. The description has acquired new interest from the events which have recently taken place within the walls of that city: "Indore is a town of about 60,000 inhabitants, having been much increased within a few years by the tyranny of the Begum of Oodjein, a holy old city about eighty miles distant, many of the inhabitants of which have emigrated to the former place. Portions of Indore are well built, reminding me somewhat of Konia, and other places in the interior of Asia Minor. The houses are generally of wood, two stories high, the upper story projecting and resting on pillars, so as to form a verandah below. The pillars and the heavy cornice above them are of dark wood, and very elaborately carved. In the centre of the town is the Rajah's palace, fronting a small square. It is a quadrangle of about four hundred feet to a side, the portion over the main gateway rising to the height of eighty or ninety feet, and visible for many miles around. The architecture is Saracenic, though not of a pure style. The gateway, however, and the balconies over it, are very elegant; and the main court, surrounded by fifty pillars of dark wood, connected by ornate horse-shoe arches, has a fine effect. The outer walls are covered with pictures of elephants, horses, tigers, Englishmen and natives, drawn and colored with the most complete disregard of nature." Safely arrived in Agra, our author, under the guidance of a countryman, one of the American Missionaries, visited of course the whole of the lions of that city. They are so well-known that little need be said of them here, though he has described them well. The fort with its lofty sandstone walls; the palace of Akbar, covering a large space of ground, and including numerous objects of special interest; the arsenal, with all its array of bristling cannon, its hall of trophies, and the Somnath Gates; the Moti Musjid, so exquisitely beautiful, and yet so severely simple; the Jumma Musjid; the narrow bazar leading from the fort, with its carved verandahs, overhanging balconies and beautiful Saracenic arches, reminding one of Cairo; the tomb of Akbar at Secundra; the Secundra Mission Press in the great tomb of Munni Begum; the great jail and its indefatigable superintendent Dr. Walker; the tomb of Ettimaud-Daola, the father of Nourmahál; the Rambagh; and above all, the Taj,-taken together, form an assemblage of objects, each valuable in itself, of which any city might be proud, and which few cities in India can excel. Only Delhi can-perhaps we should rather say, could-afford a comparison. The following is Mr. Taylor's description of the palace "Beyond the arsenal, and in that part of the fort overlooking the Jumna, is the monarch's palace, still in a tolerable state of preservation. Without a ground-plan it would be difficult to describe in detail its many courts, its separate masses of buildings and its detached pavilions-which combine to form a labyrinth, so full of dazzling architectural effects, that it is almost impossible to keep the clue. On entering the outer courts, I was at once reminded of the Alhambra. Here were the same elegant Moorish arches, with their tapering bases of open filigree work resting on slender double shaftsa style so light, airy and beautiful, that it seems fit only for a palace of fairies. Akbar's palace is far more complete than the Alhambra. No part has been utterly destroyed, and the marks of injury by time and battle, are comparatively slight. Here a cannon-ball has burst its way through the marble screen of the Sultana's pavilion ; there an inlaid blossom of cornelian, with leaves of blood-stone, has been wantonly dug out of its marble bed; the fountains are dry, the polished tank in the "Bath of Mirrors" is empty, the halls are untenanted-but this is all. No chamber, no window or staircase is wanting, and we are able to re-people the palace with the household of the great Emperor, and to trace out the daily routine of his duties and pleasures. 66 The substructions of the palace are of red sandstone, but nearly the whole of its corridors, chambers and pavilions are of white marble, wrought with the most exquisite elaboration of ornament. The pavilions overhanging the river are inlaid, within and without, in the rich style of Florentine mosaic, They are precious caskets of marble, glittering all over with jasper, agate, cornelian, blood-stone and |