present day. All the nations of the world jostle each other in its teeming streets. According to the last census, the population of 10,000 which owned the sway of Portugal in 1661 had, in the course of 220 years, reached over 773,000. Of these, only 10,451 were Europeans, a mere handful of the dominant race planted out amid the luxuriance of native growth. Considerably more than half the population is Hindoo, of various castes and divers principalities; 158,000 are Mahommedans; the rest are Parsees, Jews, Portuguese, negroes, half-breeds, and Chinese.

These last, which form so important and numerous a section of other countries on the coast of the Eastern hemisphere, have gained no foothold in Bombay. After all these years there are only 169 in the city. The reason for this is perhaps not far to seek. The work which the Chinese successfully undertake in Hongkong, the Straits Settlements, and the Malay Peninsula, is accomplished in Bombay by natives or earlier settlers. Where the Chinaman would set up as a banker he is faced by the Marwaree; where he would embark as a merchant or shipowner he finds the Parsee in possession. He is an excellent cook and household servant; but so are the IndoPortuguese, who have an earlier claim; whilst

for the lower arts, the washing and tailoring, the native is more than equal to demands upon his time and energies.

Bombay had at one time an evil reputation for its fatal insanitariness. It was a common saying that the duration of a European's life was spanned by two monsoons. On one side

of the town there was, and in bettered condition still is, a wide expanse of low land called the Flats. Over these the ocean washed when the monsoon blew; and when the wind ceased, the sea, sullenly retreating, left behind a morass which bred malarious fever. This evil was grappled with, just a hundred years ago, by Governor Hornby. He had frequently represented to the Directors of the East India Company the perils of the situation, and had pointed out how they might be averted by the creation of an embankment that would keep the sea off the Flats.

The proposed improvement would, however, cost a lac of rupees, and such wilful extravagance the Court of Directors resolutely declined to sanction. Repeated application met with persistent refusal. But Governor Hornby was a man of courage and resource. He estimated that the work might, if undertaken in a liberal spirit, be completed in a year. He waited till his term of office was

within eighteen months of expiring and then began the embankment.

There was no telegraph in those days, nor any overland mail expedited by swift ships and express trains. News travelled slowly to Leadenhall Street, and the embankment grew apace. The Directors, either getting wind of the project or suspecting the Governor of evil intent, sent an urgent despatch bearing on the subject. It duly reached Governor Hornby; but he, desiring not to have his mind distracted whilst the great work was in progress, left the despatch unopened in his desk. When the embankment was completed and the lac of rupees spent, he opened the letter, and found it was an order for his suspension from the office and authority of Governor of Bombay. It was too late to prevent the creation of the embankment, and the Governor could only write and express his regret for the series of circumstances that had baffled the intent of the Court of Directors. The Honourable Court momentarily went mad with rage; but it could not tear up the embankment, which remains to this day-the salvation of Bombay, and an enduring monument to the memory of the audacious Governor.

Oddly enough, within the last twenty years Bombay has permanently benefited by

a somewhat similar high-handed proceeding on the part of an official. Any one who lived in Bombay in 1860, and returned to it now would scarcely recognize his old acquaintance. Within that period, chiefly between 1861 and 1872, Bombay was visited by something like an epidemic of palatial building. It began during the American War, when the price of cotton steadily went up, pouring sovereigns by the million into the lap of Bombay. It is estimated that between 1861 and 1866 Bombay received eighty-one millions sterling over and above what she had during the previous five years gladly accepted as full value for her cotton. A great deal of this fabulous wealth disappeared during the mad rush of speculation which whelmed the city in 1864; but a good deal of it stuck, and its proceeds may be seen to this day. Wealthy natives, making coup after coup in cotton, and scarcely knowing what to do with their money, determined to keep their memories green by dowering the city with some stately gift in stone.

One presented a lac of rupees wherewith to build the clock tower which looks abroad over island, sea, and mainland. When the inevitable crash came, this benefactor was ruined. Only recently the tower has been

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completed, and it was found that, so munificent had been the money gift, it was impossible to spend the last £5000. The original donor, pathetically setting forth his present condition of comparative destitution, petitioned the government to refund him this overplus, which would be sufficient to give him a fresh start in business. The Government, in a minute which cannot be read without a glow of admiration, frigidly rebuked the unfortunate man for even submitting such a proposition, and reminded him that the money, should they loose their grasp of it, belonged not to him but to his creditors. Hereupon the creditors pricked up their ears and hailed "a Daniel come to judgment." But the Government felt they had done all that could be expected in the cause of commercial morality by laying down this principle; and they hold on to the money.

It was during these hilarious times, when money flowed in like the rising tide, that Bombay found its Hausmann. The municipal administration of the city was conducted in some not very clearly established manner by a Commissioner and a bench of justices. The Commissioner happened to be a gentleman of much ability, overmastering energy, and a fine taste for street architecture. He pulled