ner the General received a large number of the native merchants and gentlemen of Bombay. It may seem odd to American eyes that merchants and gentlemen should be asked to come in at the end of a feast, and not to take part. But this exclusion is their own wish. Many of these merchants and gentlemen belong to castes who look on the food of the Europeans as unclean, who believe in the sacredness of life and will not eat animal food, and who could not sit at the table with the General without losing caste. These men will meet you in business, will serve you in various ways, but their religion prevents their sharing your table. So the invitation to the natives to meet the General was fixed at an hour when dinner was over.

They came in groups - Hindoos, Arabs, Parsees, native officers in uniforms, in quaint flowing costumes. The General stood at the head of the hallway, with Mr. Gibbs and Major Rivet-Carnac, the Governor's military secretary. As each native advanced, he was presented to the General with some word of history or compliment from Mr. Gibbs. "This is So-and-So, an eminent Brahmin scholar, who stands hig1 among our barriste," or, "this is So-and-So, a Pars merchant, who has done a great deal of good to Bombay, and has been knighted for his services by the Queen;" or, "this is the oldest Arab merchant;" or, "this is a gallant officer of our native cavalry;" or, "this is the leading diamond merchant in Bombay, a Hindoo gentleman, one of the richest in India." As each of them advanced, it was with folded hands, as in prayer, or saluting by touching the breast and brow in the submissive, graceful, bending way. Here were men of many races the Parsee, from Persia, the Arab, from Cairo, whose ancestors may have ridden with Omar; the Brahmin of a holy caste, in whose veins runs the stainless blood of Indian nobility, descendant of

men who were priests and rulers ages before England had risen from her clouds of barbarism. Between these races there is no love. If they do not like England, they hate one another. Religious differences, tradition, memories of war and conquest, the unaccountable antipathies of race which have not been eliminated from their civilization— all generate a fierce animosity which would break into flames once the restraining hand were lifted. What welds them together is the power of England; and as you look at this picturesque group- their heads, full eyes, their fine Asiatic type of face, clear and well cut here assembled peacefully, you see the extent of the empire to which they all owe allegiance, and admire the genius and courage which has brought them to submit to a rule which, what ever it may have been in the past, grows more and more beneficent.

The General left Bombay on Tuesday, February 18, having driven into town and made some farewell calls. At five he left Government House in a state carriage accompanied by Major Carnac, who represented Governor Temple, d escorted by a squadron of cavalry. On arriving at the tion there was a g. d of honor of native infantry drawn up, which presente arms and lowered colors. All the leading men of the Bombay Government - Parsee and native merchants; our Consul, Mr. Farnham, whose kindness was untiring; Mr. Gibbs, and all the members of the government household, were present. few minutes the signal for leaving was made, and, the General thanking his good friends of Malabar Point, the train pushed off amid cheers and the salutes of the mili tary.

In a

On the 20th of February the party arrived at Tatulpur, and visited the Marble Rocks, on the Norbudda River, riding there on elephants provided by the govern

ment.

The General arrived at Allahabad on the 22d of February, where he was received by Sir George Cowper, Lieutenant-Governor of the Northwest Provinces, and was escorted to the Government House.

The General arrived at Agra on the 23d, and on the following day he visited Jeypore, where he was received by the Maharajah with his ministers, and the English Resident, Dr. Hendley. As the General descended, the Maharajah, who wore the ribbon and star of the Order of India, advanced and shook hands, welcoming him to his dominions. The Maharajah is a small, rather fragile person, with a serious, almost a painful, expression of countenance, but an intelligent, keen face. He looked like a man of sixty. His movements were slow, impassive - the movements of old age. This may be a mannerism, however, for on studying his face you could see that there is some youth in it. On his brow were the crimson emblems of his caste - the warrior caste of Rajpootana. His Highness does not speak English, although he understands it, and our talk was through an interpreter. After the exchange. of courtesies and a few moments' conversation, the General drove off to the English Residency, accompanied by a company of Jeypore cavalry. The Residency is some distance from the station. It is a fine, large mansion, surrounded by a park and garden.

It was arranged that the General should visit Amber, the ancient capital of Jeypore, one of the most curious sights in India. Amber was the capital until the close of the seventeenth century. It was one of the freaks of the princes who once reigned in India, that when they tired of a capital or a palace, they wandered off and built a new one, leaving the other to run to waste. The ruins of India are as a general thing the abandoned palaces and temples of kings who grew weary of their toy and craved another. This is why Amber is now an abandoned town and Jeypore

the capital. If the Maharajah were to tire of Jeypore and return to Amber, the town would accompany him, for without the Court the town would die. Traveling in India must be done very early in the morning, and, although the visitors had had a severe day's journey, they left for Amber at seven in the morning. A squadron of the Maharajah's cavalry accompanied them. They are fine horsemen, and wear quilted uniforms of printed cotton. The drive through Jeypore was interesting, from the fact that they were now in a native city, under native rule. Heretofore the India they had seen was India under Englishmen; but Jeypore is sovereign, with power of life and death over its own subjects. The city is purely Oriental, and is most picturesque and striking. There are two or three broad streets, and one or two squares, that would do no discredit to Paris. The architecture is Oriental, and, as all the houses are painted after the same pattern, in rose color, it gives you the impression that it is all the same building. The streets had been swept for the coming of the visitors, and men, carrying goatskins of water, were sprinkling them. Soldiers were stationed at various points to salute, and sometimes the salute was accompanied with a musical banging on various instruments of the national air. The best that India can do for a distinguished American, is "God Save the Queen."

There are gas lamps in Jeypore; this is a tremendous advance in civilization. One of the first things General Grant heard in India, was that in Jeypore lived a great prince, a most enlightened prince, quite English in his ideas, who had gas lamps in his streets. He had a theatre almost ready for occupancy; there was a troupe of Parsee players in town, who had come all the way from Bombay, and were waiting to open it. The Maharajah was sorry he could not show the General a play.

To go to Amber, General Grant and party must ride

elephants, for after a few miles the hills come, and the roads are broken, and carriages are of no value. Camels or horses could be used, but the Maharajah had sent elephants, and they were waiting for them under a grove of mango trees, drawn up by the side of the road, as if to salute. The principal elephant wore a scarlet cloth, as a special honor to the General. The elephant means authority in India, and, when you wish to do your guest the highest honor, you mount him on an elephant. The Maharajah also sent sedan chairs for those who preferred an easier and swifter convey

ance.

Mrs. Grant chose the sedan chair, and was switched off at a rapid pace up the ascending road by four Hindoo bearers. The pace at which these chairs is carried is a short, measured quickstep, so that there is no uneasiness to the rider. The rest mounted the elephants. Elephantriding is a curious and not an unpleasant experience. The animal is under perfect control, and very often, especially in the case of such a man as the ruler of Jeypore, has been for generations in the same family. The elephant is under the care of a driver, called a mahout. The mahout sits on the neck, or more properly the head, of the elephant, and guides him with a stick or sharp iron prong, with which he strikes the animal on the top of the head. Between the elephant and mahout there are relations of affection. The mahout lives with the elephant, gives him his food, and each animal has its own keeper. The huge creature becomes in time as docile as a kitten, and will obey any order of the mahout. The elephant reaches a great age. It is not long since there died at Calcutta the elephant which carried Warren Hastings when Governor General of India, a century ago. There are two methods of riding elephants. One is in a box like the four seats of a carriage, the other on a square quilted seat, your feet hanging over the sides, something like an Irish jaunting car. The first plan is