It

kept in very strict confinement, on account of having been engaged in a conspiracy. The most remarkable thing in the fort is a subterranean temple, evidently of great antiquity. consists of a single low hall, supported by square pillars, and contains many figures of Mahadeo in niches around the walls, and a quantity of lingams scattered over the floor. There is a narrow passage issuing from it which has not been explored. Some of the Brahmins say it leads to Benares, and others to Hell. In the centre of the fort stands a column of red sandstone, resembling the iron pillar at Delhi, and with an inscription in the Pali character. The arsenal, which occupies part of the zenana of the Emperor Akbar, is the largest in India. In other respects the fort is not remarkable, though, having been repaired by the English, it is in better condition to stand an attack than the immense shells which tower over Agra and Delhi.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE HOLY CITY OF INDIA.

Crossing the Ganges-Pilgrims Returning Home-Vagaries of the Horses-BenaresProf. Hall-The Holy City-Its Sanctity-The Sanscrit College-Novel Plan of Education-Village of Native Christians-The Streets of Benares-Sacred BullsTheir Sagacity and Cunning-The Golden Pagoda-Hindoo Architecture-Worship of the Lingam-Temple of the Indian Ceres-The Banks of the Ganges-Bathing Devotees Preparations for Departure.

AT noon, on Monday, the 14th, I left the hospitable roof of Mr. Owen, at Allahabad. On reaching the Ganges, I found the drawbridge open, and a string of upward bound vessels passing through. There were thirty-nine in all, and so slowly were they towed against the stream, that full two hours elapsed, and I still sat there in the heat, contemplating the white and glaring sand-flats of the opposite shore. There was an end of it at last; my garree was pushed across, and over the sands, by a crowd of eager coolies, and having attained the hard, macadamized road, shaded by umbrageous peepul and neem trees, I whirled away rapidly toward Benares. My road lay along the northern bank of the Ganges, through a very rich and beautiful country. The broad fields of wheat and barley just coming into head, were picturesquely broken by "topes" of

the dark mango or the feathery tamarind, and groves of the brab palm. It was a land of harvest culture, with all the grace of sylvan adornment which distinguishes a park of plea

sure.

The road was thronged with pilgrims returning from the great mela, or fair, of Allahabad. During the afternoon I passed many thousands, who appeared to be of the lowest and poorest castes of the Hindoos. They all carried earthen jars, filled with the sacred water of the Junction (of the Ganges and Jumna), which they were taking to pour upon the shrines of Benares or Byznath. At the stations where I changed horses, they crowded around the garree, begging vociferously : "O great Being, an alms for Shiva's sake!" One half-naked, dark-eyed boy of ten years, accosted me in fluent Arabic, exclaiming: "O great lord, may Peace repose upon your turban!" with such a graceful and persuasive air that he did not need to ask twice. But for the others, it was necessary to be both blind and deaf, for there was no charm in the serpent-armed Destroyer to extort what had been given in the sacred name of Peace. As night approached, the crowds thickened, and the yells of my driver opened a way through their midst for the rapid garree. They moved in a cloud of dust, of their own raising, and I had no comfort until the darkness obliged them to halt by the roadside and around the villages, after which the atmosphere became clearer, and the road was tolerably free from obstruction.

The horses, however, gave me no peace, and every change, at the relay stations, seemed to be for the worse. After balking at the start, they would dash off in fury, making the body of the garree swing from side to side at every bound, till a crash

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of some kind appeared inevitable. One of these careers was through a long and crowded village, in which a market was being held. I did not count how many times my flying wheels grazed the piles of earthenware, and the heaps of grain and vegetables, but I know that there were screams of alarm, gesticulations, fright and confusion, from one end of the village to the other, and how we ran the gauntlet without leaving a wake of ruin behind us, is a mystery which I cannot explain. I gradually became too weary to notice these aberrations of the propelling force, and sinking down into the bottom of the garree, fell into a sleep from which I was awakened at midnight by the driver's voice. I looked out, saw a large Gothic church before me, in the moonlight, and knew by that token that the goal was reached.

The next morning I called upon my countryman, Mr. FitzEdward Hall, to whom I had letters, and, according to Indian custom, immediately received the freedom of his bungalow. Mr. Hall, who is a native of Troy, New York, is Professor of Sanscrit in the Sanscrit College at Benares, and enjoys a high and deserved reputation throughout India for his attainments, not only in the classic language of the Brahmins, but also in the Hindoo and Urdee tongues. With his assistance I was enabled to take a hasty but very interesting survey of Benares, within the two days to which my stay was limited.

Benares, the Holy City of the Hindoos, and one of the most ancient in India, lies upon the northern bank of the Ganges, at the point where it receives the waters of the two small tributaries, the Burna and Arsee, from whose united names is derived that of the town. All junctions of other rivers with the Ganges are sacred, but that of the Jumna and the invisible

Seriswattee at Allahabad, surpasses all others in holiness. Nevertheless, Benares, from having been the spot where Maha deo (if I am not mistaken), made his last avatar, or incarnate appearance on the earth, is so peculiarly sanctified that all persons who live within a circuit of five miles-even the abhorred Mussulman and the beef-eating English-go to Paradise, whether they wish it or no. According to the gospel of the Brahmins, the city and that portion of territory included within the aforesaid radius of five miles, is not, like all the rest of the earth's bulk, balanced upon the back of the great Tortoise, but up held upon the points of Shiva's trident. In this belief they boldly affirmed that though all other parts of the world might be shaken to pieces, no earthquake could affect the stability of Benares until 1828, when without the least warning towers and temples were thrown down, hundreds of persons buried in the wreck, and half built quays and palaces so split and sunken, that the boastful builders left off their work, which stands at this day in the same hideous state of ruin. This mundane city, however (they say), is but a faint shadow, a dim reflection of the real Benares, which is built upon a plain half-way between Earth and Heaven.

The English cantonments encircle the old Hindoo city. Owing to the deep, dry beds of the small rivers, scarring the rather arid level which it covers, the settlement has not the home-like, pleasing features of others in Hindostan. There are a few handsome private mansions, a spacious church, and the new Sanscrit College, which is considered the finest modern edifice in India. To those who are familiar with the East India Company's efforts in this line, such an opinion will not raise very high expectations. The College is o Gothic cross