portions, we have presented to us the image of man, the likeness indeed of a fallen angel, but at the same time a being whose inconsistencies and excesses we can comprehend and arrange or account for, with whose misfortunes and disappointments we can sympathize, while we do not the less detest his enormities. He and his daughter the Duchess of Berri, as they are painted in the SaintSimon gallery, are admirable studies for the moralist who would write on the education of princes. Cardinal Dubois, the Duke de Noailles, and all the other heroes of the Regency, are also drawn at full length. This portion of the Memoirs relative to and on the Regency, and that short period of the majority of Louis XV. which preceded the death of the Duke of Orleans, occupy rather more than seven volumes of the whole twenty-one, and are perhaps more replete with stirring incidents than the preceding part, but fall sadly below them in the dignity and ability of the historic personages of the former reign. On the death of Louis the government became one infamous scramble, and the persons engaged in the disgraceful hustle were fit actors in such scenes.

In this age of tourists, it is rather extraordinary that the travelling mania should not extend to the possessions of the British Government in India; and that so few persons are induced to visit scenes and countries in the East, embellished with the most gorgeous productions of nature and of art. The city of Agra is well worthy of a pilgrimage from the uttermost parts of the globe: yet a very small number amid those who have spent many years in Hindoostan are tempted to pay it a visit; and the civil and military residents, together with casual travellers passing through to the places of their destination, alone, are acquainted with a city boasting all the oriental magnificence which imagination has pictured from the glowing descriptions of eastern tales. The Smelfungus tribe is very numerous in India; necessity, and not "a truant disposition," has occasioned the greater portion of the servants of the Company to traverse foreign lands; and the sole remark frequently made by persons who have sojourned amid the marble temples and citron groves of Agra, consist of a simple statement, that "it is exceedingly hot." Bishop Heber, who possessed a true relish for the sublime and beautiful, and who delighted with all a poet's enthusiasm in the picturesque, has not done Agra justice in his

* See the Select Journal of Foreign Periodical Literature, Vol. I. p. 293.

interesting narrative. He was ill during the brief period of his sojourn there, and had come immediately from Delhi, the stately rival of the city of Acbar. This is the more unfortunate, as his work, being very popular, and considered good authority, has led a favorite writer of the day to portray ruin and desolation as the prominent features of Agra; whereas, though somewhat shorn of the splendor it possessed in the times of the Moghul emperors, it is still a place of wealth and importance, inhabited by rich natives, both Moosulman and Hindoo, and carrying on an extensive trade. Should steam-navigation ever be introduced with effect upon the Ganges and Jumna, there can be little doubt that the seat of government will be, at some time, removed from Calcutta to a more central station, and the probabilities are greatly in favor of Agra being the selected spot. In this event, improvements of vast magnitude may be expected to take place in the upper country. The hill-stations especially will be benefited by the influx of visitors; they must necessarily be enlarged, roads must be made, bridges constructed, gardens cultivated, and public buildings erected, until they will offer the accommodations of European wateringplaces, in addition to the far superior attractions of their scenery. Persons weary of Cheltenham, Baden, Spa, and other springs of fashionable resort, may take a trip to the Himalaya, and visit the source of the Ganges by way of variety. Even now, it would be perfectly practicable for a tourist, in search of novelty, to climb the heights of the Asiatic mountains to the limits of eternal snow, that untrodden barrier which has defied, and will defy, the adventurous foot of man, and return to England, without experiencing a single day in which the thermometer shall have risen beyond the bounds of moderate heat. By landing in Calcutta in the middle of October, four months of cold weather is secured, a period sufficient to admit of easy travelling through the upper provinces, vid Benares, Lucknow, Agra, Bhurtpore, Delhi, and Meerut; from the latter station it is only a few marches, or a three days' journey by dawk (post) to Landour, a sanatarium perched upon the crags of the Himalaya. This place, and Mepoorisse, another hill-cantonment should form the head-quarters during the eight months of heat endured in the plains; and in the following October, passing through the central provinces, and visiting Jyepore, Nusseerabad, Ajmere, and Mhow, the tourist may proceed to Bombay, and take his passage home before the commencement of the hot weather.

To a lover of the picturesque, Agra is one of the most delightful stations in India; but as persons of this description form a very small portion of the community, a residence amid the splendid monuments of Moghul power is not considered desirable, in consequence of the alleged heat of the climate, and the high prices demanded for the bungalows. It possesses a garrison, consisting of one European or King's corps, and three of Native Infantry, with their requisite staff, under the command of a brigadier. The military cantonments are the ugliest in India, being situated upon

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a wide, bare plain, enlivened only by a few Parkinsonias, trees which are too uniformly covered with yellow flowers to appear to advantage when not mingled with others of more varied foliage. The Jumna is completely hid from view by intervening sand-banks, which also shut out the beauties of the Taaje Mahal, with the exception of its silvery dome; and the exteriors of the bungalows, with few exceptions, are hideous. They are usually built of brick, a material amply supplied by the ruins in the neighbourhood; the gateless, and sometimes fenceless compounds, have a desolate appearance; and a handsome church is the only redeeming feature in the scene. The houses, however, have good gardens, though the latter are not made ornamental to the landscape; and their interiors are remarkable for the elegance of the fitting-up, an abundance of marbles furnishing chimney-pieces, cornices, and plasters of a very superior kind of chunam; and instead of bare white-washed walls, the apartments are decorated with handsome mouldings and other architectural ornaments. The civil lines, at the distance of two miles, are much more beautifully situated, amidst well-wooded ravines, which, during the rainy season, are covered with a verdant carpet of green, and watered by numerous nullahs. The roads are excellent, and kept in the finest order by the labors of gangs of convicts, who are employed upon the public works of British India. Many of the houses belonging to the families of civilians are puckha, and built in the style of those of Calcutta; others assume a more fanciful aspect, the centre being composed of an abandoned mosque, with wings spreading on either side. The distance between the military and civil lines at Agra constitutes a very considerable obstacle to the social intercourse of the station : throughout India, there exists a degree of jealousy on the part of the former, which renders them tenacious of appearing to show too much deference to the superior wealth of the judges and collectors, whom they fancy must look down upon a poorer class. There are, of course, a few instances of civilians in high appointments, who hold themselves far above their less fortunate military compeers, a set of persons who have obtained the cognomen of " Buhàdur," a very significant phrase, borrowed from the title of honor bestowed by natives upon great men, or assumed by those who desire to give themselves consequence; -but, generally speaking, the civilians, being fewer in number, are glad to pay attention to all the military in the neighbourhood; and at least during my residence at Agra, they made far less difficulty in coming over to the balls in the cantonments than was raised by the families of officers, who frequently declined invitations to the civil lines on account of the distance, or because they would not receive civilities which they were unable to return. This sort of pride is very detrimental to the society of small communities, and at Agra it always appears to be

*So called from having been introduced in India from the Cape by Colonel Parkinson.

in full operation, the station never having had a reputation for gayety.

Excepting in Calcutta, and there the occurrence is rare, evening parties are not given in India. Balls and suppers are of course very frequent, but entertainments of a less magnificent description would be considered mean, and an affront to those invited. Strangers are, however, sometimes asked in a friendly way to tea, and a visit of this description affords a novelty not unamusing to persons who have just arrived in the country. It is necessary to enter into some details respecting the modes of living adopted by European residents in India, in order to explain the nature of these teadrinkings.

The hour of dinner makes a very material difference in the disposition of the day. Those who do not take that meal until after sun-set, sit down to a tiffin at two o'clock, which, being composed of hot dishes, is to all intents and purposes a dinner, and is usually made the principal repast. It is customary, after leaving the table, to undress and lie down until the sun declines, and at the conclusion of the evening-drive, dinner is served, a meal which is frequently suffered to go away almost untasted; indeed it is considered a mark of high-breeding to sit without eating, though the guests would be shocked if three courses, at least, were not provided for them; the quantity of curry and rice, which has been devoured at home, may be accurately measured by the consumption of the delicacies abroad, which in a very fine lady will not exceed half-adozen grapes: in fact, it might be supposed that the company, like the bride in the Arabian tales, who ate rice by the single grain, were in the habit of supping with goules. This is called dining at night. Other persons pursue a different, and perhaps a more rational plan; they dispense with tiffin altogether, and sit down to dinner at four o'clock; the repast may easily be prolonged until it is time to go out, or the sun is sufficiently low to permit an adjournment to the verandah; and on returning from the evening excursion, the family find the tea prepared. Unless the servants, however, shall have been well trained, and habituated to English customs, they will load the table with hot viands, meat, vegetables, and pastry, sometimes laying the cloth, and at others spreading their hot dishes upon the bare mahogany. These tea-drinkings somewhat resemble the entertainments given in America, and might be made exceedingly social, did not pride and dignity forbid; not more than two or three persons are invited at a time, when the parties are not intimate, nothing more triste can be imagined; they sit looking at each other until the guests, annoyed to death, find a decent pretext to withdraw. Great reform is absolutely called for in the mode of visiting in India, where, according to the present system, pains appear to have been taken to render it as formal and inconvenient as possible. Morning calls ought to be abolished by an order of council; for where it is dangerous to be out after ten o'clock, even in a carriage or a palanquin, during

and

eight months in the year, ladies must often pay visits at the hazard of their lives. If early dinners were more general, the station, or at least that portion socially inclined, might meet at each other's houses after the evening-drive, either alternately or according to some other regulation. The gate of a compound being closed, is a certain indication that the family, who cannot so easily as in England profess to be not at home, do not desire to receive visitors; carriages roll away without offence taken by their inmates, and those who might not desire to have their houses filled with company, could adopt the same precaution to secure themselves from interruption. The faint attempt made during my stay at Agra to introduce a better system, though a decided failure, owing to the want of courage requisite to invite numerous guests to a slight entertainment, deserves honorable mention, and perhaps may induce more enterprising persons to improve upon the plan. There are no subscription-balls at Agra, and dancing depends upon the hospitalities exercised by private individuals; a play is occasionally performed at the theatre, a building of no exterior beauty, and whose properties are of a very inferior order; and races have been established, which, however, bear no proportion to the celebrity acquired by those at Meerut and Ghazeepore.

It is in the city of Agra and its environs, that intellectual persons must seek gratification. The Taaje Mahal is usually deemed the most attractive object, and, considered in its character of a mausoleum, it has not its equal in the world. The reader of eastern romance may here realize his dreams of fairy land, and contemplate those wondrous scenes so faithfully delineated in the brilliant pages of the Arabian Nights. Imagine a wild plain, broken into deep, sandy ravines, the picture of rudeness and desolation, a tract as unpromising as that which Prince Ahmed traversed in search of his arrow. In the midst of this horrid wilderness, a palace of deep red stone, inlaid with white marble, and surmounted by domes and open cupolas, appears. It is ascended by flights of steps; in the centre is a large circular hall, with a domed roof, and a gallery running round, all in the most beautiful style of oriental architecture. This is the gate of the Taaje Mahal, a building which, in any other place, would detain the visitant in rapture at the symmetry and grandeur of its proportions, and the exquisite elegance of the finishing; but the eyes have caught a glimpse of a delicious garden, and the splendors of this noble entrance are little regarded. At the end of a long avenue of graceful cypresses, whose rich foliage is beautifully mirrored in marble basins, fed with water from numerous sparkling fountains, the Taaje arises, gleaming like a fairy palace. It is wholly composed of polished marble of the whitest hue, and if there be any faults in the architecture, they are lost in the splendor of the material, which conveys the idea of something even more brilliant than marble, mother-o'-pearl, or glistening spar. No description can do justice to this shining edifice, which seems rather to belong to the fanciful creations of a dream, than to the