again, which so sorely puzzled western sages, have long been known in the east to depend on the heaving or contraction of that enormous turtle into which Vishtnu entered at the Kurma Avatara, when he descended into the sea, to recover the lost Vedas: thus showing that we have been all along mistaken in supposing that the most distinguished service in which tortoiseshell had ever been employed, was to cradle that illustrious renegade, Henry the Great. Nor are their notions of the permanent facts of astronomy less curious than those of its periodical phenomena. The river Ganges is considered as the earthly antitype of a celestial original. That heavenly Ganges is the Milky Way, which is placed nearer the earth than even the sun, to whom, however, the second place is assigned, and that at the distance of just half a million of miles. The moon is exactly twice as far off; then come the stars, and after them the planets, without any distinction between the inferior and superior ones, although Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn are placed in their proper order. The suspicion that earth is a member of this family, is not once entertained. Farthest off of all is the pole-star, who, however, is distant only seven and a half millions of miles. These are not regarded as the deductions of vulgar science; but as authoritative revelations on matters inaccessible to unaided research. It is true that they strangely contradict the results of the beautiful argument from parallax, on which we-who are not favoured with more direct methods of computing celestial distances are wont to look as about the choicest effort of man's reason, and which leads to the startling conclusion, that one of the "swift-winged arrows of light," though travelling in a second eight times the circumference of our globe, would spend three weary years on its flight to the nighest star; while to the one first calculated by Bessel, the journey would occupy ten.

As if conscious of parsimony in their celestial measurements, the Hindu philosophers are munificent in their terrestrial dimensions. The earth, instead of the twenty-four thousand miles to which our astronomers reduce it, expands, under the warmth of Bramhanical fancy, to a spacious orb of one hundred and twenty-seven millions, having seven overgrown continents, each with an ocean to match. These oceans are different in composition as in dimensions from that which is familiar to our groveling researches: the first is of salt-water; the other six consist respectively of liquor, sugar-cane juice, clarified butter, curds, milk, and fresh-water. In the centre of Jambu, the first of the seven continents, and the only one which exists elsewhere than in the Puranas, stands Mount Meru, not shaped as vulgar hills, but bearing the elegant form of a lotus. This mountain measures in height four hundred and twenty thousand miles, its breadth at the base eighty thousand, and at the top it spreads to sixteen millions.* To support this gigantic world, three different agencies are named,—a serpent, a turtle, and eight elephants. What relation these sustain to each other, which is higher or lower, how their different offices combine, I never could satisfactorily learn. The fact seems to be, that different writers have assigned the important duty of upholding the world to that animal which each has happened to regard with greatest favour.

When viewing the colossal nonsense whereby the Hindu sages have endeavoured to build up their claim to inspiration, it is impossible to resist a vivid impression that one wrote of creation without being abandoned to conjectures. There is a book written by one educated in the first

his own

* In all these computations I take the yojana at five miles: it may be nine.

Egyptian schools, and consequently versant in their system of cosmogony; written for a people still sunk in the ignorance attendant on serfdom, and thus prepared to receive blindly any feasible speculations on subjects beyond their reach; written in a desert, where there were no schools to criticise, no enlightenment to detect errors, no rivals to expose them; written, in fine, under every imaginable temptation for the author to indulge his fancy, or display his learning. Yet while the advancing stream of knowledge has swept into the sea of fiction all other early records of creation, this one stands proudly amid the tides which fret against its borders, but bear not an atom away. The very torrents that have overwhelmed its counterfeits, flow around it, an unfordable defence; while every tributary poured in from some new-sprung source of knowledge only swells the stream that would bear down an assailant. He who believes that any man, by his unaided foresight, could have chronicled creation's birth, in times when its system was grossly misconceived, without assuming principles, and hazarding facts, which would be falsified by the discoveries of subsequent ages, not only displays a capacious credence, but contravenes the facts which the sacred literature of ancient nations developes.

But monstrous as are the chimeras of Hindu science, I have been as much laughed at for crediting the facts of our system, as we are disposed to laugh at them for entertaining the follies of their own. To say that the sun, which is so warm, is further off than the moon, which is so cold; that the world, which is so heavy, is "hung upon nothing;" that, though every one sees it to be flat, it is round; that, though a child may tell it is perfectly still, it is whirling both round its own axis and the sun; that an eclipse of the moon comes of her getting into the earth's shadow, which no one ever saw; that an eclipse of the sun comes of the other luminary wandering between him and us, when it is plainly farther off than he; and that the fixed stars are more than nineteen billions of miles distant; does appear an exhibition at once of boldness and imbecility not to be adequately scorned. They summarily dismiss all reasoning on our different methods of arriving at conclusions, by saying, “We trust the Shastras, which, as divine revelations, cannot err; you trust to instruments and calculations, which may easily mistake: our ground is sure, yours fallacious." We should entertain about the same opinion of his modesty and veracity, who should tell us he had just completed a survey of the moons of Uranus with chains and theodolites, as does the Bramhan of the European's, who states that our astronomers can calculate the apparent size of the earth to an eye situated at the distance of the sun. The seven seas might be thought a weak point, as requiring nothing but travel to demonstrate their non-existence; but to all my objections about circumnavigators never seeing oceans of curds, butter, or toddy, they used coolly to reply, "That only proves that they have never gone beyond the sea of salt water." Of all phenomena, an annular eclipse of the sun enabled me to perplex them most, as they could not account for it on the serpent-saying theory, and were constrained to admit, that its appearances were such as would naturally result from the combination of causes to which ours ascribes it. It is perfectly true, that you teach a man science, you annihilate his faith in Hinduism. Astronomy is as dangerous to the Shastras as the Vatican once deemed it to the Bible. But it can never be taught by desultory argument: its proofs must be exhibited in series, and then conviction is inevitable. This, however, cannot be extensively afforded to the adult population. In dealing with them, my own experience utterly contradicts the opinion, that it is best to

if

approach them first by exposures of the scientific blunders of the Shastras, and so destroy their confidence in these, the basis of their own religion, before advancing the truths of which you require their acceptance. The Shastras are equally assailable on moral as on scientific grounds; while in the one case your appeal is to the man's conscience, which decides for you; but in the other, goes to facts he discredits, and processes he can neither comprehend nor trust. The shortest way to his heart is to " reason of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come," of the consequent need of pardon and sanctification, the impotency of his gods to bestow it, and Christ's glorious power to create anew.

But to return to Cauvery-Pauk, whence we have been beguiled by its astronomical fame: it has the advantage of a noble tank three miles broad and eight in length. Tanks are of two kinds, those which serve as public baths, and those constructed for the purpose of irrigation. The former are nothing more than gigantic wells, generally sunk to a great depth, with an upward opening, shaped like the hopper of a corn-mill, which, being lined on the four sides with stone steps, affords an easy descent to the water. These are to be found by most towns, and every morning the respectable inhabitants, especially the Bramhans, may be seen crowding the steps, performing their ablutions, and the devotional exercises that accompany them. The erection of these is considered an act pre-eminently meritorious. But should the projector be unhappy enough to fail in obtaining water, or to find it of an inferior quality, he remains for ever under the stigma of being frustrated in his attempts to acquire merit in the present birth, by the guilt of some blot contracted in the last. They will not hear of mineral causes modifying the supply; and, as a triumphant proof that it is regulated only by the merit of the party seeking it, adduce instances in which two persons having dug on the opposite sides of the same road, the one obtained good water, the other bad. The merit, however, no way depends on the virtues of the present birth; for I remember a Bramhan naming a case in proof of his point, in which the parties being a Polygar, and one of his favourite temple-women, the latter was the successful candidate for "sweet water." This gave rise to the question, If she were superior in merit, how came it that the birth assigned her was not only female, but that in disreputable circumstances; while the other, though less meritorious, obtained the male birth, and that in a position of honour? This was a difficulty which the worthy disputant had not seen, and could not solve. The tanks constructed for agricultural purposes are usually placed on the bed of some rivulet; a strong embankment being run across its course, at a favourable place, sometimes to the length of one or two miles. In the rainy season, when the stream swells, the dam retains the waters, which form a lake of greater or less extent, according to the nature of the ground. Should the water overflow, arrangements are made to conduct it to another tank, perhaps several miles below. All the ground which the level will command is parcelled out into compartments of a few yards square, separated by low ridges of earth. Narrow channels run between every two rows of these compartments, having an inlet to each. These are supplied by a large duct connected with the tank. The rice, from the time of its sowing till on the point of shooting into ear, is kept in water about ankle deep. Great ingenuity is manifested in all these arrangements.

The irrigation of gardens and smaller plats of ground is provided for by other means. Close by a well stands a high pole, on the top of which another is fixed transversely, so as to play up and down. From one end of

this depends a long bamboo rod, reaching to the water, with a leathern bag attached. A man mounts on the transverse spar, and, starting from its junction with the upright one, proceeds towards the extremity, like a seaman making for the yard-arm, only that he walks upon the spar itself; which, pressed by his whole weight, sinks down, so raising the opposite end, and lifting the vessel out of the water, which, gaining the top, strikes against the edge, and empties its contents into a trough prepared to carry them over the ground. He then hastens back to the centre; the spar, relieved from the pressure, follows the weight of the bamboo and bag, which latter becomes instantly immersed and filled: thus he proceeds backwards and forwards, adroitly balancing himself on his dizzy footing. A less frequent, because more expensive, method is, to place two oxen with their backs to the well: a rope connected with a large vessel is passed over a revolving axle and attached to their traces. They being backed close to the edge, the vessel is immersed and filled, on which they are driven quickly forward, thus raising the vessel to the top, where it upsets, and channels are prepared to distribute the water. As these operations vividly recall, and at the same time illustrate, much of the beautiful imagery of Scripture, to observe them is peculiarly pleasing. Those who live under showery skies, little think how precious is water where whole months together are cloudless, and the earth is scorched by fierce red suns. Some one has truly said, “The luxuries of India are cold air and cold water, when we can get them." The people of India have only one fear,—a failure of water. Let but Providence vouchsafe an adequate supply of that priceless essential, and all their necessities are met, all their labours productive. I remember, when there had been no rain for some three months, and when it was apprehended that a continuance of the drought for a few days longer would be fatal to the crops, seeing a ryot clap his hands at the first drops of a shower; and, as it descended richly, his satisfaction turned to joy,—

"Delight o'er all his features stole,"

while, with the glee of a child, he cried out, "It is just as if God had sent it!"

So far their estimate of water is natural and wise; but they carry it further than we should be disposed to go. Water is everything. If they think of settling in a new place, the first question will be, "What kind of water does it enjoy?" All the benefits we attribute to a change of air, they seek in a change of water. If healthy while resident in a strange neighbourhood, they celebrate the virtues of the water; if bilious, or feverish, or rheumatic, they lay all the blame on the water. The most common complaint of an invalid is, "The water disagrees with me." This is not to be wondered at when, according to their physiological system, it is water which, transmuted by internal processes, forms the blood, while its more refined particles sustain the respiration. And this is but a mild specimen of their attainments in that branch of science: flesh is formed from corn and vegetables: oleaginous food supplies bones, marrow, and the faculty of speech. The various emotions and physical states are regulated by certain sylvan exercises of the soul, which dwells in the region of the heart, where it is surrounded by sixteen leaves, each possessing a distinct property: as it flits around this pericardial bower, it alights on leaf after leaf, each change of perch being attended with a corresponding change of state. On one it sins, on another sleeps, a fourth transforms it to virtue, a fifth makes it wide awake, and so on. These are not all the wonders of the Hindu heart;

for out of it proceed no fewer than a hundred and one arteries, one of which, passing to the crown of the head, is of no small importance, as holy men are capable of elevating the life to that point, where it will remain during pleasure, without any aid from food.* These absurdities could not, of course, exist for a day were anatomy studied; but that science their religious prejudices induce them to regard with about the same feelings as we entertain towards cannibalism. The consequence is, they judge of our internal structure and operations on the most fanciful principles, and arrive at conclusions which, though highly serious as regards the treatment of disease, are so inimitably ridiculous, that to avoid laughter is impossible. I well remember one day my Moonshi asked leave to go home sooner than usual, saying he was very bilious, and must take remedies. I asked him what medicine he used, and whether he had any confidence in its efficacy. He said, that as to its efficacy he had ample proof, but seemed rather reluctant to name it: when pressed, however, he told me it was an application he had often successfully adopted, and which was of admirable properties, as all skilful Physicians knew; and that it was simply to cut an onion in two, and squeeze the juice into his eye.

After Cauvery-Pauk the next place of importance was Wallajanuggur, a town built by the Nabob Mohammed Ali Wallaja, called after him, and peopled from the neighbouring town of Laulpet. Those who have taken their impressions from certain writers, who represent every Hindu as an incarnation of idleness, would look with surprise on such a town as Wallajanuggur. The streets are beautifully clean, the houses white as purest snow, and in many cases ornamented with streaks of red. You have every where symptoms of stirring commerce and various manufacture. Welldressed merchants, tidy artisans, shopmen in their bazaar, weavers dressing their warp, or plying their loom, in open air; numbers of females assisting in the various operations; all attest an active and well-employed population. Goldsmith's Auburn, or Campbell's Wyoming, could hardly exhibit greater cleanliness, industry, and comfort. It is, however, the most busy town in that part of the Carnatic; the spirit of its merchants having made it the entrepôt for the commerce between the Presidency and Mysore. The betel-nut, the produce of the beautifully tall and slender areka-palm, is a leading article of traffic, being chewed by every native. It is a powerful astringent, tasting somewhat like catechu.

But in Wallajanuggur there was one object far more attractive to us than any we had met with on our way. Close by the town stood a neat bungalow, the residence of Mr. Bilderbeek, an excellent Missionary of the London Society. He was, unhappily, from home, and thus we lost the pleasure of seeing him and learning his progress. On this Mission residence the Christian traveller from Madras to Bangalore looks with mingled joy and dissatisfaction. Joy to see one place where the God he loves has an altar, and the Saviour who bought him a herald. But dissatisfaction, deep dissatisfaction and pain, to think that, though his road lies over two hundred miles of populous country, through the important towns of Arcot, Vellore, Colar, and a multitude of smaller ones; near Arni, Amboordroog, and other places celebrated in the history of India; though our armies have marched every step of the way many a time; though every village abounds with tales of our prowess, and reposes under our sway;-yet, in the whole distance, this is the only place where you can find a man sent to

* "Second Exposure of Hinduism, by Dr. Wilson, of Bombay."