on the deceitful ocean-listen to me! Look out for squalls!-Beware of hurricanes! Have a care of approaching storms! There may be en enemy's ship nearer than you wot of. Just give a salute, and sheer off to Bachelor's harbour. And ye, the last and most pitiable class of all—yet

who fancy yourselves dying for love, make a tack! about ship! and, above all, keep a plenty of good wine aboard; so that when a sigh is rising in the throat you may choke it with a bumper; and, in case of tears flowing, depend upon it that port will prove the best eye-water.

I SEE the white sails of thy ship,
The blue depths of the sea;

I hear the wind sweep o'er the wave
That bears thee, love, from me.
Thy flag shines in the crimson sun,
Now setting in the brine:
That sun will set to-morrow there,
But light no sail of thine!
Yet, with to-morrow's evening star,
Again I'll seek this spot:

'Twas here I gave my parting charge,
My last "FORGET ME NOT!"
Around my neck there is a band,

'Tis made of thy dark hair :

Its links guard my heart's dearest prize,
A broken ring they bear.

A like pledge hangs upon thy breast,
The last sweet gift love gave,

We broke that ring, we twined that hair
Upon a maiden's grave,

A girl who died of broken vows-
(How can love be forgot?)

A fitting shrine for faithful hearts
To sigh-" FORGET ME NOT!"

How can I bear to think on all
The dangers thou must brave!
My fears will deem each gale a storm,
While thou art on the wave.
How my young heart will cling to all
That breathes of thine or thee!
How I will plant thy favourite flowers,
And nurse thy favourite tree!
And thou! oh thou! be shade or shine,

Or storm or calm thy lot,
Bear on thy heart our parting words-

Our fond "FORGET ME NOT!"

Nay, pray thee, Mother, let me gaze
Upon that distant sail;
What matters that my eye is dim,

Or that my cheek is pale'
And tell me not 'tis vain to weep

For him who is away;

That sighs nor tears will speed the flight

Of but a single day:

It is not that I hope to bring

My Sailor to our cot,

But who can say and yet not weepFarewell!" FORGET ME NOT!"

LEL

THE rose had sipp'd the early dew,
And balmy sweet perfumed the air,
When William wept a last adieu

Upon the bosom of his fair:
"Farewell! (he cried,) my lovely Jane,
Though distant far across the main,
This heart to thee shall true remain
Till death its cords shall sever."

The morning breezes swell'd the sail,
His vessel soon was lost to view;
But evening brought the angry gale,
And vivid lightnings round them flew :
In vain the billows' force they brave,
Sinking beneath th' oppressive ware—
Poor William found a watery grave,
And bade "Adieu !" for ever.

NED SPLICE was a tar as devoid of all fear
As e'er swabb'd a deck from the spray of a sea:
He knew ev'ry rope, and could hand, reef, and steer-
Book-larning, why, lord, 'twas all dickey to he.
Our Chaplain could spin out a very fine yarn,
And bother each man in his mess;

Never swear, never covet another man's prog But see him next day, when he's cheating at

whist

My eyes, 'tis a storm in an ocean of grog. Says NED, "Them 'ere maxims I don't understand, We should practise the thing we profess;"

'Tis 'Succour a friend in distress.'

'Ne'er get drunk! (says the Priest, with a wave of

his fist ;)

his hand

He gives to a friend in distress.

THE

POONA.

HE roads leading into the city of Poona are in good repair. One route proceeds by the British residency at the Sangam, the other by a good substantial stone bridge over the Moota river. It was near sunset as I entered Poona; the setting rays of that glorious orb reflecting its beams on the venerable roof of the Parbutti temple, on turreted walls, large white terraced houses, lofty.shining spires, and on handsome-looking pagodas, intermingled with Moghul buildings, Hindoo palaces, castles, and gardens, afforded, on a serene evening, an imposing sight to a stranger; while a fine river, running in front of the city, added an interesting feature to the view. This was not lessened upon entering a crowded city, where the objects were as varied in appearance as the external view had been half a mile off, and consisted of large heavy houses, built of stone, more for defence than comfort; many of them painted with representations of peacocks, figures of Ganesa and Hanuman. Shops of all descriptions were seen, having open fronts, with the goods exposed on an inclined platform. The streets narrow, and thronged with people; among whom might be discovered the sedate, decently clad Brahman; the delicate and pretty-featured Hindoo female; the portly, dignified, and handsomely dressed Mussulman; Arab horsemen completely armed, prancing along upon their fine chargers; Fakeers in a state of nudity; Mahratta foot-soldiers, with sword and buckler; and groups of people from other countries in their various costumes, and with peculiar casts of countenance. In this diversified moving mass we must not forget a few Jews and Portuguese Christians, and occasionally a British Siphanee in his neat undress, on leave of absence for a few hours. This living picture has the addition of state elephants, splendid cavalcades of public officers, decked out with parade and show, accompanied by richly-caparisoned led horses, and

camels trotting along at'a quick pace, with rows of little tinkling bells suspended round their necks. If to all this we add crowded markets, religious processions, and bands of noisy musicians, some idea may be formed of the tumult and bustle of the capital city of the Mahratta empire towards evening.

Notwithstanding all the absurd cry at home against the fanaticism and bigotry of the Brahminical character, the Portuguese had a chapel in the centre of Poona; nor were the Mahomedans less favoured, for at the annual festival of the Taabout, in commemoration of the martyrdom of Hussein and Hassan, the Peishwa, in great state, with all his public officers, attended, with every symptom of good will and respect, and even public salutes were fired on the occasion: I have seen the Mahommedans pay respect to the Hindoo processions and worship, and join in the prayers and shouts of the multitude with decorum and friendship.

FABULOUS HISTORY OF ELORA.

Dhrutarass, a blind and holy man, much favoured by Brahma, had a son called Couroo, and a brother named Pundoo or Pandoo: it was so ordered, that the uncle and nephew were to govern the world; but it happened they could not settle about their respective sovereignties. They were ordered by a vision to settle the dispute by playing a certain game of hazard; and Pandoo, the uncle of Couroo, lost it. To hide his misfortune, and to obliterate from his mind all ideas of his former power and greatness, he vowed to retreat from the face of mankind, accompanied by his wife Contee. After travelling a great distance, they came to this part of India; the retirement of the place was congenial to their heavy sorrows, and here they fixed themselves. In the course of a few years they_begat five sons; these were Yudishteer, Bheem or Bhima, Urjoon or Urzuna, Nacool, and Seyhuder. From a pious motive, and to please the god Crishna, they commenced excavating caverns for religious purposes; and, that the under

taking might appear miraculous and wonderful to mankind, they entreated the god for a night that might last one year; which request was granted. Bheem, the second son, was the principal assistant, he being amazingly strong, and eating the enormous quantity of one candy and a half of meat during the day (900 lbs.) When the five brothers had finished their excavations, day broke forth; the brothers were then despatched to propagate the wonder; and millions of people flocked from the farthest parts to behold the mighty and favoured family of the Pandoos. Their father Pundoo was removed from this world to a better, for his piety; the sanctity of the brothers, and their supposed influence with the Deity, brought over boundless countries and dominion to their sway in a short period of time they had seven millions of warriors and fighting men; while others were daily flocking to their standard. They then determined to wage war with their relation Couroo, who, from the length, mildness, and virtues of his reign, was universally beloved by his subjects. Even those that had deserted, and had gone over to the five brothers, from a mistaken notion of their being deified heroes, by the great wonders of the cavern being produced in one night, seceded, and joined Couroo, who called together his faithful followers, and found that his fighting men exceeded eleven millions, eager to repel aggression; but the event of the conflict was disastrous to Couroo, for the brothers had found favour with Crishna (Vishnu), as they had performed grea and holy works. So much were they favoured, that Crishna stood before Urzoon while he mounted his charger, and bade him not fear the hosts of Couroo. Thus were the caves of Elora excavated: Visvacarma being the architect employed by the Pandoos.

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON ELORA.

The principal object of worship at Elora is the stone so frequently spoken of, the Lingham, of "the changer of things," Maha Deo (literally the great God,), Siva. It is a symbol of him in his generative character; the base is inserted in the Yoni; the Ling is of a

conical shape, and often a black stone, covered with flowers (the Belia and and Asaca shrubs): the flowers hang pendent from the crown of the ling stone to the spout of the Argha or Yoni, (mystical matrix :) and not a whit bet ter than the phallus of the Greeks and its ceremonies. Whatever enthusiasts may say to the contrary, this symbol is grossly indecent, and abhorrent to every moral feeling, let the subject be glossed over as it may. Five lamps are commonly used in worship (Puja) at this symbol, but frequently one lamp having five wicks. Often the lotos is seen on the top of the Ling. The wa ter that the Argha holds (the pedestal in which the Ling is inserted), is em blematical of Vishnu, and the dent or orifice in the frame, (Yoni) or rim, is called the navel of Vishnu. How comes it, as we find acknowledged by many, and which Major Moor supports both in his writings and prints, that Brahma sprung from the navel of Vishnu in the cup of the lotos ? when it is asserted on the other hand, in Hindoo mythology, that Brahma was the first created being, and that Narayana was the spirit, the vivifying, animating, moving, abstract essence, so awfully expressed in our own divine book: "And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters."

The gross fables and inapplicable allegories engrafted in modern times, have rendered the Hindoo mythology both disgusting and unintelligible. I have every respect for the mythology of the ancients: it is to that we owe science, arts, and history, and like the emblems in heraldry, it speaks a symbolical language. The primitive Brahmins were philosophers and sages; whilst their successors have, to confirm and enslave the minds of the people, rendered a beautiful system of mythol ogy and science vicious and stupid.

near the

Idols, stones, and graven images, are not alone reverenced by the Hindoos. Trees, shrubs, and pieces of water, are in many places held in vene ration: such was the tank, village of Elora; hence, probably arose the celebrity of the place, and the idea of excavating the temples in the neighbourhood. The legend com

municated to me by the Brahmins was that Ecloo Rajah, whose father's territories were at Ellichpore, in the neighbouring kingdom of Hyderabad, was in a diseased state, and his body filled with maggots; but by dipping a cloth in the sacred spot, and rubbing it over his body, he was cleansed of the maggots, and a speedy cure effected. It is unnecessary to dwell on this extravagant fable, when it is added that the cistern, or koond, in which Ecloo bathed, was reduced from a large sheet of water, by the commands of Vishnu, to the small size of a cow's hoof, and that the event happened 7894 years ago. There is scarcely a chronological event of the Hindoos to which they do not attach some monstrous absurdity to awaken your wonder, but which they themselves implicitly believe. So pleased was Ecloo with his cure, that he instantly set about excavating the temples as a mark of his gratitude and piety. History informs us that Ecloo Raj flourished 930 years ago.

During my stay at Elora I met with no interruption whatever from the residents or visitors at the temples. I had but little intercourse with the village. The small supplies that I required, as milk, grass, rice, &c. were daily sent up to my tent by the Kutval, a Brahman, who was the head man of the village. For these necessaries he wished to decline payment. The Baae (Holkar's Mother) defrayed all charges of pilgrims, &c.; but as I did not exactly come under that denomination, I begged to be under no obligation to her highness's bounty. The good-tempered Brahmin was not to be evaded; he insisted that I had cured several persons by means of my medical skill, and in "dispensations of the most excellent English medicine." If any radical cures were effected, it was by means of a good dose of calomel. One cure was ascribed to me which ought to have been ascribed to nature: it was extracting a long worin(Narroo) from the foot between the toes and the instep. I believe they are known to us as the guinea-worm. If they break inside the skin some danger may be apprehended. While they are forming under the skin or membrane, they

cause an excruciating pain. I had once

seen a worm extracted: the swelling was brought to head by repeated poulticing, and then delicately perforated, and a small straw worked under the worm, round which with great care by the person performing the operation, he was by the motion of the straw wound round it and extracted. Others of my patients, who were mere hypochondriacs, were cured by a very common medicine in Europe, faith and imagination, which in many disorders and with many persons will kill or cure. Some of my patients I am certain were in this case, as, my dispensary running low, I was fain to substitute pills with little more than flour and water.

AURUNGABAD.

The extensive and fertile plains lying between Dowlutabad and Aurungabad, though possessing rich soils, and intersected by many streams, and in the vicinity of an imperial city, might be mistaken for a desert by those accustomed to the rich scenes of England, whose prosperity and security alike dwell together. During my ride I did not meet ten people, nor was a tenth part of the land in cultivation.

At a distance the view of Aurungabad has an imposing effect: lofty minarets peeping out from among groves of trees; the large white domes of mosques, with their gilded points, shining in the sun; a number of large terraced houses rising above the walls of the city, the whole covering a great extent of ground; but, as we approach, a different scene presents itself. After passing a large gateway, we at once enter the city, nearly half of which is in a state of decay and ruin, with a scanty population. It has the sign in every street of fallen greatness, and shows that its prosperity perished with its founder Aurungzebe.

The wall which surrounds Aurungabad is not at all calculated to sustain a regular attack. It is lower than they usually are, with round towers at intervals, and is sufficient for resisting the onset of a predatory body of either horse or foot; but Aurungzebe, in his lifetime, had no occasion to fear a regular attack in his capital: of the future