in his head-dress of flowing silk, with long
and pendant fringe; the Scindian, in his
becoming cap, that gives every peasant the air
of a prince; the diminutive Malay, in his
national costume; the quaint Chinese, in his
broad-brimmed straw hat;—all throng the
thoroughfares in perfect independence of
the tyrant fashion; which in European cities
clips the wings of exuberant taste, and
reduces whole populations to one sombre and
monotonous hue. The brilliant rays of a
midday sun show all those iridescent tints to
great advantage, and no collection of butterflies
surpasses the denizens of Bombay in
variegated splendour. A few squalid half-
naked figures are, of course, to be seen among
this motley crowd; but the general effect is
hardly marred by their intrusion. However
various in race and appearance, one sole
and single object animates this moving
mass; one sole and single idea occupies their
thoughts: the acquisition and retention of
money. They are all traders. No Oriental,
having once amassed money, sits down to enjoy
it quietly. No such thing as retiring from
business is known or thought of. Enormous
fortunes have been accumulated in Bombay
by trade, and so keen is the commercial
ardour, that it generally devours all the other
passions of existence. The opium trade with
China has been one fruitful source of wealth
to the Bombay merchant, and the immense
riches attributed to the Parsee knight, Sir
Jamsetjee Jeejeebpoy, are entirely derived
from it. He has made a noble use of his
money; and the public establishments
suggested by his philanthropy, erected by his
bounty, and endowed by his munificence,
proclaim loudly to the world, not only his
unbounded command of money, but his
splendid application of it. He is reported to
have given away, within the last ten years,
upwards of two hundred and fifty thousand
pounds sterling to works of permanent utility.
I know no recorded example of similar
generosity, during life, in any individual in
Europe.

The Parsees are perhaps the most energetic,
enterprising, and speculating people in the
East. Generally connected with some European
mercantile house as brokers, in the first
instance, they accumulate considerable sums,
which subsequently have, in many instances,
been applied to save their employers from
ruin. The Parsee community may consist of
about fifty thousand, almost all of whom are
engaged in trade or manufactures. A few
go out to service as coachmen and butlers,
but not one is to be met with either in the army
or the police force. Next in intelligence to the
Parsees come the Hindoos, who outnumber
them sixfold. Education is making great
strides amongst this class, and the literature
of the West is fast superseding the fables
of the East. The Brahmins in Bombay are
falling rapidly into disrepute, and the true
theories of material philosophy are taking
the place of the senseless doctrines of their
ancestors. As their minds become enlightened,
the Hindoos naturally and necessarily
abandon the faith of their fathers; for
which, however, they decline to substitute
the mysteries of Christianity. Next in number
to the Hindoos stand the followers of
Mahomet, who, however, are anything but
unanimous in their doctrines. The Sheeah,
the Soornee, the Khojah, the Mehmon, the
Borah, the Mussulman from the Deccan, and
he from the Konkan, have all some
distinctive Shibboleth, but agree in the two
great points of Mahometanism—the unity of
God, and the truth of Mahomet's mission as
his prophet.

The Portuguese or native Christians form
a considerable portion of the population of
Bombay; thousands of temporary sojourners
add variety even to this variegated mass.
Armenians, Jews, Persians, Scindians, Affghans,
Beloochees, Cashmerians, Bengalese, Madrassees,
Chinese, Malays, Arabs, are to be met
with at every turn. The rich Parsees, Hindoos,
and Mussulmans drive about in very elegant
equipages, chiefly procured from London or
Liverpool; for the art of carriage-building is
not, as in Calcutta, one of those brought to
perfection in Bombay. The English settled
here are a mere handful in point of numbers;
although they are the motive and regulating
power of the whole of the other machinery.
They consist exclusively of temporary
residents, members of the two services, civil and
military, of the law, or of the mercantile
profession. No settler or colonist is to be found
here. All hope to lay their bones in England,
and, with this feeling predominant in every
English breast, it is clear that not much
permanent interest for India can be entertained
by this class.

The mode of life among the English gentry
is very pleasant. An early ride before the
sun has risen high enough to be annoying;
the indispensable cold bath; a substantial
breakfast at nine; tiffin or luncheon at two,
for those who like it; and dinner at half-past
seven, before which a ride or drive for a
couple of hours serves to dissipate the vapours
of office work—form the usual routine of
existence. Where no one is idle, there is, of
course, small time left for literary pursuits,
and the lassitude induced by the climate
renders it next to impossible to read or write
after dinner. Reading is consequently much
limited to the ephemeral productions of the
daily press. This, for India, is on rather
an extensive scale, since there are no fewer
than three morning journals, conducted with
much spirit and vigour.

Parell, the Governor's residence, is a
spacious and handsome edifice, with no
pretensions to architectural beauty, but imposing
from its magnitude. It contains excellent
private apartments, besides a magnificent
suite of reception rooms. A ball here in
January or February, when everybody is at