of man never penetrated: here, in the very bottom, peeping out of the deep foliage, gleam the waters of a few meandering streams, which have their sources in unknown parts of the mountains. Beyond this immense hollow are seen the forms of vast mountains, towering away, as far as the eye can reach, in rude and magnificent outline, till they are lost in the clouds, or their continuity only known by their rent clefts and peaks peering through the light blue veil of mist. In some parts of the road the passage is guttered by little streams of water, that run gurgling down the precipitous fronts of the rock, affording a pleasing, soothing sound, as we trace our course through these sequestered spots. Not quite half way up, is a small patch of table land, where the traveller is sure to halt and take some refreshment, not more for the purpose of recruiting his strength than regaining his wind; for, what with clambering, slipping, and proceeding up a very steep ascent, great personal exertion is required. At this spot, the convoys of bullocks, carrying merchandize to and fro, halt for an extra day and night, if greatly fatigued. In their night encampments they take every precaution against thieves and wild beasts: they select the mural side of an open spot to place their cattle: thus the steep side of the mountain flanks one side, while the bags containing the produce they carry are piled up to some height, and, when placed, form something like the segment of a circle within are the families, and sometimes cattle. One or two watchmen are stationed on the top, while fires are burning in front. Their dogs (the Brinjare) are a valuable breed, fierce, strong, and watchful-evidently a cross of the wolf and domestic dog. Thus will these carriers travel for 1000 miles with a convoy of as many laden bullocks; and they are very punctual and honest in their dealings. Without their aid, according to the mode of warfare in India, whole armies would be starved. They always go well armed, and in critical times have escorts. They have paths and routes known only to themselves, which they traverse from one extremity of India to the other. THE NATIVES. The Hindoos, in all situations, are a docile, cheerful, good-tempered people : what vicious qualities they do possess are owing to the wretched and arbitrary rule under which they live. It is truly astonishing what arduous and long journeys these poor afflicted people will perform, for a few pence, in the most tempestuous seasons; swimming large and impetuous rivers, penetrating soli tary and unknown routes through immense forests infested by beasts of prey and banditti, exposed to the mid-day sun, and sleeping on the ground nightly, for weeks together-their whole sustenance daily being only two or three handfuls of parched grain, and often bad water to allay their thirst; yet are these poor wretches always good-humoured, faithful to their em ployers, and, as husbands and fathers, examples to us. It is not uncommon to find a labouring Hindoo supporting his wife's relatives and his own parents who are past work, with contentment and cheerfulness. It is true these people are gross idolaters, but they practise many vir tues which we Christians lack the observance of. It would strike with wonder a stranger to observe a body of coolies conveying a pipe of wine, a 24pounder, or an 80-gallon cask of beer up the defile, at the top of which we have just arrived. THE GHATS. Having now said something of the Mahratta country and the Hindoo people, it only remains to offer a few brief remarks on the great range of mountains improperly called Ghats, and to take a peep at the great excavated temple of Karli (Ekverah). This will occupy us until our arrival at the temples of Elora. In the intervening country there is nothing to gratify the philantrophist, instruct the legislator, or please the philosopher; no flourishing towns, public institutions, or learned communities; no splendid buildings, fine bridges, or beautiful gardens; nothing, in fact, to denote prosperity or happiness. Compared with the Brit ish provinces, it may be truly called one wild waste. Wherever the Mahratta comes, the land is cursed. A few mud-built huts, where the remnants of a scattered people have horded together for mutual protection, are the only signs of civilization that these fertile plains present for one hundred and fifty miles. Worse than the locust or beast of prey, what Mahratta warfare could not utterly destroy, hordes of Bheel and Pindarries were hired and introduced into these countries to effect. But I have done with the sickening tale, afflicting to narrate, and dreadful to view. The chain of mountains, among which we have now encamped, extends from Cape Comorin, opposite Ceylon, in one unbroken series (with the exception of an opening at Paniany in the Malabar country, of about twelve miles broad), stretching away, in a northern line, to the province of Candeish, and not far distant from Surat. In no part do they exceed fifty miles from the sea, and in one part only do they approach closer than eight miles. There are but few passes known to us; and till men of science investigate this stupendous barrier, we are likely to know but little about them. The mountains of which we are now speaking, decrease in altitude about thirty miles to the northward of Bombay to the southward of Poona the passes, I am told, have a northern descent; stretching along to the southward, they separate what is generally called Malabar, supporting the Mysore and Soondah countries in the form of a terrace. With the exception of the opening at Paniany before mentioned, and the few passes formed by the industry of man, or the action of mountain torrents, it is one connected wall for nearly nine hundred miles; this vast belt enclosing the rich country within the Ner-Budha river. These mountains are said to average from 3000 to 5500 feet in height, prolific in all the wonders and beauties of nature. In the high mountains to the southward much valuable meteorological data might be obtained, for, while below (Payeen) it is raining in torrents for three successive months, in the Table-land above (Bala G'hat) it is the fine season. Numerous rivers in 26 ATHENEUM VOL. 2. 2d series. tersect the low country, which, during the S. W. monsoon, run with astonishing velocity; some few, that have their sources in the mountains, have the whole year a shallow stream. TEMPLE OF EKVERAH. I proceeded across the open country to the left, to the mountain of Ekverah; where, at a considerable height above the plain, stands a large temple, hewn out of the solid rock. On the left of a terrace at the end of the footpath, excavated from the bowels of the mountain, stands, in solemn magnificene, the great arched temple of Karli, with its noble vestibule and entrance, and the sitting figure of Budha. On looking into the temple, an object of wonder presents itself: a ponderous arched roof of solid stone, supported by two rows of pillars; the capitals of each surmounted by a well-sculptured male and female figure, seated, with their arms encircling each other, on the back of elephants, crouching as it were, under the weight they sustain. At the further end of the temple is an immense hemispherical altar, of stone, with a kind of wooden umbrella spread over the top. There is no idol in front of the great altar, as at Elora: the umbrella covering, before spoken of, rises from a wooden pedestal out of the convexity of the altar. A Brahman, whom I questioned on the subject of the altar, exclaimed, in nearly the words of our own poet, "Him first, Him last, Him midst, Him without end." In alluding to the Almighty, he nearly spoke as above described, placing his hands on this circular solid mass. He rejected all idea of assimilating Budha, or Brahma, with the " Eternal God;" who, he said, was one alone from beginning to end, and that the circular altar was his emblem. A concourse of priests and fakeers, supported by the Peishwa, lived here. One of them, an ascetic of high renown, had a singularly mild and serene countenance: he was sitting before a flame of fire day and night, with a cloth over his mouth, to prevent his inhaling pollution, or destroying any living substance: he was regularly fed with parched grain, and his water for drinking was strained * A Brahman at Benares was so cautious of causing the death of any living animal, that before him, as he walked, the place was swept, that he might not destroy any insect: the air was fanned as he ate, for the same purpose. Some mischievous European gave him a microscope, to look at the water he drank. On seeing the animalculæ, he threw down and broke the instrument, and vowed he would not drink water again: he kept his promise, and died. Concluded in our next. SIR, FRENCH COOKERY. Of Anthropophagi, and men whose heads and button maker, and should prefer IAM an alderman and button-ma- being interred in Aldermanbury. ker in the city, and I have a taste for sea-coal fires, porter, roast-beef, and the LONDON MAGAZINE. My son Bob, and my daughter Fanny, on the contrary, use to dislike all these good things-the last excepted: and prevailed with me to go and spend a month or two in Paris in the spring of this year. I knew that my son loved me as well as French cookery-and my daughter nearly as well as aFrench gown: so I unfortunately and affectionately complied with their desire-and have repented it ever since. However, my journey has not been altogether thrown away, as it has reconverted Bob to beef, and as it gives me an opportunity of relating the wonders of French cookery-a matter which in all your articles upon the French you have unaccountably neglected. The French Revolution was no doubt brought about by the national fondness for necks of mutton and men à Pécarlate; and the national hatred to the English is still visible in their attempts to poison them with their dishes:-a consummation not at all to my taste, even with the prospect of being buried in Pére la Chaise. As I am a plain man, alderman for me, those It has long been the reproach of the French, and you are among who have echoed it, that they are not a poetical people. But at least their cooks are. Must not a cook, Mr. Editor, be inflamed with the double fires of the kitchen and poetry, when he conceives the idea of fountains of love, starry aniseed, capons' wings in the sun, and eggs blushing like Aurora-followed (alas! what a terrible declension!) by eggs à la Tripe? ! consider their beef in scarlet, their sauce in half mourning, and their white virgin beans, as examples of the same warm and culinary fancy. Not to say any thing of the vulgar plates of frogs, nettles, and thistles, what genius there is in the conception of a dish of breeches in the royal fashion, with velvet sauce-tendons of veal in a peacock's tail—and a shoulder of mutton in a balloon or a bagpipe! Sometimes their names are so fanciful as to be totally incomprehensible, especially if you look for them in a dictionary: such as a palace of beef in Cracovia-strawberries of veal the amorous smiles of a calf-a fleet with tomata sauce-and eggs in a looking-glass.t * Puits d'amour.-Anis etoile.-Ailes de poularde au Soleil.-Eufs a l'Aurore.-Bœuf a l'ecarlate.— Sauce en petit deuil.-Haricots Vierges. Culotte a la Royale, sauce veloute.-Tendons de veau en queue de paon.-Epaule de mouton en ballon, en musette.Palais de boeuf en Cracovie.-Fraises de veau.-Ris de veau en amourette.-Flette, sauce Tomate-Œufs au miroir. But there are many of their dishes which are monstrous; and in my mind not only prove the French capability of eating poisons but their strong tendency to cannibalism. Great and little asps-fowls done like lizards-hares like serpents-and pigeons like toads or basilisks-are all favourite dishes: as are also a hash of huntsmen, a stew of good Christians, a mouthful of ladies, thin Spanish women, and four beggars on a plate. One of their most famous sauces is sauce Robert, which I remember to have read of in Fairy Tales as the sauce with which the Ogres used to eat children. My daughter found one dish on the carte which alarmed us all-Eglefin à la Hollandaise: and after trying a long time, she remembered it was something like the name of somebody of whom she had taken lessons of memory. I suppose they had taken the poor devil from his name to be a Dutchman, and had accordingly drest him à la Hollandaise.* are, They like liver of veal done to choke you, and pullets like ivory-so called, I suppose, from their toughness and hardness. Other dishes on the contrary, quite shadowy and unsubstantial: such as an embrace of a hare on the spit-partridge's shoe-soles-a dart and a leap of salmon-the breath of a rose-a whole jonquil or biscuits that would have done honour to the Barmecide's feast.t The French have a way of serving up their dishes which is as extraordinary as the rest. What should we think of whitings in turbans-smelts in dice boxes-a skate buckled to capers-gooseberries in their shifts, and potatoes in their shirts? Should we not think any Englishman very filthy whose cook should send up cutlets in hair-papers-truffles in ashes --and squirted seed-cakes?--and whose dinner-bell should announce to us what they call a ding-dong in a daub? The military dispositions of the French are discoverable even in their cookery. They have large and small bullets-carbonadoes innumerablesyrup of grenades-and quails in laurels: and I have often heard dishes called for, which sounded to my ear very like "ramrods for strangling," and "bayonets for the gendarmes." But I may easily have been mistaken in French words, when I can't understand what they call English ones-some of which seem to have undergone as complete a change by crossing the Channel, as most of our country women. Who could recognize, for example, in wouelche rabette, hochepot,panequet, minsies paës,plomboudine, or mache potetesse, the primal and delightful sounds of Welsh rabbit, hotch-potch, pancake, mincepies, plum-pudding, and mashed potatoes? But the French seem fond of far-fetched dishes: they get their thistles from Spain, and their cabbages from Brussels, and their artichokes from Barbary in Turkish turbans.|| The French boast that their language is the clearest in the world. I should like to know what they mean by a skate fried raw, or big little peaches ?” ** I can easily comprehend mouton à laGasconne, however; and an epigramme d'agneau is as insipid as a French epigram always is. As I have got a corner of my paper still blank, my son Bob begs me to let him spoil it with a few verses which he says are German to French Cookery. Sir, your very obedient humble servant, Aldermanbury. TIMOTHY WALKINSHAW, Button-maker and Alderman. * Grand et petit Aspic.-Poulet eu lezard.-Lievre en serpent.-Pigeon a la Crapaudine, en basilic. -Salmi de chasseurs.-Compota de bons Chretiens.-Bouchee de Dames.-Espagnoles maigres.-Quatre mendians. Veau a l'etouffade.—Poulets a l' ivoire.-Accolade de lievre a la broche.-Semelles de Perdrix.-Une darde et un saute de Saumon.-Souffle de rose.-Uune jonquille entiere.-Biscuits manques. Merlans en turban.-Eperlans en Cornets.-Raie bouclee aux capres-Groseilles et pommes de terre en chemise.-Coteleites en papillotes.-Truffes a la cendre.-Massepains seringues,-Dindon en daube. Gros et petits boulets.-Carbonades de mouton, &c.-Sirop de grenades.-Cailles aux lauriers. In the last two names our worthy Correspondent probably alludes to Ramereaux a l'etouffade, and Beignets a la gendarme. Cardons d'Espagne.-Choux de Bruxelles.-Artichauts de Barbarie en bonnet de Turc. **Raie frite a cru-Peches grosses-mignonnes. DR. FORDYCE. (This it shocks all my senses to utter, Yet with Holy Writ truths you may rank it) And they eat a Ray fried in black butter, And can make a meal on a fowl blanket.Į 4. If we don't like our beef in balloons, Nor sheeps' tails prepared in the sun; And prefer a boil'd cod far before a Tough skate which is only half done : 5. If we don't want our veal done to choke us, Don't agree with the stomachs at all VARIETIES. The celebrated anatomist and chemical lecturer, Dr. George Fordyce, dined every day for more than twenty years at Dolly's chop-house. His researches in comparative anatomy bad led him to conclude, that man, through custom, eats oftener than nature requires, one meal a day being sufficient for that noble animal the lion. At four o'clock, his accustomed hour of dining, the Doctor regularly took the seat at a table always reserved for him, on which were placed a silver tankard full of small ale, a bottle of port wine, and a measure containing a quarter of a pint of brandy. The moment the waiter announced him, the cook put a pound and a half of rump steak on the gridiron, and on the table some delicate trifle, as a bonne bouche, to serve until the steak was ready. This was sometimes half a broiled chicken, sometimes a plate of fish; when he had eaten this, he took one glass of brandy, and then proceeded to devour his steak. We say devour, because he always eat so rapidly, that one might have imagined he was hurrying away to a patient to deprive death of a dinner. When he had finished his meal, he took the remainder of his brandy, having, during his dinner, drunk the tankard of ale, and afterwards the bottle of port! He thus daily spent an hour and a half of his time, and then returned to his house in Essex-street, to give his six o'clock Lecture on Chemistry. He made no other meal until his return next day, at 4 o'clock, to Dolly's. HIGHWAYWOMEN ! About 11 o'clock on Thursday se'night, as Mr. William Ratcliffe, a traveller from he was attacked, in Back Piccadilly, by a Wolverhampton, was returning to the inn, number of females, who, pinioning him agaiust the wall, tore open his waistcoat, and after a rude search into the secret recesses of his wardrobe, succeeded in pil. laging him of cash to the amount of 1001. SMOKING TOBACCO. This is proved to be such a real enjoy ment, that a confirmed smoker shall be let him keep his fingers from the bowl, or blind-folded after taking three whiffs; and heated part of the pipe, puff away for ten minute, and he shall not know whether his pipe is a-light or otherwise!—Economist. A law student calling one day on a painter, found him engaged in copying a Raphael. "Upon my soul," says Quitam, “but I like you amazingly, as far as you have gone." "Do you, indeed, my boy," replied the Artist; "well, you're a young lawyer, and may be a Judge ?" " "George," said the King to Colman, know that ?" majesty and, secondly, because my in- Bob calls cooks “the devil's own legion," from the well-known fact of their being sent from even a hotter place than they occupy upon earth. He alludes in the last part of the verse to the kind of bean called vierge, which the French stew, and to the bon Chretien grille. Pigeons a la crapaudine.-Aspic de veau.-Feuilletage.-Tendons de mouton aux racines.—Lievre es serpent.-Pigeon en basilic.-Poulet en lezard.-Civet de lievre. Boeuf a l'ecarlate-Sauce en petit deuil.-Fanchonnettes.-Charlotte de pommes.-Bouchee de Dames, a kind of cake.-Raie au beuerre noir.-Blanquette de volaille. Boeuf en ballon.-Epaule d'agneau en musette.-Dents de loup, a sort of biscuit.—Macarons jumeaux. -Trufles a la Serviette.-Eufs a l'Aurore.-Queues de mouton au Soleil.-Raie frite a cru. [ Veau a l'etouffade.-Poulets a l'ivoire.-Noix de veau a la gendarme.-Mouton a la Gascoune. |