AGENCY OF THE VEGETABLE KINGDOM. In considering the peculiarities of organized products, it must be taken into account, that even in the living body, products which have once been organized, appear to be requisite for the formation of new products of organization. Thus, vegetable life is in great measure supported by the decay of former vegetables; graminivorous animals require vegetables, and carnivorous animals flesh, for their subsistence. In reference, therefore, to ourselves, we also require the products of vegetable and animal organization for our support; and the inorganic elements, or their binary compounds, are utterly inefficient as nutriment. If we now look more closely into the details upon which these statements are founded, we shall find that the vegetable kingdom is the laboratory, as it were, in which the elements of inorganic nature are so combined as to be fit for animal food; for a vegetable can live upon carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen, or at least upon carbonic acid and water, although some portion of organic matter is required for the growth of a seed, and although, during the process of germination, it feeds as it were upon itself; yet, as soon as the fibrils of its rootlet are perfected, and its leaves spread out to the sun and air, it absorbs water and carbon, and elaborates them into gum, sugar, starch, and other products; such, for instance, as we find in the grasses that cover the earth. With these the bounty of Nature has clothed the surface, and has so constituted them as to be fit for the food of graminivorous animals; in their organs they are so modified, as to become parts of themselves; and thus, the vegetable elements are transferred to the animal kingdom, through the medium of the graminivorous tribes; and through them, to man himself. GOOD INTENTION IN READING. Ir is of great importance to possess the mind, as Addison beautifully expresses it, (Spectator, No. 213,) "with an habitual good intention." I would apply this to reading. Such an intention will lead us to take up every book, on whatever subject it may be, with a view of extracting something worth preserving, either with reference to present pursuits,-excellent or beautiful in itself,-or-which may, eventually, be useful individually, or to others. Where books are not property, and where leisure admits, notes will perhaps be made, or extracts, either collective or separate, according to various subjects. It is incredible how much may be gained by such a method; how much satisfaction it affords in its progress, and how useful, after the lapse of many years, such notes and extracts have been found, either from the information thus conveyed, or the hints afforded towards the extension of studies and pursuits, which, at the time when they were made, were not within the reach of the young reader. Let It has been said, that no book is worth reading once, which is not worth reading twice. It may be said with, perhaps, greater truth, that few can be found, such as a well-principled person would read, from which something may not be gained. young people, then, acquire the habit of never taking up a book without a sincere desire to learn something from it; let them lay up what appears useful, and trut to time and opportunity to apply their stores; let them treasure all that can compensate to them for their want of experience; let them read books rather above than below their age; so will they be excited to diligence in order to comprehend and apply them fully, and be preserved from the danger of a fondness for idle books. MORNING IN A PERSIAN VILLAGE. SUN-RISE and sun-set are the hours to see a Persian village under its most characteristic aspect. By the break of day all hands are active, the shrill voices of the women are mingled with the latest notes of the "chanticleers" that sit roosted above them, and the deep barking of the watchdogs; and one may see them sallying forth from their nightly lairs, and taking to the house-tops, with garments huddled on in haste. Next come the men, caleeoon in Looking, then, at the subject in this light,—that is, considering the transfer of matter from one kingdom of nature into another; tracing the atoms from the inorganic creation, from the earth, the air, and the ocean, through the vegetable world into the animal frame, and thence, back again, from the death and decay of animals, through the organs of plants, and from them to inanimate nature, what a wonderful picture is presented of mutability on the one hand, and of indestructibility and duration on the other: the organic forms are continually in a state of pro-hand, clustering here and there around a blaze of weeds-duction and decay; the ultimate elements, permanent the young indolently shouldering their great spades, and and immutable! For chemistry teaches us, that lounging off to their tasks. Before the first rays of the what is vulgarly called decay or corruption, is merely sun are seen darting up the sky, a huge bellowing and the disposition or arrangement of the same materials, bleating makes itself heard, and from a score or two of the same ingredient elements, into other forms; not black yawning portals out rush hundreds of sheep and a single atom is ever lost or destroyed, nor is any large fierce dogs, and belaboured by a score of stout young cattle, horses, asses, and camels, bayed by several dozen of element transmuted or annihilated. Examine, for fellows with sticks and clubs, dashing, jostling, curvetting, instance, one of the most perfect cases of apparent and thundering through the narrow lanes, almost overdestruction or annihilation-that presented by fire; turning the little dwellings in their course, while the shouts a taper burns away, and gradually seems to vanish, of their drivers add to the direful din. In a few minutes and we naturally enough suppose that it is annihilated the rush has passed the gates, and all the environs of the and lost. But when the question is more exactly village are seen covered with its live stock of all descripinvestigated, what do we find actually to have hap-grazing-grounds. The elders take their post by the gate, tions, streaming in every direction to their tasks and pened? We trace, in the invisible stream of air which gazing on the departing youngsters, and waiting for the ascends from the glowing flame, all the materials or early beams of the sun to warm their stiffened limbs; but ultimate elements of the wax passing off into, and dis- still the continued yells of the old ladies and the screams solved by, the air, and wafted away into the remote and uproar of the children, mingled with the vigorous reregions of the atmosphere; the matter, however, is monstrances of their mothers, sufficiently testify that all within the walls has not yet subsided into the quiet routine not destroyed, but so far from it, has only become of the day, and it is not for some time that the cessation what it was before it existed in wax, an active agent, of the clamour gives token that the village is reduced to that is, in the business of the world; a main support its ordinary state of tranquillity.-British and Foreign of vegetable life; and still susceptible of running Review. again and again the same round, as circumstances may determine; again absorbed by plants, and again becoming a part of the frame of a living being. [Magazine of Popular Science.] As the sword of the best-tempered metal is most flexible, so the truly generous are most pliant and courteous in their behaviour to their inferiors.-FULLER. 4 POPULAR ERRORS AND SUPERSTITIONS. No. V. TALISMANS, &c. THE superstitious belief in the virtues of Talismans, Amulets, &c., which once prevailed to so great an extent, and which was maintained as much by interested knaves, as by the ignorance of their dupes, has greatly declined, though it is not extinct. The mental enlightenment which invariably follows the spread of our pure Protestant faith, has, however, almost wholly dispersed the mists of ignorance, in which such superstitions continued to linger, and among us, the very existence of such errors has already become matter of curiosity. The word Talisman, is of Arabic origin, and means, literally, figure. It is, in fact, the image, or figure, of some object deemed sacred, or otherwise appropriate, carved on wood, stone, leather, metal, or other substance, and was supposed to possess the power of protecting the owner or wearer, from danger, disease, or evil influence. The Egyptians used images of their gods, and sacred animals, as the ibis, the scarabæus*, &c.; the Greeks, little tablets inscribed with Ephesian words; the Romans had various idols and eccentric figures, which they usually wore suspended round the neck by chains; and the Turks and Arabians, to the present day, make use of sentences from the Koran. From the time of the middle ages downwards, the Roman Catholics have had their relics, consecrated candles, &c. S The virtues attributed to the scarabæus, (says Moufet,) are so numerous, that they would scarcely be believed, if we could not put faith in what Pliny says, inasmuch as a scarabæus carved on an emerald is a certain remedy against all poisons, nor is it less efficacious than the herb moly, which Mercury once gave Ulysses. Nor is it only available against these, but it is of infinite service when worn in a ring, when any one wishes to obtain audience of a king, or to ask a favour of a great man. to In some of the Mohammedan and pagan nations, the people still consider the art of writing as nearly allied to magic, and with them a scrap of paper with a few words written upon it, is an excellent charm or amulet. Our intrepid, but unfortunate fellow-countryman, Mungo Park, availed himself of this belief, when in a situation of great distress from fatigue and hunger, during his travels in Africa. A Negro, at A Negro, at whose house he lodged, applied to him for a charm of this sort. The man had been a slave to a Moor, and had embraced Mohammedanism, but afterwards returned to his own country, where he acted as a merchant; but, says Park, His knowledge of the world had not lessened that superstitious confidence in saphies, or charms, which he had imbibed in his earlier years; for when he heard I was a Christian, he immediately thought of procuring a saphie, and for this purpose brought out his walba, or writingboard, assuring me he would dress me a supper of rice if I would write him a saphie to protect him from wicked men. The proposal was of too great consequence to me to be refused; I therefore wrote the board full from top to bottom on both sides, and my landlord, to be certain of having the whole force of the charm, washed the writing from the board into a calabash with a little water, and having said a few prayers over it, drunk this powerful draught; after which, lest a single word should escape, he licked the board until it was quite dry. A saphie writer was a man of too great consequence to be long concealed: the important information was carried to the dooty, who sent his son with half a sheet of writingpaper, desiring me to write him a naphula saphie, (a charm to procure wealth.) He brought me as a present some meat and milk; and when I had finished the saphie, and read it to him with an audible voice, he seemed highly satisfied with his bargain, and promised to bring me in the morning some milk for my breakfast. • See Saturday Magazine, Vol. VII., p. 58 nent, where statues and pictures of the saints are frequently hung round with paintings, representing in a Fig. 2. The Hand of Glory possesses much more dangerous properties, if it be true that robbers avail themselves of its power to cause sleep to overcome all the inmates of a house, that they may be enabled to plunder with impunity. This is effected by holding the charm over each person. This talisman is the hand of a robber executed for his crime; the blood is to be first extracted, and then it is to be prepared with saltpetre and pepper, and dried in the sun; when perfectly dry, it is used as a candlestick, in which a candle is placed, formed of the fat of the culprit, white wax, and sesame seed. The belief in most of these strange and ridiculous errors existed much longer than it otherwise would have done, from the artificial importance with which they were clothed, in consequence of the solemn endeavours of some learned writers to reason upon their properties, instead of treating the subject with the contempt it deserved. LONDON: JOHN WILLIAM PARKER, WEST STRAND. PUBLISHED IN WEEKLY NUMBERS, PRICE ONE PENNY, AND IN MONTHLY PARTS, PRICE SIXPENCE. Sold by all Booksellers and Newsvenders in t' Kingdom. NOWLEDGE IT IS NOT GOOD Magazine. 、,。vji° ®zr4 1tja t] CalmA 8TH, 1837. Paw de abus PRICES ONE PENNY. CHANDERY CHOKE, (OR PRINCIPAL STREET,) IN DELHI. EAST INDIA STATIONS. No. IX DELHI. PART I. THERE is no place in British India which the intellectual traveller approaches with feelings more strongly excited, than the ancient seat of the Moghul empire. The proud towers of Delhi, with its venerable relics of Hindoo architecture, its splendid monuments of Moslem power, and its striking indications of Christian supremacy, cannot fail to impress the mind with sensations of mingled awe, wonder, and delight. This justly-celebrated city, which is at once the capital of the province of the same name, and the seat of government to the little which now remains of the Moghul dominion in India, is situated on the western bank of the river Jumna, 350 miles from Allahabad. The official title of the city, and indeed that by which it is known amongst the natives, is Shahjehan-poor, or "City of the King of the World," but the name of Delhi is always used in conversation, and in every writing but those which are immediately offered to the emperor's eye. On a portion of the ground which lies westward of the modern city, and which is now covered with ruins, once stood the extensive Hindoo capital of Indraput. The spot afterwards became the site of old Delhi, as founded by the Patan kings. The present city, which owes its origin to the emperor Shah Jehan, occupies a more advantageous situation. When first founded, many of the inhabitants were removed thither from the old city, and these were followed by others, attracted by the desire of being near the palace and the principal markets; and as, during the Maharatta government, there was no safety without the walls, old Delhi was soon entirely abandoned. The modern capital of the Moslem kings stands in the centre of a sandy plain, surrounded on every side with the ruins of old Delhi, which form a very curious contrast with the new suburb, the villas belonging to the Europeans attached to the residency, and with the cantonments lately erected for three regiments of sepoys. "The inhabited part of it," says Bishop Heber, "for the ruins extend over a surface as large as London, Westminster, and Southwark, is about seven miles in circuit." It is seated on a rocky range of hills, is enclosed by a splendid rampart of red granite, and entered by gateways the most magnificent which the world can boast. The walls were formerly so lofty as to conceal all save the highest towers; but these dead blanks, with their flanking turrets, like the eyries of the eagle, high in air, have been exchanged for low ramparts strengthened by massive bastions. The view of the outside is splendid; domes and mosques, cupolas and minarets, and above all, the imperial palace, a very high and extensive cluster of Gothic towers and battlements, frowning like a mountain of red granite, and the Jumna Musjeed, the largest and handsomest place of Mussulman worship in India, appear in the midst of groves of clustering trees so thickly planted, that the buildings in general being also chiefly composed of red granite, inlaid in their more ornamental parts with white marble, have been compared, in oriental imagery, to rocks of pearls and rubies, rising from In approaching the city from the east branch of the Jumna, the prospect realizes all that the imagination has pictured of Eastern magnificence: mosques and minarets glittering in the sun, some garlanded with wild creepers, others arrayed in all the pomp of gold, the exterior of the cupolas being covered with brilliant metal; and from Mount Mejnoon, over which a fine road now passes, the shining waters of the Jumna gleaming in the distance, insulating Selimgurh, and disappearing behind the halls of the peacock throne, the palace of the emperors, add another beautiful feature to the scene. The Chandery Choke, or principal street, is wide and handsome;-one of the broadest avenues to be found in an Indian city. The houses are of various styles of architecture, partaking occasionally of the prevailing fashions of the West; Grecian piazzas, porticoes and pediments, are not unfrequently found fronting the dwellings of the Moslem or Hindoo. The shops are crowded with all kinds of European products and manufactures, and many of them display sign-boards, on which the names and occupations of the inhabitants are emblazoned in Roman characters, a novel circumstance in a native city. The houses are, for the most part, white-washed; and the gaiety of their appearance is heightened by the carpets and shawls, strips of cloth of every hue, scarfs and coloured veils, which are hung out over the verandah, or on the tops of the houses to air. The crowd of an Indian city, always picturesque, is here particularly rich in showy figures of men and animals: elephants, camels, and horses, gaily caparisoned, parade through the streets, jingling their silver ornaments, and the many-coloured tufts and fringes with which they are adorned; the suwarree of a great personage, sweeping along the highways, forms a striking spectacle, when it can be viewed securely from some safe corner, or from the back of a tall elephant. The general appearance is magnificent, though to enter into details might destroy the illusion; for, mingled with mounted retainers, richly clothed, and armed with glittering helmets, polished spears, and shields knobbed with silver, crowds of wildlooking, half-clad wretches on foot are to be seen, increasing the tumult and the dust, and adding, indeed, to the number of the retinue, but nothing to the splendour of the cavalcade. No great man,Delhi is full of personages of pretension,-ever passes along in state, without having his titles shouted out by the stentorian lungs of some of his followers. The cries of the venders of different articles of food, the discordant songs of itinerant musicians, screamed out to the accompaniment of the tom-tom, with an occasional bass volunteered by a chetah, grumbling out in a sharp roar his annoyance at being hawked about the streets for sale, with the shrill distressful cry of the camel, the trumpetings of the elephants, the neighing of horses, and the grumbling of cart-wheels, are sounds which assail the ear from sunrise until sunset, in the streets of Delhi. The multitude of equipages is exceedingly great, and more diversified, perhaps, than those of any other city in the world. English carriages altered to suit the climate, and the peculiar taste of the possessor, are mingled with the palanquins and bullock-carts, open and covered, the chairs, and the cage-like and lantern-like conveyances of native construction. The chetahs and hunting-leopards are led hooded through the streets; birds in cages, Persian cats, and Persian greyhounds, are also exposed in the streets for sale, under the superintendence of those fine, tall, splendid-looking men, who bring all kinds of merchandise from Cashmere, Persia, and Thibet, to the cities of Hindostan,—an almost gigantic race, bearing a noble aspect in spite of the squalidness of their attire, and having dark, clear complexions, without a tinge of swarthiness. Beggars in abundance infest the street, and in addition to the multitudes brought together by business, there are numerous groups of lazy, idle Mussulmans, gaudily decked out in flaunting colours. Such are some few of the distinguishing features of the Chandery Choke, which abounds in hardware, cloth pään, and pastry-cooks' shops; the business, as usual, carried on in the open air, with all the chaffering, naggling, and noise, common to Asiatic dealings. By a very little attention to order and comfort, the Chandery Choke might be rendered one of the most delightful walks in the world; for, by means of the famous canal of Delhi, which, shaded by fine trees, runs down the centre, nothing could be more easy than to allay the clouds of dust, at present so intolerable, by keeping the avenues on either side well watered. and similar thanksgivings, than which nothing could have been more gratifying to the English inhabitants of the imperial city. Half-way along the Chandery Choke, which has been just described, and nearly opposite to another great street with a similar branch of the canal, which runs at right angles to the former, stands the Imperial Palace, built by the emperor Shah Jehan, surrounded on this side by a wall of about sixty feet in height, embattled and machicolated, with small round towers, and two magnificent gateways, each defended by an outer barbican of the same construction, though of less height. The whole is of red granite, and is sur rounded by a wide moat. It is a place (says Bishop Heber) of no strength, the walls being only calculated for bows and arrows, or musquetry; but as a kingly residence, it is one of the noblest that I have seen. It far surpasses the Kremlin, but I do not think that, except in the durability of its materials, it equals Windsor. This canal was originally the work of Feroze Shah; and, independent of the use above proposed for it, forms one of the greatest advantages the inhabitants of Delhi enjoy, since it affords the only supply of wholesome water which they possess. Sharing the fate of the Patan empire, it became neglected, and was at length choked up, and remained in this state for more than a hundred years. The canal was re-opened by Ali Merdan Khan, a Persian nobleman attached to the court of the emperor Shah Jehan, but was again dried up, and was useless, until the establishment of the British government; which, anxious to display its paternal care, and wishing to confer a solid and lasting benefit upon the people of the city, deter-ment, who have always points of great importance to mined upon repairing the splendid work. It is con ducted from the Jumna, immediately on leaving its mountains, and whilst its stream is yet pure and wholesome, for a distance of 120 miles. The Jumna itself, in the neighbourhood of Delhi, has quite the contrary of a fertilising character. In this part of its course, it is so strongly impregnated with natron, extensive beds of which here abound, that its waters, which during the rains overflow the country to a wide extent, destroy, instead of, like the Ganges, promoting vegetation; and the whole space between the high banks and the stream of the river, when in a low state, is a loose and perfectly barren sand, like that of the sea-shore. But the waters of the canal, on the contrary, confer fertility on a very large extent of country near its banks; and it is absolutely the sole source of vegetation to the gardens of Delhi, beside furnishing the inhabitants with a drinkable water. An undertaking of such magnitude as the restoration of this noble work by the British government, necessarily occupied a considerable period; indeed, it required three years of unremitting labour to complete it, and the expense was enormous. At length, however, in 1820, during the administration of Sir Charles Metcalfe, the whole was finished. All the inhabitants of the city, in a tumult of joy, went out to greet the approaching waters, with shouts of gratitude to the government which gave the long-desired blessing; and casting garlands of flowers, ghee-oil, and spices, into the stream, refreshing their eyes, and giving such welcome promises of fertility and abundance. Fortunately, the present rulers of India are persevering as well as enterprising; for, in the course of a few years, the canal again became dry, in consequence of a change in the channel of the Jumna, whose waters, flowing through another passage, no longer afforded the customary supply. The inhabitants of Delhi had imprudently neglected the wells, which, previously to the opening of the canal, had furnished them, though inadequately, with the precious element: the expense of obtaining water for domestic purposes was heavy, and to many almost ruinous; the gardens became deserts, and the failure of the rains increased the distress. The sufferings thus occasioned were, however, not of long duration; as soon as it was practicable, the engineer-officer, who had charge of the canal, repaired the mischief, and a second jubilee took place, attended by similar festivals The court of Delhi, notwithstanding the diminished influence of her princes, is still a place of considerable political intrigue, and is constantly resorted to by the numerous native tributaries of the British govern themselves to settle. By strangers visiting Delhi, a presentation at the court of the fallen monarch is generally desired. The account given by Bishop Heber of his reception by the then reigning prince in 1824, is so fully descriptive both of the palace and of the curious ceremonies to which he was willing, from a laudable spirit of conciliation, to submit, on the occasion, that it can hardly fail to be generally interesting. The first direct connexion between the English and the Emperor of Delhi, began under Lord Clive's government, when Shah Aulum, father of the present Acbar Shah, voluntarily, and without any stipulations, threw himself under our protection, as the only means of securing his personal liberty from the dissensions of his own subjects and the violence of the Maharattas. He was received and treated in all respects as a sovereign; had a residence assigned to him, with a large revenue of twenty-six lacs a year; and this was, in fact, the only part of his life which can be regarded as splendid or prosperous. In his anxiety to return to Delhi, he, in after-years, forfeited all these advantages, and threw himself into the power of the Maharattas, who, about a twelvemonth before, had gained possession of that city, and who were our inveterate enemies. By these new friends he was made a prisoner, and Ghoolam Khadir, the Rohilla, who a few years afterwards captured Delhi, put out his eyes, threw him into a dungeon, and murdered all the members of his family who could be found. His own life would probably have sunk under his misery, had not Ghoolam Khadir been defeated and put to death by Sindia, assisted by French officers and troops, who now, in his turn, obtained possession of his person. His condition was, however, very little improved. He was, indeed, suffered to live in his palace, and his surviving family re-assembled around him; but he and they were treated with exceeding neglect, and literally, almost starved. It was during this period, that most of the marble and inlaid ornaments of the palace were mutilated, being actually sold to buy bread for himself and his children. In this miserable state he was found by Lord Lake, who restored him to the sort of decent dependence which his son now enjoys: addressing him on all occasions in the style of a sovereign,-acknowledging the English government his fidoi, or feudatory,-and placing him, in fact, in every respect but revenue, where Lord Clive had placed him before. His revenue was fixed at ten lacs a year, which was afterwards increased to twelve, and by Lord Hastings, to fifteen, a large sum. I was glad to find that Mr. Elliott paid him every respect, and showed him every kindness in his power. I was glad, also, that I did not omit to visit him, since, independently of the interest which I have felt in seeing the ruin of a mighty stock, Mr. Elliott 306-2 |