Sir George Doughty M.P. for Grimsby goes to India & writes a journal of his trip for publication in his newspaper.

Sir George Doughty M.P. for Grimsby, Lincolnshire, England was the uncle of my grandfather Stanley DOUGHTY. He commenced his working life as an apprentice joiner, and eventually became a builder, and later a director of a trawling company.As a member of the Methodist Church he spent some time learning to make speeches, and eventually went into local politics, and eventually became Mayor of Grimsby and later their member of Parliament. He was knighted in 1904.

On Sunday 13th January, 1907, Sir George Doughty left Grimsby on the train to London, whence he travelled on the train to Marseilles to join the P O Steamer "Macedonia". He owned the newspaper "Grimsby Telegraph", so made notes in his diary & telegraphed the entries to Grimsby whence it was published in his newspaper.
Grimsby Central Library, Local History Department  has a microfilm record of this account which I have obtained and then copied the entries into a word document. Some of the microfilm  entries are very hard to read, so when the staff tried to scan the microfilm entries, some of the results were very difficult to read, so  some of the entries I haven't been able to copy. In some cases when I have been trying to read & type the entry, I have placed dots on the line for the words I can't make out. However, the entries I can read  I will put into this blog.

A Journey to the East

Rough Notes from my Diary (by Sir George Doughty, M.P.)

Number 1)

Grimsby Telegraph February 18 1907

Although I am 3,531 miles from Grimsby and have looked on many strange and varied scenes since leaving there I still retain a vivid recollection of the hearty send-off so many of my friends and supporters gave me on Sunday evening. I t was one touched me greatly and added to the interest and pleasure of the journey.

It is this general kindly solitude which has prompted me to send these rough notes from my diary so that my many Grimsby friends may travel in imagination with me and thereby get some faint idea of the conditions under which the varied races of men live as well as of those wonders of Nature and antiquity which always arouse the greatest reverence in those who see them for the first time. I make no pretence of having what others may have been blind to, nor do I for a moment assume because a man has been five minutes in a place that he knows more about it than a native; neither is it my wish to assume the role of oracle a give you wisdom while you wait. No I write as a friend and neighbour and altogether eschew the delights of the yarn spinning globe trotter.

It is unnecessary to detail the early stages of the journey or to speak of Paris when it is but a few hours from Charing Cross. But no one can land at Marseilles without being profoundly impressed with its beauty, its enterprise, its wealth and energy. With a history dating back to unknown antiquity this greatest port of the Mediterranean is still one of the most modern of cities. It possesses the finest streets in Europe-one being three miles long-and is remarkable for the size and magnificence of its public buildings. Then it has a magnificent harbour and some fine docks, while it's business energy greatly impresses the stranger. But as every other beautiful city it has its shadows, for stowed away in the back is the old city. There are narrow crooked streets, and ramshackle buildings are to be found and where honest poverty is compelled of necessity to herd cheek by jowl with vice. One of the most valuable assets of Marseilles is however the weather. In mid-January when blizzards were sweeping the Northern Seas and King-Frost was gripping the good people of Grimsby or they were shivering in the raw damp air which only ardent lovers can withstand. Marseilles was basking in a summer like sun. When we left it was an ideal day, and as we sat on the deck of the Macedonia with the sun shining gloriously a blue cloudless sky above a calm crystal sea and a gently breeze sweeping from the land, and the towers and pinnacles of the receding port glittering white and clear like the filaments of a fairy city it was difficult to realise that we were not in the month of June instead of January.

About nine o' clock of the night of the day following our departure from Marseilles we passed within three miles of Stromboli, one of the few active volcanoes in the Mediterranean. We could see its great grim dark form towering like a huge shadow in the air with an umbrella like can of thick ruddy tinted smoke from which we're constantly emitted vivid flashes of lightning. From the crater too, we could see streams of lava emerge and course down the mountain side a brilliant hand of white light wonderfully beautiful and giving no indication that it carried death and destruction in its path. As the deeper shadow like valleys were lit up from time to time one could imagine one saw houses and vineyards and even more people fleeing for their lives. This sight more than repaid us for our disappointment at seeing Vesuvius quiet, but by and by we entered the Land of Nod, and when we awoke next morning we found a rough sea and a blustering wind to remind us that King Neptune is an erratic monarch.

On the Sunday following my departure from Grimsby I experienced my first storm in the Mediterranean. It is certainly something to remember, for the great ship rolls and lurches and tosses and then quivering as though heading herself up for a big struggle throws herself at the great oncoming waves as though in savage glee and splitting them asunder sends them flying aside hissing and snarling like a myriad of angry serpents. And above the stormy turmoil the crescent moon sheds a shower of silvery light until the tossing waves look like things of life bent on the destruction of the huge ship. Few got much sleep that night. However hardly a sailor one might be it is difficult to become accustomed to a bombardment of furniture, boots, boxes and all other etceteras wherewith modern man encumbreth himself when he goeth down to the sea in ships. But matters went worse on Monday when we were pelted with the food while sat at the table trying to partake a meal.

Happily Tuesday heralded in a kindly sun and a less restless sea, and we could consequently pay sufficient attention to the external world to exchange greetings with several homeward bound steamers and an Austrian Man o' War. In the middle of the afternoon we entered Port Said which is anything but a pretty place. It is in fact a harbour on the make. Sir Charles Cayzer's agent boarded the boat and kindly offered to show us around, an offer which some of us gladly accepted. It required a lot of imagination to see beauty in Port Said, for everything is given up to utility, and nothing is wasted on ornaments. The quay is fairly good and there a number of modern houses, but the native town is filthy in the extreme, and one wonders in passing through it that the population of 42, 000 souls is not speedily swept away by a pestilence, but the people seen happy enough. I suppose they derive infinite entertainment in extracting "backsheesh" from the luckless visitor, who is apparently sent for the special purpose of being fleeced. There are of course a number of shops where I am told a good business is done for according to old staggers there is an understanding existing between the tradesmen and the guides to show the guileless visitor round whereby the latter is a willing sacrifice to the shop after which the two natives share the spoils and thereby receive individual satisfaction for the little incident of nearly three thousand years ago when the Egyptians were so effectively spoiled.

As this is the largest coaling station in the world, over a million and half tons of bunker coal being shipped everywhere one would have expected that the art of coaling would have been brought to perfection. But it isn't. Labour is too lean for that. In fact the process is most untidy and is done is the most primitive manner. Four freighters holding I suppose 200 tons each are ranged alongside and then as many natives as can stand side by side set to work with baskets carrying the coal to the scuppers. I was amazed at the zest that these men worked. They actually seemed to enjoy and panted and chuckled and laughed as though they were taking part in a football match or a remunerative tug of war. The only time I saw Englishmen work as hard as they did was when they play and in labour of that kind the British are hard to beat. Whatever the driving power these men worked with such despatch that by ten o' clock at night the whole of the coal was in the ship.

On the other hand the manner in which the mails were transferred from the boats arriving from Brindisi to the Macedonia was a marvel of quickness and organisation. Although there were thousands of bags everyone was examined and reported on before it was slung on the board the liner from the raft and the entire work was finished in two hours.

Something like a feeling of surprise comes over one entering the Canal to find it so narrow, for despite its importance and enormous traffic which passes the capacity of it will only allow me vessel through at a time and though there are regular stages where ships can pass one another. It is of course always possible to be wise after the event but one cannot but reflect that if it had been double the width the saving to the world's shipping trade would have been enormous. For the most part the surroundings of the Canal are barren and uninteresting in the extreme. The average English conception of these artificial Waterways is of a stretch of fresh water running through woods and pleasant meadows, or bleak moorlands and crowded cities. Here, however, there is an absence of greenery, for we are not in the land where rain seldom if ever falls, and where the earth can only be made fruitful by irrigation from the Nile or from some artificial supply. As far as the eye can reach there is the .... sand dune or the undulating plain and also misses the infinite charm and variety notably associated with canal life in .... I have, however to traverse the next few miles I will not anticipate.
During our brief stay the Governor.... to Ismailia, where we had a good view of the fresh water canal which supplies Port Said and a number of other places with water from waterworks that are situated on an island and next to it is a very nice garden-an unusual sight in Egypt.
Prior to our departure of the Macedonia from Port Said I took the opportunity to have a look at the natives and .... the scene with the familiar ..... Although old King Coal may ... supreme here the people show the interest for gorgeous colours so peculiar for this part of the Orient. Groups of natives who move about with amazing volubility were dressed all in white, although they moved amongst the masses of Coal, and busy .... during the livelong day. Others affected .....   with the most divergent tints, but in everything that wore them with grace  and even the most ragged carrying his .... with the dignity of a professor of quality.
To the stranger fresh from London, the women are always a curious ....... ones at Port Said as in the other Moslem countries the women wear the nargall or as many of your readers will know this is more likely to be known as  a veil supported between two pieces of cane about four inches long ...... covering the upper part of the nose ..... free but hiding the nose, ..... and part of the face. How all these women manage to gossip or chat to persons in the shops I do not know, but I do wonder what the good .... would do if they were being .... an instrument of torture. Presumably they get consolation in the ...... harems, for these veils are ..... prying men folk may not .... and are laid aside when the they get home or in the company of many friends. I take it therefore that the pastime of gossiping....

The rest I just cannot read.

 A journey to the East: Rough notes from my Diary: No. 2: By Sir George Doughty, M.P.
Published in the Grimsby Telegraph Friday 25 February 1907:

While the departure bell is ringing I will take my leave of the imaginative and varied natives who undertake to show visitors the wonders of Port Said. We were driven round the place in a phaeton drawn by a couple of ponies. The Egyptian who drove us was certainly a modern opportunist for he was all things to all men, and solemnly assured us that his mother was Irish, his father French and that he "liked" the English. Then he described all the places of worship, and gave an account of their varied religions. As he drove us down the narrow dirty streets, he shouted at everybody we met. Presently he turned into a square where there was a public garden. Here he posed, and exclaimed dramatically, "Gentlemen, this is Leicester Square; a very lively place at night!" Its real name was Lesseps'-square, so called after the famous constructor of the Canal; only a slight lapsus linguae on the part of the Jehu, and as he had taken his departure before we discovered the slip one could not tax him with his slip-shod veracity.
After leaving the great artificial harbour of 430 acres, we steamed slowly between the long moles which protect the channel from the wash of the Mediterranean, and entered the great, sandy marsh, called by courtesy Lake Menzaleh. In the time of the old Egyptians these marshes were watered by the life-giving and wealth-creating waters of the great Nile, and rich crops of corn twice a year blessed the labour of the patient husbandmen. But the salt waters of the Mediterranean swept in, and thereafter the land was given over to wild fowl and the blood-red flamingo, clouds of which now rise in the air and sweep like ruddy flames across the blue heavens.
The sun plays strange pranks in this land of shimmering heat. Of times spectacles of shining pools and fertile lands are seen reflected in the heavens, but they always fade like a vision of the night, for we are in the land of mirage and of veritable castles in the air. Unfortunately, we saw none of these wonders, but had to content ourselves instead with gazing at some  distant ruins(which are stated to date from the time of Ramases the Great, the most famous of all the Pharoahs), and the monotonous track of the railway, which leaves the Canal at this point for Ismailia. Although the prospect is dreary enough in all conscience, we are compelled to drag reluctantly on our way, for steamships are not allowed to travel at a great speed than six miles an hour lest the wash should erode the sides and therefore seriously damage the Canal. When the banks along the entire length are protected by stone, then ships may perchance complete the 100 miles in 24 hours instead of the 34 they now spend. Although this is a great improvement on the 48 and half hours taken when the Canal was first opened. This curtailment has been brought about by increasing the number of places where vessels can now pass each other, the Canal having been widened out every five or six miles for this purpose.

The widening of the Canal is an extremely important question to the mercantile community of the world generally. I verily believe that if this great waterway were under English official control instead of under that of France, it would be speedily widened, especially as I understand it would be done for about £4,000,000. There is not a single engineering difficulty, we have experience to guide us, there is no financial or other risk, and it is only a question of money. The work would obviously be expedited, and a good many political difficulties be swept away if the Canal were made an international waterway. If this widening were done the journey would only take about a third the time it now does.

In due course we find ourselves between level stretches of sand. We are in the desert, those arid, inhospitable plains which contained so many terrors for primitive man, but which have been effectually subdued by all conquering science. As far as the eye can reach, there is the same monotonous, tawny expanse, not a bush nor tree, nor one of those yellow wiry blades of grass which grow on the sand dunes bordering some of our coasts of Britain. The warm sun shines down from the clearest of skies, and save to the throbbing and vibration of the leviathan whereon we travel and the paragon of the small talk, which sounds so strange in this land of the Pharoahs and the eternal Sphinx. There is not the slightest sound to break the oppressive quietness which broods upon the ...................half the distance.

Still onward through the desert, the sandy plains passing before us like a great panorama, till we enter the Bitter Lakes-the great expanses of water some 23 miles long. They are of no great depth and the navigable channel is only 30 yards wide. But it is well buoyed, and splendidly lighted by electric lamps on the tops of great iron pillars. These lakes, in common with Lake Timsah, are a continuation of the great natural depression which was generally followed in the making of the Canal. At one time they were a branch of the Red Sea. On being separated from it, however, the water evaporated leaving a considerable layer of salt. When the first stage of the Canal was made and the waters of the Mediterranean flowed into these ancient lakes, they were of course intensely salt, hence their name, but the currents which alternately flow from one se to the other during certain parts of the year have greatly reduced their saline character. 

Travelling by night through the Canal is quite interesting as by day, for it is not only well-lighted, but the work of the pilots is rendered much easier because of the ships carrying electric lights at the bow, the stern and the sides, and as the traffic is under the most perfect control, the liability of accident or damage to the Canal is reduced to the smallest possible chance. 

As we traverse the Bitter Lakes, we can see away to the westward the Freshwater Canal. Its course is clearly marked by the verdant banks and long line of tufted palms. The making of this freshwater canal is one of the many blessings which civilisation has conferred on Egypt. Its construction was absolutely necessary as a preliminary to the making of the great maritime Canal, for there was not a drop of fresh water along the entire course which the latter was to traverse. The land was equally barren of food for man and beast. A Canal was accordingly cut from the Nile to Port Said, with a branch running past Ismailia to the Ship Canal. It is 55ft wide and 6 and half feet deep, and it is higher than the great Canal. There are two locks at Ismailia to allow entrance into the larger waterway. 

On leaving Lake Timsah we enter upon the third and last stage of the Canal. This portion is by far the most complete in as much as it has hard banks and is therefore capable of permitting a higher rate of speed. The intention is to protect the banks along the entire length of the Canal proper by means of stone pitching, set in cement, and also to plantations of reeds and tamarisks in order to give firmness to the loose sand. We are in the midst of the desert in which the Israelites wandered and the old Bible story of the weary marches of the chosen people take on a more graphic reading as the hot sun pours down on the dreary sands, so entirely devoid of shade, water and life. When within 12 miles of Suez we come to Shallouteh, where there is a railway station. Traces of an ancient canal are to be found here, and we pass for four miles through a narrowed cutting in the El Tarraba Hills, the banks being 40ft high. And so on past Madama where the old canal can be distinctly traced, and a ruined monastery is seen on top of the hill. We are now within six miles of Suez and the passengers are on the alert, for all are eager to gaze on its famed natural beauty after our 34 hours of desert monotony.

We anchored in the Gulf of Suez about midday, and consequently saw the surroundings at their best. It was a perfect day, and a glorious sun was streaming down from one of those wonderful skies which can only be met in the radiant East. Within bowshot was the beautiful quay with its adornment of pal and other trees, while a number of beautiful houses of white and varied colours acted as a striking background. Turning to gaze on the more distant view, the eye was insensibly drawn to the waters of the bay, so exquisitely beautiful were they in their ethereal blue-a sight to remember for a lifetime, and to recall with pleasure and longing when the grey mists of the North more have me in their grip and the other side of the bay, the hills rise and are robed in brown and purple and are shimmering in the warm sites of mystical outposts of fairyland. 

The country hereabouts is more than a passing interest, for the ...... yet see the tall palm trees around the great oasis which bears the name of ....... and the long line of grey hills are known as the Mountains of ...... and on a clear day, Jebel Moosa, or "Mountain of Moses", can be seen.

I was greatly impressed with the town of Suez, which is ..... of the modern town. It is ..... remote past. It has been the ..... for the conquering faces of ..... long anterior to the days of the shepherd kings descended.... subjected its peace-loving people.... rule. The Israelites rested here during their wandering to and fro, and the people of Phoenicia came with their .... people and tin and primitive maritime vessels aroused the envy and admiration of the ancient world. Here also in the philosophic and adventurous times ....... their quest of new and rich ..... the all-conquering Romans, the career and conquest and colonial ..... days the fierce Mohammedans and the fire and sword on their ...... conversion, and invaded this ...... and still later came the ...... founding an Empire and ..... on Europe. Here, likewise ..... galleys of the mercantile ..... adventurous Portuguese and ...... ambitious French, who ..... all things. Last of all came .... are transforming this old .... a region of liberty, peace.... opportunity permit, a .... enjoyable, for the district also.... historic interest and the .... a visit.

In view of the excavation..... carried out in connection with .... Docks, it may be of interest .... leave of the Suez Canal .... quantity of earth excavated .... cubic yards, and that gave work to 25,000 natives were employed .... for the most part ... away the earth to a ..... which dredges carried ... and afterwards to 28 and ... the bottom is 72 feet, while .... from 328 feet to 190 feet in .... waterway, there being something ... to form a slope of 2 to 1. Down .... the total cost of the Canal was .... a large sum has consequently.... since then. As the consequence... company was for 99 years .... Empire until 1968. It need hand ... the Great Powers do ... denationalise the Canal the question .... will be an important one. 

At last we bid goodbye to the Canal at Suez and pass through the ..... our last look at the well .... of the Canal, for a great earthwork .... guides it into the sea on the ... while a mole serves the .... south east.

By the Thursday evening we .... entering the waters of the Red Sea and even though it is winter, the sun is exceedingly.... only what one might expect.... probably the hottest part of the .... look out for the Mountain of ...and Mount Ararat, which can be ... on the Arabian coast, and .... the former not of the latter.

On Sunday morning, about .... see, appropriately enough .... Twelve Apostles. They are .... inviting, seeing that they are without any resemblance of .... house. They are soon .... race onward to Aden, where we stay long enough to Coal. Although .... is 30,000 there is little ...traveller to a lengthened stay is .... wishes to undertake a shooting .... , where big game .... however, obtain permission from the Consul- General of the .... .

Our coal bunkers being ... the great liner, is turned ... Ocean, and we commence ... Bay, some of the wonders of .... describe in my next letter. 

A Journey to the East-Rough Notes from my diary No. 3
By Sir George Doughty, M.P. published March 11, 1907, in Grimsby Telegraph.

We arrived at Perim, an important Naval coaling station, and consequently find a guard in garrison, and large quantities of coal stored for the use of our Navy. From thence to Aden we had the Coast of Arabia on one side and that of Sudan and Somaliland on the other-a barren, uninteresting coastline. But we were more than compensated by the glory of the sea and sky. Above us was the speckles blue vault of heaven and around an unruffled azure sea. As the brilliant sunshine poured down in one unbroken stream I could not but wish that a little of its genial warmth could be transferred to cheer up our fickle friend the English climate. Then how can I describe the marvellous sunsets which diffused a gentle a gentle glow all around, and tinged the peaks of Aden with ruddy fire and varying golden tints, ever changing and graduating through the colours of the rainbow until one felt as though one stood upon the threshold of fairyland. Bye and bye, at night the moon, overlooking infinitely larger and brighter than we ever see it in Northern Europe, rose majestically above the horizon and filled the visible universe with silver light, seeing to soothe the already quiet ocean and compelling even the most talkative to reflection. Then it was one felt that no painting however realistic and no written description however vivid, could give the full measure of the glory of those Eastern nights.
On arriving at Aden we were invited inland, but as it was at night we declined. Sir Charles Cayzer's agent informed us that Aden is developing rapidly owing to the railway extensions into Somaliland and Arabia, great quantities of goods being brought in for export, and especially coffee and hides. On the stroke of midnight we entered the Gulf of Aden, and saw little more land until we approached Bombay. We devoted ourselves to such instruction and amusement as is usually found on a well-appointed liner. There were of course the usual discussions on politics, in which Tarriff Reform played by far the most important part. Everybody was interested in it-India Merchants, army officers, globe trotters, journalists, indeed everyone. Then we found an interesting diversion in competitions as to the speed the vessel travelled each day, and other speculative trifles. On the following Tuesday we had a storm which caused the Macedonia constantly to ship heavy seas, the majority of the passengers having a lively time of it; but save for one or two heavy douches which completely soaked me, I came out all right, and was one of the three who put in an appearance at our table. But the storms in these Eastern seas are short, if violent, and by Thursday we had once more a perfect da, the sea being calm and the ship doing good time. We wound up our entertainments by a treasure hunt. After a long search (and diligent, you may guess), I found the first prize valued at £3-10s. Then as the night drew on the ship was lighted with electric lamps, and we had a dance, and all spent the last night on the Macedonia with something like regret, for even in these days of rapid transit a two or three weeks journey throws people together, and the company he was excellent.
Friday morning was most beautiful, and I rose at a quarter to six in the hope of seeing the entrance to Bombay, but we did not sight the land until nine o' clock. Soon after wards, we anchored in the beautiful bay, which has been fittingly called the Gateway of India. The landing of passengers takes a considerable time, those for Calcutta going off first. Meanwhile our vessel was surrounded by a multitude of boats of every conceivable size and build, their occupants being even more varied and interesting-Mohammedans, Hindu, Parsee, representative of the many races of this land of ancient mystery; jabbering and shouting as they preferred their services, or exhorted up in the name of Allah to buy their stores of fruit. Their attire was even as mixed as their races and tongues, for whereas some wore the orthodox but uninteresting garments of the West, others rejoiced in white robes, while others garbed themselves, strangely, in coats of many colours, wearing striped turban, or the high Persian hat affected by the Parsee. The solemnity and earnestness with which they adjusted one to buy their wares or to hire their services would have made any London shop walker grow green with envy. Still, it must be confessed that despite the luxurious comfort of the great liner this ripe fruit, looking so luscious and inviting, does inspire a craving after a voyage, and these wily Orientals knew it, and made good use of their knowledge. Soon afterwards the P and O, people sent a launch out for Sir Charles and his party, when we were at once taken to the Bunder Pier and landed at the Taj Mahal Hotel, which is certainly, both for situation and size, the most beautiful and largest hotel I have ever seen. Here a suite of admirable rooms overlooking the bay and facing the yacht club had been reserved for us by the kindness of friends a motor and carriages had been placed at our disposal, and that afternoon, seeing it was delightfully hot and everything looked so inviting, we took a run round. I was profoundly impressed with the first view of Bombay. The buildings are magnificent, and the streets in the modern city perfect. As we drove up Queen's Road to Maliba Hill, which faces the sea, we passed many fine houses occupied by the Parsees. Fully two-thirds of the 100, 000 Fire worshippers who are to be found in India live in Bombay where they occupy a high position as merchants; indeed they appear to be the intelligent and wealthy class in this city of a million inhabitants. They undoubtedly have benefited by British rule, for they have obtained that foundation of all true commerce.
After attending Church on Sunday night we went to a Hindu wedding, and many young men and maidens are alike, th....? Over, being prone to marriage and gi? Marriage. I will endeavour to describe the ceremony. On arriving we were conducted into a large marquee, with seats down both sides, and a throne a one end, whereupon of between 14 and 16 were seated, with parents and friends gathered round the total number of spectators being about? As Europeans we were placed in the seats of honour. After this, all the leading guests including our party were decorated with lands of exquisite flowers, which were suspended around our necks like Mayoral wreaths presentations being made at the same time of a charm and two cocoa nuts. Presently a boy was conducted into the street and carried on an elaborately decorated horse and his infant sister being placed behind him in order to guard him from danger. Several people on horseback headed the procession, and were followed by torchbearers, then boys carrying special illuminations, the friends falling behind with two bands. We were placed near to the bridegroom's horse, but immediately in front of it. After traversing several streets the procession arrived at the house of the bride's father, the young lady being ? Years of age. In these marriages neither bride nor bridegroom has the slightest involvement in the matter, the parents arranging everything. When the religious ceremony takes place the girl's face is covered, so the husband does not really see his wife until sometime after the marriage when they start to live together. I have certainly taken part in a good many processions, but this ceremony was most extraordinary, still it was the customary to see one of these picturesque Eastern proceedings from beginning to end.
The burying customs of the Hindu Parsees are quite as remarkable as their weddings. Although Europeans often shun this ceremony it is a sight not to ignore by the intelligent traveller. As the groups driver was a well-informed Parsee, only too pleased to explain matters, I had difficulty in following the varied ceremonies I saw, or in grasping the different events with interest. The three of us had passed ? Us into the burial ground. It was situated on one of the most beautiful areas and is of considerable extent, but it was surrounded by very high walls whereby bodies seclusion is safeguarded. As we were being conducted round a building. I saw that all the buildings were in a beautiful condition, with flowers abounding in every hand. Each of the five Towers are 20 feet high, have grids on the top of these the dead bodies are placed, the glaring sun and to the vultures ever watching the proceedings for neighbouring elevations or hovering in the cloudless sky. On entering, however, I saw all those filthy birds seated on the top of the walls, apparently awaiting the arrival of the funerals. As I watched in horrific moment, a worthy Parsee volunteering formation that in a very few minutes some of those vultures would strip every particle from the bodies. The remains are exposed to the sun for a few days, as the pall bearers carry them away, and cast them into a pit filled with coal and sand. I was amazed to see this burial ground is drained onto the area which stand the Bombay waterfront.
After this gruesome experience the chance of an hours tramp through the docks on starting Tuesday morning was pleasant as it was hot and tiring. They are building a new dock and at a cost of nearly £2,000 that will certainly be a great improvement as the dock will have 50 acres of water and the quay facing the bay of 3,000 feet and a width of 1,500 feet, at which P. and O. passengers can land instead of being carried in on tugs and boats as now. The Pre-Victoria docks were very full and always very busy there being thousands of persons at work, but the workers on the docks were like ants; small women involved in carrying the earth on their heads, doing as much work as some of the men.

I must, however, continue my story of Bombay in the next article.

A Journey to The East-Rough Notes from my Diary No.,4 (by Sir George Doughty, M.P.), published March 18, 1907, in Grimsby Telegraph.

The more I saw of Bombay, the more profoundly was I impressed with it. It stresses the Englishman fresh from the great cities of the United Kingdom as well worthy to rank with the best of them, and undoubtedly deserves its name as the Eye of India. The Trust is apparently determined to bring it up to date and their efforts have so far been conspicuously successful, for all the dock buildings are good, and especially the sheds and cranes for loading and unloading. In the dock, I went over on the large ships of the Clan Line, and I think it my duty to express my appreciation of the kindness of the dock authorities and the officials generally, before going further, for they spared no effort to give me all the information possible, and to show me everything.

On the afternoon of this day (Tuesday), we took tea at the Yacht Club with Major Lane, who is head of the medical department. He had been in Bombay for some months studying the plague, and he struck me as a very able man, and a man in the right place. He told me that it had been demonstrated, beyond a shadow of doubt, that this dread epidemic has been conveyed from a rat to man by means by a flea-one of those cosmopolitan little rascals which has so far denied civilisation and science; in fact the plague cannot be spread by any other means. He also assured me that you can safely sleep with men who have this plague without contracting it. After this, it was not surprising that one should read in Monday's papers that a great rat drive in one particular ward had resulted in 15,000 rats being killed. In this respect he had found the natives extremely difficult to deal with. They did not mind the rat; in fact they would rather allow men to live with them than have them killed. Consequently, in some places; the medical experts found it nearly impossible to get into the Hindu's houses. 

Of course, I was greatly interested in all this, but when the Major gave me a pressing invitation to accompany him to some of the plague-ridden houses I remembered that discretion was the better part of valour, and hastily declined, the more especially as I was travelling with friends. All this emphasises the old Eastern story of the traveller who met the Plague as he was entering an Oriental city, and, who asked how many people it had killed. "Five thousand," responded the Plague. "But I understand that thirty thousand people are dead!" said the puzzled traveller. "Oh yes," replied the Plague, but the others died from fright."

We dined with Sir Edmund Poe, the Admiral of the Indian Squadron, after, which at the invitation of the Baculta Club, I attended a ball at which Lord Lamington, the governor, and his staff were present. Then, at three o' clock in the morning, we had a delightful four-mile drive to our hotel, and as we passed through the poorer quarters, one  had an opportunity of seeing how the labouring classes of this great city were asleep, that sweet place, that sweet solace which refreshes the toiler of every sphere. We saw hundreds of natives asleep in the alcoves of their houses, some being nearly bereft of clothing, and others only covered with a sheet. On looking at them, I could not remember the droll saying of the Sancho Panza, "Blessed is the man who invented sleep."

On the Wednesday morning I paid a visit to the municipal buildings, which are certainly very fine. The Council consists of 60 members, 40 of whom are nominated by the wards, and the remainder by the Governor, the latter representing the trading and other interests. I understand, however, that the system is only questionably successful, for all the members, with one exception, are either Hindus or Parsees. Later in the day, I lunched with the editor of the "Bombay Gazette," and was not a little surprised to find one of the editions of the paper contained a leading article on myself. 

As all strangers pay a visit to the famed caves of Elephanta, several of us sailed there in a small boat, speedily covering the intervening six miles. The particular island where these thousand-year old relics are found, is small and green, and is covered with a thick jungle, and well deserves its dedication to Siva, the destroying god of the Hindus, for not only does malaria hang about in the jungle, but cobras, and rock and carpet snakes are found in plenty. There are 109 caves, the largest one having been the Temple. This is 130 feet square, and the roof is supported by 26 massive fluted pillars and a great number of smaller ones. Carved out of the solid rock, along the sides, are a number of figures ranging from 12 to 20 feet high. These represent the productiveness of Nature. On the whole, I was disappointed with the caves, and could not echo the high praise which is showered on them by travellers. 

Another object of interest in Bombay is the Pingrapol, or hospital, for aged, and infirm animals. When one looks at the hundreds of ancient cows, and horses, mangy dogs and cats, with pigeons, parrots, poultry, and other creatures associated with civilisation, and sees how well they are cared for and gently fed, one cannot but marvel that such little consideration is given for human life, and how easy it is for a poor wretch to die of starvation in this city. 

Leaving Bombay at eight o'clock that night, after a lengthy railway journey, we found ourselves at Jaipore, which we reached shortly after midnight on the following day. It was dark, but a couple of natives met us with a conveyance drawn by ponies, and drove us to the hotel two miles away. They threw their hearts into the task, for I was never driven so rapidly before, and we were comfortable in a bed by two o' clock, with the attendant sleeping on his rug outside our door.

Jaipore is a purely native State, with a resident English representative at the Maharajah's Court. The beautiful city of the same name, is situated amid an amphitheatre of rugged and beetling hills, all of which are topped by grim forts, while the city itself is also ostensibly protected by a thick wall 20 feet high, from the towers and bastions of which cannon peep. Access is gained by seven massive gates. All this is, of course, impressive, and no doubt has an awe-inspiring effect upon the untraveled Hindu, but they are obviously useless in these days of powerful artillery. There is a population of 160,000, and the city is perfectly laid out. Indeed one well might imagine that the Americans had taken it as a model in building their towns, for while its Main Street is two miles long, and some 300 feet wide, the other thoroughfares run at right angles, and as they are generally flanked by noble public buildings, picturesque, native houses, or marble temples, the effect is profoundly impressive. Inasmuch as this is one of the best governed, the most prosperous and the most progressive of the native States, it deserves something more than a passing notice.

As the city is situated about 1,500 feet above sea level, it is, of course, healthy for India, and is, I am informed, cool in winter. The people are a fine manly race, altogether superior to the dwarfish and somewhat effeminate Bengalee. One would hardly expect such a State to set us an example in economical government, but such is the case, for the taxes are as low as 4s. 3d. per head, whereas in the British India the cost of the Government is 6s. per head, in the United Kingdom 48s. 9d.per head, and in Australia 139s. 

On the principle that all roads lead to Rome, in Jai-pore all the streets figuratively converge on Fountain Square which is the centre of the city. It is here that the market is held, and where all events of importance are celebrated. Here indeed everyone may see all that strange assortment of Eastern life which takes us back to the days of Abraham. Under ramshackle tents are to be found all the varied fruits of the East dispensed by swarthy salesmen who exhort you, by all the gods of the Veda, to buy their life-giving and soul-invigorating wares. There the air resounds with the babel of divers tongues, for natives from the outlying country come hither, and there are no market tolls, no grim inspectors, no lynx-eyed officials to see whether the fruit is absolutely pure and good. The day waxes older, the more vehement comes the persuasive eloquence of the vendors after the manner of dealers in comestibles, all the world over, since the day when the earth was young.

It is all wonderfully strange and wonderfully varied, and entirely different from the prosaic markets in England, for not only are many Eastern races represented, but the attire is as gaudy and picturesque as an old fashioned quilt, and the language of some of them, though I cannot understand it; is judging by appearances all the heat with which is poured forth is as forcible as that of a Billingsgate porter. 

On penetrating the broad streets which converge upon the market-Place, I was greatly interested in the scenes they revealed. One saw coming steadily along a number of richly caparisoned elephants, their little eyes alert to discover any table morsel for their swaying and inquisitive trunks to seize, whilst following the were gloomy-looking and ill-natured camels, white donkeys; and interspersed with it moving panorama, numbers of running road men clearing a road with hands and tongues for their lord and master, who had per- chance ridden into the city from the country. For the most part they were Rajpoot nobles, who showed by their looks they held in a very exalted opinion of themselves, as they continued their career, unchecked along the broad thoroughfares. And mingling with this strange motley came creaking bullock waggons, slowly crawling along as though expresses and days of the patriarchs still with us. On the sidewalks, the pedestrians surged or stalked along, clad in varied robes, the Mohammedans invariably taciturn and dignified, showing their contempt for the more volatile Hindu, who chatted as though his life depended upon his talking powers. 

Jaipore is certainly enamoured of processions, for scarcely a day passes that two or more do not meander through the streets with all the picturesque grandeur of an Oriental show. Sometimes, it is a religious festival, and, at others the Maharajah paying a visit or taking an outing. And when he does turn out, it is more than regal splendour, for camels and elephants, in gorgeous trappings, are then to be seen in plenty, while the officers of State, attired in purple and gold and all the colours of the rainbow, can be counted by the hundred, along with native police, and a full regiment of cavalry, for Jaipore possesses quite a picturesque little army in its own, there being 4,599 Calvary and 16,000 infantry. Occasionally, too, one of the Maharajah's servants would pass with some gaily caparisoned and beautiful horse, or a leopard or a panther, heavily muzzled, but looking furtively on every hand as though it were seeking an opportunity to escape from its leash and to bury its long claws in some member of the surging humanity around. It was all so different, with its bright light and movement and warm colouring, to the sombre hues of our English winters. 

The Palace of the Maharajah is, of course, the great object of interest in Jaipore. Happily, we had not to wait the usual day's notice to see through this great building, but got a special permit. The only part of the Palace which is to be seen from the streets, is the Hall of the Winds. How marvellously impressive it is, may be gathered from the description of Sir Edwin Arnold: "A vision of daring and dainty loveliness; nine stories of rosy masonry, and delicate over-hanging balconies, and latticed windows, soaring, with tier after tier of fanciful architecture, in a pyramidal form; a very mountain of airy and audacious beauty, through the pierced screens and gilded arches of which the Indian air blows cool over the flat roofs of the highest houses. Aladdin's magician could have called into existence no more marvellous abode, nor was the pearl and silver palace of the Pari Banous more delicately charming"

The Palace itself is of great extent, the vast courtyards being big enough to allow troops to deploy. There were, of course, innumerable attendants, so many, in fact, that they have a special bazaar within the walls where they can obtain whatever they require. The Palace was superbly furnished, but its chief interest to us was the magnificent idea we were able to obtain from the roof of the entire city and surrounding country.

Jaipore is most attractive, but Amber, the ancient capital of the State, has its peculiar claims. Situated some seven miles from Jaipore, it is quite uninhabited, save by a number of old fakirs, who cling to it for its reputed order of sanctity. There was, indeed, something strange and uncanny in riding through the streets of this deserted city-palaces of marble in excellent order, and houses and public buildings all looking in as good as condition as though they had been vacated only a dozen years ago, instead of 200. Save the footfall of the horses, or the occasional croak of some solitary vulture, there was not a sound to break the heavy silence-a silence indeed, which became painfully oppressive as the hours sped. As one gazed on these glorious buildings, and traversed their grass-grown courtyards or endless galleries, one felt as though it was a city of the dead, and it was with a feeling of relief that we took our departure. But we did not go without visiting the temple, where a number of priests still live, and where they daily offer a sacrifice of an animal-generally a black goat-which is decapitated in front of the altar, a portion of blood being drunk by the officiators.

Before departing, I naturally asked why this splendid city had been deserted, and was informed that it was invariably the custom of the new Maharajah to entirely forsake the city of his father, and build a new Palace court for himself where he could hold his court. Not only did he take with him the army of retainers with which every Hindu prince is surrounded, but also the whole of the inhabitants, so that within a few years what had been an exceedingly flourishing city became a bowling wilderness of uninhabited houses. The reason for this appeared to be that the new ruler, wishing to shake off the old unsavoury traditions, and to begin life unencumbered by the past, sought a new abode. This accounts for the fact that there are several Ambers, or deserted cities, at no great distance from Jaipore. 

It all seems very strange and romantic, if not wasteful to the utilitarian Briton, but it is part and parcel of the unchanging East, of that many-sided whole, the Empire of which we are all members.

A Journey to the East: Rough Notes from my Diary: Number 5: (by Sir George Doughty, M.P.), published on Monday March 25th, 1907 in Grimsby Telegraph.

Short as was my stay at Jaipore, it satisfied desire to see a Hindu city in all its barbaric splendour. The curtain of human affairs was, figuratively speaking, rolled back many centuries, and, I saw men and women plodding through the same routine as their ancestors did a thousand years ago. Here were women acting as beasts of burden, and grinding corn in the streets, leaving the wind to do the winnowing. There were identical creaking on-carts, the same class of noisy street vendors, -and human passion, love and hate, showed themselves in the self-same forms, while the story-teller narrated his impromptu narrative to the simple but eager listeners, who were clad just the same, and uttered the same exclamations of approval, as the people of long ago, when Haroun al Maschid rambled through the delightful old streets made so familiar to us in the "Arabian Nights". Strange, too, was it for one to hear, who had come from a land where rain, if anything, falls only too frequently, the expression of gratitude from the natives at the fact that a refreshing shower had fallen. Indeed, one was impressed by the pathetic and eloquent look, as well as the voice of a native who served us with a cup of tea was we journeyed to Amber, the ancient city to which I alluded in my last article. In the flowery language of the East, he said that the famine had passed away, and the dawn of plenty was breaking. He was right, for ghastly want trips very closely upon the heels of millions of people here, the great mass being very poor, so poor, indeed, that they will work for a month for one or two rupees and a little food-that is a trifle over 1s. 2d, or 2s 4d. in English money. One must come to India to understand what the word "famine" really means. When it comes the poor have no hope, they simply lie down and die.
Father Time is as ruthless in this land of romance as in the far North, and we had to depart for Delhi by the 11.30 night train. Why the very mention of the iron monster, the modern locomotive, in connection with the sunny, airy castle building East, jars, and seems as woefully out of place as a steam plough would be in Fairyland.
Delhi! What a history, what memories, what glories, what amazing tales  of fabulous wealth and human cruelty does the name of this ancient city not conjure up? If anything, it is as old as Rome, as Carthage, or Venice; in fact, it is stated to be one of the oldest, and most remarkable cities in the world. As every Englishman knows, it was the seething centre of the great Mutiny a little over half a century ago, and the scene of some of the most heroic deeds with which the battle story of Britain is associated. What more interesting, indeed, can there be to an Englishman, when first coming to the city than to visit the Ridge and Fort, the scene of that fierce struggle for the mastery of India? He would be poor indeed, in the qualities which the world over make the man, if he did not View with awe and pride the great breeches in the wall made by our troops, as he stands beneath the shadow of the famous Cashmere Gate. It seems marvellous, when one sees how the fire from the inside of the walls can be made to converge on the gate, that even a remnant of the brave band should have been able to have reached it, place the bags of powder beneath, and calmly fire the fuse which shattered the structure, and gave admittance to the besieging army. Interesting however, as all these monuments of the great struggle, they are modern, and one comes to Delhi to see still another aspect of that seething sea of humanity upon which time apparently works but little change.
Like the generality of cities, which hoary traditions, and a heavy hale of glory. Delhi does not improve on close acquaintance. It is not so beautiful, or so clean as it might be. The streets are narrow and crooked, and in many cases lead nowhere, while the touts of some of the business houses are a positive nuisance. There are, however, so many monuments and objects of interest, that a visitor may spend many days in appreciative inspection. Chief amongst these is the Jama Masjid, the grandest mosque on earth. Its three noble gates are reached by 40 steps, 150 feet long, whereon great numbers of Mahommedans sit the lifelong day, chatting and watching every varying stream of human traffic in the street below. From the time we entered the city, we had been attracted to this remarkable building by the three great white marble domes which surmount it, these being again overtopped by a couple of high minarets, in white marble and red sandstone laid alternately, the effect being very striking and pleasant. Each of the three great gateways I have referred to, give entrance to a courtyard 450 feet square, around the four sides of which run cloisters, which afford a refreshing shade to the devout Mahommedan who may wish to spend hours in the sacred building, which he regards as only second in importance to the holy Kaaba of Mecca. From this courtyard, another flight of broad white marble steps give access to the mosque itself, on entering which, everybody must don the slippers provided by the attendants. This veritable house of prayer is tiled with great blocks of black and white marble, each square of which is the pew or kneeling ground of a Mohammedan worshipper. As the walls and roof are also lined with white marble, the effect is very beautiful and awe inspiring, for this building is sufficiently large to accommodate 12,000 of these kneeling Mohammedans. On cannot, indeed, look at this noble temple without a feeling of awe and respect, for, however much one may differ from Mohammedans on points of faith, one cannot but admire the beauty and sincerity of their devotions.,
The second mosque in importance is the Roshem up Daula, which is pretty conspicuous from many parts of the city by reason of its three golden domes. It, too, is very large and very beautiful, and is well worth spending the greater part of the day in inspecting, but it is of course completely overshadowed by the Jama Masjid. It was, however, from the roof of this mosque that Nadir Shah witnessed the terrible massacre in the city when the Persians conquered Delhi in 1731. There is but one Hindu temple worth visiting, for generally speaking the monuments of the older religion were ruthlessly destroyed by the Mahommedan invaders.
The Imperial Palace, the home of the ancient kings of Delhi, is the great centre of attraction in the city. Although only isolated portions remain, however some having been swept away to make room for a great brick barracks for the British troops, one can still gather some idea of the amazing glory of the place, which covers many acres. It was a vast congregation of remarkable buildings, each of which deserves a lengthy description. The most wonderful of three magnificent buildings is the Denan i Khas, or private hall of audience. Built of pure white marble, plentifully interspersed with beautiful inlaid work, all of which refreshes the eye, and its beauty is enhanced by the ceiling, which decorated in gold and colours. The centre of attraction to the Europeans, however, is a marble dais in the centre of the hall, in a wide opening of which the celebrated Peacock Throne was placed. This was a seat fixed between two large peacocks whose outspread tails were wonderfully life-like by means of cunningly inlaid sapphires, diamonds, emeralds and other precious stones, while over the centre of the throne itself was a parrot carved from a single emerald. The value of this, the most remarkable throne the world has ever seen, was fully £5,000,000. The hall measures 90 feet by 70 feet. In the heyday of its glory, the Denan i Khan must have been of indescribable glory, and it was not surprising that The conquering Persians should inscribe on its walls, the eloquent compliment in their native tongue: "If there is a Paradise on earth, it is this, it is this, if it's this" But alas the crowning glory of this hall of audience has departed, for the Peacock Throne was carried away by Nadir Shar to Persia when he conquered the city with his Persian Army in 1738, and gave the inhabitants ever to one of the most terrible massacres which has ever blurred the historical page. On that occasion Nadir Shar is stated to have carried away from £9,000,000 to £10,000,000 in gold, and a fabulous value in jewels. Little wonder, after such exploits on the part of his predecessors, the present Shar's jewels should be valued at £10,000, 000.
What this beautiful red sandstone palace was like in the height of its glory, with his court yard 300 feet square on the four sides of which were at least 60 beautiful smaller palaces, we may only gather some idea from a description handed down to us by the court physician of King Aurangeb in the year 1700. He wrote:"Aurangeb the King, sat upon his throne splendidly apparelled. His vest was of white satin, flowered and raised with a very fine embroidery of gold and silk. His turban was of cloth of gold, having a fowl wrought upon it like a heron, whose foot was covered with diamonds of an extraordinary size and price, with a great Oriental topas, which may be said to be matchless, shining like the sun. A collar of long pearls hung about his neck down to his stomach after the manner that some heathens wear their great beads. His throne was supported by six great pillars or feet, said to be of massive gold, set with rubies, emeralds and diamonds. Beneath the throne, there appeared the great nobles in splendid apparel, standing upon a raised ground, covered with a great canopy of purples gold, with great golden fringes and enclosed by a silver balistre. The pillars of the hall were hung with tapestries of purpled gold, having the ground of gold, and for the roof of the hall, there was nothing but great canopies of flowered satin, fastened with red silk cords that had big tufts of silk mixed with threads of gold hanging to them. Below there was nothing to be seen but great silk tapestries, very rich, of an extraordinary length and breadth"
Then within the palace enclosure are the wonderful Arab baths. The floors and walls are of white marble, picked out with exquisitely flowered tiles, the entire building being surmounted by marble domes, whilst openings in the roof give ample light. Adjacent, too, is the Rung Mahal, which is remarkable as having some of the finest pierced marble carving on earth; indeed one could stand for hours admiring this work, and in endeavouring the to exhaust the  innumerable designs crystallised here. But as one wanders through palaces and mosques and temples, and sees all these marvellous works of a nearly forgotten past, the mind grows dazed with the beauty of it all, and longs to take it piecemeal in order to digest it mentally.
Everywhere in an around this ancient city, one sees innumerable traces of the conqueror-the Moguls, the Tartans, the Mahahattas, the Afghans, the Persians, and last of all the English. The old palaces seem to re-echo with the triumphant but picturesque words of Beber the Lion, the Mohammedan invader of the 13th century saying: "I placed my foot in the stirrup of recollection, and my hands on the reins of the confidence of God, and I matched against the possessions of the throne of Delhi and the dominion of the Hindustani whose army was said to amount to 100, 000 foot and 1,000 elephants. The Most High God did not suffer the hardships that I had to undergo to be thrown away, but defeated my formidable enemy, and made me conqueror of this noble country."

The District around Delhi is exceedingly rich in royal monuments and tombs. A few miles out of the City the Katab Minar, a magnificent tower 238 feet high, and with a considerable number of apartments in it, rears its magnificent pile. It is of white marble and red sandstone, alternately laid, the effect being very neat and chaste. This tower is said to be one of the most beautiful in India, and the carvings and inscriptions on it, are exquisite. It would, however, require a volume to describe all I saw in this ancient capital of the Moguls or to convey the thoughts involuntarily arising, as to whether the works, arts, customs of the new, the Western civilisation are superior to those of the old, and as to whether its effects can be as far reaching, or as lasting, in material structure, in fixed human action and mode of thought. On Sunday morning we departed for Agra, the Mecca of India, and the glories may well be reserved for my next article.

A Journey to the East: Rough Notes from my Diary: Number 6: (by Sir George Doughty, M.P.), published in Grimsby Telegraph on Monday April 1st, 1907

Although Agra is a large town, with over 100,000 inhabitants and with some fine streets, it's leading features are completely overshadowed by the superb monuments of its past glory. Still the "Strand", which skirts the banks of the Jumna for a couple of miles and is 30 feet broad, is more than pleasing interest to the utilitarian Briton, seeing that it was made by the destitute poor in 1838, and it must be admitted that they made a good job of it. There is nothing needing description in the native quarter, indeed it may well be said that when one has seen the native section of one Indian city he has in effect seen that of other great Hindu centres, for they vary even less than do the slums of our large English towns.
In more senses than one the "Fort" dominates Agra. It is a huge concern built of red sandstone, with a crenalated wall 70 feet high, and a mile and a half in circumference. At one time, no doubt, it laughed to scorn the efforts of the assailing army; and it was sufficiently strong even during the time of the Great Mutiny to shelter for months the 5,000 Europeans and Christians who were fortunate enough to reach it. It has only one entrance, the Delhi Gate, and this is a fine piece of work, but dwarfed by the glories to which it gives access.
Within this vast enclosure are palaces, and courts, and mosques, and baths, and harems, and indeed everything which could be regarded as essential to the comfort of the Mogul Emperors who once occupied it. There is, for instance one courtyard alone which measures 500 feet by 370, and this surrounded on delicately carved pillars, but to reach this great quadrangle you have to traverse a number of smaller courts, each of which is entered by an exquisitely carved gateway. As finest of these memories of a vanished past are built of white marble and red sandstone, admirably retaining its original purity of colour and form, the effect is always pleasant and soothing. It is of course, imagination, but somehow one seems to breathe a purer air in such a place. In the prime of the Mogul Empire these places were resplendent in all pomp and glory of Eastern majesty, jewel bedecked elephants,  gaudily dressed camels, and innumerable hosts of soldiers and courtiers and slaves flitted hither and thither, and made the air ring with the sound of laughter or the groans of pain , while the clarion note of war seldom ceased. But all these have gone over to the prying eyes of stranger or the impressive look of the listless Hindu.
The most striking building in this congregation of palaces is the  Moh Majid or Pearl Mosque, and it certainly well deserves its name, for it is a marvellously elegant building , with a courtyard 156 feet square. As everything, from the pavement to the tapering top over the domes of the slender minarets, is of white marble, which flashes and looks like frosted silver under the pitiless rays of the burning sun. It is wonderfully impressive, and yet at the same time so light and airy that one might well doubt whether it is built of stone or is really but "the airy fabric of a dream." Even the commercialised Briton, fresh from the Stock Exchange and the sombre hues of his native land, cannot stand without experiencing a thrill of romance amidst these palaces and courts of ancient monarchs, who long since went to that bourne whence no traveller returns. This Pearl Mosque, like so many more of the sights of the city, was built by Shah Jenan, one of the wisest and best of the Mogul Emperors.

In all these Eastern palaces the baths form a most distinguishing feature. And no wonder; for the intense heat makes the delights of a plunge into cold water a positive luxury. It was in the baths that the Emperors and the members of the Royal household found shade and rest, the relief from the importunity which ever dogs the steps of the great, and here it was also that members of the harem were able to vary their monotonous lives. It was not, however, merely a plunge, and a half-hour's daliance in the liquid, as with Europeans, but those who had the right of entrance spent hours there in gossiping and laughter. But if the vibrant sound of humanity has gone, the beautiful baths, with their amazing works of art and their crystal water bubbling and foaming in cascades and fountains, remain to remind posterity of the sumptuous pleasures of bye-gone ages.
The baths within the "Fort" go by the name of Shisha Mahal or "The House of Glass." They consist of two rooms, the material for erecting which was pounded talc or looking-glass. Within these two rooms are 1,000 different panels, each of which is filled up with raised flowers in silver, gold and colours on a groundwork of tiny convex mirrors. The idea it impresses on the mind is that of being inside some curiously worked and arched box-so unlike is the apartment to a room. The roof reminds you of the style of ceiling that prevailed during the time of Louis XlV, and resembles the ceilings of Versailles. Pounded mica has the effect of silver. Fronting the entrances in the second room are three rows of niches for lights, and below, standing forward a little, there are more rows of marble niches for the same. From the top the water pours out and falls in a broad sheet over the upper lights, and is received in a basin from which it again pours forth in another fall over the lower row of lights so that you can see the lights burning behind the falling waters. The waters are then received in a fountain, which springs high and sparkles in the glare, and then, running over a marble causeway, fills another beautifully carved white marble basin. It is indescribably refreshing to see and hear the falling waters, and one longs to stand beneath the cool cascade.
To Europeans the mysteries of the harem has always been a source of attraction. The invariable beauty of the apartments, the seclusion in which women-folk are kept, the stories of love , tragedy, and romance to which the harem has given rise, and the fact that it is practically reserved for the establishments of the rich has given it a glamour which is to a large extent fictitious.
It may possibly interest the good folks of Grimsby to know that in accordance with Mohammedan law a female member of a household above the age of 13 or 14 must not show her face to any male stranger ; consequently she is never seen by the mere man without the nargal or veil, which I have already described. She is jealously guarded in the special quarters reserved for her, and she may not go a-shopping unless carefully attended by one or more of her husband's slaves or attendants. For the most part she is imprisoned with six, ten or more wives, some young and others old, some beautiful and others the reverse, but all invariably jealous of each other, in this golden age of a harem. Thus life is dawdled away in idle gossip, in eating sweet meats, and enforced idleness, compared with the sometimes hard lot of the Western woman is a perfect Paradise. Of course, no European of the masculine gender is allowed to enter these dwellings, but European ladies obtain access without difficulty, and European women who have lived within them all agree in declaring that despite the rich clothes and the apparent life of luxury the existence of even the favourite wives of the Rajahs and Emperors is lacking in interest, dull, and the incarnation of constraint.
The apartments of the Royal harem inside the "Fort" are all of the purest white marble. This has been carved into lattice work, and is adorned with agates, blood stones and many other precious gems, care having of course been taken to harmonise the colours. The balconies above, which are supported on delicate pillars, have screens running from pillar to pillar, the whole being carved into the most exquisite laceworks, so finely cut that while effectually sheltering the fair inmates it enabled them to look through and see all that was going on in the courtyard below. But here, as elsewhere, there was not the slightest trace of the old-time beauty and grace of the inmates. In common with the splendour and glory of the Royal owner, these had all vanished in the mists of time. And despite the beauty of all the surroundings, one leaves such delightful retreats with a feeling of sadness, for it all seems to remind one of the old Saxon parable, that man resembles a bird which flutters out of the darkness, whence, it knows not, into the brightness of a lighted tent, pauses a moment, and then flies out again into the darkness, it knows not whither.
But whosoever visits Agra must see the Taj Mahal, the great monument outside the city, which was built by Shah Jahan in memory of his adored wife, who died in giving birth to her eighth child. It is generally agreed to be the most grandest architecture in the world. As we drove to it from the city, our first glance was that of a great gateway of red sandstone, covered in every part with splendid carving, which is as clear when it was cut in 1648. From this great gateway, which stands 140 feet high and is 110 feet broad, one finds oneself looking along a massive trough of white marble, down which a pellucid shallow stream of water runs. Bordering this artificial channel are great number of cypress trees of considerable age, whose dark foliage stands out in striking contrast against the white marble pathway. At the end of the latter one sees the Taj Mahal itself, rises above trees and shrubbery in all its architectural majesty. Every visitor is agreed that the first look of this great monument impresses one more profoundly than any other building one has ever seen. Viewed through a vista of trees, it has the appearance of a square with a large dome of white surmounting it. On approaching it, however, you see that it is all in perfect symmetry. It is 186 feet square and 220 feet to the top of the dome. The building itself stands upon a plinth of white marble, 313 feet square and standing 13 feet above the level of the ground. At each of the four corners of this plinth is an elegant slender minaret, 137 feet high. These, like the body of the Taj, are perfect ; and as they, too, are rich in delicate carving they enhance, if that is possible, the beauty of the great monument. Then on each side of the Taj and some 400 feet away, and on the edge of a marble tiled court, are mosques, beautifully carved, adding to the sweetness and attractiveness of the spectacle. As these are built of red sandstone, inlaid with white marble, they stand out in somewhat striking contrast to the parent building.
But if words fail me to describe the exterior of the Abode of Death, how can I picture the beauties within? On every hand you see carving so delicate that it is difficult to believe that it is done in stone or even in wood. Nothing offends the eye, nothing jars; there is indeed, nothing the most talented builder or sculptor could improve upon. The further you go, and the more you see, the more you marvel, until the mind seems to have become so saturated with the beauty of it all as to be incapable of taking in anymore. It is a dream in stone, an enduring poem, a crystallised romance, a colossal embodiment of artistic perfection.
Inside the centre of the Taj Mahal rest the remains of the Emperor Shah Jahan and his beloved wife, Arjamand Bann, the inscription on her tomb running "Saith Jesus(on whom be peace) the world is a bridge, pass thou over it, but build not upon it. This world is one hour; give its minutes to prayers, for the rest is unseen." Unlike the sombre tombs of European kings, this Abode of Death is not dark or gloomy, for the marble work is so delicately carved in every part of the roof that the brilliant light pours through and illuminates everything, thus enabling one to see it's multitudinous beauties.   Not only on the sides of the tomb itself, but also along the walls, there are many panels of delicate carving, most have which have sapphires, amethyst, rubies, onyx, diamonds, and many other precious stones let in. In the brilliant sunlight these flash and seem to irradiate the place like flowers. No doubt the cunning workmen who wrought so wondrously carefully calculated the effect of each gem they imprisoned in the marble, for the work is charming in the extreme. Still, as one looks at all this marvellous work and thinks of the remnants of poor humanity imprisoned within, one cannot but feel that if they could but revisit this scene of splendour they would, like Solomon, exclaim that it is all vanity and vexation. Possibly Shah Jahan never dreamt that within less than 150 years of his building this tomb, his possessions would have passed into the hands of the hated Ferringhees, and that his descendants would have terminated their race by violent deaths. Encircling these beautiful buildings are the most delightful gardens and groves. Here I saw the orange and lemon trees in full bloom, with masses of flowers of every hue and shape. And then, as if to add further colour to the scene and to show that pleasure can be found even in the shadow of a tomb, I saw two parties of picnickers, adorned in the most gorgeous array, distorting themselves in these sylvan groves. And all the while mark you, as you looked at this huge glistening mass, standing out like a temple of white silver against the deep blue of the cloudless heavens, you became conscious of the most delightful fragrance from the orange trees and gardens surrounding you. Such a sight was indeed well worth while coming all the way from England to see, and I felt that the vision of these glories and all this time-honoured pomp would remain with me to my latest day. Little wonder, indeed, that pious Mohammedans, however poor or ragged, will journey afoot from all parts of India to pray within one of the Taj Mahan mosques and to gaze upon the work of the revered Emperor.
What a shock it is to learn that behind all this beauty and marvellous skill thee stands the blood-stained figure of tyranny, for this monument to connubial bliss was erected by forced labour. It took seventeen years to build, and cost £4,000,000. On an average, 20,000 workmen were engaged on it, and many died of starvation and many were killed, for of course, the poor wretches received neither wages nor food, and, like the slaves who built the great pyramid of Cheops, they were driven to work with the whip. Unable to obtain subsistence for themselves or families, their wives and children died by thousands of starvation, and the wail of despair resounded through the District. And yet all the while camel-loads of jewels and the most skilled carving were being brought on the backs of elephants from all parts of India, while the East was ransacked for the most skilled artificers. All this, somehow, seems to dim the beauty of the work and to cast a stain of blood on the otherwise spotless marble. Happily such tyranny is no longer possible. Whatever criticism may be passed upon the British Government of India, it can at least boast that it has introduced a more humane rule, and has for ever banished the rod of despot and the cord of the Thug.

A Journey to the East: Rough Notes from my Diary: No. 7 (by Sir George Doughty M.P.) published in the Grimsby Telegraph, Friday April, 5th, 1907.

After leaving Agra a four hours railway journey brought us to Cawnpore-that city of dreadful memories. Having a population of 160,000, it is a busy and enterprising place, but there is little to attract the European, save the monumental evidence of the Mutiny. It must be admitted, that the authorities have taken care that the evil things that Cawnpore did in the day of its rebellious madness shall not be readily forgotten, but that it shall stand before posterity in the boldest colours, for the memorial gardens, which enclose the fatal well, cover nearly 50 acres, and, as they slope up from the banks of the Ganges, and are kept in splendid order, they form the great feature of the city. A mound has been raised over the well where the dead and dying Christians were cast by Nana Sahib's assassins, this being surrounded by a fine wall with handsome iron gates. Inside the enclosure, is a white marble angel, with arms folded across its breast, and holding a palm branch in each hand. On the wall runs the inscription "Sacred to the perpetual memory of a great company of Christian people, chiefly women and children, who near this spot, were cruelly murdered by the the followers of the rebel Nana Dhunda Panth of Bithur, who cast the dying, with the dead, into the well below on the 15th day of July, 1857." One of the punishments of Cawnpore for this massacre, consisted in the fact that the gardens and memorial were paid for generally by the city as a fine. Since their creation, the Government of India has allowed £500 per year for keeping them in good order.
As one looks at these beautiful and peaceful surroundings, it is difficult to realise these dreadful incidents which gave birth to them. It needs a strong effort of the imagination to picture the howling and blood thirsty mass of Sepoys, the small and heroic band of British soldiers, counting their lives as nothing if they could but defend the 800 non-combatants, of whom 400 were women and children, the long, long days and nights of starvation behind brick walls which afforded but poor protection against the persistent fire of the Mutineers and the fatal truce whereby the remnant of British troops secured as they sought  a safe passage down the Ganges for the women and children and non -combatants. As we know it was honourably arranged. But who can make terms with tigers? The Mutineers we as treacherous, and as cruel, as the monsters of their native jungles.
As one sits and looks down at the blue river glistening under the brilliant sun, and conveying no suggestion, save that of peace and harmony, one can hardly reconstruct the historic scene. Below on the river bank were a number of native boats with dry thatched roofs. The ragged, distraught, pale, and starving women and children, some scarcely able to move, and others wounded, supported and watched over by the few soldiers, press forward to board the frail craft. There is no shouting, no excitement, no complaining, but they are as silent, and as composed as they were when the dreadful shot was pouring in upon them in their brick shelter. At last everyone is on board, and the boats move slowly off. But they have not got twenty yards from the bank when a bugle call rings out and all the native boatmen with one accord, leap over the side and commence to wade towards the shore. But ere they have reached the land, another signal is given, and a fierce fire is opened from both banks. The dry thatched roofs of the boats are soon ablaze.
The frantic Englishmen, realising the dreadful trap in which they have been caught, make dreadful efforts to push the boats into mid-stream, but alas, this is beyond their strength, and the craft only move slowly onward, presenting a broad target for murderous bullets. In the words of an eye-witness, "Some of the boats presented a broadside to the guns, others were raked from stem to stern by the shot. Volumes of smoke from the thatch somewhat veiled the full extent of the horrors of that morning. All who could move, were speedily expelled by the heat of the flames. Alas, the wounded were burnt to death; one mitigation only there was to their dreadful fate-the flames were terribly fierce; and their intense sufferings were not protracted. Wretched crowds of women and children crouched behind the boats, or waded out into the deeper water, and stood up to their chins to lessen the probability of their being shot." But that was of little avail, for the cruel troopers entered the water and slaughtered many of them.
And while the day wore on, and the brilliant sun poured down its pitiless rays, and the fragrance of the scented forests was carried upon the gentle breeze, that frightful deed of blood continued. There was no mercy, and no respite, Young and old, Rich and poor, strong and weak-all were handed over to cruel death. But even these human tigers seemed to tire of their monstrous work, for some 200 women and children lived to see the sunset. These were presently landed, and by orders of the rebel authority, were taken back when they had come, to a small courtyard, where they were securely imprisoned. Here they were kept for a fortnight. God knows what they suffered, during that time, for non-one lived to tell the tale. The probabilities are that, entirely apart from their mental torture, they must have suffered by having seen their loved ones slaughtered, or done to death in the most heinous manner: that they were individually ill-treated, starved, and kept without water, and tortured by the gloating and the threats of their custodians. They must have felt that they were sitting within the pale shadow of death and possibly, when the end did come, it was a relief.
In the meantime, their captors had begun to tremble. Immediately after the massacre on the river , a native messenger had informed them that a well-organised and strong British force was approaching. Everyone of them from Nana Sahib, the blood-stained and traitorous leader to the lowliest soldier, knew that the stern vengeance would be exacted for the dreadful deed, and the leading Mutineers held many anxious meetings in order to devise some steps to avert the blow. At last, a decision was come to. A final meeting was held, at which Nana Sahib presided, when it was resolved that the only way to escape punishment was to destroy the witnesses, save those belonging to the Mutineers, it being contended that if all the Christian women and children were killed, and their bodies hid, the British soldiers would be none the wiser. Accordingly, one night, a fortnight after they had been taken back to the courtyard, the survivors saw five miscreants enter with drawn sabres, and commence to hack the poor wretches. Some were fortunate in being killed outright, but many others were severely wounded. But the troopers were in a hurry, and had no time to go over their work again, and as night approached, they hastily tumbled the dead and the dying into a deep well, and then, having, as they believed, destroyed all trace of the massacre, duly reported to Nana Sahib.
But, even in the jungles, and the slums of an Indian City, murder will out! The leaders of the British force already knew about the massacre on the river, and when some of the perpetrators found that they were about to be punished for it, they gave the details of the second horror. It is surprising that the blood of the British soldiers was like liquid fire, or that they inflicted the most summary vengeance upon the dastards who had committed the murder, though they failed to lay the hated Nann Sahib by the heels. So dire was that vengeance that it burnt itself into the hearts of the natives for a hundred miles around, and it is still spoken of with bated breath by old white- haired survivors of the Mutiny.

We did not stay overnight in Cawnpore, but caught the 1031 train the Lucknow, where we arrived early on Wednesday the 14th of February. The same afternoon, we had a good drive around the city, and agreed that it was beautiful; in fact, it is the most charming Indian City I have yet been in. Cawnpore has a population of 264,000 half of whom are Mohammedans, and has an extensive native quarter, which is as well-kept as any of our English towns. The sunshine is glorious, and the grass is green, this being a great treat after the miles of mud walls, the dusty roads, the squalid villages, and the desert we have seen so much of. Next day, we drove to the old King's palace, but it is now the United Service Club, certainly one of the most beautiful clubs in the world. Many of the ruins, with their adjacent grounds, have, since the mutiny all been cleared away, and parks created, of which all are kept in a very beautiful condition. We spent a considerable time at the Presidency, and were fortunate in having a guide, an old soldier who had been all through the Mutiny. He was most interesting, and showed us the position from every point of view. On looking at it calmly and critically now, it really seems impossible, that 1,700 men should have successfully held this post against over 50,000. We saw marks of the bullets and the cannon shot on some of the walls. Indeed, they were completely riddled in some places. All honour to those brave Britons, who knew so well how to do their duty, and were only too ready to die if they could only further their country's progress or safety by an iota.
When Sir H. Lawrence arrived at Lucknow on September 23rd, 1857, he collected stores and made the best protection possible, not only for Europeans but for the loyal natives too. The mutiny broke out here on Sept 25th. Then Sir Henry Havelock partially relieved the garrison, but he himself was shortly afterwards shut in, and it was not, until November 17th, 1857, that Sir Colin Campbell was able effectually to free the garrison, the members of which had endured great privation and loss during the 87 days they were imprisoned. Early in the siege, the heroic Sir Henry Lawrence was killed, but even as he drew his last breath, he exhorted the survivors to be of good courage, and on no account to surrender. Happily, the women and children were comparatively safe in the basements of two large buildings and were well cared for, but the deaths of the combatants were from 15 to 20 per day.
Chief amongst the heroic names that stand out during that glorious time, was that of Captain Fulton, a very young officer, who was the life and soul of the defence. He anticipated the enemy in all their mining operations, and by blowing up their mines, constantly inflicted heavy loss upon them. He was, however, unfortunately shot towards the end of the siege, for he had become a marked man to the rebels. As I stood beside his grave, and looked around at the memorials to the heroic dead who had fallen so gloriously in defending the inheritance of their native land, I could but feel a thrill of pride that I too was a native of that isle which produced such sons.
Standing on the spot where these tragic events took place half a century ago, and after our people have had many additional opportunities of studying the native races, the lesson is, whether soldier or civilian, must be treated with firmness as well as kindness. If we do not pursue this policy in India, I am sure that sever trouble will ensue.
Although I spent some time in looking round the ancient glories of Lucknow, none of them approach those of Delhi, Agra, or other cities I have visited. The royal palaces are, in fact, the worst in India, and although many buildings were swept away during the Mutiny, the sufficient remain to attest the ignoble whims and idiosyncrasies of the Royal builders. They are tawdry and without method, garish and hideous. And no wonder, for the monarch who erected most of them was one of the most besotted that even India has seen, and during his days, the doings at the palace were the scandal of the East. At one time his principal favourite was a London barber, who immediately rose into prominence by the adroitness with which he dressed the drunken king's hair. Unfortunately, space forbids me detailing the vagaries of the exalted barber and his Royal master, but they were numerous enough and sufficiently striking to furnish the stock-in-trade of two or three comic operas.
Of the other buildings of importance in Lucknow, the Great Imambara is worthy of a visit. One of its chief features is the fact that it was built in 1748 in order to find work and food for the famine stricken people, and at that time, this dread visitation covered a wider district, and directly affected many more people than it does now. According to the local tradition, many nobles and persons of the highest rank were compelled by hunger to join in the grim task work, but they were generally kept apart from the multitude, their names being called over and their wages, paid at night, after the others had departed. Although it's rubble-made vaults and lower chambers are generally in a good state of repair, many of the splendid ornaments and decorations have been destroyed, so that it has lost its principal attractions to the sight devouring wayfarer.
The most beautiful building in Lucknow is the Jama Masjid, or cathedral mosque. Lacking the stiffness and severity which distinguishes so many Mohammedan buildings, it is extremely neat and graceful with its two towering minarets, it's pointed domes, it's cool and admirably arranged cloisters, its spacious courtyards, and the infinite variety of its gateways, carving and supports. But after seeing the Taj Mahal, all this seems small and insignificant, and you lack the overwhelming solemnity of the surroundings which distinguishes many of the finer works.
As one stands looking down on the great city, from which the roar and hum of traffic rises, one wonders what Lucknow was like under its voluptuous and splendour-loving kings. No doubt there was more pomp, more glitter, and more royal bounty, but on the other hand, the city today, under its British rulers, is infinitely healthier, life and property are thoroughly safe, and the plodding husband man and craftsman can follow their callines without fear that the hand of the tyrant may descend at any moment and snatch their poor subsistence from them. Presently, however, my eyes settle on great gateway, the Jilarkhana, or place whence the royal processions started, one can imagine hearing the beat of the native tom-tom, the clash of cymbals, and the screech of the primitive reed, and appreciate the description by an old writer who says:
"As we approach the grand gateway, the massive folding doors flew open, and the Nawab approached, surrounded and followed by his principal courtiers, all on elephants, 50 in number, the numerous and gaudy banners, the spirited and beautiful Arab horses; all this splendid pageant bursting at once from a gateway enclosed in wood, had an effect at once magnificent and highly picturesque.
After spending a couple of delightful days in Lucknow, we departed thence at 10-30 on Thursday night for Benares.

A Journey to the East: Rough Notes From my Diary Number 9, (by Sir George Doughty, M.P.) published Grimsby Telegraph Tuesday April 9^th, 1907.

On Sunday, February 17th, we started from Calcutta, for Darjeeling, the great sanatorium amid the Himalayan mountains. Immediately after leaving the city, we entered the great plain of Bengal, and had, therefore, many opportunities of testing the progress of agriculture in this part of the great dependency. It soon became apparent, however, that cultivation and vegetation had reached as high a level as in England. The fact is that irrigation can work miracles in India. In some parts of the country, and especially Bengal, two crops per year are raised. It is consequently a very prosperous Province. Unfortunately, the peasant is still very poor, but the merchant, the farmer, and the middleman, are in decent circumstances, many of them, indeed, being wealthy.

On arriving at Damukdia Station, we had to cross the Ganges by means of a ferry steamer, a distance of 13 miles. There were some 1,000 natives and 20 European passengers, and, as the electric light played upon the nearly naked figures of the former, and brought their tribal distinctions and their individual characteristics into marked relief, the spectacle was exceedingly interesting. On arriving at Sara Ghat we found a train awaiting us, and, as good sleeping accommodation had been provided, we had every prospect of a comfortable journey, but the noise and sight was too remarkable to allow us immediately to avail ourselves of it.

It is difficult to describe the pandemonium at one of these stations when any considerable body of natives are waiting to board the train. They squat on their haunches on and around the station approaches, and prattle and shout at one another in their native tongue, and seem to take the long waiting as part of the fare for which they have paid. In due course- it may be one, two, or three hours-the train and then the motley crew swarm into their carriages, squatting on the seats, all apparently well pleased that they are allowed to do pretty much what they like. Although they have not a jot of modesty, they invariably pay becoming respect to English people. Women's rights have little sympathy here. The women always seem to have to carry the bundles and generally to shift for themselves. Time is absolutely of no importance to them, and at many stations there is a barrier running at right angles with the platform, and the natives have to wait behind that for the train they want. They often come a day before the train is due to start, and a food story is told of a native official, who was a long time in making out a ticket for an Englishman to travel where they wanted. The latter at last ventured at last to appeal that the ticket clerk might hurry up, or he would never be able to book the frost? And the crowd of waiting natives whereupon the official said" Oh it doesn't matter their train doesn't come until next week."

By-and-by we reached Siliguri, the terminus of the Northern Bengal Railway and her we boarded one of the trains of the Himalayan Railway. This line is certainly a little wonder, for the gauge is only 2 feet wide, but the engine though small, are strong and reliable. Consequently we climbed upwards until we had risen 8,000 feet in eight hours. As may well be imagined, the ascent is a constant zig zag. In some places, the line makes the curve of the figure 4. In others the engine is but a short distance from the rear of the train, and in others again we really seemed to be returning whence we came. On more than one occasion it made a complete circle on the crest of a snow clad mountain, and we repeatedly found ourselves travelling on the ledge of a precipice into which ..... a land slip would have hurled us all a couple of thousand feet. At every turn of the exciting journey, the most sublime scenery opened up before us. In the lower reaches, we passed through dense jungles where the tiger, the rhinoceros, the bear, the wild boar, and other creatures of endless variety, find a home, whither the dreaded white man can scarce follow them. Then we would pace into regions apparently given over to giant tree ferns, aloes, and bright flowers, or into prosperous looking banana groves. Then, our puffing little locomotive would take us into the midst of the mountains, whose slopes were completely covered with forests, some of which apparently contained enough timber to replenish a thousand ports like Grimsby. As we looked up our eyes were would be arrested by the glittering white crests of the mountains-so white, so peaceful, so enduring. And then, as they rested on the lower depths, we would see grim dark abysses, valleys covered with scarlet amarinth, or vast glaciers, looking like rivers of ice they were, and her and there, we would see the silver ribbon of some river far below. Occasionally, too, we saw in these vast solitudes great eagles sailing majestically in the heavens or sweeping with incredible swiftness towards the earth, possibly in pursuit of some prey. 

When between 4,000 and 6,000 feet above the level of the sea, we saw extensive tea gardens, which have grown very rapidly during recent years. At present moment, there are 50,000 acres under tea cultivation, and, I am given to understand that the tea in this district is the best in the world. As each acre is estimated to produce 350 pounds of tea, it is obvious that the entire district annually furnishes some 17,500,000 pounds. On the other hand, in Assam, each acre produces from 800 to 1,000, while the cost is less, but the general opinion is that the tea of this mountainous district is of much better quality.

We arrived at Darjeeling at 11-30 that night. This was unquestionably the most perfect health resort on the earth. Situated amid some of the highest mountains in the world, whose heights range from 18,000 to 26,600 feet above the level of the sea, with ever changing and delightful landscapes visible from every window and doorways, with endless prospects of delightful excursions into the hearts of the most majestic mountains and the grandest valleys, with abundance of game to tempt even the most timid sportsman, a peaceful and interesting population in the surrounding districts, with crystal water ever at hand, and the purest of air, is it surprising that the wealthy classes of Calcutta and the lowlands should betake themselves to these cool shades when the burning sun scorches man and beast, and withers up vegetation during the blazing summer months. That is the reason why there so many fine mansions here, and, although they are empty for the greater part of the year when the season is on, Darjeeling is busy and prosperous. In view of the fact that children's complaints are unknown here, and that all the youngsters one meets are sturdy, ruddy-faced little rascals, pictures of health and strength, and in striking contrast to the wan, anemic, sickly children one sees in the Indian Cities, it is not surprising that this should be a city of schools. Before the English took possession of these uplands, only about 20 families resided in Darjeeling, where as the population of this district is now 155,000. And it is growing rapidly, and deservedly so, for the sir invigorates one like a fraught of new wine. So clear, is the atmosphere that one can see quite clearly the crests and shapes of the mountains 50 and 60 miles away. 

And how unspeakably grand is the scenery! As one stands at the Observatory one can count at least a dozen giant mountains each above 18,000 feet high.

There is a wonderful fascination in these everlasting hills. As one looks at them, the frets and crosses, the policies and designs of man fade from view like a troubled dream, and one feels a strange exaltation, as though one is indeed in the presence of the Eternal. How sorry a story of human history makes when contrasted with these giants of Nature. They reared their white crest when Abraham led his flocks and herds into fresh pastures, they were old when ancient Egypt was in its fancy, they saw the birth of China and the destruction of Babylon, and they were here when the paleolithic Briton, skin clad and armed with a hewn stone spear, fought the cave bear and mammoth in old ice encompassed England, and here they will be when our present civilisation has become useless, and out-of-date, as that of the old Phoenicians.

When a man comes with the grip of the Kitchen range, as this huge chain of mountains is facetiously called, he naturally wants to see the King of the Mountains, Mount Everest. It is not visible from Darjeeling, but on going to Tiger Hill, some six miles away, I had a remarkable good view of it. Although it is 29,000 feet high or twice as high as Mont Blanc, the fact that it is surrounded by giants, 25,000 and 26,000 feet high, makes its height seem less imposing than it would be if it stood alone. Still, it is unspeakably grand. How long it will retain its present distinction I know not, but the general opinion in geographical circles is that when a more complete survey of the range is made, other peaks will be found whose heights will exceed 30,000 feet. 

When we were at Tiger Hill, we were only some twelve miles, as the crow flies from the frontier of Northern India, Nepal, Tibet, Bhutan, and Afghanistan. We were indeed near the "Roof of the World", and felt that this alone was well worth our journey. 

We found the natives, of the district most interesting. Both men and women were strong, and sturdily built, and seemed happy and good natured. Their broad faces we're invariably expanded in a grin, while their coarse black hair was woven into pigtails-one in the case of a man, and two in that of a woman. For the most part, they wore coarse cotton sleeveless robes, with a thick coat over it, and all of them had doeskin boots on, especially those from outlying districts, for leeches abound to such an extent in the woods that high boots are absolutely necessary. The well-to-do farmer's wives wore a profusion of heavy silver and gold jewellery, and they evidently took great pride in it as the "smart set"do in their expensive gewgawu. Despite the nearness of their respective countries, there were very few Tibetans, Nepalese, Mutans of Hindus. 

Having received a cordial invitation to visit a tea plantation some twelve miles down the line belonging to Mr. And Mrs. Irvine, we proceeded thither, and were very heartily received. On meeting us at the station, Mr. Irvine informed us that his plantation was five miles away and that we had to descend some 2,700 feet down the mountain. There was no road only a mountain track which zig-zagged down steep descents and along the sides of precipices. Happily, he had brought sure-footed sturdy little Tibetan ponies, so that in about an hour and a half we accomplished the journey.

We found the bungalow to be a nice house, built of wood and stone, with large rooms and verandas, and beautiful flowers growing in profusion everywhere-such magnificent palms and aloes, a veritable feast for the eyes.

After enjoying out Tiffin or lunch, we had a smoke and a chat with our host and hostess, whom we found very entertaining. Having been 30 years there, they were able to give us the history of the native question, during which they observed that the Government had neglected the planters, and given too much eredence to the native. They also pointed out that it is only through our prestige as Englishmen, that we hold our position there. They are the only two Europeans, and one must go three miles before one can find other English people living on a similar plantation. There are 1, 200 blacks on the estate, so that Mr. And Mrs. Irvine could be destroyed at any time the natives felt inclined. It certainly seems a life of great loneliness for the hospitable couple only to go to England every three years. Still there is money in it and they are like little kings, and this class of a British traders are much to be complimented, for they have done a great deal to make the District-in fact what would it be without its tea, for some 10,000,000lbs are annually sent from this locality alone.

The cooking was excellent. There is, indeed, a servant for every job; they have their washerman, their timberman etc. 

After a good night's rest we looked over one of the most beautiful scenes on earth, to witness a tea plantation amid the mountains. The native has a basket fastened on his back and plucks with both hands. We saw the tea withered, crushed, rolled, sorted, and packed ready for transportation to England. Everything was scrupulously clean, and it was most instructive to us who had never seen anything of the kind before. Each native has a certain task to perform, and for this he gets four annas, or 4d. In our money. The women are exceedingly strong, and can carry loads of 2cwt, without difficulty for two or three miles up hill and down Dale. Children of nine and ten can loads enough for some men in certain parts of England. Then each man has a hut provided for him, with a plot of land whereon to grow rice or other food. They worshipped idols. I asked our friends what they thought of the work of the Christian mission. They expressed the opinion that they had made very little impression, but I noticed several places of worship amongst these mountains. However, at 11.30, we mounted our ponies, and commenced to re-ascend the hills, reaching the station at 1-30, and having parted from our friends, with whom we had spent a most enjoyable 24 hours, we proceeded to Darjeeling and thence to Calcutta. 

On this, my second visit to Calcutta, I had the opportunity of seeing what Lord Curzon had done by means of tablets, etc., to commemorate the memory of those who had died in the "Black Hole". We also had another look at the pontoon bridge which spans the Hoogley, and saw the manner in which goods are brought in. It seems that they are loaded at the docks some four miles lower down the river. By-and-bye we boarded a tram car, and did what I venture to think very few Englishmen have done, namely, made a complete tour of the native quarter. Generally speaking we were treated with respect by the people who salaamed to us. I shall not so readily forget the sight of tens of thousands of natives, all nearly naked, buying and selling in the streets, nearly all the trades going together, and we also had a look into the marts and grog shops. There seemed to be good many more sellers than buyers, but they all complacently sat on their haunches in the street, smoking long pipes, and then after a few draws whey would pass the this pipe on to their neighbour all in perfect contentment. We saw little quarrelling, and although the people were poor enough, the heat kept them from feeling the more acute pangs of poverty. It was thorough. Insight into the native habits in the slum land of Calcutta. 

We dined at the Bengal Club, and spent a very enjoyable evening. After dinner, a gentleman approached me, and I found it was Mr. Wood, the late general manager of the Hull and Barnsley Railway, but who is now a railway commissioner under the Indian Government. Nest morning, I had to be up betimes, for we were bound for Burma, the land of mystery and dacoits.

A Journey to the East: Rough Notes from my Diary, Number 10; by Sir George Doughty (M.P.) published in the Grimsby Telegraph on April 15th 1907

On Friday morning we rose at 5.15, as we had to be aboard at 6.45 en route to Burmah. Although the 20 English and American passengers and 300 coolies has to be medically examined, the process was quickly got through by a lady doctor. When I shouted at her, she observed, "Oh, it's not worth while examining you. You will do as you are." I accordingly passed on as there was no time for argument, and by a quarter past seven, the old 1,900 ton Maida was under way. And the captain was an excellent fellow, we were all happy and comfortable. 
As the Hooghly is very shifty and dangerous, our progress was slow, and we did not part with the pilot until six o' clock on Saturday night. We were, however, amply recompensed by the delightful scenery on the banks where palm and cotton and banana and many other kinds of trees, all interspersed with the greenest and brightest of vegetation and flowering shrubs, made an ever-changing and refreshing panorama. The glory and delight of the Sea of Bengal after the dust, heat, the weariness and the tameness of the deserts of India was most refreshing. But for the jabbering of the coolies, the invasion of huge cockroaches, which cracked like guns when you smite them, and the inquisitiveness of the mosquitoes, one might well imagine one was sailing on the crystal seas of the poet's dream, and had to wait for a short time ere landing on the shores of Utopia. A change came, however, as we approached Burmah; the sea became increasingly muddy through the great amount of soil brought down by the Irrawaddy and the other rivers.
THE SEVENTH WONDER 

Despite the extremely pleasant company on board, we have been long enough afloat to look out with interest for the first sight of land. At last, we see a long indistinct line low down on the horizon, and a few moments later our eyes are attracted to something rising above the monotony, and we look at it in wondering amazement, speculating as to its being a mountain or some freak of nature, for it grows upon one, glittering in the sunlight, and quivering in the most mysterious manner. Presently, however the older travellers take pity on us, and inform us that this is the Golden Pagoda of Rangoon-the Seventh wonder of the world, the greatest object of reverence and worship in the Far East, the one great enduring work of art whereby the Barbary East counters the flimsy monuments and grey adornments of civilisation. Viewed from the sea, this shaft of polished gold, rising 365 feet from the ground-considerably higher than the dock tower of Grimsby-and without a break projection, or ornament is profoundly impressive. It not only seems to dominate the town, but the entire country. It fills the eyes. It is the landscape, and the spotless blue heaven, the varied greenery of the groves and woods, the brilliant flowering shrubs, the brown and red picturesque houses and more ambitious building of Rangoon are so to speak only a background purposely placed there in order to throw the huge beautiful shaft of gold into great relief. Well may travellers who circled the globe again and again, declare that the Golden Pagoda has impressed them more profoundly than any other work of man, ancient or modern. Whether surveyed from a distance, or looked at from within a stone's throw, the effect is the same upon all beholders. It is more grandly sublime than the pyramids, more inspiring and impressive as the Parthenon, more exquisitely refreshing and sweeter than the Taj Mahal, more picturesque than the domes and minarets of St. Sophie of Constantinople. It is the first and only at.... ever made to introduce gold into the landscape on a large scale, and it must be admitted that it has ever been pre-eminently peaceful, for the impression created is one of awe and reverence, admiration and wonder, delight, and a desire to continuously feast the eyes on the gorgeous spectacle. And, somehow, in this sunny land of Burmah, it seems to be quite in accordance with the fitness of things to be, in fact, a part of the glorious sunshine, and the bright flowers, and the bounty and gaiety of Burmese nature. 
A VISIT TO THE PAGODA
Inasmuch as we had not made provision beforehand, and could not have a room until the afternoon, we promptly drove to the Pagoda. 
The Shive Dagon Pagoda, as this gilded wonder is called, stands on a great plinth on the top of a small hill. It is nearly 2,000 feet in the circumference at the bottom, but it tapers away to a small point, that a child could easily grasp it. The oldest, best preserved, and the grandest of all the monuments to Bhutan, it was commenced nearly 600 years before the birth of Christ, and it is more referenced by the devout Brahmins than any other monument in the East. Myriads of pilgrims come here from India, China, Tibet, and every part of the Eastern hemisphere, and the great stone steps which lead up to the first platform are nearly worn away by the bare feet of countless thousands who have ascended to worship through the long centuries, everything, in fact, with which the human frame has  come in contact, stone, brickwork, and wood, has been worn into strange shapes by the worshipping multitudes who have ebbed and flowed through the ages. 
When I speak of the Golden Pagoda as a spire, rising 365 feet into the air without a break or ornament, it must not be taken as in any way resembling the sever pointed spires which generally adorn our churches at home, No, it is entirely different. Imagine a great masonry plinth, of somewhat irregular shape, standing on the top of a hillock, and that this plinth has buttresses, and divide with small projections of marble and wood, wherein priests generally sit to instruct the disciples, you see four pairs of great stone steps leading up to the top of this plinth. On this platform, are small kiosks where one can buy anything which can be possibly offered as a sacrifice to the many gods by the multitude who come here to worship- candles, fruit, flowers, silks, and curios of all kinds.  And the attendants at these kiosks are invariably women- of a light brown complexion, black haired, pleasant featured, and clad in the brightest coloured silks, tastefully coiled round them as a robe. To judge by the easy graceful don't care-whether-they-sell-anything-or not style, and their amusement when anyone tries to barter them down, they take life very easily, and they certainly convey the impression that they are there to oblige you, and not to gather and to gather the sheckels. 
It is above this great plinth I have endeavoured to describe that the great rounded gilded spire begins to rise, contracting by a series of graceful curves, more rapidly until the top is reached, when it takes a little globular shape, ultimately terminating in a sharp point. Possibly the reader has seen some of the Chinese and Japanese toys curved in the upper part and finishing in a rounded top with a spike on it. Well, that is not unlike the upper part of the Golden Pagoda. Imperfect as this picture is, the reader may possibly gather some faint idea what this great mass looks like, glittering in the brilliant sunshine, and having nothing whatever to detract the attention from the impressive grandeur of the erection.
A GREAT FEAST DAY
As you pass up the stairways, you notice great images-half man and half beast. These are worshipped by the myriads of pilgrims who come hither -and there are always worshippers from all parts of the Indian Empire and China. On the day we visited it, there were, according to the statement of one the many attendant yellow-robed Bhuddhist priests, who are ever mingling with the crowd, fully 25,000 worshippers, but this was a great feast day, and I suppose we were especially fortunate in seeing so many people. There were large numbers of candles burning, as offerings, and 

multitudes of people kneeling, all engaged in prayer, and apparently so absorbed in their devotions, as to be entirely oblivious of their surroundings.
Although the Pagoda is surrounded with very extensive and beautiful gardens, amid which the gaily-clad people walked, there was no hubbub, nor the slightest trace of rowdyism, or the dragging of the laity of the streets. On the contrary, everyone seemed to be overcome with reverence and awe, and to feel that, by their very presence, they were taking part in a great and solemn religious ceremony. It was certainly a revelation to the Europeans and Americans who were present. Then the many little kindly acts, which one could not but notice, whereby even the wealthy assisted the poorest and most ragged, and where the strong came to this helm of the weak were a lesson to Christians present, and convinced them, that not-withstanding the many errors that may have swept into the Bhudda's teachings, there were many noble and generous traits in it. It was certainly very impressive that think that although 2,300 years have elapsed since Bhudda taught the people still show the most profound reverence in their worship, and that they try to live up to the great precepts that he taught.
BEAUTIFUL PUBLIC GARDENS
The park and garden, connected with the various religious orders, are the glory of Rangoon; indeed in no city in the world is so much space devoted to this purpose. There is both a Roman Catholic and a Protestant Cathedral, as well as churches, attached to the various Christian communities. All these as well as the Bhuddist Pagoda and temples have their grounds. This is alleged to be a serious hindrance to the development of the town on really commercial lines, but it is obvious that the Government of India will not, as a matter of public policy, meddle with their religious possessions. I suppose, if they interfered with the ground belonging to the Bhuddists, they would set the entire East by the ears, and caused endless trouble. Then there are large public gardens-amongst the most beautiful in India-with extensive lakes and magnificent trees, all created within the last 30 years.
How varied the population of this city is may be seen by the fact that its population over the last census was 233, 126 or 31,000 more than it was in 1891; and of this number, the Bhuddists are in the majority, with 90,000 while the Hindus come next with 65,000, and the Mohammedans third with 35,000. There are probably about 15,000 Europeans. The many gardens and parks-I have referred to tend to beautify the town, and to give it, when seen from a distance, a somewhat sylvan appearance. This, however, soon disappears on close acquaintance, for despite the fact that there are a number of fine buildings, the great majority of houses are of a ramshackle character. In the merry old days, when King Theobaw held high revel, and played ducks and drakes with people's lives, all the houses of Burma, including Rangoon, were built of wood or bamboo, but during recent years more ambitious efforts have been made in the large towns and brick and stone are more generally used. The result is, that there has been an invasion of corrugated iron roofs, and wherever that goes, it is goodbye to the posey and the picturesque. The fact, however, that Rangoon is served by the Irrawaddy, and extremely fine river which gives access for a thousand miles through the heart of the country, offers great possibilities for the growth of the city, and it is, therefore, not surprising to find that it is increasing rapidly.
ELEPHANTS AT WORK
On Tuesday morning, the 26th of February, we went to watch the elephants at work. The sight was certainly a very remarkable one, it is extraordinary what great animals can be trained to do. We saw them, for instance, busy at a saw-mill. The elephant would calmly pick up a great log of teak with his trunk, stack it with others just as a human being- or shall I say two or three dozen human beings-move it when directed with his foot, and together do some very heavy work, and all under the guidance of a man sitting on his back, who would speak to him, or just kick him. The use of such strong and intelligent creatures in a timber yard is obviously of the greatest value; in fact they take the place of manual labour in Rangoon.
During my brief stay in Rangoon, I had a good opportunity of seeing the people, and was favourably impressed with them-an impression which was confirmed as I penetrated the interior. Generally speaking they are under-sized and slight. They have a somewhat Chinese cast of a face, but are brighter looking, and are, as a rule, smiling. For the most part, they wear coarse black hair coiled up on the top of their heads, and, as the men seldom have hair on their faces, and both sexes wear brightly coloured silk robes in pretty much the same style, it is rather difficult to distinguish the women from the men. The staple food of the people is rice, and even in the large towns wages are still poor, running about four rupees a week, or little more than 5s., but in Upper Burma they are only two rupees, or about 2s. 6d. a week.
As there are no fewer than seven bazaars or markets in the city, we took the opportunity of going through one of them, but as it had many characteristics of the bazaars I have already referred to in other Indian towns, it is unnecessary to enter into details.
On the following morning we took the steamer up the Irrawaddy. This regarded as one of the sights of India, as it affords an admirable opportunity for the seeing the interior of the country, and as the scenery is very beautiful and ever changing, it is well worth the four days and four nights spent in travelling in Mandalay. The Irrawaddy is a winding river, and in some portions is very shallow especially during the dry season. Indeed, we ran aground on several occasions. Although glorious forests filled with the most valuable timber abound in Burmah, one sees little of them in steaming up this great and majestic stream. And yet nothing could be more delightful or picturesque. The moving panorama on the ever-changing waters, transported us to bye-gone days. There were old fashioned high-pooped vessels, and primitive canoes with a single occupant; raft-like craft with sails large enough to drive a three decker; fishing craft manned with shaggy, wild looking natives; houseboats apparently containing an entire village community; solitary individuals in little Round boats resembling the homely wash-tubs, and huge timber rafts equal to a king's ransom in teak blocks, with their huts and groups of watching, wondering, silent, smiling natives.
SCENES ON THE RIVER BANKS
When one turned to the banks the scene was equally attractive. Now we would pass stretches of sandy waste, and anon clumps of dense,  brightly flowered jungles, or come upon open, well cultivated plains and villages made up of such flimsy mats that they seemed unable to withstand a ten minutes onslaught of one of our bluff Nor' Westers. And then we would pass through a rocky region where the boulders were covered with the greenest of mosses and flowering creepers. Occasionally, gay coloured too. We were greeted with the most delightful scents as we passed through a region of flowering groves. Everything reminded us that we were in a land of infinite variety, a corner of the earth where Nature could be seen in all her glory.
We stopped at several places, and were tied up during the night, generally for six
hours, and here we found native children and adults offering the simple articles they make in their far off villages for sale, but they were never noisy or importunate, but maintained a studied silence; even the two natives at the wheel standing there for hours never saying a word. It was all so strange and delightful, that one felt as though one was in a new world, or in last Atlanta, and that human history had been rolled back for a thousand years. But by-and-bye, this Arcadian city tones down, 

and there are that we are returning to the modern as indeed we are, for we are approaching the royal city of The King that once gloried in the title of "The King of Kings".

A Journey to the East; Rough Notes from my Diary; Number 11, (by Sir George Doughty, M.P.) published in the Grimsby Telegraph on Monday  April 22nd, 1907.

Burma is the playground of the East, its people, "a nation at school", inhabiting a wondrously fertile land interspersed with fine rivers, and abounding in magnificent forests and most valuable timber. The Burmese appear to be as happy as the day is long. Nowhere do you see the dreary melancholy, the listless air of not caring for life, or the hopeless outlook into the future which is so characteristic of millions in India. Whatever may have been the defects of the rule of King Theebaw and his predecessors, it certainly cannot be laid to their charge that they hustled their people along a thorny highway of civilisation. For endless generations they have been tillers of the soil, and it always produced sufficient to keep their families in modest comfort. There was no hankering after money, for the very good reason that there wasn't any; neither was there any Parliament nor municipalities, nor newspapers to stir them up and show them the way to the Promised Land. They were just a simple agricultural people, who didn't believe in meeting trouble halfway, or interfering with their neighbour's concerns.
Before one reaches Mandalay, one sees enough of the country to become genuinely interested in it, and a wish to see something of a real Burmese town, for, whereas Rangoon, the modern capital, has become thoroughly cosmopolitan, the great majority of the 184,000 inhabitants of Mandalay are Burmese. Of this number, fully 4,000 are Bhuddhist monks, but this means little, for it is one of the peculiarities of this youthful kingdom that every man must at one time in his life, to be a monk, and perform his ecclesiastical duties in a yellow silken robe. Possibly this accounts for the essentially powerful character of the people. The Buddhist faith, strongly inculcates the practice of peace and goodwill.
My first impressions of Mandalay were certainly not very favourable. When a man has travelled for several days up a river, between two high ranges of mountains, and been almost overcome with the heat and attacks of the insect tribe, which are particularly ferocious upon the Irrawaddy, one does not appreciate having to drive for two hours across sandy waste before he arrives at his destination. The beauties of the city, however, become apparent on close approach, and it appears to be a mass of pagodas, which cover the ground as thickly as blackberries in autumn. They are all sizes and divers forms, some are elaborately carved and others as plain as a cheap tombstone. You find them elbowing each other in the crowded city, or standing solitary and weed-grown in the quiet retreats of the suburbs. Consequently I will not attempt to describe even the leading ones, unless it is that remarkable structure known as the 450 Pagodas. I don't suppose there is another building in the world which can so soon produce a mental maze.

Now King Theebaw, the descendant of the Sun, the arbiter of Life, the King of Kings, and the King of Righteousness-to give him a few of the many titles his 9,000,000 subjects, The ornamentation and covering of each are uncle. This monarch being both devout and thoughtful for the welfare of his subjects, came to the conclusion that their religious education was sadly neglected. Calling together the most learned priests, he directed that they should transcribe the purest version of the commandments of Bhudda on to stone. It took 450 huge slabs to record these works, which when completed, he had formed into a square, with a wall round, and a roof. This curious erection is about half a mile square, and the ornamentation and covering of each are identical, the effect upon one's mind after walking up lane after lane of this singular library, is most bewildering. Like the crystallised good intentions of many would-be benefactors, however, it does not appear to be appreciated, for it is deserted and grass grown. If moths and dust could corrupt such enduring work, I suppose it would have disappeared long ago.
The most striking feature of Mandalay is Fort Dufferin, a remarkable construction a mile and a quarter long on each side with brick walls 28 feet high, great gold ornamented teak watch towers, and a wide clear moat 100 feet wide, totally unlike the ancient moat, the remains of which most of us seen, in that it abounds with fish, and its banks are covered with fine trees, Twelve great gates give access to the fort. Right in the middle of this great enclosure is the Palace of the Kings. There is, however, nothing here worthy of attention, after one has seen the exquisite tombs and palaces of India. There is no symmetry in construction, no art in the decoration, no refinement in the surroundings. There is plenty of wood carving, but it is clumsy, and, in parts, too elaborate. Altogether the place smacks of the semi-barbaric state, and seems somehow to be entirely out of harmony with the simple nature of Burmese Life.
Who so goeth to Mandalay must needs visit the bazaar-a market entirely different from those we had become somewhat accustomed to in India. Here we saw the old and the new, the East and the West, the artistic and the utilitarian elbowing each other in the most curious fashion. On every hand, were Burmese men and women attired in the brightest of silk robes, offering well-nigh everything that the East produces, and noisily and obtrusively, or with a look of tense anxiety on their faces, such as one sees elsewhere, up with a happy smile and gentle tones and easy manners. There were likewise tribesmen from the surrounding mountainous districts, as well as people as far afield as India, China, Tibet, and Japan.
But a day was more than enough to see the sights of this deposed capital, and by six o' clock on the Tuesday morning we were en route for the Shan mountains. As this district is not generally visited by Europeans, we took provisions with us, but we happily secured the services of a cook, and had no mis-givings on that score. It took our two-engined train eight hours to do the 80 miles, but the slowness only enabled us the better to admire the glorious scenery through which we passed. We were, in fact, in the midst of the jungle, and here we saw Burma at its best, for its flowers and vegetation are at their brightest during March. In the forest, were huge teak trees, some attaining the height of 125 feet, and with a girth of 25 feet. Here there was very kind of bamboo, from the giant to the dwarf. Presently, we passed through regions given over to the most brilliant flowering shrubs and the most exquisite orchids. Here, indeed, was Nature in all her glory. We were not far from the borderland of China. There were no roads or bridal paths, and nothing to guide us out of this wonderful wilderness, save the marvellous instinct of the natives, which enables them to accurately strike a bee-line for the point they want.
About two o' clock we reached a Government dar, and took possession of it. Presently, we descended the gorge which stretched below and had the opportunity of looking at an American bridge, which spans the chasm. As we had resolved to stay here for the night, we had an opportunity, as we sat under the verandah, of seeing the most marvellous sunset it has ever been my lot to behold. I thought the one I saw at Aden wondrously beautiful, but this was infinitely more glorious.
During our excursion, we saw many native girls carrying fruit and sweetmeats upon their heads. The night we spent at the Government dar, I have referred to, and I could not sleep particularly well, but, on looking out of the door, I found the servant sound asleep on the mat with a lighted lamp beside him, in order to keep off tigers and other wild animals. We should very much have liked to have some big game sport while in the mountains, but it was impossible in the time at our disposal. On the Wednesday evening, we reached Mandalay at 7-30, having spent two most enjoyable days in the more remote and little visited part of this delightful country.
One of the most regrettable features of Burma, is the existence on the plague in some of the larger towns. In Mandalay alone, people were dying from it at a rate of 50 per day. In England one reads of the plague as a far off visitation, which never comes into one's life, but here one meets it, so to speak, face to face. On the evening of my return to Mandalay for instance, I was conversing with a gentleman who lived near the hotel, I learnt that on the previous afternoon, his native cook had died from the plague that afternoon after suffering 12 hours. This sort of thing brings the scourge home to one, and makes one glad that our variable English climate does not allow it to gain a footing in these islands. It is strange but true, however, that the plague seldom assails white people in India.
Next day, we left Mandalay en route for Rangoon by rail, and in the very large stations through we passed, we saw great numbers of natives all waiting. The same characteristics marked them all-quiet, orderly, good-tempered, easy people, totally unused to the hurly burly of civilisation. Europeans like them much better than they do the natives of India, for they belong to a different race, and do not seem to be for ever brooding over some great trouble.
At eight o' clock I left Rangoon. I must say that I left beautiful Burma with some regret. None of the countries I have visited have left a more delightful impression, and that, I believe, is the experience of very European that goes there. The climate is good, the land wonderfully fertile, and the people good-natured and willing to learn. From what I saw and heard, I do not think that any part of the British Empire offers greater possibilities than this, and when it is opened up, and its natural resources are fully developed, it will be an exceedingly valuable market. In fact, it is now. It will take the people some time to relinquish their picturesque silks for Lancashire cottons and Yorkshire mixtures, but the change is rapidly going on. A very extensive export trade is being done in teak and other valuable timber, while the area under rice cultivation is rapidly increasing. Happily there is very little chance of coming into conflict with the people's religious convictions for The Burmese are much more relevant on these points than the Hindus or Mohammedans.
Nothing more strikingly illustrates the superiority of the Burman, over the natives of Indian than the status of the women. In the Indian Empire, they occupy a very subordinate position, whereas they are practically on the same level as men in Burma. It is true, they work and carry heavy burdens, but they exert much greater influence in their homes than their sisters of India. They have generally speaking, an admirable dignity and grace which impresses Englishmen very much.
Of course the conquering Briton is responsible for many of the changes which are taking place. Some of these are very curious. Take marriage for instance. There is no ceremony. If a man and woman live together, they are regarded as married, and the woman has the legal status of wife; she keeps her own property and shares half that jointly acquired during the marriage state. The village elders settle all matters of division of property, divorce, legitimacy, etc. All this sounds very loose to Britishers fresh from home, but so far as one can judge, it does not appear to have demoralised or degraded the Burmese-either men or women.
As I stood on the deck of the steamer on the Friday evening, and saw the forest-clad land of Burma gradually fade from view, the glorious golden Pagoda, that monument of an ancient and gentle faith, being the last object to disappear, I could not but feel, that the British people, in taking over the kingdom of this amiable and peaceful people, had undertaken an enormous responsibility. Happily, those who have been to Burma are most strongly impressed with that responsibility, and are most wishful, while giving it the best civilisation has to offer, to retain as far as possible many of the most useful and delightful characteristics of this charming race.

A Journey to the East: Notes from my Diary: No. 12: (by Sir George Doughty M. P.) published in the Grimsby Telegraph on 29th April, 1907.

We spent a couple of delightful days on the Sea of Bengal during our 900 miles journey from Rangoon to Madras. It was certainly hot, but as I had now, become somewhat accustomed to the climate that was not disagreeable to me. In common with other early risers, I was rewarded on Monday morning with a fine view from the water of a city which has been a stronghold of European settlers for over 350 years, and one which may well be described as the commercial heart of the densely populated and fertile regions of lower India. It has no river, and as it abides on the sea and its harbour accommodation is poor, in stormy weather, ships have to leave the shelter of the breakwater and put out to sea.
Even the well-appointed liners find some difficulty in landing the luggage of their passengers. This is done by quaint original and apparently unwieldy boats, but the seven natives by which they are manned can force them through the water at a good speed.
Thanks to the efforts of hospitable friends we had the opportunity of thoroughly seeing Madras. It is a large and enterprising city, with a population of 500,000, of whom 411,000 are Hindus, 57,000 Mohammedans, and 41,000 Christians. There are, I believe more adherents of the latter faith here than in any other parts of the Indian Empire. Many of the streets are wide and some are planted with trees. There are, of course, public buildings, and, as might be expected in the gateway to Southern India the place is well guarded, there being a great fort on the seafront, with a strong arsenal within. Amongst the objects of interest here are a number of flags, and curious cannon, taken from the Dutch and French during the long struggle for supremacy of India.
The want of a natural harbour has certainly handicapped Madras. Although an artificial one has been made by the construction of twin breakwaters they must at the best, leave much to be desired, for on the average only some 600 vessels with a tonnage of one and a quarter million enter the port during the year. There can be little doubt that if it possessed a great natural harbour it would have made Madras the greatest port in India. It taps the low lying fertile lands of the South, whereby far the greatest quantity of wheat and rice is grown. If the husbandmen of this amazingly fertile and most thickly peopled part of India could dispose of this produce more quickly and on better terms, as they could if the sea outlet were better, there would be no risk of famine and they would be better customers for our manufactured goods. At rare intervals the most violent storms carry death and devastation along the whole of the Southern Coast. In 1746, for instance, twenty vessels in the Madras Roads went down, taking with them 3,000 men. Equally terrible cyclones occurred in 1782, 1807, 1811, and even so recently as 1872, the Hotspur, along with eight European ships and a score of native craft sank with a great number of men. Unfortunately one has to go nearly a mile out to sea to reach a depth of 10 fathoms, so that the work of constructing a really efficient harbour is a tsk of great difficulty. Still a big effort is being put forth to make a harbour a safe one in all weathers and the construction is now progressing satisfactorily. Should these be completed before another periodic cyclone has the opportunity of destroying then then the future of Madras will be bright indeed.
I was certainly impressed with the native labourer. Darker than the Bengalese compatriots or the natives in other ports, they appear early working harder and more contently, and is saving a great deal, for their wages are only six annas per day, or sixpence; but that is an improvement on the rate and  in Bengal and Bombay. There is abundant evidence not only in Madras, but in the South of India, that both Protestant and Roman Catholics have worked with devotion and enthusiasm. One of the most interesting buildings in Madras at St. Mary's Church, which was originally built in 1680, and rebuilt in 1759. Seven distinguished Englishmen are buried here and amongst the most interesting relics at a Service of plate presented by Governor Yale, afterwards the founder of Yale College in America; and a number of flags of British colonies which distinguished them ..... cannot in India. Another building of interest was the Roman Catholic Cathedral. Tradition states that it stands over the remains of St. Thomas, who journeyed to India and suffered martyrdom there. The tomb is pointed out on the south side of the Cathedral.
The Wednesday morning, March 13th, we rose betimes and were on the road to Trichinoty, (now known as Tiruchirapallia) distance of 500 miles, to see the great temple of Srirangam, which all agreed is one of the sights of India. Although of the great antiquity and diversity in its general design, it is still wonderfully well preserved and emphasises again how these artists of a bygone time built in love, devotion, and profound reverence and with the marvellous patience throwing their souls into their work, even the .... of them, being well content to hide their identity and to emboss their ... souls, their love of art and intense religious fervour in these great arches, this truly shrined mesoliths and sculptured features. Some idea of the extent of the temple may be gathered from the fact that the outer wall measures 2,475 feet by 2,880 feet. There is a second and smaller wall 20 feet high, and within this lesser enclosure the celebrating Brahmans live. There is an extensive bazaar and other buildings so that the place really looks not unlike an Eastern City.
Many elaborate descriptions have been written of this great temple, but all fall far short of the reality. One of the first features which attracts the eye is a huge carved gateway 48 feet high. After passing through this, one enters a passage 100 feet long and 43 feet from floor to ceiling. Many of the stones used here are so great that one is puzzled to know how the old builders managed to raise them to such a height with the primitive means at their command. Take the stone on the inside of the great arch already referred to, for instance. This is 29ft. 7in., long, 4ft. 5in., broad, and 8ft. thick. After traversing long high passages and great halls a third wall surrounded enclosure was reached. This is the most sacred part of the temple, but only the Hindus are allowed to enter, so we had to perforce to turn away regretfully. In this portion the jewels are kept. Here we were fortunate for we met a leading official, who introduced us to several of the more prominent Hindus, who secured us a view of the jewels and precious stones. It was certainly one of the most amazing sights I had ever seen in this wonderful land; and a sight which would have made the diamond merchants of Hatton Garden grow green with envy, for these jewels are valued at £2,000,000. We saw the Juggernaut Car and the sacred elephants, and great numbers of holy bulls.
Some of the walls and ceilings of certain halls have paintings symbolical of the worship of Vishnu, while one bears the rather poetic name of the Hall of a Thousand Pillars. We also mounted the terrace on the top of the archway, and had a good survey of the whole temple. So extensive is it that we were not at all surprised to be told that during the great festivals as many as 50,000 people worship within its walls. No European can visit the great building without being impressed with the amazing self-sacrifice of the Hindus for their faith or the firm hold is has upon them.

Did time and space permit I should like to describe the numerous temples I viewed in Southern India. No two were alike, each having a beauty of its own. One of them, for instance, consisted of seven squares, one within the other, with gates and towers to each one. When we visited it 7,000 people were worshipping within its walls.
Amongst other cities which we visited was that of Madura, which has a population of 106,000 souls. It was once a place of great importance, and was the capital of the native State. Issuing from our sleeping car early in the morning we made a tour of the native city and we agreeably surprised to find the streets wide and clean, and the people looking happy, contented, and prosperous. The old Palace of the kings and great temple are two of the most striking features of this ancient city. The former is a beautiful building, with granite pillars, and. In some respects has the aspects of a Gothic structure. It has a great quadrangle 252 feet long, and a hall 128 feet long and 67 feet high. It has, however, been restored, and is now used as public offices.
The great temple on the outskirts of the city, is however the magnet which draws all who are in search of beauty and antiquity. It was built in 1623 in honour of Siva, and his fish-eyed consort. Such are facilities for visitors that "this temple is perhaps the most interesting to visit of all Hindu shrines, and gives one the most complete idea of Hindu ritual." It is in the form of a parallelogram, and amongst its most remarkable characteristics is the hall of the eight Goddesses, whose marble effigies support the roof of the hall where traders of various kinds offer their wares for sale. Here we also saw the Hall of 1000 pillars and numerous stone representations of gods and goddesses, with gold-plated columns, and figures of fabled monsters, to portray which, the sculptor must have been suffering from perpetual nightmares. The Hindu stationmaster showed us through the temple, and through his influence we saw the jewels and precious stones belonging to the temple.
There is certainly a very considerable amount of wealth locked up in the temples of India. They are invariably maintained by lands. Thus this one owns 50 villages, and has an income of £6,000, which is a very sum in India. However, the heads of the religious orders are altogether on the side of the British. They say that they love our rule because their property is safe, and that is a good deal in a country where the law of might has been right for countless centuries.
Having had the opportunity of conversing with many people who know southern India thoroughly and by using my eyes I am glad to say that the conclusion I came to was that this portion of our Indian Empire is making slow but steady headway. By means of colossal irrigation works, whereby millions of acres are regularly watered; through improvement in transit and the utmost vigilance on the part of the Government the land is more regularly cultivated than ever before the terrors of famine are being somewhat reduced, and the pestilence is more under control. Of course the people are poor- terribly poor-and their powers of resistance are so slight that it is a matter of the greatest difficulty to improve their lot. Some improvement is however noticeable. It will, of course, take time, possibly generations, ere the overcrowded millions of southern India can be generally described as happy and prosperous. It is something, however, if any headway at all is being made. If we can but raise them from the despondent and semi-starving state in which they have lived for ages, Great Britain will be deserved well of mankind.

A Journey to the East: Rough Notes from my Diary: No. 14: (by Sir George Doughty M.P.) published in the Grimsby Telegraph Wednesday May 15th 1907.

Westward Ho! On the evening of Thursday, March 28th, we steamed out of Colombo Harbour on our way home. Any apprehension we might have felt that the return journey would prove monotonous was happily dispelled, for we found a most entertaining company on board the good ship Marmora. Amongst others were his Royal Highness the Landgrave of Hesse and suite, and a considerable number of Australians, who made things merry by arranging dances, bridge parties, and concerts. It was originally intended the Duke and Duchess of Connaught and Princess Patricia should travel by ship, but the programme was changed, and they intimated that they would come on board at Aden. Amongst the acquaintances whom it was my pleasure to make was of Mr. Deakin, the Prime Minister of Australia, who was on his way, accompanied by his esteemed wife, to attend the Colonial Conference in London. We discussed the question of Colonial Preference on several occasions, and I was glad to find that he was very enthusiastic on the point. He did me the honour of saying that he had heard of me by repute, and that he had read some of my speeches.
On the following Tuesday evening, a fancy dress ball was given, and although I did not take part in it, I enjoyed the spectacle very much ; indeed, I doubt if many of our large towns could have done better, for there were fully one hundred fancy dresses, and some were certainly unique. At eleven o' clock on the following day, we arrived at Aden. As we had to wait for passengers and mails from Bombay, we took the opportunity to inspect Aden, not having the chance of landing on our journey out. Like every other great coaling station, one finds that this town, of 44,000 inhabitant, contains no slight proportion of the scouring of the world. Here were Jews from well-nigh every part of the globe; as well as British soldiers and sailors; Hindus and Greeks; French and German, and Yankee traders, jostling each other or shouting their wares in the strangest and most outlandish of tongues. Here, too, were tall, dark, fierce-eyed and ready-handed Bedouins, leading camels laden with skins and spices, dates, and the primitive wonders of Araby the Blest. Dusty and Way-worn, after their month’s journey over pathless desert, they still look manly and dignified as they turned their searching eyes in every direction. I doubt not that after their grim and weary experiences of the waterless waste, they looks upon this yellow coloured babel as one of the pleasantest places on earth. The profound silence of the desert had apparently left its impress upon them, for they spoke little, and I caught more than one glint in their eyes as they turned contemptuously from the chaffering crowd in the bazaar. From the manner in which they drew their white or striped and hooded robes about them they evidently thought themselves in queer company.
The tanks of Aden are, however, its chief attraction. Although there are several condensers in the town, some of which belong to the Government, they cannot supply a majority of the people with water. As rain seldom falls and there are consequently no rivers, tanks have been erected in the mountain range some five miles from the town. According to tradition these tanks were first built by Solomon. However that may be, they were restored in 1856 when the British captured Aden. When it rains in this district, it is a perfect deluge, and the water rushes down deep ravines, which cut up the sides of the mountains, and is caught in the upper tanks. These huge receptacles are placed one above the other, the lower ones receiving the overflow from those above. As these reservoirs will hold 8,000,000 gallons of water, some idea of the benefit of the British have conferred on the district will be gathered. I was, of course, greatly interested in inspecting such enterprising engineering work. The way Aden obtains its salt is also interesting. Sea water is pumped into shallow pans made in the earth, and the hot sun soon evaporates the water, the resultant salt being sold by the Italian company which owns the pans.
We were well on our way towards the Red Sea on Thursday morning. Good Friday was the hottest day I ever remember-far hotter than we found in India. It did not, however, apparently affect the Duke of Connaught who had joined the ship, as arranged, at Aden, for he moved freely amongst the passengers and chatted in the pleasantest manner. He is a thorough Briton. On the following day, we had an agreeable change in the weather, a strong head wind bringing us the greatest relief.
On Easter morning, we arrived at Suez, and promptly changed into warmer European clothes. At 2-30 in the afternoon, we entered the Canal, only to find our progress slow after the manner we had raced through the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea. We had an apt illustration of the injury done to the commerce through the delay in widening the Canal, for, after travelling for three hours at the rate of eight miles per hour, we were compelled to lie up at one of the passing stations, owing to a French steamer being ashore about a mile ahead. Happily, unlike others, we were only kept 4 and a half hours. Next morning, when I came on deck, I found we were still in the apparently endless Canal, and we had ample opportunity of looking at the gloomy desert on each side. It well deserves its name, for there was not the slightest sign of life, unless we accept the great flocks of wild birds which sped over it as though fleeing from such an inhospitable waste, or at rare intervals a dreary looking Arab village, inhabited by natives who had found work on the Canal.
Later in the day, however, we found some variety, for as we approached Port Said, we saw a number of steamers coaling, and many others waiting their turn to pass through the artificial waterway. Unlike the generality of passengers, we had no opportunity of landing, as the mails are transferred from the large liners here into a small steamer and quickly despatched to Brindisi, and we resolved to travel by this route and thereby save two days, besides giving us an excellent chance of viewing the country as we travelled through Italy and France. We parted with our many new friends on the Marmora with considerable regret, but that is the lot of those who go down to the sea in ships. I was especially impressed with the Australians. They were as happy as sandboys. They were apparently well supplied with good things of this world, as they well might be, for they are now getting three times as much for their wool as they did three years ago, while the price of lambs has risen during the same period from 5s. to 15s. Australia is evidently the land for enterprising young men who wish to enjoy life and to make fortunes rapidly.
It was undoubtedly a novel change to pass from the great Marmora of 10,500 tons to the little steamer of 1,700 tons, especially when the latter is forced through the water, however rough the weather, at the rate of 22 knots. We had not been out of Port Said an hour before we experienced a strong headwind, accompanied by a very heavy swell. By two o' clock, nearly everyone of the 70 passengers was ill, and had betaken themselves to their berths, where they indulged in those "longings to die", which are so characteristic of sea sickness. Some five or six of us, however, sat on the lee of the ship in chairs, wrapped in rugs. We had a specimen of a Mediterranean storm on the outward journey, but it was nothing to this! As the little ship ploughed through the great waves, she threw the water in torrents over us. As the storm increased, the rest of us experienced the luxury of sea sickness-in fact, the wails and groans of the other passengers were enough to knock the hardiest sea-dog over. Happily this novel experience was of short duration, for by-and-bye, I found myself on the dock again. The sea having subsided, we had the opportunity of sighting the far-famed Island of Crete, which came in view at 8-30 on Tuesday morning. Even from the storm-tossed little ship, the scene was splendid, the rugged rocks standing out with a marvellous distinctness, while the snow-clad mountains of the interior glistened in the morning sun, and reflected well-nigh every tint of the rainbow. Here and there, too, one caught a glint of the vine-clad valleys, and mountain slopes, adorned with verdure. It is indeed a fitting gateway to the beautiful islands of Greece, whose charms and glories were sung by great poets when Britain was only the home of skin-clad savages. Next day, we passed the Ionian Islands, and had both eyes and minds refreshed by the beauties of Nature, and the sight of historic mountains whose past took me back to the time of Socrates and Plato, Solon and Euripides added to the knowledge, the delight and wisdom of mankind. We ran along under the shelter of these beautiful islands for nearly 30 hours. But our racing little steamer soon left them all behind, and carried us quickly to the mainland. Despite the heavy storm, the gallant little craft accomplished the 930 miles' journey from Port Said to Brindisi in 50 hours.
It was something like relief that we stepped ashore at Brindisi. Having some time at our disposal before beginning our 500 miles railway journey to London, we made a tour of the town. Although it has a population of 23,000, it has practically no industries, its only claim to modern celebrity being that it is a growing and rising port, whence steamers ply to the Levant, to India, and Australia, and it is the terminus for the trans-Alpine railway from Calais to Southern Italy, it necessarily find employment for a good many people. Watched by the waters of the golden Adriatic, it has provided opportunity for no slight engineering skill. Its artificial inner harbour encircles half the town, and gives safe refuge from the occasional fierce storms which sweep this sunny sea. For a good many centuries it was neglected, and its harbour silted up, but constant dredging warrants the hope that an average depth of 30 feet will be secured. Largely owing to the initiative of the P. and O., new docks, quays, and moles have been constructed, and the belief is held that Brindisi will become one of the most active and enterprising ports in the Mediterranean within the next 20 or 30 years. There would certainly appear to be some ground for such sanguine anticipations, seeing that in 1861 the population of the place totalled 7,000 souls.
Brindisi's chief attraction is its great historic past. It is a walled city, and contains a number of exceedingly interesting ruins. If its stones could but speak, they would tell many a moving tale of war and conquest, live and poetry, storm and earthquake. The Phoenicians ran their primitive galleys into this ancient port. It was here that the Romans embarked when they invaded Greece, and went forth to conquer Asia; and here it was that Julius Caesar besieged Pompey, Horace, the Roman poet, visited the town to witness a league between Octavius and Anthony in the year 37 B.C., and Virgil died here as he was returning from Greece. Then the place had a rest for over a thousand years, until 1348, in fact, when the King of Hungary sacked and destroyed it. It was from this port too, that the three great Crusades went forth, filled with enthusiastic hope that they would wrest the Holy Sepulchre for the fierce Saracens.
Amongst the most dreadful experiences was a fearful earthquake in 1456, when nearly all the inhabitants were buried beneath the ruins. You may still see a ruined church destroyed on that occasion. As might be expected such an ancient town boasts its castle, a grim structure erected in 1225; but, alas, to what ignoble uses can the most venerable pile come at last, for this "Castello" is now used as the city jail. Amongst the other features is a marble column, believed to be part of a pagan temple. Situated near the quay, it is 50 feet high, and being covered with small figures of gods, is certainly a very interesting object. Save for these features, the town presents little attraction, many of the streets being narrow and dirty. It has been fittingly called the Dover of Rome. Could anything however, more fittingly illustrate the amazing progress humanity has made during the last two thousand years than the fact that it took Horace and Julius Caesar longer to travel from Rome to Brindisi than it now takes the express train to run from Brindisi to London!
The traveller who uses his eyes aright may learn a good deal of the country through which his panting express rushes. I was certainly delightfully impressed with the fertility of both Italy and France. Every available acre was apparently cultivated; even the mountain slopes in the more temperate regions having their vineyards and mulberry groves, from which to produce in the one case "wine which maketh glad the heart of man", and in the other, the silk worms, the cocoons of which have done so much during the last half century to build up the great silk industry of France. Then there were innumerable orchards and well-tilled fields of vegetables and corn-all so eloquent of the great system of peasant proprietorship which has so much for France and Italy during the past century.
By-and-bye, however, all these evidences of the husbandman's labours grew more and more scarce as we climbed steadily into the higher regions of the Alps, and finally found ourselves amid the eternal snows quite 7,000 feet above sea level. As we darted along the edge of precipices, dashed between the giant peaks of over-hanging mountains, skirted some might glacier, with here and there a deep blue crevasse with its century old mantle of untrodden snow, gazed on the dark fir forests, nestling in the valley, one could understand that irresistible attraction which draws thousands from the sturdy, the pulpit, the Press, and the counting house throughout Europe to the delightful Alps, and tempts them to scale its countless dizzy heights.
But the hours pass, and all these glories are a memory to me. By-and-Bye we find ourselves aboard the turbine steamer at Calais bound for Dover, and in due course, step ashore in Old England again, to be greeted by bleak winds and changeable weather. And when at last at Grimsby again, to feel the warm handgrip of many friends I appreciate so highly. I feel that neither the glories of the Far East, the majesty of the ocean, or the unsurpassed grandeur of the everlasting hills, can compensate a man for the affection, confidence, and the trust of his friends.
I cannot close these articles without one word of thanks to your many readers, who have taken the trouble to express their appreciation of the small efforts I have made in these rough notes to convey to them my impressions of India, Burma and Ceylon, and for the flattering suggestion that I should publish them in book form. They have not been written with that intention, and would require entirely re-editing for that purpose. If time will permit I may sometime gratify the wishes of my friends.
There are many subjects on which I have not touched, notably the present unrest in India. We met it at several places, and unless a firm but just hand is at the helm of the Government of India, I am convinced there is serious trouble for India in the near future.
I should like to hear testimony to the self-sacrificing and noble work of the missionaries in the East. The good work which they are accomplishing is often spoken of by persons who have returned from India in slighting terms. Usually, if you observe, you will find that these people have never troubled to enquire, nor have ever allied themselves with Christian work and enterprise in any form whatever. It is true, that on the surface, they do not appear to have made great headway many could wish. But it must not be forgotten that the problem is an enormous one that their fight is against superstition and ignorance deep rooted in generations, against the greatest odds that can be conceived. I saw many churches, and heard much of the excellent work done amongst the people. They are moulding the intelligence and character of the people in Christian ideals. The newspapers and public men argue and settle questions from the Christian standpoint. They are doing splendid work for the cause of education. The Protestants and Roman Catholics alike have cause for thankfulness that so much good seed has, and is being, sown, and assured of the harvest in the future. I made a point, wherever possible, of meeting the Missionary, and having a talk with him. I was proud of these faithful men, and thankful to them for their personal kindness to me. In most cities, they are the leaders of education, and are sought after as such.
In Colombo, for example, they are three splendid colleges-the English Church, Catholic and Wesleyan Methodist, and they are most creditable institutions. The last Sunday I was in the East, I attended morning service at the Wesleyan Methodist Church, and heard an excellent native minister. He called on me afterwards, and very kindly took me over the new Wesley College, a splendid building both in architecture, as well as equipment, and would be a credit to any English city. There were 500 native students, receiving all the advantages that a sound education under Christian leadership can give them. For my part, I have faith enough to believe that one day the light of Truth will banish from that great hemisphere error and superstition, with all the wrongs and cruelty they entail.