ny other Oriental town I have ever seen. The streets were
filled with foot-passengers, in bright and variegated costumes, passing
busily on, or stopping to make purchases at the shops, which were on the
ground-floor, with the whole front open, and the merchant sitting in the
midst of his wares. The next story is inhabited, I believe, by his
family; but I did not gain an entrance into any of the common houses. The
outside front generally presented a mass of wood carving, each small
window surrounded by a border two or three feet broad, while under the
eaves of the house projected the singular balcony I have already
described.

The great square, in which is situated the Durbar, or palace of the King,
presented in itself almost all the characteristic features of a Nepaul
town. As it suddenly burst upon us on turning the corner of the long
street leading from the city-gate, the view was in every respect most
striking. This square, or court, is well paved, and contains the Chinese
pagoda, composed entirely of wood, from which it is a said the town
derives its name. Its three or four roofs, glittering one above another,
are supported by grotesque representations of unknown deities, and
figures of all sizes and colours, not always of the most proper
description. The whole formed a mass of green, gold leaf, and vermilion;
and was guarded by a sentry, who, in order to be in keeping with his
charge, wore a long flowing gown of bright colours, reaching to his
ankles, and marched backwards and forwards at the top of a long flight of
steps. A couple of well-carved lions, in grey sandstone, guarded the
lower steps as efficiently as he did the upper ones. There were at least
four pagodas, painted in like way, and guarded in like manner, in the
great square of Katmandu. The guard-house contained a large stand of
arms of antique construction. There was also the Durbar, the residence
of the Rajah, a straggling building, almost European in its style, and
gaudy enough to please even the late King of Bavaria; close to it was a
huge deformed image of Siva, sitting in an uncomfortable posture on a
square stone, violently gesticulating with her fourteen arms, perhaps at
a party of heretical Bhootyas who were passing tranquilly by, leading
along their sheep, decidedly the cleanest and most respectable-looking
members of the group. Beyond, high and gloomy houses almost touched,
their wooden fringes creaking responsively to one another