dels; its streets are broad and finely
paved; there is every evidence of wealth and cultivation. But Hindus
greatly outnumber Mohammedans; Parsees are strong; Christians are
active, but still comparatively few. In thought and customs, Bombay is
still essentially Oriental, while yet profoundly influenced by modern
newspapers and modern inventions. It was a memorable change for us
travelers to emerge from its Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, and then to find
ourselves, first in its Caves of Elephanta, and secondly, in its
Towers of Silence.

A word of explanation is necessary for each of these notable objects of
interest. Elephanta is a little island eight miles from Bombay, and so
named because of its general resemblance in shape to an elephant.
Elephanta Island forms a beautiful object as seen from the deck of the
little steamer that serves for a ferry, and the views from the summit of
Elephanta Hill, over the Bombay Bay, with the gleaming towers of the
green city in the distance, are very charming. The island is a great
resort, however, not so much for the views therefrom, as because it is
the seat of a rock-hewn temple excavated centuries ago in honor of Siva,
the Hindu god, whose province it is to destroy. Brahma is the Creator;
Vishnu, the Preserver; and Siva, the Destroyer. Siva was the god of
reproduction, however, as well as the god who destroys, and his worship
has been often connected with obscene and lascivious rites.

The approach to Siva's temple is through a lovely garden, in which are
many splendid specimens of tropical vegetation. At last there appears to
the visitor, in the side of the precipitous hill, a massive portico,
with four immense pillars, all hewn out of the solid rock. Then come
long rows of similar columns leading darkly like a cathedral nave into
the stony hill, and terminating at the altar, above which towers the
statue of Siva, colossal in size, with Parvati, his goddess wife, by his
side, and all the emblems of his authority, as scepter and sword, around
him. The statue seems to express the joy of sovereignty, and, though
somewhat mutilated, it is noticeably free from the immoral suggestions
which have been intimated in many descriptions of it. Entrance to the
statue is flanked by great guardian statues, and the whole chancel, so
to speak, is enclosed by a broad and lofty corridor, in the manner of
cathedral architecture. From this corridor on either side, many nooks in
the rock have been excavat