I know the language as well as I know my own, and that I am lean
enough and brown enough to make it no easy matter to detect my European
origin--and you will understand that I passed muster with the people
readily: not as one of themselves, but as a stranger from a distant part
of their own country.

On the second day, the number of Hindoos travelling in my direction
had increased to fifties and hundreds. On the third day, the throng had
swollen to thousands; all slowly converging to one point--the city of
Somnauth.

A trifling service which I was able to render to one of my
fellow-pilgrims, during the third day's journey, proved the means of
introducing me to certain Hindoos of the higher caste. From these men I
learnt that the multitude was on its way to a great religious ceremony,
which was to take place on a hill at a little distance from Somnauth.
The ceremony was in honour of the god of the Moon; and it was to be held
at night.

The crowd detained us as we drew near to the place of celebration. By
the time we reached the hill the moon was high in the heaven. My Hindoo
friends possessed some special privileges which enabled them to gain
access to the shrine. They kindly allowed me to accompany them. When
we arrived at the place, we found the shrine hidden from our view by
a curtain hung between two magnificent trees. Beneath the trees a flat
projection of rock jutted out, and formed a species of natural platform.
Below this, I stood, in company with my Hindoo friends.

Looking back down the hill, the view presented the grandest spectacle of
Nature and Man, in combination, that I have ever seen. The lower slopes
of the eminence melted imperceptibly into a grassy plain, the place of
the meeting of three rivers. On one side, the graceful winding of the
waters stretched away, now visible, now hidden by trees, as far as the
eye could see. On the other, the waveless ocean slept in the calm of
the night. People this lovely scene with tens of thousands of human
creatures, all dressed in white, stretching down the sides of the hill,
overflowing into the plain, and fringing the nearer banks of the winding
rivers. Light this halt of the pilgrims by the wild red flames of
cressets and torches, streaming up at intervals from every part of
the innumerable throng. Imagine the moonlight of the East, pouring in
unclouded glory over all--and you will form some idea of the view that
met me when I looked forth from the summit of