st, and of other climes.

He spoke of Hurdwar, a far distant mission in the north of India, close
to the Himalayas. The Hindoos call it the "City of a Thousand Palaces;"
they say it was built by the genii on the very spot where Vishnu had
reposed himself for a few weeks, after one of his mystic transmutations,
in which he had conquered Siva, or Sahavedra, the spirit of evil.
Though not so well known, Hurdwar is a place still more sacred than
Benares; people assemble there once a year from all parts, and
consecrate several days to their ablutions in the purifying waters of
the Ganges. In this noble city is also held one of the greatest fairs
of India, indeed of all the world; and as its time is fixed upon the
same month as that in which the Hindoo devotees arrive at the city,
numerous caravans from Persia, Arabia, Cashmere, and Lahore repair to
the spot, and erect their bazaars along the banks of the river, forming
a street of many miles. The concourse collected at these times has been
ascertained to number more than one million of souls.

There the Padre Marini had remained as a missionary for some years, all
alone. His flock of converts was but a small one; he had little to do,
and yet his mind could not be arrested by the study of all the wonders
around him; his heart was sad; for years he had had a sorrow which
weighed heavily upon him, and he was wretched. Before he had embraced
the solitude of a monastic life, he had with him a younger brother, of
whom he was very fond. The young man was a student in medicine, with
fair capacity and an energy which promised to advance him in his
profession. When Marini entered the convent, his brother went to
Turkey, where men of his profession were always certain of a good
reception, and for a long time was never heard of. At last, when the
missionary was ready to start for a distant mission, he learned that
which proved so destructive to his peace of mind. From Constantinople,
his brother had gone to Persia, where he was residing in easy
circumstances; but, ambitious of advancement, he had abjured the faith
of his fathers and become a follower of Mahommed.

It was a melancholy intelligence, and many were the tears of the good
monk. The first year of his arrival at Hurdwar, he met with a Jewish
merchant who had accompanied a Persian caravan. That man knew his
brother, the renegade, and informed the Padre that his brother had
fallen into disgrace, and as a punishment o