e before remarked, these scattered houses impart an
air of rural enjoyment to the island, yet their being spread over
its whole surface prevents Bombay from appearing to be so important a
place as it is in reality. There is nothing approaching to the idea
of a city to be seen, nothing solid or substantial to indicate
the presence of wealth or of extensive commerce. Calcutta, on the
contrary, offers to the stranger's eye an aspect so striking and
imposing, brings so strongly to the mind the notion that its merchants
are princes, and that it ranks crowned heads amongst its vassals and
its tributaries, that we see at once that it must be the seat of a
powerful and permanently established government. Nor does it seem
possible, even in the event of Bombay taking the ascendance as the
capital of British India, that the proud City of Palaces shall upon
that account dwindle and sink into decay. Stranger things, and even
more melancholy destinies, have befallen the mighty Babylons of the
earth; but with all its faults of situation and of climate, I should
at least, for one, regret the fate that would render the glories of
a city so distinct in its character, and so proudly vying with the
capitals of Europe, a tale of the past. A new direction in the course
of the Ganges may reduce it to a swamp, and its palaces and pleasant
places may be left to desolate creatures, but it will never be
rivalled by any modern creation. The days of Anglo-Indian magnificence
are gone by, and though we may hope for all that is conveyed by the
words _comfort_ and _prosperity_, splendour will no longer form a
feature in the scene.

The climate of Bombay is said to be superior in point of salubrity to
that of Bengal; what is termed the cold season, however, can
scarcely merit the name, there being nothing like the bracing weather
experienced at the same period of the year in the neighbouring
presidency. One peculiarity of Bombay consists in the wind blowing hot
and cold at the same time, so that persons who are liable to rheumatic
pains are obliged to wrap themselves up much more warmly than is
agreeable. While enduring a very uncomfortable degree of heat, a puff
of wind from the land or the sea will produce a sudden revulsion, and
in these alternations the whole day will pass away, while at night
they become still more dangerous. It is said that the hot season
is not so hot as in Bengal, and the absence of punkahs in the
drawing-rooms and bed-chamber