y Europeans, who
dreaded the effect of his action. He carried a law through the council,
making it punishable homicide, or manslaughter, to burn a widow. In 1823
there were five hundred and seventy-five of them burned in the Bengal
Presidency; but after the enactment of the law, the number began to
decrease. The treaties with the Indian princes contained a clause
forbidding it. The custom is really discontinued, though an occasional
instance of it comes to light."

The dancing had been renewed, and this conversation continued till later.
At this wedding Lord Tremlyn met a gentleman whom he introduced to some of
his party as Sahib Govind. This gentleman had just invited him to visit a
theatrical performance at a private house, such as a European can very
rarely witness.

"I never went to a theatre in my life!" protested Mrs. Belgrave.

"But this is a representation in connection with the religious traditions
of the Hindus," argued his lordship.

It was decided to go, the scruples of the Methodists being overcome by the
fact that it was a religious occasion, and not at all like the stage
performances of New York. The carriages conveyed them to the house
indicated by Sahib Govind, and they were conducted to a hall, at one end of
which was a stage, with a thin calico curtain in front of it. The
performance was just beginning.

A Brahmin came out in front of the curtain, with some musicians, and set up
an image of Ganesa, the god of wisdom; then he prayed this idol to
enlighten the minds of the actors, and enable them to perform their parts
well, which was certainly very untheatrical, the Americans thought, when
Sir Modava had translated the substance of the invocation. The Brahmin then
announced that the subject of the play was the loves of the god Krishna.

"Who is the hero of the piece, Sir Modava?" asked Mr. Woolridge, who was a
theatre-goer at home.

"He is really Vishnu, one of the Hindu trinity, known as the preserver.
Vishnu has a considerable number of forms, or incarnations, one of which is
Krishna, the most human of them all."

The curtain rose, and cut short the explanation. The scene, painted on
canvas, was an Indian temple. A figure with an enormous wig, his half-naked
body daubed all over with yellow paint, was seated before it, abstracted in
the deepest meditation. The interpreter told them it was Rishi, a
supernatural power, a genius who is a protector to those who need his
services. Then a crowd of