ond the Temple of Kali is the burning ghat of Calcutta.
Here the Hindus bring the bodies of their dead and burn them on
funeral pyres. The cremations may be witnessed every morning
by anyone who cares to take the trouble to drive out there. They
take place in an open area surrounded by temples and shrines
on one side, and large piles of firewood and the palm cottages
of the attendants on the other. The river which flows by the
burning ground is covered with all kinds of native craft, carrying
on commerce between the city and the country, and the ashes of
the dead are cast between them upon the sacred waters from a
flight of stone steps which leads to the river's brink. There is
no more objection to a stranger attending the burning ceremonies
than would be offered to his presence at a funeral in the United
States. Indeed, friends who frequently accompany the bodies of
the dead feel flattered at the attention and often take bunches
of flowers from the bier and present them to bystanders.

The Black Hole of Calcutta, of which you have read so much, no
longer exists. Its former site is now partially built over, but
Lord Curzon has had it marked, and that portion which is now
uncovered he has had paved with marble, so that a visitor can see
just how large an area was occupied by it. He has also reproduced
after the original plan a monument that was erected to the dead by
Governor J. Z. Howell, one of the sufferers. You will remember
that the employes of the East India Company, with their families,
were residing within the walls of Fort William when an uprising
of the natives occurred June 20, 1756. The survivors, 156 in
number, were made prisoners and pressed into an apartment eighteen
feet long, eighteen feet wide and fourteen feet ten inches high,
where they were kept over night. It was a sort of vault in the
walls of the fortress, which had been used for storage purposes
and at one time for a prison. The company consisted of men, women,
children and even infants. Several of them were crushed to death
and trampled during the efforts of the native soldiers to crowd
them into this place, and all but thirty-three of the 156 died
of suffocation. The next morning, when the leader of the mutiny
ordered the living prisoners brought before him, the bodies of
the dead were cast into a pit outside the walls and allowed to
rot there. The monument to which I have alluded stands upon the
site of the pit. To preserve history Lord Curz