in England. Nor as a rule do these processions excite
much interest, except amongst those who are actually taking part in
them, and even their interest is often languid.

The chief processions are in connection with marriages, and rich men
spend a great deal of money on that part of the ceremonial. Bands, and
horses, and carriages, and bands of artificial flowers borne on the
heads of women, and surrounding the bridegroom as he rides on
horseback, large fans of peacocks' feathers waving round him to keep off
evil influences and imaginary flies, torches at night, now supplanted by
modern incandescent lamps carried on men's heads, displays of fireworks,
and the exploding of harmless bombs--processions such as these abound in
Indian towns, and in a simpler form in villages, at seasons which have
been declared propitious for weddings. Some of these cavalcades are
attended by a multitude of people whose chief concern in the matter
probably centres in the feast which is to follow.

But even the most magnificent procession hardly excites the faintest
curiosity amongst the people of the streets along which it passes. The
shopkeeper does not rise from the pillows on the floor of his little
shop on which he is dozing; the brass-worker or silversmith will
scarcely lift up his eyes from his work; the women will hardly come
even to their house-door to look; the little boys busy playing marbles
down some side street are too much absorbed in their game to run and
see the show. This is a curious contrast to the rapidity with which a
crowd will gather on the smallest provocation in a European city. Even
a hearse, standing at a house-door in England, will draw a very
respectable crowd, merely in order to see the door open and the coffin
brought out. A funeral procession in India is of much greater possible
interest, because most Hindus are carried to the place of burning, or
burial, as the case may be, on a flat bamboo litter with the face
visible, so that you have the opportunity of recognising, or not, the
face of a friend in the passing corpse. Yet few use the opportunity,
and the sight does not appear to excite the slightest curiosity.
Nobody bestows any tokens of respect on the funeral procession, and
scarcely anybody gives it even a passing glance. This does not
apparently arise from superstitious shrinking from the sight of a
corpse.

Military display does not impress the ordinary Indian. When a governor
drives in state to hol