Having witnessed the _nāch_ and some of the ceremonies of the _Dūrga-pūjā_ festival, we now quit the illuminated area, and pass into the beautiful, the delicious moonlight of the East. Some Bengalī huts are beneath the trees; a _chaukīdar_, or native watchman, is standing before his hut, formed of straw and bamboo, on which his shield is hung; and a native beyond is cooking his evening meal. The soft moonlight falls upon the river, and upon its bank several Bengalī women are sending off little paper boats, each containing a lamp. With what earnestness they watch these little fire-fly boats, in which they have adventured their happiness, as they float down the stream! If at the moment the paper boat disappears in the distance the lamp is still burning, the wish of the votary will be crowned with success; but, if the lamp be extinguished, the hope for which the offering was made will be doomed to disappointment. With what eagerness does the mother watch the little light, to know if her child will or will not recover from sickness! At times, the river is covered with fleets of these little lamps, hurried along by the rapid stream. Even when it is not in honour of any particular festival, natives may be seen offering lamps to Ganga (the Ganges), the sacred river. A _pataīla_ (a country vessel), and two _oolāks_ are now in view; the natives always moor their vessels during the night, it being dangerous to proceed on the river during the hours of darkness. THE MURDA GHĀT. We now cross to the opposite side, the left bank of the Hoogly, to a _murda ghāt_, a spot where the funeral rites of the Hindūs are performed. The nearest relative, as is the custom, is stirring up the body, and pushing it into the flames with a long pole; much oil and _ghī_ (clarified butter) is poured over the wood, to make it burn fiercely: in all probability the son of the deceased is performing the ceremony. We read of the Romans burning their dead, regard it in a classical light, and think of it without disgust; but when we see the ceremony really performed, it is very painful: nevertheless, a sort of absurdity is mixed with it in the mind, as “Stir him up with the long pole” flashes across the memory. On the conclusion of the ceremony, the relatives bathe and return to their homes. The _charpāī_, or native bed, on which the corpse is carried down to the river side, being reckoned unclean, is generally thrown into the stream, or left on the bank. If a large quantity of wood and _ghī_ be consumed, we may imagine the deceased to have been a rich man; the relatives of the very poor scarcely do more than scorch the body, and throw it into the river, where it floats swollen and scorched—a horrible sight. The burning of the body is one of the first ceremonies the Hindūs perform for the help of the dead in a future state. If this ceremony have not been attended to, the rites for the repose of the soul cannot be performed.