The scene now before you represents a _Satī_, the burning of a Hindū widow with the corpse of her husband. The event here represented took place on the 7th November, 1828, near Raj ghāt, under the Mahratta _bund_ (an embankment raised to prevent the encroachment of the Ganges). The woman was the wife of a rich _buniyā_ (a corn-chandler), and she determined to burn on his funeral-pile. The magistrate sent for her, used every argument to dissuade her, and offered her money. Her only answer was, dashing her head against the floor, and saying, “If you will not let me burn with my husband, I will hang myself in your court of justice.” If a widow touch either food or water from the time her husband expires until she ascend the pile, she cannot, by Hindū law, be burned with the body; therefore the magistrate kept the corpse _forty-eight_ hours, in the hope that hunger would compel the woman to eat. Guards were set over her; but she never touched any thing. A procession of people accompanied the widow from her dwelling to the river-side; she walked in the midst, dressed in a red garment, and the corpse, placed on a charpaī, fixed on long bamboos, was carried on men’s shoulders. About 5000 people were collected together on the banks of the Ganges: the pile was built, and the putrid body placed upon it. After having bathed in the river, the widow lighted a brand, walked round the pile, set it on fire, and then mounted cheerfully: the flame caught and blazed up instantly; she sat down, placing the head of the corpse on her lap, and repeated several times the usual form, “_Ram, Ram, sātī; Ram, Ram, sātī_;” _i.e._ “God, God, I am chaste.” As the wind drove the fierce fire upon her, she shook her arms and limbs as if in agony; at length she started up, and approached the side to escape. An Hindū—one of the police who had been placed near the pile to see that she had fair play, and should not be burned by force—raised his sword to strike her, and the poor wretch shrank back into the flames. The magistrate seized and committed him to prison. The woman again approached the side of the blazing pile, sprang fairly out, and ran into the Ganges, which was within a few yards. When the crowd and the brothers of the dead man saw this, they called out, “Cut her down! knock her on the head with a bamboo! tie her hands and feet, and throw her in again!” They rushed down to execute their murderous intentions, when some English gentlemen and the police drove them back. The woman drank some water, and having extinguished the fire on her red garment, said she would mount the pile again and be burned. The magistrate placed his hand upon her shoulder (which rendered her impure), and said, “By your own law, having once quitted the pile, you cannot ascend again; I forbid it.” He sent her in a palanquin, under a guard, to the hospital. The crowd made way, shrinking from her with signs of horror, but returned peacefully to their homes; the Hindūs annoyed at her escape, the