This is the Hyde Park of the East, where, though less of splendour than in its great prototype, there was far more variety to be seen. There came the Governor-General, the viceroy of British India, open barouche and four (all dignity and gracious bows); cocked hats and feathers flying; black body-guard before and behind, in a long trot; sabres flashing, and scabbards rattling. Near, by way of antithesis, might be seen a palankeen carriage “creepy crawley,” drawn by two enormous bullocks, with monstrous dewlaps, bearing some fat old Portuguese lady, black as Erebus or Nox, to take the air, driver working hard to rouse them to a transient hobble. There, four or five abreast, rode sundry dashing young officers, displaying themselves and their uniforms to the best advantage, “pride in their port, defiance in their eyes;” whilst near, in some open landau or barouche, the “cynosure of neighbouring eyes,” would appear the newly-arrived beauty, the belle of the season, her English roses contrasting with the reigning _pallor_ around, wearing a look of conscious power, and exhibiting herself to the admiring gaze of the gossiping world. Happy creature! all is _couleur de rose_ with you! No thoughts of the future disturb the self-satisfied emotions of thy exulting bosom! And who is he beside her—the handsome young aide-de-camp? With easy bend he leans gracefully towards the carriage, and checks his fiery Arab. Mark how he rattles, and says his agreeable things, with all the airs of a conscious “eligible,” whilst the gratified vanity of the woman sparkles in her eyes and glows in her animated countenance. Here comes an intruder, bound for a distant bazaar—jingle, jingle, jingle! What a contrast! a native ruth or bylie, bullocks in a long trot, a pretty black damsel, With rings on her fingers, And bells on her toes— she of childhood’s song to a nicety—peeping from behind the blinds. “Ah! turn not away those sweet eyes!” Egad, she’s off—driver twisting the tails and goading the quarters of his cattle to “keep up the steam.” There whirl past in tilbury or tandem a brace of recently-arrived writers, regular Meltonians, doing the thing _secundum artem_, and determined to astonish the crowd. How knowingly, his person obliqued-quarter front, does the driver sit! With what gentlemanly _abandon_ does the drivee loll back in the vehicle! These are high-spirited fellows, who drink their claret, and have never known a care, and “d——n every thing that is low!” See, with _andante_ movement now advances the ponderous chariot of the great Baboo Maha Raja Spooney Persaud Mullik, the great milch-cow of the lawyers, and who gives his lac at a time from the genuine impulses of a _native_ benevolence; turbaned coachman; Baboo within, wrapped in cashmeres, fat, yellow, and bolt upright as the effigy on a tombstone.