Locomotion-barring the carriage and post-horses aforesaid-is món.
strously annoying in the best form; but as it is not given to mortals to
transport themselves without auxiliary aid, and as every spot on the
fair earth is worth visiting, commend me to THE INDIAN DAWK. You
are your own master; your palankeen is at once your arm-chair by
day and your bed by night; your dressing-table, your kitchen, your
library, are all compactly stowed before you. Your patient bearers
stop when it pleaseth you, and where it pleaseth you. Here you feast
your eyes upon a magnificent landscape, in which silvery rivers rush
through luxuriant jungles, and lofty mountains, covered with rich
foliage, invite you to add to the wealth of your portfolio ; there you are
arrested by the picturesque remains of some antique temple, the half-
effaced inscriptions on whose mural adornments excite your curiosity
and perplex your learning. Now you descend from your palankeen to
sniff the morning air, and catch from the wild cry of the partridge, the
carol of the lark, and the crow of the jungle-cock, the pleasant infec-
tion of exhilarated spirits-and anon you are reclining on your port
able couch, carried, in imagination, by an agreeable novel, to the land
of the loved West, until the subdued pace of your porteurs apprizes you
that you are reaching one of the comfortable little bungalows or asy-
lums for travellers where attentive domestics supply you with a bath
and a breakfast, and you stretch your limbs preparatory to another
stage. I have tried every description of locomotion, the 1,200 ton
steamer, the 1,500 ton Indiaman, the Leith smack, the barque, the
brig, the buggalah, the canoe, the elephant, the camel, the horse, the
mule, the donkey, the rail-train, the mail, post-coaches, post-chaises,
the diligence, the omnibus, the eil-waggon, the vetturino, the gig, the
kadjava (or pannier), the sledge, the-all, in short, excepting the
ostrich and the balloon; and THE DAWK still stands A. 1. in my register
of their respective virtues and recommendations. The feeling born in
1820 exists in all its original force in 1844.

A night and the better part of the following day brought me to my destination, and after a few hours' repose I waited on Capt. Jameson, and was duly installed in office.

Poonah was a very gay and cheerful cantonment at this time, although it had not reached the completeness and architectural consequence it now boasts. The Peishwa had been but recently deposedthe division was scarcely upon the peace establishment-in fact, notwithstanding the labours of Mr. Chaplin, the commissioner, we were far from feeling settled in the new possession. This, however, did not render the occupants of the cantonment less happy, for sport and picnics were the order of the day. But the aspect of the place was altogether too strange and interesting to be spoken of at the end of a chapter. It must be reserved until I again meet the reader.

THE FRIENDS TILL DEATH.

TRANSLATED FROM THE CHINESE.

THE tale which follows this prefatory notice is translated from the Kin-koo-ke-kwan, which contains a series of novels, some of which have been translated by Abel-Rémusat, M. Stanislas Julien, M. Theodore Pavie, and Mr. Thom. The present is found in the 12th keuen, or section, and is headed, "The grief of Yang-keo makes him lay down his life in order to perfect his friendship." The story is prefaced by a notice of two other friends, Paou and Shuh, the Chinese Pylades and Orestes. The present, or a similar tale, is very concisely alluded to by Gonçalvez, in his Arte China, p. 585, No. 188; and a translation, not so complete as the present, was introduced by Professor Kidd into the catalogue of Mr. Dunn's Chinese Collection. The one here given was, however, made long before it, and is here given in its integrity. With respect to the personages of the tale: Paou and Shŭh, two ministers of the Tse dynasty, are mentioned by Gonçalvez, as well as the hero, King-ko; but the fullest account of this personage is to be found in Gutzlaff's Sketch of Chinese history. Fan-yu-ke, a celebrated general at the court of the Tsin dynasty, being unsuccessful, is persecuted by the renowned Che-hwang-te, and takes refuge at the court of Tan, prince of the state of Yen. King-ko, an artful personage, is employed to tell him that he will not long survive, and begs him to cut off his head, which King-ko proposes to take in a box, and offer to the emperor. While the emperor looks at it, the emissary proposes to stab him. Fan-yu-ke is delighted at the idea, and cuts his throat; King-ko proceeds with his head to the state of Tsin, and unsuccessfully attempts to assassinate Che-hwang-te. A full account of this transaction is given at the close of the historical novel, Chun-tsew-leekwo-che, "History of the Epoch of the Spring and Autumn, and of the constituted Kingdoms.' (16th keuen, 12th sect.)

"There was formerly, in the kingdom of Tse, one Kwan-chung, who bore the surname of E-wo, and one Paou-shŭh, also called Seuen-tsze, who from early youth, and in the midst of poverty, had sworn friendship. When Paou-shuh, in after-life, was advanced to office under Hwan-kungmun, in the state of Tse, he faithfully acted up to his oath, recommended and promoted Kwan-chung to be his chief minister, and placed him constantly above him. These two men administered public affairs in the greatest harmony, exactly as if they were one individual. Kwan-chung often said, with respect to his colleague, 'Although I had thrice contended, and had thrice fled, he knew I was no coward; aware that I had an aged mother, I had thrice been in office, and thrice dismissed, he did not deem me a degenerate son; finding that I did not fall in with the times, but discussed with him, he was aware I was no fool; feeling that, whether I had gain or not, I constantly shared and gave much of what I had to him, he knew I was not avaricious. He was acquainted with my poverty; those who produced are my

parents; but he who knows me is Paou-shuh.' On this account, both
in past and present times, he who hears of a truly heart-knit friend-
ship infallibly calls it Kwan and Paou; and to this day there is a story
of two friends, who, meeting by accident, formed an alliance as brethren,
each laying down his life for the other, and leaving a lasting reputation.*
"In the period of the spring and autumn, when Yuen-wang, of the
kingdom of Tsoo, treated with consideration the followers of Confucius
and of Laou-sze, invited the enlightened and employed scholars, the news
attracted to him those who were unwilling to let slip the opportunity of
enjoying patronage. There was, in the Tseih-shih hills of Se-keang, a
virtuous scholar,† named Tso, whose appellation was Pih-taou. Early
in life he lost both his parents. He gave his whole attention to study,
cultivating political philosophy. His years approached four lustres.
At that time, the fiefs of the central kingdom had swallowed up each
other; the practisers of virtuous government were few; numberless
the usurpers who relied on their authority. As yet, Tso-pih-taou had
not come forth to seek for office, but when he heard of Yuen-wang, the
king of Tsoo, who, enamoured of virtue and admiring justice, had
made search for skilful doctors, he carried a sack of books, bade adieu
to his neighbours and friends in the village, hastened by by-roads
to the state of Tsoo, and arrived by easy stages at Yung-te. It hap-
pened then to be the winter period of the wind and rain. There is a
passage in the Se-keang-yue, which says of the wintry sky and the love-
liness of the rain,

The wind without intermission mournfully roaming cuts the face, and dripping down, the small rain bedews the garments; the intruding icicle and fermented snow swiftly urge on the power of the cold. Incomparable is that period's harmonious breath!

The indistinct colour of the hills, the sunlight constantly bedimmed, as the dew returning obscures heaven's bank. The roamer's spirits are exhausted at

his return; the traveller in like manner regrets that he has started.

"Tso-pih-taou proceeded along, buffeting with the wind and rain. One day, his clothes drenched with rain, he beheld the daylight waning, and approached a village, desirous of begging shelter for the night. From a distance he perceived, in a wood of bamboos, a broken window, from which streamed the light of a lamp. He hastened in the direction, and beheld a short hedge, which encircled a little thatched hut, and pushing through the hedge, gently knocked at a wicket. A person inside opened the door and came out. Tso-pih-taou, standing under the eaves of the house, hastily made a bow, and said, 'Your humble servant is a native of Se-keang, by name Tso-pih-taou, who, desirous of journeying to the kingdom of Tsoo, has unfortunately encountered the

• Friends, says the Che-tuh (vol. iv.), are also accounted one of the five relations of human life. When their intercourse is good, any injury afflicts them as brethren of the same mother; therefore, Kwan and Paou had the righteousness of sharing their money, &c.

↑ Literally, heen-sze, 'a virtuous doctor:' this term seems limited to civil officers.
Literally, "the talent of completely adjusting the age, and the means of arriving at tran-
quillizing the people."

rain in the middle of his road, and not meeting with an inn, entreats a night's lodging; to-morrow he will set forward: he does not yet know whether your honourable intention will grant it or not.' The person, upon hearing this, hastily interchanged compliments, and led him into the hut. Tso-pih-taou looked at it, and saw that there was only a couch, and upon the couch a heap of books-nothing else; he then knew that the owner was a literary man, and he desired to perform the ceremonies of bowing to him. The person said, 'Do not stand upon compliments; it is better to dry your garments;' and, suiting action to words, lit some bamboos for a fire, and Tso-pih-taou dried his garments. The person then prepared some wine and food, and offered it, treating him with the kindest attention. Tso-pih-taou inquired his name. The person answered, that he was called Yang-keo-gae; that he had early in life lost his parents, and dwelt there alone; that he was naturally very much addicted to learning; that his agricultural occupation had altogether ceased, and that his present good fortune was very great in meeting with a learned doctor coming from a distance; he only lamented the destitute condition of his house, and humbly entreated him to overlook it. At such a cloudy and rainy time,' returned Tsopih-taou, 'attaining the favour of your shelter, and, in addition, receiving food and drink,-how can I ever forget to thank you? That night the two laid down to rest, but conversed of their studies without reposing till the end of the evening, and did not fall asleep till next day's dawn. "The fall of rain had not stopped, and Yang-keo-gae detained Tso-pih-taou in his house, exhausted all that he had, waited upon him, and they mutually vowed to be elder and younger brothers. Tso-pihtaou was five years older than Yang-keo-gae, who offered him the respects of an elder brother.

"After he had stayed there three days, the rain ceased, and the roads became dry. My virtuous younger brother,' said Tso-pih-taou, 'possessing the talents of a wang-tso,* united with just thoughts, not exposing the fine silk of the bamboos, but loving the fountain of the old wood, is to be deeply deplored.' 'It is not,' replied the other, 'that I do not desire to accept office, but that I have not yet obtained the means. At present,' replied Tso-pih-taou, 'the king of Tsoo is emptying his heart to seek out scholars, and since my younger brother has this sentiment, why not go together?' 'I wish,' said the other, to obey my elder brother's command.' He then got ready a few things for their support on the road, rations and rice, and, leaving the rush hut, the two journeyed together southwards.

"They had not gone more than two days when they met with bad weather, and were obliged to put up at an inn, where they consumed a good deal of their supplies. They had at last only one packet of food remaining, and the two carrying it in turn, braved the weather and went on. The rain was incessant, and the wind blew hard. It changed Behold what it was like :one day for a heavy fall of snow.

A royal minister.

The winds grew strong, the snow was cold- the snow followed up the wind's power. In disorder, the silkiness of the willow was wildly agitated by the breeze. Flake after flake, the eider-down disorderedly spirted along. The whole welkin was a confused fall of snow, north, south, east, and west, covering the earth, inundating the heaven, entirely changing its blue and yellow to red and black. The tranquil feelings of the poetical wanderer who was examining the plum-tree were delightfully excited; the roadfarer desired to save himself.

"The two passed along to the southward, and in their course took the road across the Leang hills. On inquiring of some wood-cutters, they were told by them that the road from this spot for about a hundred le had no trace of human habitation, but led entirely across retired hills and large barren moors, infested by wolves and tigers; that the better course was not to attempt to go. Tso-pih-taou said, 'What does my virtuous brother think of it? Yang-keo-gae answered, 'It has been said from the olden time that life and death are predetermined, and having arrived here, we should only think of advancing, and not cherish any desire to return.' They again proceeded a day's journey, and at night lodged in some ancient sepulchres. Their clothes were but slight, and the cold wind penetrated to their bones. Next day, the snow fell still more heavily, and in the hills it was nearly a full cubit's depth. Tso-pihtaou could endure the cold no longer, and said, 'I think that, in this journey for a hundred le, deprived of human habitations, our supplies failing, our clothes insufficient, and food exhausted, if one went by himself he might arrive at Tsoo; but if both go, should we not be frozen to death, we shall be starved alive on the road; and what will be the use of dying with the trees and plants? Let me take the clothes which I have upon me, and, putting them off, give them to my virtuous younger brother to put on; he can then by himself use the supplies, and gain strength in the road to go on. After I have sent him on, I will not move, but prefer dying here, and wait till he sees the king of Tsoo; he must then get an important employment, and it will not be too late to come and bury me.' 'How can such a plan be executed? replied Yang-keo-gae. 'Although we two are not born of the same parents, the breath of integrity is greater than bones and flesh;* how could I bear to go alone and entreat promotion? He forthwith assisted Tso-pih-taou along.

"After they had proceeded ten le, Tso-pih-taou said, 'The wind and snow are still more urgent; how can I proceed? They then sought a resting-place at the road's side, and beheld a decayed mulberry-tree offering a slight shelter from the snow. One person could easily be sheltered under it. Yang-keo-gae assisted Tso-pih-taou to enter in and sit down; and Tso-pih-taou desired Yang-keo-gae to knock stones together, in order to procure a light, and set fire to some decayed wood, to protect them from the cold. Yang-keo-gae was employed in taking a little fire towards him, and had come back, when he beheld Tso-pihtaou naked; he had taken off all his clothes, and laid them down in a heap. Yang-keo-gae exclaimed, in astonishment, Why has my bro

This refers to their knitting the alliance of brethren; to keep it up was a higher duty than mere consanguinity; it means, the keeping of an oath is more important than blood.'

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