THE JAIL AT BOMBAY. 
291 
should set in. I did not, however, see much worth 
recording. Beyond the city within the fort, and the 
fort itself, there is little to engage a traveller’s at- 
tention. The black town is large and populous, but 
the streets are narrow, the houses low, mean, and 
filthy ; in short, its whole aspect excites impressions 
of great wretchedness and destitution among the larger 
proportion of its population, though this is really not 
the case : for there is a good deal of wealth, even 
amongst those whose dwellings present to the eye not 
only the absence of all comfort but the presence of 
much actual privation. The monotonous features 
which this town exhibits are somewhat relieved by 
a few European buildings, there being several Portu- 
guese chapels and one or two Armenian churches. 
The most conspicuous edifice is the jail. Here 
I saw a culprit condemned to death for murder. 
The man’s aspect was sullen and ferocious. He 
was confined in a small cell, which opened into 
a narrow court, where he was allowed to walk 
by day, being locked up at night. He was eating 
his rice with an appetite and apparent relish that 
rather surprised me, hearing he was to be executed 
the following morning. I did not interrupt his 
meal, which he despatched with amazing promp- 
titude. I then entered into conversation with him 
upon the nature of his crime, and endeavoured to 
ascertain his ideas of a state of future retribution. 
He was very morose, and unwilling to give any 
explanation of his feelings. When I urged him, 
he said, looking at me with a grim smile, “ Can 
you furnish me with anything that will remove the 
