A1r [Gap in transcription—omitted1 line]

Translation
of the
Letters
of a
Hindoo Rajah.

[Gap in transcription—omittedlibrary stamp]

Vol. II.

A A1v [Gap in transcription—1 pageflawed-reproduction] A2r

Translation
of the
Letters
of a
Hindoo Rajah.

Written
Previous to, and During the Period of His
Residence in England.

To Which is Prefixed a
Preliminary Dissertation
on the
History, Religion, and Manners,
of the
Hindoos.

In Two Volumes.

By Eliza Hamilton.

Vol. II.

London:
Printed for G. G. and J. Robinson, No. 25.
Pater-Noster-Row
.
17961796.

A2v [Gap in transcription—1 pageflawed-reproduction] B1r

Letters
Of A
Hindoo Rajah.

Letter XI.

From the Rajah Zaārmilla, to
Māāndāāra.

Praise to Varuna! under the guidance
of whose potent arm, behold thy
friend, surrounded by the billows of the
mighty ocean.

The most sublime objects alone present
themselves to my view. Above is the
azure canopy of Heaven, in which “the Vol. II. B “gold- B1v 2
gold-crowned Sultan of the firmament,
advances the standard of his brightness;”
and without rival or competitor,
enjoys the solitary grandeur of imperial
state. Below is the boundless expanse
of waters, the congregated waves of
which, like the chiefs of some great republic,
alternately rise into the majesty
of power, and retire into the peace of
obscurity.

From the benevolence and friendship
of captain Grey, I received every assistance
in preparing for my voyage, and
procured every necessary that could tend
to its comfort. I have also from him
Letters of introduction to his friends,
with a sketch of the character of each,
so that I shall have the advantage of a
sort of pre-acquaintance in a land of
strangers. From Morton, I have received
letters for his mother, and sisters,
accompanied by some valuable presents, which B2r 3
which the generous hand of Grey, enabled
him to procure for them.

This young man has made a rapid
progress in my esteem: his mind seems
formed for the residence of virtue, nor
is there any reason to apprehend that the
head-strong passions of youth will ever
be able to drive her from her feat.

I have not forgotten the sister of my
friend, the long lamented Percy. For
her I have made a selection of whatever
I thought could be acceptable: and the
idea of presenting it in person, affords
great delight to my mind.—Jeo-doss,
to whom, as well as to my other servants,
I gave the liberty of returning to Kuttaher,
so earnestly entreated for leave to
accompany me, that I consented; and
also at their own desire have kept two
more of my own people, all of whose
services I find very useful to me in this B2 floating B2v 4
floating castle; where, in spite of every
precaution, I confess, many things occur,
disgusting to delicacy, and abhorent to
the nice feelings of propriety.

I was accompanied to the ship by
Grey, Morton, and some other friends,
who have distinguished themselves by
their particular kindness to me. Even
Cooper, wild and eccentric as he is,
would not suffer me to depart without
some token of his kindness. He brought
me a cap lined with the finest fur, which
he told me would be of service in the
cold climate I was about to encounter.

The pang of regret penetrated my
heart, when I bade the last farewell to
these amiable friends; but when the ship
was put in motion, and I saw those blest
shores, “the favoured seats of the Gods
of India,”
recede from my sight, my
heart grew faint within me, and all my philosophy B3r 5
philosophy was insufficient to re-invigorate
my sinking courage.

Sickness in a short time took from me
the power of thinking. I have suffered
under it so severely, that I have hitherto
been unable to enjoy the society of my
fellow passengers, the female part of whom
are still confined to their apartments, by
the cruel effects of this sea nausea, the
most intolerable of all diseases! Upon the
quarter-deck, I have met the husband
of one of these ladies, who was – – – –
of – – –, in which station he acquired a
fortune, which though not the tenth of
the sum that a Mussulman Dewan would
have acquired, will, I am told, be sufficient
to give him distinction in his own country.
The Commander of the ship, though
among his men he appears like a lion
of the forest, is to his passengers gentle
as the deer of the mountain. I have
already been much indebted to his politenessB3 ness B3v 6
and civility. I have the same acknowledgment
to make to the Surgeon,
a young man, whose quick, and penetrating
eye gives the promise of genius, and
discernment.

Time, that great Physician, having in
some degree reconciled our stomachs to
the motion of the vessel, I have had the
pleasure of being introduced to the fair
companions of our voyage; who are
three in number.

The first, is the wife of the Dewan; her
features are regular, but so insipid, that I
should not fail to pronounce her equally
void of sense and feeling, was it not for
the unlimited affection she evinces towards
the animal creation, which she carries
to as exalted a height as any Hermit of B4r 7
of Cummow. Surrounded by Parrots,
Lorys, Maccaws, small Dogs, Persian
Cats, and Monkeys of every description,
she seems attracted towards them by a mysterious
sympathy; while if her languid
eyes are cast towards any of the company, it
is only to express the language of disdain.

Notwithstanding my admiration of this
amiable protectress of the brute creation,
I cannot help feeling a superiour degree
of pleasure, in contemplating the unaffected
charms, and unassuming loveliness of
a young widow; the beauty of whose
countenance is shaded, though not concealed,
by the veil of sorrow. Whilst
bestowing on her fatherless babes the sost
caresses of maternal tenderness, I have observed
the tear which glistened on the silken
fringe of her fine black eyes, mingled
with the smiles of tender complacency.

Betwixt this Lady and her husband, at
an early period of life, a mutual attachmentB4 ment B4v 8
had taken place. Prudence could
not at that time sanction their union: for
in a country where luxury has fixed her
residence, it becomes difficult to procure
the necessaries of existence, and without
these, how would a man answer the calls
of an infant family? The affection of
these lovers, at length, triumphed over
every difficulty: the gentleman went
to India, where, in process of time, he
was promoted to the – – – – – of – – –
and no sooner found himself in a situation
to support a family, than he claimed
the promise of his betrothed bride, who,
throwing aside the timidity of her sex,
and unprotected, save by the modest dignity
of virtue, nobly braved the inconveniencies
and hazards of an Indian
voyage. She was received with transport
by her anxiously expecting lover, whose
happiness was completed by their immediate
union. Their’s was not that
transient glow of joy, which, like the crimson-tinted
cloud of morning, vanishes 3 while B5r 9
while gazed on; it was permanent as
pure. Each met in each the enlightened
companion, the wise adviser, the
faithful friend. But, alas! while fondly
looking forward to a long period of felicity,
the stroke of death, suddenly destroyed
the fair, but fallacious prospect.
You will, perhaps, think but indifferently
of her, who in such circumstances, would
persevere in preserving life:—But it is the
custom of her nation! And she perhaps
imagines, that she may as effectually
evince her regard to the memory of
her husband, by devoting herself to the
care and education of his children, as if
she had mingled her ashes with his.

Three fine boys look up to her for
protection, and already begin to benefit
by her instructions. Their innocent vivacity,
though a source of amusement
to most of the party, is a great annoyance
to the monkey-loving Bibby, who declares, B5v 10
declares, that “of all the odious torments
of a long voyage, that of being
teized with the noise of children is the
worst.”
At the sound of her voice, the
dissonant screams of her feathered favourites,
seem to ratify the declaration of
their fair benefactress; whilst the young
and lively neice of the Dewan, casts towards
the many-coloured objects of
her aunt’s affection, such an expressive
glance, as seems to say, they are almost
as bad.

Of this young lady I can say little, but
that she appears gay, and good humoured.
The Surgeon, indeed, from whom I have
all my information respecting my fellow
voyagers, tells me, that she had been
brought to India by her uncle, in order
to be married to the gentleman, who was
to succeed him in his appointment; but,
that on the voyage from Europe, a mutual
affection had taken place between her, B6r 11
her, and a young votary of Lackshmee,Fortune.
who must obtain the smiles of the Goddess,
before he can procure the hand of
his mistress. Her uncle, in the mean
while, insists on her return to Europe;
and from the hilarity of her countenance,
I should not suppose the disappointment
to have entered deeply into her heart.

A sad bustle has just taken place.
One of the little boys having been allured
into the great cabbin, by the comical
tricks of a Marmoret, was attacked by a
huge Baboon, one of the fiercest animals
in Mrs. ––––’s collection. His cries
soon gave the alarm; every one flew to
the place from whence they issued. No
description can give any idea of the confused
scene which followed. The voice of B6v 12
of the sufferer, was soon lost in universal
uproar. The screams of the ladies, the
chattering of the monkeys, the barking
of the dogs, to say nothing of the squalling
of the parrots and maccaws, made
altogether such a noise, that the thunder
of the contending elements could scarcely
have been heard in it. When peace was
at length restored, and the little boy,
whose leg was sadly torn, had been committed
to the care of the surgeon, the
Dewan ventured to remonstrate with his
fair partner, on the numbers, and bad behaviour
of her favourites. It was a tender
point; the very mention of it, though
managed with the utmost gentleness,
threw her into a paroxysm of anger,
which at length terminated in a flood of
tears. In truth, there appeared to me in
these tears, so much more of passion than
of tenderness, that I could not regard
them, as any ornament to the cheek of
beauty! Perhaps you may blame my insensibility,sensibility, B7r 13
and bestow more unbounded
admiration on this benevolent woman,
who generously prefers the welfare and
happiness of her tailed, and feathered
favourites, to the peace and comfort of
her husband; and whose heart expands,
with more lively affection, for the meanest
quadruped in her possession, than for
the orphan child of any friend on earth.

Intelligence is just brought me of our
having cast anchor in the road of Madrass.
—I will from thence send you this letter.
May it find you in the possession of the
best blessings of life, health, and tranquillity!
What can I say more?

Letter B7v 14

Letter XII.

The day after I concluded my epistle
from Madrass,Which letter does not appear—and is supposed
by the Editor to have been lost.
we returned on board
our ship, and the morning following
weighed anchor, and proceeded on our
voyage, in company with many floating
fortresses of superior size, sent by the
king of England to protect the fleet of
the Company. The gentleman who I
mentioned to you in my last, proves indeed
a valuable acquisition to our society.
He, alas! returns to his country, not loaded
with the riches of India, but possessing in
his mind a treasure, more desirable than
any wealth can purchase. It is from the
sneer of worthless prosperity, from the contumely B8r 15
contumely of successful pride, that Mr.
Delomond
goes to hide his misfortunes
in the oblivious shade of retirement.
“When the frowns of fortune are excessive,
and human endeavours are exerted
in vain, where but in the wilderness
can comfort be found for a man of
sensibility?”
Such an one is Delomond;
unable to struggle with the tempestuous
gales of adverse fortune, he declines the
contest. The pride of talents, and the
consciousness of rectitude, may, he thinks,
support him in his solitude; though he
has found, from his experience, that they
are often an obstacle to advancement in the
the world: the path that leads to fortune,
too often passing through the narrow
defiles of meanness, which a man of an
exalted spirit cannot stoop to tread.

The manly elegance with which Nature
has endowed this Saib, together
with an air of dignity which marks his B8v 16
his whole deportment, commands the
admiration of the whole party; even the
lady of the Dewan, relaxing from the
haughty languor of her usual manner,
condescends to address him with the utmost
civility: and though her mistake
as to his being a man of fortune, which
from his appearance she had naturally
concluded him to be, was soon rectified,
she could not divest herself of the respectful
deference which his manifest superiority
so justly claims. She sometimes,
indeed, when he is not present, wonders
what people of no fortune mean, by assuming
the airs of quality?

In the conversation of Delomond and
the beautiful widow, I have spent many
delightful hours. The first possesses a
rich mine of knowledge, from which I
expect pure and genuine information. The
latter is not less sensible, almost equally
well informed, more lively in her ideas, at C1r 17
and more quick in her discernment; but,
at the same time, so modest, and unassuming
is this lovely woman, that I am
sometimes at a loss which to admire
most—the perfection of her understanding,
or her unconsciousness of its superiority.

The indisposition of these two intelligent
companions, has for some days past
deprived me of their society; and I
should have been at a great loss how to
dispose of myself, had it not been for the
goodness of the neice of the Dewan, who
from her own library supplied me, with a
fund of instruction and amusement.

This young lady I have lately discovered
to be a great lover of books; of which
she has by far the most numerous collection
of any person on board. But it is not
surprising, that I should never have suspected
her taste for literature. No one Vol. II. C could C1v 18
could possibly find it out from her conversation,
which always turns upon the most trifling
subjects. Notwithstanding the knowledge
she must doubtless have acquired
from the number of books she has read,
she is so modest as never to utter a sentiment
beyond vulgar observation, nor
to attempt making use of her reason upon
any occasion whatever; so that a person
might easily believe her mind to be still
immersed in the depths of ignorance.

In the valuable collection of Biography,
which this young lady kindly submitted
to my perusal, the first book that
attracted my attention, was, the History
of a Nobleman;
but I soon found, that
the word “History” has more meanings in
the English language, than that which is
given to it in the Dictionary. It is there
said to be, “a narative of events and
facts, delivered with dignity.”
But the
history of this illustrious nobleman, consisted1 sisted C2r 19
of nothing more than a few letters
written in the days of juvenile folly, on
the subject of love!—Indeed, I cannot
imagine why such immature productions
should have been preserved at all; and
still less can I conceive for what purpose
they are given to the world, to whom,
the opinion which a young man entertains
of the unparalleled beauty of his
mistress’s complexion, can surely be of
very little consequence. Other histories
I found written in the manner of memoirs;
these are said to contain the lives
of illustrious personages, whose names
adorn the title page. It appears very
strange, that the lives of these great personages
should abound in incidents so
similar; an account of one will serve to
give you an idea of the events that have
occurred in fifty families, whose histories
I have already read.

It happens, that a noble-born infant is
deserted by its fond parents, and exposed C2 to C2v 20
to the care of chance, and the humanity
of strangers. These fortunate foundlings
never fail to be adopted by the first person
who takes them up, and as these are
always people of fortune, they receive
from their bounty an education, every
way suitable to their real rank. As soon
as the young nobleman attains the age of
manhood, he falls in love with the daughter
of his benefactor, a circumstance
which involves the loving pair in the
deepest misery. At length, a period
is put to their misfortunes, by the discovery
of the real parents, and the young
lord is admitted to all the privileges of
his order. You may now perhaps expect
that the history should become more
interesting and important, and be curious
to hear how the young nobleman conducts
himself in his new station; whether
the experience he has had of life,
serves to expand his benevolence, to invigorate
his intellectual powers, and to render C3r 21
render him a more worthy member of
that august tribunal, in which is concentrated
the illustrous mass of hereditary
virtue? As to all these points, you must
content yourself to remain in ignorance;
with the marriage of the hero, the history
of his life concludes!

From this circumstance, and, indeed,
from the whole tenor of these books, it
appears evident, that with these islanders,
marriage is a certain passport to never
failing, and never fading bliss! A state
nearly resembling that divine absorption
of the soul described by our Yogees,
which entirely excludes the cares and
concerns of life, and in which the mind
is wrapt in a delirium of perfect and
uninterrupted felicity!—Happy country!
where the prudence and fidelity of the
women of high rank, so plainly evince
the care that is bestowed on their instruction,
and where the piety, learning, and C3 morality C3v 22
morality of the men, is only to be equalled
by their humility!

I will not conceal from you, that in
these true and faithful pictures of the
manners and morals of the people of
England, I see much that appears to
me extraordinary, and incomprehensible.
Here, it is said by our philosophers, that,
“in this life (compounded of good and
evil)Heetopades.
sickness, and health; opulence,
and calamity; fruition, and disappointment,
are bound up together; thus every
thing is produced with a companion which
shall destroy it
.”
By this scheme of things,
the wounds of affliction are ever within
the reach of some cordial balm, which, if
it does not heal, may at least serve to
alleviate its anguish. While, in the purest
cup of felicity, is mingled such particles,
as may serve to remind the mortal to
whom it is presented, of the sublunary source C4r 23
source from whence it flowed.—In England,
on the contrary (if I am to believe
these histories) happiness and misery
are known only in extremes; there the
tide of adversity sets in with such destructive
fury, that the bare recital of the unheard-of
calamities it occasions, is sufficient
to melt the hardest heart! Nor
when the flood of fortune comes, is the
thetorrent of prosperity which it produces,
less extraordinary and amazing!
In its resistless career, every barrier to
happiness is broken down. The undeserving
husband, the cruel father, and the
malicious aunt, are all carried off by
death: while riches, honours, titles, fine
clothes, and spotless character, complete
the felicity of the beautiful and loving
pair, who are designed to be overwhelmed
in this sea of bliss.

From the authority of these authentic
memoirs
, it appears, that marriage in C4 Europe C4v 24
Europe is never contracted but from the
most pure and disinterested motives.
Every young woman who is handsome
and accomplished, however humble her
birth, or small her fortune, is there certain
of attracting the love and admiration
of numbers of the highest rank in
the community. What a glorious encouragement
is held forth to the females
of that happy island, who must be blind
indeed not to perceive that it is their own
obstinacy and folly, that alone can possibly
prevent their advancement to the very
summit of felicity!

For such folly and obstinacy, whenever
it occurs, a very peculiar and extraordinary
punishment is reserved. After a
few years, spent, as it is generally believed,
in vain repentance, and useless regret,
they all at once, without any exceptions
in favour of virtue, merit, useful
or ornamental accomplishments, undergodergo C5r 25
a certain change, and incomprehensible
transformation, and become
what is termed “Old Maids”. From all
that I have hitherto been able to learn of
these creatures, the Old Maid is a sort of
venemous animal, so wicked in its temper,
and so mischievous in its disposition,
that one is surprised that its very existence
should be tolerated in a civilized
society.

After having spent many days in the
study of those authors, so warmly recommended
by the young Bibby, I began to
apprehend that though to more enlightened
minds, they might doubtless prove a
source of instruction and delight, they
were not sufficiently adapted to my weak
capacity, to afford any recompence for the
time spent in their perusal. Never before did C5v 26
did my heart refuse its sympathy to human
misery; but the distresses of the Lady
Hariots
, and the Lady Charlottes, which
called forth the overflowings of compassion,
in the breasts of their fair correspondents,
were of a nature too refined
and delicate, to be discernable to any
save the Microscopic eye of European
sensibility!

The change which according to these
sage writers of Novels, has taken place
in human nature, must have been as sudden
as it appears unaccountable. In the
days of their great Dramatic Poet, the
Calidas of Europe
, it was certainly unknown;
in his masterly delineations of the
passions, it is every where, and at every
period the same: and from a perusal of
his works, one would be tempted to
imagine (notwithstanding the evidence
of these authentic memoirs to the contrary)
that though manners may differ, and local C6r 27
local customs fall into oblivion, the traits
of kindred likeness, which the Creator
has been pleased to impress on the great
family of the human race, may, by a discerning
eye, be traced through every
clime, and in every period of its existence!
How otherwise should the immortal
Calidas, who flourished two thousand
years ago,Calidas, the celebrated dramatic poet of India,
flourished, according to Sir William Jones, in the
first century before Christ; he was one of the nine
men of genius, commonly called the Nine Gems,
who were favoured with the patronage, and splendidly
supported by the bounty of Vicramáditycs,
a Monarch eminently distinguished by his taste for
literature.
(See the preface to Sir William Jones’s translation
of Sacontala.)
and the Bard of England,
who was cotemporary with Ackbar,
teach the heart to vibrate with the same
sensations? The Sacontala of the one,
and the Desdemona of the other, speak
so nearly the same language, that did I not C6v 28
I not believe the soul of the Indian poet
to have been long absorbed in the regions
of felicity, I should undoubtedly imagine,
that it was Calidas himself, who,
under the name of Shakspeare, again
vouchsafed to enlighten and delight the
world!—It is at least evident that they
have both copied from the same original
“Unchanging, everlasting Nature!”

A chasm of many weeks has taken
place in my journal. Alas! When I
undertook to write it, I was not aware
of the tedious uniformity of a sea voyage.
But though void of incident, the scene
has not been destitute of instruction. By
time, and increasing intimacy, the characters
of my companions have been
more fully developed. The first sketch
that was drawn by the hasty pencil of imagination, C7r 29
imagination, I confidently pronounced
to be a striking likeness; but very different
now appears the picture, that has
been delineated by slow-working observation.

In my letter from Madrass,This letter is not to be found. I informed
you of the acquisition I expected from
the society of the young officer, whose
sprightly manners, and communicative
disposition, gave the promise of an everpleasing
companion. But, alas! I soon
discovered that sprightliness and loquacity
are by no means united with urbanity
and cheerfulness.—The small stock
of personal anecdote, with which the incidents
of his life had furnished him, was
no sooner exhausted, than he became
dull, insipid, and morose. Nor was the
change which seemed wrought on his
temper, less extraordinary, than that which C7v 30
which took place in his manners. This
youth, seemingly so gentle; who took
such pleasure in obliging; who lived
but to promote the happiness of others,
gives every day such convincing proofs
of the malignity of his disposition, in the
cruel treatment he bestows upon his
younger brother, that it is impossible to
behold it without feelings of horror, and
indignation.

How different from this, is the change
that has taken place in my opinion, concerning
the character of the Dewan.
Alas! I fear, that in more instances than
these, my first opinion has been like an
unjust judge, who suffers his decisions to
be influenced by the eloquence of flattery.
Self-love, whispers that those who
are pleased with us, are pleasing; and it
is not till experience has convinced us
of our error, that we are willing to listen
to the voice of truth. The reserve, and silence C8r 31
silence which at first seemed to give to the
character of the Dewan an appearance
of sull ennesssullenness and stupidity, gradually
cleared away, by time and encreasing
intimacy, and discovered to us incontestable
proofs of a mild and placid temper,
a deeply-thinking, well-informed mind,
and a humane and benevolent heart.

The conduct of his Lady, has not, I
confess, undergone much change; but
my opinion of it has been somewhat
altered, by an insight into its motives.

That haughty, and arrogant demeanour,
which I had conceived to flow from
the conscious superiority of birth and
merit, was, it seems, assumed by folly, to
conceal the real meanness of both. Her
history appeared to me so very extraordinary,
that had I not had the most convincing
proofs of the veracity of my informer,former, C8v 32
I confess, I should have been
led to doubt its truth.

This disdainful Lady, whom I had
considered as some highly exalted personage,
was the daughter of a tradesman,
“whose foolish fondness,” said the Surgeon,
(for I give you his very words)
“bestowed upon her such an education, as,
without instructing her in the qualities
that are alone suited to adorn an exalted
rank, rendered her unfit for becoming
wife to a man in her own. At the death
of this parent, she laid out the small fortune
he bequeathed her, in fine cloaths,
and took her passage to Bengal, where
she did not doubt that her beauty would
procure her an advantageous marriage.
The event proved equal to her expectations.
On her arrival, she was seen by
the Dewan, who admired, courted, and
married her!”
“I thought” said I, interrupting2 rupting D1r 33
my informer, “that Europeans
had made companion of their wives.
Surely, this woman was not qualified
for being the companion of such a man
as the Dewan. It is not possible to
imagine, that her intellectual deficiencies,
would be unobserved by a man of
his sense, and penetration.”
“The
Dewan was too much charmed with
her beauty, to observe any deficiency
in her merit,”
replied the Surgeon;
“or, if he did, she was so young, that he
promised himself much pleasure in filling
the office of Preceptor.”
Alas! he
considered not that pride is the usual concomitant
of ignorance; that it is not the
understanding which has been perverted
by vanity, prejudice, and folly, that will
listen to the instructions of a husband.
Her hopes of happiness were from the
enjoyment of his fortune.

“Elated by her exaltation to affluence,
she thought that to realize the dreams Vol. II. D of D1v 34
of bliss, formed by her fond fancy, she
had only to indulge in every capricious
whim of vanity. Her extravagance was
unbounded. But soon she found that it
was not in the power of splendid equipage,
or fantastic finery, to fill the chasm
of an empty mind.
The delight of unrivaled pre-eminence
in every article of expensive ornament,
soon gave place to sullen apathy,
and fretful discontent. New follies were
invented, and pursued with no better
success, and it will, perhaps, astonish you,
to learn, that her mighty fondness for the
brute creation, instead of proceeding from
the pure source of true benevolence, was
in reality, no other than an effort of
the animal spirits, to procure an object
of employment to her ever restless
mind.”
Here D2r 35

Here ceased my kind informer; who
left me very much astonished, at the
picture he had drawn of an English woman,
and a Christian.

After much reflection, I think I can
trace the unenlightened state of this woman’s
understanding, to her want of instruction.
Had she received her education
at one of those wise, learned, and
pious seminaries, called boarding-schools,
her mind would no doubt have been
vigilantly defended from the noxious
breath of vanity and conceit. She would
there have learned according to the precepts
of her Shaster, to have adorned herself
with shamefacedness and sobriety.
Not with broidered hair, or gold, or
pearls, or costly array, but (which becometh
women possessing godliness)
with good works.”
Such, no doubt,
is the education of Christian women, at
Christian schools! How does it exalt my D2 opinion D2v 36
opinion of the native genius of the young
widow; when I contemplate the extent
of her acquired knowledge, her unaffected
humility, her undeviating discretion;
and at the same time, consider, that by
her own account, she never enjoyed the
advantages of instruction at one of these
enlightened seminaries, but was confined
during the early part of her life, to the
roof of her parents! Is it not surprising,
that, notwithstanding this disadvantage,
she should have made such proficiency
in every accomplishment? My first sentiments
concerning her remain unaltered.
Her exalted sentiments continue
to excite my admiration, while her sweet
temper, and ever obliging disposition,
make daily progress in my esteem.

The morning after I last laid down
my pen, we arrived at a small island, which D3r 37
which the benignant hand of Nature seems
to have (erected) in the midst of the
mighty ocean, as a convenient Choultrie,
Choultries, are houses built in India, for the
accommodation of travellers.
for the floating caravanseras that
traverse its watery bosom. Here we
spent nearly twenty days, and were entertained
by the inhabitants, who appear
a gay and lively people, with much kindness
and hospitality.

The change of scene was relished by
all the party, but by none so much as
the neice of the Dewan; to whom the
uniform life we led on board ship, was
become altogether insupportable. She
had indeed for a long time, been at a
most pitiable loss for employment. The
contents of her library, which I imagined,
would have afforded her a fund of amusement
and edification, during the course
of her voyage, were soon exhausted.

D3 Having D3v 38

Having once found out how all the wished-for
marriages, of all the heroes and
heroines, were brought about; and been
let into the secret of the surprising discoveries,
lucky accidents, and miraculous
combination of circumstances, which uniformly
led to that happy event, she had
no further interest nor curiosity concerning
them. These books had, nevertheless,
by giving constant fuel to the
vivid flame of youthful imagination,
created such an insatiable craving for
novelty, as rendered every other sort of
reading, tasteless and insipid. Even the
ever entertaining conversation of our intelligent
companions, had no charms for
her. I have frequently known the chain
of an interesting argument, to which I
have been listening with avidity and delight,
all at once interrupted, by her
abruptly asking, when we should see land?
Whatever gave the promise of variety,
seemed to re-animate her flagging spirits. Whether D4r 39
Whether it was the appearance of a flying-
fish—or the rumoured approach of an
enemy; the drowning of a kitten, or the
indications of a coming storm, all were
equally acceptable; so that they relieved
her, from the tedious task of thought.
The approach to St. Helena, made her
almost wild with joy. No sooner was it
announced, than she flew to her cabin,
to take from her trunk, some particular
dresses, which she had reserved for the
occasion, and hastily displaying them before
the amiable widow, asked her fifty
questions in a breath, concerning the important
point, of which was most becoming.

Besides the novelty of the scenes, and
amusements at St. Helena, she there
made another acquisition, which, I hope,
will afford her sufficient variety of entertainment
for many weeks to come. This
is no other than a fresh supply of novels! D4 This [Gap in transcription—2 pagesomitted] D4v 40
This she happily accomplished, by exchanging
the contents of her library, with
another reading fair one, whom she accidently
met at a ball, and with whom,
on an acquaintance of three days, she
commenced an extreme and ardent friendship.
The great loquacity with which
her present flow of spirits has inspired
this votary of fancy, is sometimes no less
teazing than the effects of her former
ennui: to the elegant, but somewhat too
fastidious Delomond, it is peculiarly irksome.

In truth, it is not a little to be regretted,
that this amiable man frequently
indulges a certain soreness of mind,
which may not improperly be termed
the illigitimate offspring of sensibility.
What proves its spurious birth, is, that
while genuine sensibility is ever alive to
the feelings of others, this bastard branch
of the family, is only mindful of its own. By D5r 41
By being ever ready to take offence,
without considering whether offence was
intended to be given, it frequently inflicts
a wound in the bosom of friendship; but
is unfeelingly insensible to the pain which
it has produced. What a pity it is, that
this imposter, should ever find a place in
the breast of a worthy man! I cannot
without pain, behold it cherished by
the dignified mind of Delomond, and
would not fail to remonstrate with him
concerning it, was he not so easily hurt,
that I fear an estrangement of his friendship
might be the consequence. Fatal
propensity! which presents a barrier to
the wholesome succours of advice, and
cuts off retreat from error. In the various
sketches which this amiable and accomplished
Saib, has given me of his life,
and his misfortunes, I can plainly discern,
that the disposition I have just now
alluded to, has been no less detrimental to D5v 42
to his fortune, than injurious to his felicity.

I suspect, that you are now almost
as much tired of the voyage, as the neice
of the Dewan, and begin to re-echo her
interrogatory, of when shall we see land?
But courage, keep up your spirits, your
patience will not be put to a much longer
trial.—Land has been just discovered from
the topmast-head.—I cannot avoid envying
the happy sailor, who from the giddy
height, catches the first view of his dear
native country. Ah! what pleasing images
play about his heart! in that little speck
appearing in the distant horizon, he beholds
his little home; his tender wife; his
endearing infants; and already, in imagination,
feels, and returns their soft caresses.
I go to participate in the joy of these D6r 43
these honest people, it is a bad heart to
which the happiness of a fellow mortal
can be indifferent.

Ah! Māāndāāra, how astonishingly
great has been my disappointment! Instead
of the expected appearance of felicity,
I beheld in the countenances of
the hitherto hearty, and contented sailors,
the strongest indications of consternation,
terror, and dismay! On enquiring into
the cause of this alarm, I was told, that
it arose from the rumoured approach of
a press-gang; a press-gang I never before
heard of, but from the degree of
terror it inspires, I can easily conceive
it be some infernal species of monster;
some cruel servant to the genii of the
deep, to whom the long-absent sailor is
an acceptable sacrifice. Accursed spirits!
the terror of whose name, can put to
flight the tender images of hope, and
can induce despair at the moment when the D6v 44
the sweetest impulses of nature have
kindled the torch of joy!

At the moment I laid down my pen,
a fine boy of about fifteen years of age,
who had frequently in the course of the
voyage, attracted my notice, burst into
my cabin. “For the love of God,
assist me dear, dear Sir,”
cried he,
“the press-gang are already here, and
I know, I shall not escape! For myself,
I should not care; but, my poor,
poor mother! she will never survive
it. I know she won’t. Alas! she has
no son, but me.—Her heart is now
yearning to embrace me. O it will
break, if she is disappointed!”
I gave
him time to say no more, but having
hastily emptied a large trunk, made him
leap into it, and there detained him, until D7r 45
until I was assured that these children of
Nareyka had retired. Alas! they did
not retire without prey; above thirty of
those brave fellows, whose useful labours
have conduced to the enrichment, and
prosperity of their country; who, after
an absence of twenty months, hoped to
reap the reward of their toils, by returning
to its bosom, were dragg’d reluctant
victims to the infernal demon of power!

Nor are these the only monsters that
infest the British coast.—Much apprehension
is entertained by the seamen,
and passengers, for certain savages, called
Custom-house Officers; who, it seems, are
particularly ferocious towards those who
come from the East.

Praise to the preserving Spirit!—Our
watery pilgrimage begins to draw near 2 its D7v 46
its close. At ten this morning, we cast
our anchor, at the distance of about a
cass from one of the principal Naval
Ports in England. All on board is now
hurry and confusion, every eye sparkles
with the eagerness of expectation, and
every heart seems warm, with the
thoughts of once more beholding their
friends, and their native country; it is
the tumult of delight; the dread of the
custom-house officers, is forgotten; I
suppose, our fleet was too formidable for
these savages to dare to make any attack
upon it. And now that we are
within sight of an English port, we can
have nothing to fear. Seeing every one
making preparations for going ashore,
I retired to spend an hour at my pen;
but, the encreasing bustle, renders it impossible
for me to proceed further at
present.

On D8r 47

On going upon deck, I was surprised
to observe a number of strange faces,
and anxiously enquired, what kind friends
had taken this early opportunity of greeting
our arrival?—With astonishment, I
learned, that the strangers, were no other
than the dreaded custom-house officers.
In manners, dress, stature, and complexion,
nay even in language, these savages
bear so strong a resemblance to the English,
that they might at a slight view, be
mistaken for the same; but, on a more accurate
examination of their countenances,
evident traces of their savage origin, may
be easily discerned. They are less ferocious
than the – – – – –, and seldom murder
those who fall into their hands, unless
in cases of resistance. This they did not
meet with from any of us; but, got leave
to rifle, rob, and plunder, without any
hindrance, or molestation. Their avidity
for plunder, though eager beyond description,scription, D8v 48
seems to be acquired by the
strangest caprice. On the commodities
of Europe, they seemed to set no value;
but seized with savage rapacity, on the
more elegant productions of the East.
In respect to these, the neice of the Dewan,
and myself, have been the greatest
sufferers. A beautiful piece of silver
muslin, which the fair reader of Novels,
had treasured up, as her choicest
ornament, and on which, she set a tenfold
value, from its being of a similar description
to that which was worn by the
Right Hon. Lady Araminta Eleanora
Bloomville
, on the day of her nuptials;
was seized by these relentless barbarians,
without remorse. With a copious flood
of tears, she besought them to spare her
favourite robe; but, alas! the supplications
of beauty, touched not the heart of
these savage plunderers, who beheld unmoved,
the pearly drops, which coursed
each other down the fair one’s cheek! My E1r 49
My cabin afforded a still more ample
share of plunder. The shawls, the muslins,
which I intended to have presented
to the sister of Percy; and the less costly,
though in the eye of affection, no less
valuable presents, which the generosity
of Grey, had enabled young Morton to
send to his family; all, all, were seized,
by the unhallowed hands of these ruthless
spoilers! Had they taken my whole
chest of gold Inhors, it would not have
grieved me half so much! But, as it is a
misfortune, for which I perceive there is
no remedy, I must have recourse to that
only physic of the hopeless—Patience.

From the Queen of the ocean, the
favoured Island of Great Britain, does
the wandering Zaarmilla, now address Vol. II. E the E1v 50
the most beloved of friends.—Having
taken leave of the Captain and officers,
and returned, well-merited, thanks for
their kind attention during our voyage;
we went into a boat, which had been sent
from the harbour, for the conveyance of
the passengers, and were quickly landed
on one of the ghauts of Portsmouth; it is
impossible to convey to your imagination,
any notion of the magnificence of the
spectacle that presented itself to our view,
in this short sail. No idea of the sublimity
of a fleet of floating fortresses, can
possibly be conceived by those who have
not beheld the unequalled scene. The
army of the most powerful Monarch of
the East, though numerous as the grains of
sand upon the shores of the sea, the dust
of the feet of whose Elephants obscures
from the noon-day sun, cannot, in point
of grandeur, bear comparison with an
assemblage of these glories of the ocean,
that ride triumphant in an English port.

We E2r 51

We have taken up our present abode at
a sort of Choultrie, called an Hotel, and
are to spend the remainder of the day together.
To-morrow, we shall separate,
perhaps, for ever! The lovely widow,
in whose countenance, I see the emotions
of tender recollections struggling with
that amiable fortitude, which strives to
repress the feelings of unavailing sorrow,
purposes going to the house of a friend,
at a few miles distance from this place,
and there to wait the arrival of her mother.
I am to have the happiness of
Delomond’s company, on my journey to
London, which is a very great comfort
to me, as I find myself almost as much
at a loss here, as if I had never before
been in an English settlement. The
Dewan has been busily employed in
preparations for the conveyance of his
family. His Lady’s extreme delicacy
not permitting her to submit to the ordinary
mode of travelling, in hired carriages,E2 riages, E2v 52
he has been obliged to purchase
one for her accommodation. Happily,
the mortality which prevailed amongst her
favourites, in the course of the voyage,
has so much diminished their numbers,
as to render their conveyance a matter
of little comparative difficulty; had
they all survived, he must surely have
had a carriage built for them on purpose!

I am happy I had not closed this
packet, as it gives me an opportunity
of recording a scene that has just now
passed, while my heart still glows with
the emotions it has excited.

The youth, whom I had the good fortune
to protect, from the ruthless fangs
of the press-gang, presented himself before
me, at an early hour this morning. —“You E3r 53
“You will think me a sad ungrateful
fellow, Sir,”
said he, “that I should
not have appeared to thank you, for
the very great service you rendered
me; but, the moment I obtained the
Captain’s leave, I made the best of my
way out of this place; as I did not think
I should be in safety, till I reached
home. I set off on foot, and had got
rather more than ten miles on my
journey last night, when I was overtaken
by a fellow midshipman, who informed
me of the loss you had sustained
from the sharks of the customhouse;
I have got here, a bit of your
India sort of stuff, to take home to my
mother; but I know she would wear
nothing I brought her with any satisfaction,
if she thought so meanly of
me, as that I could basely forget a debt
of gratitude.”
So saying, he pulled
from his bosom a very handsome shawl,
purchased, no doubt, with the scanty earningsE3 ings E3v 54
of his initiating voyage. “Here,
Sir,”
said he, presenting it to me in a
careless manner, as if in order to depricate
its value; “it is nothing to be sure
in comparison of the fine things you
have lost; but, as it is real Indian, it may
be more acceptable to your English
friends, than something much better
bought at home.”
There was something
so open and ingenuous, in the countenance
of the youth, while he spoke
these words, which he did in the most
impressive manner, that he altogether
overpowered my feelings. “Protecting
power!”
I exclaimed, “thou, whose mighty
breath, can kindle in the human soul, the
flame of virtue; oh! grant, that the
son of Zaarmilla, may be capable of inspiring
in the breast of a stranger, such
sensations as the noble action of this
youth causes now to glow in mine! But
think not, excellent young man”
(continued
I) “that I can deprive thy mother
of the gift of such a son. No, long may E4r 55
may she wear this, and proudly may she
exhibit it to her friends and neighbours,
as the sweet pledge of filial affection;
more honourable than the gifts of
princes! more precious than the jewels
of Golconda!”
I was interrupted by the
Dewan, who had hitherto been a silent
spectator of all that had passed. Shaking
the youth heartily by the hand, “You
are a noble fellow,”
said he, “and I
must know more of you; but you
may make yourself perfectly easy about
this gentleman’s losses, as, I believe,
I have taken such steps, as will effect
their restitution; but I must let you
know where to find me, and assure
you, that wherever I am, there you
shall have a friend.”
So saying, he gave
him his address, enjoining him to call
upon him as soon as he could find an
opportunity. While he yet spoke, two
men arrived, with the whole of the goods
which had been seised by the pirates. E4 The E4v 56
The Dewan, desired each of us to pick
out our own; but would give us no satisfaction,
as to the manner in which he
had effected their release.

I am told, the carriage waits for me,
and must therefore conclude this long
protracted journal.

May the Almighty Preserver, whose
omnipotent arm hath safely guided me
across the world of waters, to this remote
corner of the habitable globe; He, whose
essence pervades all space! shed the
dews of his mercy, on the dwelling of my
friend! may his choicest blessings rest on
the child of my affections! the blossom
of my heart! and may the sweet buds of
hope, peace, and contentment, continue
to expand in the virtuous bosom of my
gentle Zamarcanda! What can I say
more?

Letter E5r 57

Letter XIII.

At length Maandaara, behold me in
the metropolis of England, the celebrated
city of London. My heart bounds within
me, at the idea of the new scenes I
am about to behold. The pulse of expectation
beats in every vein.—I was all
impatience, to deliver my letters of introduction;
but, unluckily, we arrived at
the very season of a solemn festival, which
is very properly celebrated by the Christians,
in commemoration of an event which
opened to their view the glorious hopes
of rising from the bed of death, to the
regions of eternal glory!—You may well
imagine that a festival originating in such
a source, is celebrated throughout the
Christian world with appropriate solemnity.
With them, the forms and ceremonies4 monies E5v 58
of their religion, remain not merely
as a testimony of the superior piety
which produced them. These institutions
have not become a reproach to the
degeneracy of succeeding ages! They
have not, with them, become a solemn
mockery! a satire upon a trifling, and
frivilous generation! No; at the time
of these holydays, most of the families
of distinction retire into the country,
that they may there enjoy the heart-
purifying benefit of solemn meditation,
uninterrupted by the business, or pleasures
of the world. Ah! how edifying
their devotion!—How exemplary their
conduct!—How happy for the community
must it be, if the lower orders are
induced to tread in their foot-steps!
The few people of rank who remain in
town, are equally sedulous in preparing
their minds for this devout solemnity.—
They frequent no places that are not private:
—private theatricals, private concerts,certs, E6r 59
private pharo-banks, I have already
heard of; and I make no doubt, there are
numerous other places of private resort,
equally honourable to religion, and favourable
to virtue!

By the kind care of my friend Delomond,
I am provided with a very convenient
lodging, in the street which leads
to the King’s palace. This palace is, in
truth, but a mean building, very unlike
the Durbar of an Eastern Monarch.

I have spent the greater part of the
week, in taking a survey of the town,
and examining its temples, and other
public buildings.—The extent of this
metropolis, though it shrinks into insignificance,
when compared with the Imperialperial E6v 60
residence of our ancient Rajahs,
the celebrated birth place of Rama,Oude, said in the Mahhabaret, to have been
the first regular Imperial city of Hindooston, and
extended, if we may believe the Bramins, over a
line of ten Yogans, or about forty miles; and the
present city of Lucknow, was only a lodge for
one of its gates.

or the Ganga-washed walls of Canouge;Canouge, a celebrated ancient city of Hindooston,
on the banks of the Ganges; whose walls
are said in the Mahhabaret, to have been one hundred
miles in circumference.

is yet sufficiently great, to strike with
astonishment the insignificant mortal,
who has beheld only the modern cities
of Hindoostan. The foot-paths which
are raised at the sides of every street, are
filled with a busy throng, where it is curious
to behold women, as well as men,
apparently intent upon business, entering
into the shops, and making purchases,
with the undaunted mien of masculine
appearance. Far from walking along the E7r 61
the streets with that timid air of shrinking
modesty, which distinguishes the females
of our race,See the elegant engravings, illustrative of
Mr. Hodges’s remarks on this subject, in his
Travels in India.
when they venture
into the walks of men, their fearless
eye undaunted meets the glances of every
beholder; and happy is it for the men
of the country, that it doth so; for if
modesty was super-added to their other
charms it would be impossible to guard
the heart from their fascinating influence.

Having heard that the first day of the
week, Andectya-war,It is very remarkable, that the days of the
week are named in the Shanscrit language, from
the same planets to which they were assigned by
the Greeks and Romans.
, was appointed for
attending the worship of the deity in
public; I expressed to Delomond, my
wish of being present at the solemnity.
He declined accompanying me; but sent E7v 62
sent to a Lady of his acquaintance, to beg
she would accomodate me with a seat
in her pew.—These pews, are little inclosures,
into which the greatest part of
the temple is sub-divided. We walked up
to that which belonged to this Bibby,
preceded by one of her servants, who
opened the door of the pew, and followed
by another in the same livery, who
carried the books of prayer; with which
having presented us, he retired. I have
already observed to you, how scrupulously
the English Christians adhere to those
precepts of their Shaster, which seem
to discountenance the outward appearance
of a religious sentiment; and so rigorously
do they abstain from the display
of these delightful emotions, that they who
will thankfully acknowledge the most trifling
obligation conferred upon them by the
meanest of their fellow-creatures, would
blush to be suspected of gratitude to the
beneficent Governor of the Universe! Instead E8r 63
Instead of behaving in this temple, as if
they had assembled together to send up
their united tribute of praise, thanksgiving,
and humble supplication, to the
Most High, so successfully did they
affect the concealment of their devotional
sentiments, that no one would have suspected
they had met together for any
other purpose, but that of staring at each
other’s dress! I must, however, make an
exception in regard to a small number of
people, very plainly habited, who stood
during the service, in a part of the church
called the aisle; these appeared not to have
arrrivedarrived at such a state of perfection.
They could not affect indifference, as they
joined in the petition for averting the
punishment of sins; nor concealed the interest
they had in the glad tidings of eternal
happiness. They listened with peculiar
complacency to the accounts of
him, who “came to preach the gospel
to the poor,”
and the hopes of his favourvour E8v 64
seemed to irradiate with joy the
bosom of resignation. A female of advanced
life, in whom all these emotions
were discernable, particularly arrested
my attention. The paleness of her countenance,
spoke her want of health, and
the lines which sorrow had traced in it,
accorded with the sable weeds of widowhood,
which she wore. She appeared
ready to faint from the fatigue of long
standing, and made a modest application
to a person, who seemed to act as porter
of the pews, for admittance into one of
them. To my astonishment, she met
with a refusal; nor did any one of the
gorgeously apparelled Christians, who sat
in them, appear to be any way concerned
for her situation; indeed, they all seemed
to regard those who worshipped God
from the aisle, as if they had been beings
of an inferior race. I was, however, well
convinced, that Christianity admits of
no such distinctions; and supposing the Christian F1r 65
Christian Lady who sat by me, though
her eyes were roving to all parts of the
temple, was, in reality, too much engaged
in her devotions, to observe what passed,
I took the liberty of acting for her, and
opening the door of the pew, invited
the poor sick stranger to a seat. At that
moment, the priest was preferring a petition,
in favour of all “fatherless children,
and widows, and all who are
desolate and oppressed
;”
to which the
great Lady had just uttered the response
of, “We beseech thee to hear us, good
Lord!”
—when observing the poor woman
by her side, her face instantly flushed
a deep crimson; rage and indignation
darted from her eyes, and, telling the
fainting stranger, that she was very
impudent, for daring to intrude herself
into her presence,”
she turned her out
into the aisle. I was weak enough, to be
shocked at the behaviour of this well-
dressed votary of Christianity. Ah! Vol. II. F thought F1v 66
thought I, can it be, that this woman
should be so conscious of her superiority,
in every thing which constitutes distinction
in the eye of the Omnipotent, as
to consider herself worthy of sitting in his
presence
, while she spurns from her own,
the humble child of poverty, and affliction?

I have just returned from my first
visit to Doctor Severan, the gentleman
to whose attentions Grey has most particularly
recommended me; nor could
he, according to the opinion of Delomond,
have done me a more essential service. My
accomplished friend, who was, it seems,
the companion of his youthful studies,
tells me, that at the university, it appeared
evident that he was born to be the ornamentment F2r 67
of Science. Whilst other young
men were pursuing the gaudy phantom
of pleasure, his time was occupied in investigating
the Laws of Nature, in tearing
the choicest secrets from her reluctant
bosom, or, in tracing her foot-steps
through the various phænomena of the
material world.—Nor, continued Delomond,
as we drove to this gentleman’s
house, is he less estimable as a man, than
respectable as a philosopher. But, indeed,
the connection between philosophy
and virtue, is so natural, that it is only
their separation that can excite surprise;
for is not the very basis of science, a
sincere and disinterested love of truth?
An enlarged view of things cannot fail
to destroy the effects of prejudice: and
while it awakens in the mind, the most
sublime ideas of the great original cause;
it promotes, most necessarily, a detestation
of every thing that is mean or base.”

We just then stopped at the door of his F2 friend, F2v 68
friend, and were ushered into an apartment
surrounded with shelves of books,
arranged in no very good order; every
table, and almost every seat, was occupied
by numerous odd shaped vessels,
some of glass, and others of metal,
but for what use I could not possibly
comprehend. The philosopher himself,
at length appeared. A tall thin man, of
about forty years of age, his dress put on
in a manner particularly careless; but
his countenance, so mild, and serious!
it was the very personification of benignity.
He appeared rejoiced at seeing
Delomond, who, if possible, was exalted
in my esteem, by seeing the degree of
estimation in which he was held by the
philosopher. Myself he received in the
most gracious manner; and, by his
kindness to me, he gave the most convincing
proof of his regard for my friend
Grey, of whom, indeed, he spoke very
handsomely. He informed me, that Lady F3r 69
Lady Grey, widow to the brother of our
friend, was then at her country residence,
but that her brother, Sir Caprice Ardent,
for whom I had likewise a letter of introduction,
was in London; and added,
that he should do himself the pleasure of
accompanying me to the house of this
gentleman, the day after to-morrow; and
hoped that I would come “to eat my breakfast
with him, before we went”
. You will
smile at the invitation: and, no doubt, be
surprised to find this philosopher, whom
one would expect to soar above the practices
and notions of the vulgar, taking
such a method of shewing his hospitality;
but it is a difficult thing to get the better of
early prejudice; nor does the generality of
mankind in any country, enquire into the
propriety of customs, to which they have
been rendered familar by use. Though
to us it appears highly absurd, as well as
grossly indelicate, to see people looking
in each others’ faces while they chew F3 their F3v 70
their food, and calling it sociable to swallow
their morsel at the same moment; it is
possible, that these Europeans may think
our solitary manner of eating equally
ridiculous; and if they abstain from censuring
it, is it not a proof of their being
more enlightened? Often have I observed
to you, and often I do see reason to repeat
the observation, “that it is they only
who have conquered the force of prejudice in
themselves, that can make any allowance
for the effects of it in others”
.

Coffee-houses, similar to that described
in one of my letters from Calcutta,
are to be met with in every quarter
of this city. Those I have here
seen, are schools of politics, resorted
to by all who take an interest in public affairs; F4r 71
affairs;—a true and authentic statement
of which is daily printed on large sheets
of paper, and copies are, I am told, sent
to every part of the Island. In the
Coffee-houses, these are handed about
from politician to politician, and furnish
matter for the general discourse. For
my part, though possessed of a sufficient
share of curiosity, I did not care to
be too forward in seeking to pry into
the state affairs of the country; but
having accompanied Delomond, yesterday,
into a neighbouring coffee-house,
and hearing a gentleman who sat near
me, declare, that the paper he was then
perusing, was indubitably published under
the immediate direction of the British
minister, I could not restrain my impatience,
to examine its contents—and
the moment he laid it down, I eagerly
flew to its perusal.

F4 It F4v 72

It is impossible to describe to you, the
admiration with which the reading of
this paper inspired me, for the talents
and virtues of this sapient noble, who
presides in the supreme councils of this
happy nation. So extensive! so multifarious!
so minute are the subjects of
his concerns, that one contemplates
with astonishment, the mind that is capable
of grasping such an infinity of
objects. In one paragraph, he reports
to the nation, the account of a victory
which their armies had obtained, or nearly
obtained
over the forces of their Christian
enemies; tells the numbers of the slain—
of those who are still suffering the agonies
of pain, far from the soothing balm of
affection! far from the healing consolations
of friendship!—To the families of
such as are in a situation to afford the
expensive insignia of sorrows, the names
of their fallen friends are announced;
but, to the poor, who can only afford to 3 wear F5r 73
wear mourning in their hearts, there is
no necessity of giving such a particular
account of their friends; it is sufficient
for them to know, that few, very few of
them can ever again behold their native
homes! In the next paragraph, this puissant
statesman informs the world of the
safe arrival in town of Sir Dapper Dawdle,
in his phaeton and four; which, and
many similar pieces of intelligence, are,
no doubt, given with the beneficient intention
of informing the poor and wretched,
where they may find their benefactors;
those, who by their liberal and repeated
acts of charity, have obtained “the blessing
of them, who are ready to perish”
. Nor is the
nourishment of the mind neglected by
this wise minister; the public are informed,
in this newspaper, where such books are
to be had, as are, doubtless, best calculated
for their instruction. I have already
told you, that the females of this place
go themselves into the shops, in order to purchase F5v 74
purchase what they want; and, methinks,
it is highly praise-worthy of this good superintendant
of the kingdom, to point out
to the fair creatures, where they may lay
out their money to the most advantage.
They are in one part, strongly assured
of the superior excellence of the goods
at the Pigeons; in another, they are
conjured to buy their stockings at the
Fleece; their shoes, their gloves, nay the
very powder, with which they disfigure
their beautiful hair, are all objects of this
good nobleman’s tender anxiety; indeed,
the proper decoration of their persons,
seems to employ no inconsiderable portion
of his attention; there is no deformity
of the body, no disorder of the
skin, against which they are not here
provided with a remedy. Nor doth
royal dignity itself, disdain to extend its
cares to beautifying and adorning the
female subjects of these realms. You
will, perhaps, smile, to hear of the royal firman’s F6r 75
firman’s being attached to the ladies’ garters?
But there is not a brush for their
nails, nor a soap for their hands, nor a
powder for their teeth, nor wash for their
pretty faces, that is not as highly honoured.
Alas! how much are these females
indebted to a prince, who evinces such
unequalled solicitude for the preservation
of their beauty!

Nor doth the parental care of royalty for
the welfare of the people stop here; their
health is an object of peculiar concern;
innumerable are the lists of medicines, of
approved efficacy, which are here recommended
to the public; I reckoned above
sixty, that had received the royal sanction,
sealed by the royal arms, and mentioned
by royal authority; when we reflect, how
many nauseous draughts, the royal counsellors
must needs have tasted; how many
bitter pills, they, doubtless, must have
swallowed, before they could advise his Majesty F6v 76
Majesty on a subject so important; we
can scarcely refrain from pitying the
situation of those, whose high stations
impose upon them the performance of
such disagreeable duties!!—I could furnish
you with further proofs of the tender
care of this government, for the health
and happiness of its subjects, but am
obliged to leave off, on account of my
visit to Sir Caprice Ardent.

I forget whether I informed you,
that a necessary part of my establishment,
is a carriage. A model of which, I have
this morning purchased for you, at
what is called a toy-shop, that you may
form some idea of the manner in which
the great are drawn about the streets of
this city. Numbers, however, even of an exalted F7r 77
exalted rank, occasionally walk: nor is
it thought any degradation, to make use
of their own legs. I this morning met
the Heir apparent of the throne, walking
on foot, in the very street in which I
live; far from appearing in my eyes as
shorn of his dignity, by thus condescending
to mingle with his people, it shed
upon it, in my opinion, a beam of additional
lustre. Ah! what a transcendent
degree of excellence must we suppose
these highly favoured Princes to possess,
who, together with the dignified sentiments
of their exalted rank, enjoy the
advantages of that instruction, which is
only to be obtained by commerce with
the world! The mirror of truth is set
before them, and, surely, they will never
turn from it to view themselves through
the distorting medium of venal flattery,
and deceitful adulation!!—But, to return
from this digression; I took up Dr. Severan,
according to appointment, and proceeded with F7v 78
with him to the house of the Baronet,
which is situated at the upper end of a
short street, none of the buildings of
which are yet completed; they seem as
if they were intended for houses of very
different sizes and shapes, and at present
have a very strange appearance; but, it
is impossible to form any idea of what
they may be, when finished. The entrance
to the house of Sir Caprice, was
somewhat obstructed by heaps of rubbish,
occasioned, as we soon learned, by
the destruction of a row of pillars, of
Grecian architecture, with which the
hall had been originally graced. These
proud ornaments, which during the short
period of their exaltation, had heard the
lofty roof which they sustained, re-echo
the voices of their flatterers, were on a
sudden, disgraced, dismissed, and hurled
headlong to the ground! Their fall was
like that of the favourites of Princes,
which shakes the throne they once appeared4 peared F8r 79
destined to support. A long train
of dependants were involved in the
mighty ruin, and it was not without some
degree of danger, that, following the servant,
we scrambled through this scene
of desolation, to the apartment of Sir
Caprice
, whom we found seated at a large
table, on which an innumerable quantity
of plans, maps, models of buildings,
and other various ornaments, were heaped.
After reading the letter I had
brought him, congratulating me on my
arrival in England, and enquiring after
the health of Mr. Grey, he turned to
Doctor Severan, and expressed, in strong
terms, the particular pleasure he at that
moment felt in seeing him.—“I know
you are a man of taste,”
.cried he, “and
shall be wonderfully happy to have your
advice on the plan of a new building,
which I intend shall be something very
extraordinary. Here it is,”
continued
he, holding up a small model; “here, you F8v 80
you see, I have contrived to unite all the
orders of architecture in regular gradation;
here, you will please to observe,
that the basis is truly Gothic; above that,
observe the Tuscan; above that, the
Composite, the Corinthian, the Doric,
the Ionic—all placed as they never were
placed before! Still, however, the top
is unfinished; for that I have had many
plans; but, that which pleases me best,
is, the idea of crowning the whole with
a Chinese temple; is it not a good
thought, eh? Perhaps this gentleman,
could furnish me with a hint. Pray Sir,”

turning to me, “has the Emperor of
China
, done any thing new in this way,
of late?”
The philosopher, perceiving my
consusionconfusion, reminded this noble builder,
that I was from Bengal, and had never
been in China in my life. “From Bengal?
Ay, ay, I had forgot; a Hindoo is he?
well, well, perhaps, then, he could give
me a plan of a Mosque, a Minaret, or some G1r 81
some such thing, it would oblige me extremely,
as it would be something quite
new, and uncommon.”
Perceiving that
he waited my answer, I told him, that I
certainly had had many opportunities of
seeing Mosques, some of the most stately
of which, were built from the ruins of
our ancient temples, particularly that at
Benares, the Minarets of which were
esteemed eminently beautiful; but, that
as I had never been in one, I was altogether
unqualified to give an accurate
description of them. “Did not trouble
church much, I suppose, Sir?”
rejoined
he, with an arch smile. “Good heaven!”
cried Severan, “do you not know, that
a Mosque is a Mahommaden place of
worship, and have I not already told you,
that this gentleman is a Hindoo?”
“Ay,
ay, I had forgot, he is a heathen. So much
the better; I shall love him, if he hates
all priests, and priest-ridden fools; I never
knew any good come of either.”
So Vol. II. G saying, G1v 82
saying, he offered me his hand, and shook
mine, in a most cordial manner. He
then renewed his solicitations for the
opinion of Severan, in regard to the
manner in which he should finish his
projected buildingExplanations of the terms of Architecture, &c.
though very necessary to the friends of the Rajah,
it was thought, would be rather tiresome to the
English reader; they are therefore omitted by the
Translator, who has frequently been obliged to
take liberties of the same nature.
(a building for
which, he had not yet fixed upon a
situation); the philosopher eluded any
further dissertations on the subject, with
great dexterity, and finally prevailed
upon him to introduce us to the apartment
of his Lady.

We found Lady Ardent, and her
eldest daughter, in the apartment called
the drawing-room. They were prepared
to go out, and had their carriage waiting G2r 83
waiting for them at the door; but, on
our entrance, politely resumed their seats.
The countenance of neither of these ladies,
exhibited one single line, that could lead
to the development of their characters;
all was placid uniformity, and unspeaking
regularity of feature. “Surely,” said I to
myself, “these women must have arrived
at the very zenith of perfection!”
How
effectually must every passion have been
subdued under the glorious empire of
reason, before they could have attained
such inexpressive indifference? It is true,
that in their eyes, the sparkling chubdar
The servant whose business it is to proclaim
the titles of any great personage.
of intellect, doth not proclaim his
master’s presence—but the apathy which
sits upon their foreheads, speaks in plain
language, their contempt of the world
and its vanities. With them, as with the
beloved of Krishna, pain and pleasure
are as one! The modesty of female bashfulness,G2 fulness, G2v 84
sealed the lips of the young lady,
but her mother enquired after my friend
Grey, if not with affection, at least with
much politeness. She treated me (as
I was told by Doctor Severan) with an
uncommon degree of attention. She
gave me a slip of stiff paper, on which
was marked the 10th day of the next
month, which, I was informed by my
friend, was an invitation to a rout; that
is to say, an entertainment, where a vast
number of rational, wise, and well-informed
votaries of immortality, meet together,
not to converse, but to look at
each other, and to turn over the bits of
painted paper, called cards! After receiving
this mark of her Ladyship’s attention,
we took our leave, and retired.

I was curious to know some further
particulars of a family, whose manners
appeared to me so peculiar; and Doctor
Severan
, whom I have the happiness of 1 seeing G3r 85
seeing every day, has had the goodness
amply to gratify my curiosity. He began
with observing, that “to those who
take pleasure in investigating the phænomena
that fall under their observation,
either mental or material, it is not sufficient
to say that things are so, they
must develope the causes in which they
have originated. As there are few substances
found in a natural state, whose
constituent parts cannot be separated from
each other, by the methods used in chemistry,
so there are few predominant
dispositions of the mind, which may not
be analized, and traced through their
origin and progress by any one who
will give himself the trouble to pursue
the necessary process.

This investigation, if accurately followed,”
continued my friend, “will invariably
lead us to the early education of the
object of it. In it we will commonly G3 find G3v 86
find an explanation of the manner in
which the peculiar combination of ideas
that ultimately forms character, has been
produced; to it, therefore, we must always
recur in our analization of the propensities
and conduct of any individual.

The father of Sir Caprice, was three
times married.—His first wife, who was
the heiress of a wealthy family, died
soon after the birth of a daughter, in
whom, the fortunes of her family are at
present centered.—His second wife, the
mother of Sir Caprice, brought him no
other dower besides beauty, and good
temper. Her premature death, overwhelmed
him in affliction; but, happily,
just as he was erecting a monument to
her memory, in the inscription of which,
he gave notice to the world, that his affections
were for ever buried in her
tomb, a consoling angel appeared to comfort G4r 87
comfort him, in the shape of Lady Caroline
Beaumont
.
This Lady, who brought him only
one daughter, proved an excellent wife,
and would have been one of the best of
mothers to his children, but for a certain
timidity of temper, which restrained her
from exerting authority over the children
of another. From her, therefore,
they met with unlimited indulgence,
that most powerful inflamer of the passions,
in whose high temperature, fortitude
is lost, and selfishness, arrogance,
and pride, are inseparably united.
Their father having a dislike to public
schools, and resolving that his daughter
should share the advantages of a
classical education with his son, provided
them with a tutor at home—the revered
Mr. Ergo
. Well do I remember
him. He afterwards got the living G4 of G4v 88
of our parish, and used to stuff his sermons
with Greek and Hebrew, in such
a manner, as to make the poor people
stare at the depth of his knowledge. In
truth, he was a most profound linguist;
a complete walking vocabulary;—but
of every virtue that dilates the heart, of
every science that expands the soul,
while it enlarges the understanding, he
was completely ignorant. The highest
idea he could form of the efforts of human
intellect, was confined to an accurate
knowledge of nouns, verbs, cases,
and tenses; and, to commit these to the
memory of his pupils, was the chief object
of his solicitude. Unqualified to fix
the generous principle in the ductile
bosom, he attended not to the developement
of mind, but, on the contrary, extoled
as marks of genius, the early whims
and caprices of his pupil, which were, in
reality, the ebullitions of an unregulated
imagination.
“It G5r 89 It is, perhaps, to this want of judgment
in the tutor, that the extraordinary
degree of ardour and unsteadiness, which
has distinguished the Baronet, may, in
some degree, be attributed. A recital of
the various and opposite pursuits, in
which he has been at different times engaged,
will be the best illustration I can
give you of his character, which is such
an one, as, I suppose, your Eastern world
has never produced. He is, however,
by no means, an unique in this part of the
world; where the liberty of committing
every folly that suggests itself to the
fancy, is considered as the most glorious
privilege.

The ardour of Sir Caprice’s mind,”
continued my friend, “was, for the first
two years after his father’s death, expended
upon running horses; at length,
finding himself taken in by his compeers
of the turf, cheated by his grooms, and most G5v 90
most frequently distanced at the post,
he sold his racers, and foreswore Newmarket
for ever.”

Here I was obliged to beg an explanation
from the philosopher, and found,
that it is customary for the great men
in this kingdom, in their exertion of the
privilege hinted at above, to expend immense
sums of money on a very beautiful,
though useless, species of horses.
These animals are, however, doomed to
experience the effects of the capricious
humours of their masters. At one time,
they are considered as the dearest friends,
and most loved companions of their lords,
who are never so happy, as when in
the apartments of their four-legged favourites.
While this fit of fondness lasts,
they are attended by numerous servants,
who, taking consequence from the dignity
of their employment, are at once
the most insolent, and most rapacious of 2 the G6r 91
the domestic tribe. Some of these are
employed in rubbing the skins of the
horses into a beautiful polish, while
others serve them with the choicest food.
Nay, so far does their care extend, that,
as if the clothing of nature were not
sufficient, they provide them with woollen
garments, which completely cover
their whole bodies. Will not Maandaara
think, that the truth hath forsaken his
friend, when I say, that the tormenting of
these unfortunate favourites, forms one
of the chief amusements of the English
nobility? But, so it is;—at certain appointed
periods, they are brought out
in the midst of a concourse of spectators,
stripped of their fine clothing, and
forced to gallop round a certain piece of
ground full speed, while, for the amusement
of their cruel masters, they are
whipped, and even goaded by sharp instruments
of steel, until the blood flows
in streams, from their lacerated bodies, and G6v 92
and this is called sport!—But, to return
to Sir Caprice Ardent. If I rightly remember,
the next pursuit upon which,
according to Doctor Severan’s account,
he employed the vigour of his mind,
was Hunting. Here are no Jungles in
which to pursue the ferocious tyrants of
the forest. Here, courage is not called
forth in the attack of the wild Elephant,
or the roaring Lion. Nor is activity
and watchfulness necessary, to guard
against the sudden spring of the carnage-
loving Tyger. The pursuit of a small
animal, called a Fox, employs the
vigour of the English Hunters. The
mischief, which the Philosopher informed
me, was done by Sir Caprice, and his
friends, in pursuit of this little animal,
I confess, appeared to me altogether
unaccountable. He mentioned their
having spoiled fifteen farms, by breaking
down the fences, and that a young
wood, of great extent, which had been planted G7r 93
planted by his father, was, by the advice
of one of the companions of Sir Caprice,
in order to give free scope to the magnanimous
pursuers of the red fugitive,
burned to the ground. Another consequence
of this diversion, was, to me,
equally incomprehensible. Notwithstanding
the coldness of the climate, it
seems to be productive of the most
astonishing degree of thirst. The sum
of money, which, according to the calculation
of Doctor Severan, was expended
by Sir Caprice, on the wine gulped
down by his companions of the chace,
would, if it had been employed in improving
the uncultivated parts of his
estate, have been sufficient to have made
the barren wilderness, a garden of delights.

“Next to hunting,” said Doctor Severan,
succeeded the love of equipage,
and fine clothes. It was now the
ambition of the Baronet’s heart, to attract the G7v 94
the attention of the Ladies. His ambition
was, perhaps, in no other pursuit
of his life, so fully gratified. Wherever
he appeared, his exquisite taste was the
object of unbounded admiration.

To have a wife, whose beauty would
justify the opinion entertained of his taste,
and who would likewise give him a new
opportunity of displaying it, in the choice
of female ornaments, now engrossed his
cares. Such a one, he soon met with.
You have seen his Lady. She is what
is commonly called, ‘one of the best of women.’
To an evenness of temper, flowing
from insensibility, she adds a strict
observance of all the rules of politeness
and good breeding, taught by that sort
of education given at modern boarding-
schools; which being directed to unessential
forms, and useless accomplishments,
renders the character cold and
artificial. Though incapable of generous
friendship, or heart-warming affection,fection, G8r 95
she is never deficient in the
external ceremonials of respect; and
though she never did a kind or good-
natured thing in her life, the low temperature
of her passions, assists her in preserving
that semblance of placidity,
often, very improperly, called sweetness,
which at all times appears in her countenance.
With a better understanding, she
might, perhaps, have directed the effervescence
of her husband’s disposition to
some useful purpose, and restrained it
within the limits of common sense. As
it is, she contents herself, if, by the assistance
of a ‘little’ cunning, in which women
of this class of intellect are never deficient,
she can work out any ‘little’ end,
to which her ‘little’ selfish mind inclines
her.
“It G8v 96

It would be too tedious,” continued
Severan, “to follow the Baronet through
all the various whims and fancies, in
which his restless spirits have difchargeddischarged
themselves.

The only period in which I ever
knew reading to occupy much of his
time, was, soon after his marriage, when
he took to studying books of education;
and had actually from these composed
a Treatise, for the instruction of his expected
heir; which, however, was forgot
before the child had learned to speak,
for then he had turned improver.
It was then, that the fine grove of
oaks and chesnuts, the massy richness
of whose foliage, served equally to shelter
and adorn his stately mansion, was
levelled to the ground; and every spot
within sight of the windows, metamorphosedmorphosed H1r 97
into a ‘a dry smooth-shaven
green,’
awkwardly sprinkled with knarled
sapplings, and ill-formed clumps of
shrubbery. How far this spirit of improvement
might have led him, it is
impossible to conjecture, for it was still
at its height, when a piece of silver ore,
found by one of the workmen, in digging
a canal, intended to meander through
the grounds, gave a new object to his
ever ardent mind.
For three sleepless nights, his fancy
revelled in all the riches of Peru. Miners
were brought from various parts of the
kingdom, and the greatest encouragement
offered to those who should be
successful in discovering the vein, of the
existence of which, he could not entertain
a doubt. Huge excavations were
made in various directions, all begun in
hope, and ending in disappointment; the
miners, strictly followed the usual exampleVol. II. H ple H1v 98
of our British ministers of state; who,
when they have plunged the nation into
an unnecessary and unsuccessful war, take
care, when the account of defeats comes
from one quarter, to amuse the attention
of the public, with the prospect of better
success in another; and Sir Caprice, like
the honest British people, was too willing
to be deceived, to suffer himself to discover
the trick. At length, finding his
miners grow rich, in proportion as he
grew poor, his patience became entirely
exhausted; and with many execrations on
their knavery, and his own folly, he suddenly
dismissed them all, and set himself
diligently to repair the devastations they
had committed on the face of his estate.
It was this circumstance, which, perhaps,
turned his thoughts to agriculture, which,
as he contrived to manage it, was as unproductive
a folly, as any in which he
has ever yet engaged. With such avidity,
however, did he enter into it, that I well H2r 99
I well remember him walking about
the fields, with a silver spoon in his hand,
to taste the different composts, into the
specific qualities of which, he thought it
necessary to examine; and, ignorant of
chemical process, he trusted to his palate,
for a discovery of the acids or alkalis
they contained. It would seem, that, in
this particular, it had proved a deceitful
guide;—for, notwithstanding his delicacy
of taste, and although he had laid out his
fields in the best method, that the best
theoretical writers had pointed out, he
had the worst crops that were known in
the country; he was, at length, contented
to replace the old tenants in their farms;
and finding his estate considerably incumbered,
by his various schemes of fortune-
making (avarice having now become
the passion which chiefly predominated
in his heart) he resolved for a few years,
to try the economical plan of travelling.
He accordingly set out for the continent, H2 with H2v 100
with his Lady, leaving his eldest daughter
at the most fashionable boarding-
school in London; his second, who had
been adopted from the hour of her birth
by his sister, Miss Ardent, remained
with her; and the youngest, had the happiness
of being received under the roof
of her excellent Aunt, Lady Grey.
Sir Caprice Ardent and his Lady remained
abroad for six years, in the
course of which period, his Lady brought
him three sons; only one of whom survives;
a poor puny boy, so completely
spoiled by indulgence, that there is no
bearing his petulance and prate. During
the residence of our Baronet in Italy, he
gave sufficient proofs to his friends, that
the change of atmosphere, had no effect
on the temperament of his mind. Antiques,
Music, Pictures, Statues, Intaglios,
and even Butterflies, were, in their
turns, the exclusive objects of his attention.tion. H3r 101
The death of a relation, who bequeathed
him a large legacy, brought
him at length back to his country, just
as the rage for building had begun
to occupy his mind. With its effects,
you are sufficiently acquainted; and you
will, probably, before the conclusion of
the summer, see it give place to some
other absurdity, which will be entered
on with equal ardour, managed with
equal skill, and ultimately abandoned
with equal facility.”

“Alas!” cried I, “I find, that folly is a
plant, which flourishes in every clime;
it only differs in the colouring. But if
it is not intruding too far upon your
time and patience, I should be glad to
know, what hue it assumed in the young
Lady who was educated by the same
tutor.”

H3 My H3v 102

My friend willingly gratified my curiosity,
and thus proceeded:

“To the eldest sister of Sir Caprice,
who inherited from Nature a stronger intellect,
and quicker perception than her
brother, the tuition of Doctor Ergo was
attended with more beneficial consequences.
The ancient authors, whose
works were by him put into her hands,
merely as exercises in the dead languages,
attracted her attention. She acquired a
taste for their beauties, and soon became
so addicted to reading, as, at an
early period of life, rendered her mistress
of an extensive degree of information.
But, alas! it is not merely a knowledge
of the facts contained in history, nor a
relish for the beauties of poetic imagery,
nor a superficial acquaintance with any
branch of science, that can effectually
expand the powers of the human mind.
For that great end, the judgment must be H4r 103
be qualified to apply them to useful purposes.
It was this deficiency, which led
Miss Ardent, to value her accidental attainments
at so high a rate, as to make
her despite not only the weaknesses, but
even the domestic virtues of her own sex.
Their occupations and amusements, she
treated with the utmost contempt; and
thought that in this contempt, she gave
the surest proof of the superiority of her
own masculine understanding.

From her mind, though the particles of
vanity were not expelled, they assumed a
new form—instead of the attention to external
beauty, feminine graces, and elegant
manners, the vanity of Miss Ardent appeared
in an affectation of originality of
sentiment, and intrepid singularity of conduct.
In support of this character, she altogether
loses sight of her own, which is
naturally gentle and benevolent; and enforces
her opinions in so dictatorial a manner,H4 ner, H4v 104
as renders her equally the object of
dread and dislike to the generality of her
acquaintance. And, indeed, it must be
acknowledged, that this accomplished
woman, in her eagerness to display the
strength of her mind, too often lays aside
that outer robe of delicacy, which is not
only the ornament, but the armour of
female virtue; and that she never attempts
to shine, without exciting the
alternate emotions of admiration and
disgust.”
“Good heaven,” exclaimed I,
“and is this the consequence of female
learning? is the mind of woman, really
formed of such weak materials, that as
soon as it emerges from ignorance, it
must necessarily become intoxicated with
the fumes of vanity and conceit?”
“And
did your highness never see a male
pedant?”
replied the philosopher. “Did
you never behold a man destitute of
early education, and confined to the society
of ignorant and illiterate people, who H5r 105
who had by some chance, acquired a
knowledge of books; and did he not
appear as proud of his superior information,
as ridiculously vain, as arrogant,
as ostentatious, and conceited, as any
learned Lady that ever lived? or, if a
more phlegmatic temper prevented the
effervescence of vanity from displaying
itself in the same manner, it is ten to
one, that he was still more insufferable
by his dogmatic pedanty and superciliousness.
The reason why such characters
are not so frequently to be met with
amongst men, is, that (in this country at
least) the education of boys is, in some
degree, calculated to open, and gradually
to prepare the mind for the reception of
knowledge; that of girls, on the contrary,
is from their very cradles, inimical to the
cultivation of any one rational idea.

in the mental as in the material world,
similar causes will ever produce similar
effects; let the combination of ideas be attended H5v 106
attended to from the earliest period of
life; let the mind be early taught to
think; taught, to form a just estimate of
the objects, within the reach of its observation;
and appreciating every thing
by its usefulness, led to see, that genius
is less valuable than virtue
, and that the
knowledge of every science, and the attainment
of every accomplishment, sinks
into insignificance, when compared to
the uniform performance of any known
duty. Will the mind, whether it belongs
to male or female, that is thus
prepared, be elated into arrogance, by
learning the opinions of the people of
different ages, even though taught to
read them in the language in which they
were originally written? will it become
less modest, less amiable, less engaging,
for having been enlarged by this extent
of information; or will it be less
qualified for the performance of social
duties, because it has been freed from the H6r 107
the prejudices of ignorance, and taught
to fill its place in the scale of rational
beings? Surely, no; I need only mention
the name of Lady Grey, to give the
fullest proof of the justness of my assertion.
This younger sister of the Ardent’s,
had, under the care of a mother, eminently
qualified for the task, the advantage of
just such an education as I have described;
but though to all the understanding and
accomplishments of her sister, she adds
that brilliancy of imagination, of which
the value is so apt to be over-estimated
by its possessors, she is neither vain,
ostentatious, nor assuming. Accustomed
to compare her actions, not with the
triflers around her, but with the pure
standard of Christian excellence, her
virtues are all genuine. For instance,
the quality of gentleness, which, in woman,
is seldom more than a passive tameness
of spirit, that yields without struggling
to the encroachments of the turbulent1 lent H6v 108
and unworthy, is, in her, the spontaneous
offspring of true humility; it is
the transcript of that wisdom which is
from above, pure, and peaceable, and
lovely!—Modesty is not in her the affectation
of squeamish delicacy—it is the
purity of the heart. Maternal fondness
(and never was the heart of a mother
more tenderly affectionate) is, like every
other affection of her soul, put under the
controul of reason. That blind indulgence,
which would be prejudicial to the
real interests of its object, is, by her, considered
as a selfish gratification, not to
be enjoyed, but at the expence of the
future happiness of her child; it is therefore
wisely restrained, though sometimes
at the expence of present feeling. Such
tenderness, directed by such wisdom, is
the nearest possible imitation of the most
amiable attributes of the divinity!—And
who would put such a woman as this,
in comparison with the most beautiful 2 piece H7r 109
piece of insipid ignorance, that ever
opened its eyes upon the world? Is there
a man, who would prefer the vapid chatter
of a pretty ideot, to the conversation
of such a woman? So good! so wise!
so beautiful! Yes, my noble Rajah, she
is still beautiful! though her eyes have
lost somewhat of that lustre, which, but
a few years ago, was the admiration of all
beholders, they still beam with animation
and sensibility.”
“Ah! my friend,”
cried I, “you need say little to persuade
me of her beauty; the accomplishments
and virtues of an ugly woman, can make
little impression even on the mind of a
philosopher.”
—My friend coloured, but
before he could reply, a loud explosion
from the further end of the room, burst
upon our ears, and filled us with momentary
terror. In discoursing on Lady Grey,
my friend had forgotten the necessary
management of a retort, which, for want
of his attention, burst in pieces. I know not H7v 110
not what were its contents, but they sent
forth such suffocating effluvia, as, had I
not been restrained by politeness, would
quickly have driven me from the room.

When the smoke which followed the
explosion, was somewhat dissipated, I observed
my friend, standing in a melancholy
posture, with clapsed hands, and
fixed eyes, ruminating on the misfortune
that had befallen him. A course of experiments,
the labour of many weeks,
were by this unhappy accident, rendered
abortive; it was a subject that could not
immediately admit of consolation. I
therefore, for some time, preserved the
strictest silence. Just as I was about to
open my lips with the voice of sympathy,
the Philosopher, who had never lifted
his eyes from the remains of the broken
vessel, suddenly clapping his hands together,
exclaimed, in a transport of ecstacy,
“I see it! I see it!—Heavens!
what a discovery!—Never was there so fortunate H8r 111
fortunate an accident!”
I was at first
somewhat afraid that my friend’s senses
had received a shock from this alarming
incident; but was happily relieved from
my apprehensions, on being informed,
that the appearances which the matter,
contained in the retort, had assumed on
its explosion, gave a hint to the Philosopher,
for the explanation of some phænomena
hitherto unaccounted for. In a
moment, that fine countenance (and
never did Brama bestow upon a human
soul, an index so intelligible) which had
been so lately shaded by the cloud of
despondency, was brightened by the
emanations of joy, and irradiated by the
smile of exultation and delight. I was
not sufficiently initiated in science, to be
able to appreciate the value of the discovery,
which gave such ecstatic pleasure
to the mind of the Philosopher; but
contemplated with rapture, the wisdom
of the immortal spirit, who, when he spread H8v 112
spread the volume of Nature before his
rational offspring, passed this unalterable
decree: “That to the mind, devoted
to its perusal, the corrosive passions
should be unknown. That it should have
power to assuage the tumults of the soul;
to foster the emotions of virtue; and to
produce a species of enjoyment, peculiarly
its own!”
—Such, O! Maandaara!
such are the advantages of Science!!

According to appointment, I went,
a few evenings ago, to Lady Ardent’s
rout. Doctor Severan had the goodness
to accompany me; a piece of condescension,
which, now that I know what
sort of a thing a rout is, I cannot but
consider as a very distinguished compliment.

A rout I1r 113

A rout is a species of penance, of
which the pious Yogees of Hindoostan
never conceived an idea; if these people
were not the professors of a religion which
prohibits the worship of the inferior
deities, I should say, it was a sacrifice to
the Goddess of Fashion; a sacrifice not
of the joint of a finger, or a toe, as we are
here told it is the custom to present to
that Goddess in some newly discovered
countries,It is supposed by the Translator, that the
Rajah here alludes to a custom said to be practised
in Otaheite. See Cook’s Voyages.
but of every faculty of the
soul, that distinguishes the rational from
the brute creation. These remain during
the ceremony of the rout, in an absolute
state of suspension. You may imagine, my
dear Maandaara, what a sacrifice this
must be—to people possessed of so much
wisdom, and who are so eminently qualified
for the pleasures of conversation.
What a sacrifice! to be deprived of the Vol. II. I interchange I1v 114
interchange of ideas, of every communication
of sentiment, and every advantage
of understanding, and to be doomed
to sit stiffling in a crowded room, during
the length of an evening, with no other
employment, than that of turning over
little bits of painted paper!

It is not surprising, that in such circumstances
the countenances of these
votaries of fashonfashion, should so frequently
be distinguished by the insipid stare of
vacancy, or the lowering frown of discontent.
For my part, I could not help
pitying them from my very soul; I was
particularly concerned for a group of
young females, who were placed on a
sopha in a corner of the room, and who,
instead of cards, held each in their hand
a small fan, which they from time to
time opened, and again shut in a very
melancholy manner. As I contemplated
their situation with much compassion, wondering, I2r 115
wondering, whether silence had actually
been imposed upon them, as one of the
duties of the ceremony, my feelings
were effectually relieved by the entrance
of three effeminate-looking youths, dressed
in the military habit, whose pale faces
and puny figures, rendered it a matter of
doubt, to which sex they actually belonged,
till one of them being saluted
“Lord”, relieved me from the dilemma.
Whether there was any thing exhilarating
in the perfumes which these Saibs had
plentifully bestowed upon their persons,
I know not; but their appearance seemed
to spread a sudden ray of animation
over the dejected Bibbys, who in a moment,
began to speak to each other with
wonderful loquacity; the fans were opened
and shut, with encreasing celerity.
The Chouries upon their heads, were
with one consent put into motion,
waving like a graceful plumage of the I2 Auney, I2v 116
Auney,A fabulous bird, frequently mentioned by
the Poets of India, as the ambassador of love.
when it carries the messages of
Camdeo; and their eyes, which had
hitherto rolled with languid vacuity, from
one head-dress to another, now turned
their glances towards that part of the
room, where the lady-like gentlemen
stood. Two of these heroes, with a
degree of fortitude, to which many more
gallant-looking men would have been
unequal, turning their backs upon the
fair creatures, who so sweetly solicited
their attention; sat down at a card-table,
each placing himself opposite to a wrinkled
Bibby, old enough to be his grandmother.
The young Lord, either possessing
less resolution than his companions,
or, not considering this sort of penance
necessary for the good of his soul, joined
himself to the fan-playing party of the
young ladies.—Dulness and melancholy, vanished I3r 117
vanished at his approach; every word he
uttered, produced a simper on the pretty
faces of his female audience; the simper,
at length, encreased into a tittering laugh.
Observing that they cast their eyes to
the opposite side of the apartment, I
judged it was some object placed there
that excited their risibility; following the
direction of their glances, I perceived a
Lady with a remarkably pleasant countenance,
who had indeed no chourie upon
her head, and who was in every particular
less disfigured by dress, than any other
person in the room. I was pondering in
my own mind, how this modest and unassuming
personage, could excite the risibility
of the fair group, when a Lady
who had for some time stood near them,
apparently engaged in over-looking a
card-table, turned round, and addressed
them in the following manner: “When
you, my Lord and Ladies, have sufficiently
amused yourselves in ridiculing I3 the I3v 118
the dress of that excellent woman, I hope
you will next proceed to her character.
You cannot do better, than compare
it with your own. I do assure you, her
dress is not so widely different from your’s,
as the furniture of either her head or
heart. That very woman, with her flat
cap and plain petticoat, has an understanding
of the first quality; and a heart
replete with every virtue. While she
has been cultivating the one, and exercising
the other in the noblest manner;
be so good as to ask yourselves, how you
have been employed? but, perhaps, your
observations, like those of a monkey, can
go no farther than the ornaments of the
person? Then, poor things! who can
blame you, for exercising the highest of
intellectual powers; and for asserting your
claim to rationality, though even by the
lowest and most equivocal of its characteristics?”
—You have beheld a flock of
Paroquets basking themselves in the rays of I4r 119
of the sun, all exerting their little throats,
and squalling and chattering with all their
might: when, lo! A Cormorant, or
other bird of prey has made its appearance,
and in a moment, the clamorous
voices of the little green-robed chatterers,
has been hushed in silence—becoming
as mute as the vegetable tribe, under
whose friendly leaves they sought for
shelter.

Such was the effect produced upon the
pretty group of Bibbys, by this unexpected
harangue; and, I confess, I participated
so much in their feelings, that
I was not a little alarmed, when the orator
turning with a look of ineffable contempt
from her dismayed auditors, addressed
herself to me.—Nor did it greatly tend to
relieve me, when I discovered that it was
Miss Ardent, who thus did me the honour
of introducing herself to my acquaintance.
My friend, the Philosopher, had I4 said I4v 120
said enough to frighten me, at the idea
of holding any communication with a
learned Lady
. I found her, however, not
quite so formidable as I had at first apprehended.
She, indeed, soon found
means not only to reconcile me to her
company, but to render it quite charming.
She directed the conversation to
the delightful subject of my dear native
country! at her desire, I described to her
the peculiar charms of the blooming
landscape, whose exhilarating beauties,
gladden the hearts of the happy inhabitants
of Almora. I painted to her imagination
the immeasurable forest, whose
trees have their sky-touching heads overshadowed
by the venerable mountains of
Cummow: I talked of the thundering
torrents which are dashed from the stupendous
rocks, and which, delighted at
their escape from the frozen North,
run to hide themselves in the bosom of
Ganga. I told her of the names which they I5r 121
they assumed upon their rout, expatiated
on the charming banks which adorned
the course of the rapid Gumtry, and
of the playful meanderings of the Gurra.
I had likewise the honour of explaining
to her, the present political state of the
country; it is a subject upon which, since
I have been in England, I have seldom
had any opportunity, and still seldomer
any satisfaction in conversing. In all
that relates to our country, I have indeed
found these western lovers of science,
most deplorably ignorant. You may
believe it impressed me with a very high
idea of the superior powers of Miss Ardent’s
mind, when I found, that she had
paid particular attention to every thing
connected with the history or literature
of India. But even Miss Ardent has her
prejudices, and I did not find it a very
easy matter to convince her, that the
Mahhabaret was superior to the Iliad of
Homer: or that Calidas was a dramatic Poet I5v 122
Poet equal in excellence to Shakspeare.
You will smile at her prejudices; but
consider, my dear friend, what you would
think of the arrogance of any foreigner,
who should have the presumption to put
the works of his countrymen in competition
with those divine Bards, and you will
learn to make allowances for this Lady.
She was surprised to hear that I had not
yet been to see the representation of an
English Natac, here called a play, and invited
me to be of her party, to see the
performance of one of the following evening.
I was charmed with the invitation;
and did not fail in my attendance on
the letter-loving Bibby, at the time appointed.

The building appropriated to this
amusement, belongs to the King, and is
called his Theatre; and to it he sends
his servants for the diversion of the public.
They are not, however, paid by
their Master, but, like all the servants of I6r 123
of the English nobility, are paid by
the visitors
. Nor are they so modest
as some that I have seen, at the royal
palaces and gardens, who never asked for
their wages, until they had gratified my
curiosity; but these, stipulated for a certain
sum, and demanded it before they
permitted me to enter.

My expectations in respect to the
magnificence of the building, and the
splendor of its decorations, were somewhat
disappointed: but upon the whole
it is very well contrived, for seeing and
hearing the performers.—In front of the
stage, is an aisle larger than that in the
church, in which, the people are, however,
treated with more respect, being
all accommodated with seats: and I could
perceive, that here their marked approbation
of any passage, excited some degree
of attention in the great people, who sat
in the little pews above them: and althoughthough I6v 124
among these great people, some
appeared to regard the Natac, as little as
the sermon, talking and whispering, almost
as much at the theatre, as they had
done in church; yet the performance was
here, in general, much better attended to
by all who had the enjoyment of their
senses.—You will think this a strange exception
—but you must know, that a part
of the royal theatre, is peculiarly appropriated
to the reception of a species
of lunatics, called Bucks, who are indeed,
very noisy and troublesome; but
who are treated with an amazing degree of
lenity and forbearance, by the benevolent
people, who bestow upon them the pity
that is due to their unhappy situation.

Great part of the entertainment seemed,
indeed, calculated for their amusement,
as it is well known that the eye
can be gratified by the display of gaudy
colours, even where the mind is destitute 4 of I7r 125
of the gift of reason. This respect to folly,
was, however, in my opinion, carried too
far; and though I should have been well
pleased to have seen the grown children
amused, by the exhibition of a few showy
pictures and other mummery, I could
not approve of turning the infirmities of
old age into ridicule, for their amusement.
I had foolishly thought that all English
plays were like the plays of Shakspeare;
but, alas! I begin to apprehend,
that they are not all quite so good! instead
of those portraits of the passions,
which Nature spontaneously acknowledges
for her own, I only see exaggerated
representations of transient and incidental
folly. Whether it be owing to
the peculiar taste of the exalted Omrah,
whose office it is to examine the merits
of the Natacs that are performed by his
Majesty’s servants, or to the limited genius
appears evident, that all dramatic writers I7v 126
writers in this country, are now confined
to one plot: A foolish old man devoted
to avarice, has a daughter that is petulant
and disobedient, or a son of the same
character; perhaps, two or three of these
old men, differing from each other in
the size and shape of the covering of the
head, called Wigs, are brought into the
same piece, together with an old unmarried
sister, who always believes herself to
be young and handsome. After the
young people have for some time exercised
their ingenuity in deceiving the
vigilance of the old ones, and have successfully
exposed to public ridicule, the
bodily infirmities and mental failings
of their several parents, they are paired
for marriage, and thus the piece concludes.
This composition is called a
Sentimental Comedy, and is succeeded by
what is termed a Farce. In the Farce,
his Majesty’s servants make faces, and
perform many droll tricks for the diversion2 sion I8r 127
of the audience, who seem particularly
pleased with their exertions in this
way, which they applaud with repeated
peals of laughter.—And, surely, it must
be highly gratifying to the imperial
mind, to see the people pleased at so
cheap a rate.

The first time I went to the theatre,
was, as I have already informed you, in
company with Miss Ardent, who was much
disappointed, that the illness of the royal
servants should have prevented the representation
of a new piece, written by an English
officer in the service of the East India
Company
, which, in the opinion of this
Lady, is a piece of much intrinsic merit.
It is taken from the history of Zingis,
and adorned with the terror-striking spirit
of Zamonca, which blazes throughout the
whole of the performance; to me, I must
confess, the presentation of such a piece
would have been more charming, than either I8v 128
either the lesson of morality, given in
the sentimental comedy, or the fooleries
of the farce; but I was informed by
Miss Ardent, that I must be cautious
how I give utterance to such an opinion,
as nothing is now deemed so barbarous
as the energy of good sense.—“If your
highness would have the people of this
country,”
continued she, “entertain a
good idea of your taste, you must give
all your admiration to hollow, but high-
sounding sentiment. Sentiment, and sing-
song, are the fashion of the day. That it
is so, we are much indebted to the care
and talents of our modern Bards, who by
such compositions as the present, spoil
and contaminate the national taste.”

“Pardon me,” cried a gentleman, who
stood by, “but in my opinion, the stage
does not so much form, as reflect the national
taste. Poetry has always reached
her maturity, while her votaries were in
a semi-barbarous state: with the progressgress K1r 129
of civilization, she has gradually declined;
and if we take the rapidity of her
decay in this country as the criterion of
our refinement, we may proudly pronounce
ourselves one of the most polished
nations of the earth!”
Miss Ardent’s
carriage being announced, put an end to
the conversation; but before she stept
into it, she invited me to dine with her
on the following day. “What!” you
will say, “a single, unprotected woman,
invite you to her house?—Shameful violation
of decorum!”
—But consider, my
friend—custom, that mighty legislator,
who issues the laws of propriety to the
different nations of the earth, maketh that
appear amiable and proper in the eyes
of the people of one country, which in
those of another, is criminal and absurd:
and so easily doth custom reconcile us
to her capricious decrees, that I received
the invitation, and went to the house of
Miss Ardent, with as little perturbation Vol. II. K as K1v 130
as if she had been a gentleman in petticoats.

She received me in an apartment devoted
to literature and contemplation,
from which it takes the name of study”;
the walls of the room were lined with
books, all shining in coats of glossy leather,
richly ornamented with leaf of gold.
That pains which in Asia is bestowed
in decorating the illuminated page, being
in England, all given to the outside covering,
which, it must be confessed, gives
to the study a very splendid appearance.

Two gentlemangentlemen had arrived before
me, and were already engaged in conversation.
—These, as Miss Ardent informed
me in a whisper, were great “Critics”.
The word was new to me, and I did not
choose to ask for an explanation, but seeing
a huge book upon the table, which I
knew to be an explainer of hard words, I had K2r 131
I had immediate recourse to it, and found
a Critic to be “a man skilled in the art of
judging of literature.”
What information
might I not expect to receive from such
infallable judges, who, as the subsequent
description informed me, must be qualified
“nicely to discriminate, and ably to
judge, the beauties and faults of writings.”
—The name of a great author,
whose works I had read with satisfaction
and delight, met my ear, and the fire of
expectation was instantly kindled in my
bosom. Conscious that I could only
skim the surface of that ocean of wisdom,
contained in the work of this great moralist,
I now hoped to see such hidden
gems produced to view, as had escaped
my feeble search; but, judge of my
mortification, at being informed only of
the size of his wig!—Both the critics
produced a thousand little instances of the
oddities of his manner, the peculiarity
of his dress, and the irritability of his K2 temper. K2v 132
temper. But as to the excellence of
his precepts, the strength of his arguments,
or the sublimity of his sentiments—
the critics said not a word!

The name of this author led to that
of another—a Poet to whose verses
Miss Ardent gave the epithet of “charming.”
Her learned guests, though, in general,
obsequiously submissive to her
opinion, did not, in this instance, seem to
coincide with her.—But, instead of pointing
out the defects of his composition,
they only mentioned the badness of his
taste, of which they gave an irrefragable
proof, in his preferring a roasted
patatoe to a chesnut!—Miss Ardent, who
did not seem pleased at having the taste
of her favourite poet called in question,
abruptly turned the conversation, and
addressing herself to me, told me, she
should soon have the pleasure of introducing
me to some gentlemen of distinguishedtinguished K3r 133
talents and acknowledged
merit, whose names I had probably
heard.‒‒‒She then mentioned three of
the most celebrated writers of the present
day, every one of whose works I
had had the advantage of reading with
Delomond, in the course of our voyage.
While she yet spoke, the Chubdar re-
echoed the names of these celebrated
men; they entered, and paid the tribute
of respect to this patroness of science,
who, when she was seated among them,
appeared in my eyes, like the Goddess
Serreswatti, surrounded by the gems of
the court of Vicramaditya.

Think, Maandaara! think, what I must
have felt, at the sight of four live authors!
You may well believe, that I could not
find myself in the immediate presence of
so many learned personages, without experiencing
a considerable degree of agitation.
I remained immersed in silent K3 awe, K3v 134
awe and breathless expectation. “Surely,”
said I to myself, “the conversation of men
who are capable of writing books, must
be very different from that of common
mortals!”

One of them opened his mouth‒‒‒I
listened with avidity‒‒‒and heard‒‒‒that
the morning had been remarkably rainy.
‒‒‒“How beautiful is this condescension,”
said I again to myself, “in one so wise!”‒‒‒
The Chubdar again entered, it was to
announce that the dinner was upon the
table. I followed Miss Ardent and her
learned guests into the apartment destined
for this repast, where, according to the
barbarous custom of the country, they
sat down to eat at one table, and confined
their conversation while they remained
at it, to eulogiums on the good
things set before them, of which, in compliment
(no doubt) to the mistress of
the feast, they devoured a goodly quantity.tity. K4r 135
While they were thus employed,
I retired to a sopha at the other end of
the room, where I contemplated with
astonishment, how much men of genius
could eat. At length, the long-protracted
feast was finished, the mangled
remains of the bipeds and the quadrupeds,
the fishes of the sea, the vegetables of
the earth, and the golden fruits of the
garden, were carried off by the domestics;
a variety of wines supplied their places
upon the table‒‒‒the liquid ruby flowed,
and these disciples of the poet of Shiraz
seemed to unite with him in regard
to the sovereign efficacy of the sparkling
contentsThe allusion is taken from one of the odes of
Hasir
, which, as it does not appear among those
selected by Mr. Nott, for his very elegant Translation,
we think the following literal one, may
not prove unacceptable:
“1. The season of spring is arrived, let the sparkling
goblet go round!
2. Seize 2. Seize, O ye youths, the fleeting hour, and enjoy
the extatic delight of the company of the
fawn-eyed daughters of love.
3. Boy! fill out the wine, and let the liquid ruby
flow, for it is it alone that poureth the oil of
gladness into the hearts of the unfortunate, and
is the healing balm of the wounds of the afflicted.
4. Leave the corroding thorns of worldly cares, and
the anxiety of ambition, to immortalize the
names of Cyrus and Alexander.
5. Let me indulge in my favourite wine, and see
which of us shall soonest obtain the object of
his desires.
6. Let mine ear listen to the melody of the lute and
the cymbal, and mine eyes be charmed with
the fair daughters of Circassia.
7. Go, O my soul, and give thyself to joy, for it is
needless to anticipate to-day the sorrows of tomorrow.”
of the goblet.

So K4 K4v 136

So much has been said and sung on
the inspiring powers of wine, that I
anxiously watched its effects on these
men of learning.‒‒‒But, unfortunately
for wit and me, no sooner were the
bottles set upon the table, than the subject
of politics was introduced: a subject which K5r 137
which to me, is ever dull and barren of
delight. To Miss Ardent, it appeared
otherwise; she entered with warmth and
energy into the discussion, and spoke of
ministers and their measures, of the
management of wars, and the interests
of nations, in such a decisive manner, as
proved her qualified to become the Vizir
of an Empire.

Not seeing the conversation likely to
take a turn to any other subject, and considering
that the presence of a stranger
might throw some restraint on the discussion
of affairs of state, I took my
leave; and must confess, that I returned
from this banquet of reason, not
altogether satisfied with my entertainment.

As after having lost a game at Chess,
it is my custom to ponder on the past
moves, until I find out the false step that led K5v 138
led to my defeat, so do I ruminate on the
disappointment of expected felicity, till I
make a discovery of the source from which
it has flowed. In doing so, I am almost
always certain of seeing it traced to the
fallacy of ill-grounded expectation. “Why,”
said I, should I have expected more from
an author, than from any other man of
sense? When a man has given his thoughts
a form upon paper, and submitted them
in that shape to the perusal of the world,
is he from thenceforth to be obliged to
speak in laboured sentences, and to utter
only the aphorisms of wisdom?”
Carrying
my reasonings upon this subject a
little farther, I was almost tempted to
conclude, that the manners of even a female
author, might not differ much from
that of other women!—but this, you will
think, was carrying the matter rather
too far.

The K6r 139

The amiable, the engaging Delomond,
has this morning left us. His
departure is like a dark cloud, which in
early spring deforms the face of nature,
and checks the gaiety of the season with
the sudden chill of a wintery storm. It
has particularly affected me, as it has at
once shut the prospect of prosperity,
which, as I had flattered myself, was fast
opening on my friend, and deprived me
of the sunshine of his presence. But,
perhaps, my disappointment with regard
to the success of Delomond, is more in
proportion to the eagerness of my wishes,
than to the solidity of my hope. The
mind, which, like the delicate leaves of
the Mimora, shrinks from every touch,
is ill calculated to solicit the assistance of
the powerful, or gain the favour of the
great. The very looks of the prosperous,
it construes into arrogance; and is
equally wounded by the civility which appears K6v 140
appears to condescend, and by the insolence
which wears the form of contempt.

From all these multiplied mortifications,
some, perhaps, real, and some only imaginary,
has Delomond hastily retired; and
relinquishing the pursuit of fortune, and
the pleasures of society, devotes his future
life to the indolent repose of obscurity.
But, alas! how shall he, who
was discomfited by the first thorny
branch which hung across the path of
fortune, struggle through the sharp briers
of adversity?—Can a mind, formed for
the happiness of domestic life, endowed
with such exquisite relish for the refined
enjoyment of taste and sentiment, find
comfort in a joyless state of solitude; or,
what is worse than solitude, the company
of the rude and ignorant?—Ah! my
amiable friend, thou wilt find, when it
is too late, that the road to happiness is K7r 141
is not to be entered by the gate of fastidious
refinement.

The first care that occupied my mind,
after my arrival in London, was, to procure
a safe conveyance for the presents
which I had intended to lay at the feet
of the sister of Percy.

I have just received an answer to the letter
that accompanied them.—It is such as
I should have expected from her who
was worthy the esteem of such a brother.
But, alas! it is written with the pen of
sorrow, and blotted by the tears of affliction.
The amiable old man, who supplied
to her the place of a father, who
loved her with such tenderness, and was
beloved by her, with such a degree of 3 filial K7v 142
filial affection, is gone to the dark mansions
of death. She has left the happy
abode of her infancy, and her dwelling
is now among strangers.—This she particularly
deplores, on account of depriving
her of the power of shewing the sense
she entertains of my friendship to her
brother, in any other way than by words
alone. Her expressions of gratitude
have the energetic eloquence of genuine
sensibility; they are greatly beyond what
I have merited; but, when I consider the
tender reflections that excited them‒‒‒
my heart melts into sympathy.

Alas! it is easy to perceive, that this
amiable young woman is not to be numbered
with the happy. Perhaps, her
present situation is peculiarly unfortunate.
Perhaps, she has there been destined
to experience the cold reception,
the unfeeling neglect, of some little, narrow,
selfish mind, to whose attentions she K8r 143
she had been particularly recommended
by her departed relatives. Perhaps,
some friend of her brother.‒‒‒But, no;
the real friends of Percy, were like himself,
noble, generous, and good. Far from
being capable of dishonouring the memory
of their friend, by neglecting to
perform the rites of hospitality to his
sister, they have taken an interest in her
feelings, and by the acts of kindness and attention,
have endeavoured to promote
her happiness. And surely, for no act
of kindness can the sister of Percy, be
ungrateful to the friends of her brother!

The loss of Delomond, and the melancholy
letter of Miss Percy, dwelt
upon my spirits, and sunk them to a
state of unusual depression. I spent the
night in sadness, and early in the morning,
went in search of my friend, the philosopher,
whose conversation is to me, as
the rod of Krishna, which no sooner 1 touched K8v 144
touched the eyes of Arjoon, than he saw
the figure of truth, as it appears unto the
Gods themselves. This amiable friend,
had of late been so much engrossed by
his scientific pursuits, that I had enjoyed
little of his company. He received me
with an air of unusual vivacity. “When
I last saw you,”
said he, “I am afraid I
must have appeared strangely inattentive;
but, in truth, my mind was at that time
very much embarrassed, and almost solely
occupied on a subject, which I did not
then choose to speak of, but which I shall
now fully explain. You must know, that
I had lately entered on a course of experiments,
more interesting than any in
which I have ever yet engaged, and from
which, I had no doubt, a most important
discovery would result. I found it,
however, altogether impossible to go on
without the assistance of an additional
apparatus, the price of which was far
more than I could afford. It was fifty pounds? L1r 145
pounds? Little less than a quarter of a
year’s rent of my whole estate! What
was I to do? bespeak it of the artizan,
without having the money ready to pay
for it? This would be nothing less than
an act of wilful dishonesty, for dishonesty,
either to oneself or others, running in
debt always is.

Could I hope to save it by retrenching
any of my ordinary expences? I calculated
every thing, even to living on
bread and water, but found it impossible.
I had, then, nothing for it, but to relinquish
my plan entirely, and since I could
not carry it on myself, to communicate
my ideas upon the subject to some more
opulent philosopher, by whose means the
benefit of the discovery might be still given
to the world.”
“Ah! my friend,” interrupted
I, “I now see that you have no
regard for me, or you would have given
me the enviable pleasure, the delight of Vol. II. L being L1v 146
being able to say to myself, that I too,
ignorant as I am; I too have contributed
my feeble aid to the advancement of
Science, and the benefit of Society.”

“You are very good,” returned the
Doctor, “and, I have no doubt of your
generosity. But, as the action of heat
evaporates fluids, so does the borrowing
of money, in my opinion, destroy the independence
of the soul: that independence,
which gives life and energy to
virtue, without which, it becomes incapable
of being exerted to any truly useful
purpose. No; what I cannot effect
by the means which Divine Providence
has put into my power, I think is not
intended by Providence that I should
effect at all.

I was therefore quietly employing
myself in unfixing that great retort; when
this morning, a letter was brought me
from my agent in the country, informing me L2r 147
me of his having obtained for me, from a
neighbouring ’Squire, the sum of fifty
pounds; for damages done me, by taking,
through mistake, a piece of my ground
into one of his inclosures. Which sum,
he inclosed to me in a letter. Thus,
you see, my dilemma is quite at an end.
I shall now go on with spirit; and as I
need lose no more time, I am just going
into the city, to give the necessary directions
to the work-people; who, if they
are any way diligent, may have the whole
apparatus completely finished in a week.”

As he spoke, I contemplated with delight,
the glow of pleasure which animated
his finely expressive countenance;
a pleasure so different from the sparkling
extacy of passion, that merely to
have beheld it, would have been sufficient
to convince the most devoted sensualist
of the superiority of mind, over every
enjoyment of mere sense.

L2 Having L2v 148

Having accepted my offer of attending
him, we were just about to depart,
when, prevented by the entrance of a
Lady, whose air and manner had in them
somewhat so interesting, that the unseasonableness
of the interruption was soon
forgotten. Grief and anxiety were painted
on her countenance. Every feature
was labouring with ill-suppressed emotion,
and when she attempted to speak,
the tremor of her voice prevented her
words from being distinctly heard. I,
however, soon gathered from her broken
sentences, and the sympathetic replies of
the philosopher. That she was the wife of
an old school-fellow, one of his early and
esteemed friends—That she had been born
to affluence, but forfeited the favour of
her family by her marriage; her husband
having virtue and talents, but no fortune.
His talents, however, had been turned to
good account; he had employed himself
in drawing plans of the estates of the 2 affluent, L3r 149
affluent, which his taste taught him to
embellish in such a manner, as gratified
the vanity of his employers, by the admiration
it excited. He was contented
with the profit, while they enjoyed the
praise.

“We were doing charmingly,” said
the Lady, “and had the prospect of soon
getting above the world, and paying
off all the little debts, which at our first
setting out in life, necessity had compelled
us to contract. When, in the beginning
of last Summer, my husband was seized
with a fever, which lasted seven weeks;
and left him so weak, that many more
elapsed, before he was able to go abroad.
During that time, he lost some of his
most advantageous situations; gentlemen
who had employed him, having in the
time of his illness, contracted with others.
Winter came on, and no funds were provided
against its wants; my husband, L3 whose L3v 150
whose tenderness and affection for his
family, seemed to be encreased by the
difficulty he found in procuring their
support, had a genius fruitful in resources.
In those months, when the season necessarily
put a stop to his employments, he
wrote for the printer of a periodical
publication, in which work, he taught
me to assist him; and thus by our united
endeavours, we contrived still to keep
up a decent appearance; and to maintain
with frugality our four little ones, whose
innocent endearments repaid all our
trouble, and made us when we sat down
to our little meal, forget the labour by
which it had been earned. Ah! my
poor babes! it is your sufferings, that,
more than his own, now wrings your
father’s heart!”

“But where is now my friend?” interrupted
Severan. “Is he well? What can
I do to serve him? Where can I see him?”
“Alas! L4r 151
“Alas! he is in prison!” returned the
Lady. “He is in a loathsome, dismal
prison!—deprived of light, of liberty, of
every comfort, and enjoyment; and his
dear children, his pretty darlings, of whom
he used to be so fond, they too must go,
must be nursed in the abode of misery,
and made familiar with every species of
wretchedness!”
—Here tears came to her
relief, and for some time choaked her
utterance.

At length, recovering herself, and assuming
an air of dejected composure,
“I beg your pardon,” continued she,
(observing the marks of sensibility, that
overspread the benignant countenance of
our friend) “I did not mean to distress
you, but it is so few that can feel for one’s
affliction!—and the voice of sympathy
is so grateful to the wounded heart—that
I could not deny myself the consolation
of speaking to you. But things may yet L4 go L4v 152
go better—My husband has enough owing
to him, to enable him to pay every
one. But the misfortune is, that his
debtors are all people of fortune, whose
favour would be for ever lost, by an untimely
application for money; and should
the news of his having been imprisoned
for debt, once get abroad, he is ruined
for ever! No person of fashion will ever
employ him more!”

“I cannot think so,” said the Doctor,
with his wonted mildness; “we see daily
instances of the high favour that is shewn
to people of ruined circumstances; many
of whom I have known, even when
worthless and depraved, to meet with attention
and support, from people, of elevated
rank and fashion?”

“Ah! Sir,” replied the Lady, “these
were people who had squandered their
fortunes in luxury and dissipation; such, indeed, L5r 153
indeed, seldom fail to meet with patrons
and benefactors; but, it is far otherwise
with the poor man, who has been struggling
with adversity, and employing his
efforts, for the maintenance of a virtuous
wife and family: when he fails, he is considered
as an object unworthy of notice;
his situation, creates no interest. His
wretchedness, excites no commiseration.”

“But your own family, my dear Madam
—they have it in their power to extricate
you from every difficulty; will you permit
me to apply to them in your behalf?”

“Alas! Sir,” I fear it would be in
vain, “they are too fond of money, to
give it to those who have none. You know
how I offended them by my marriage;
yet, had my husband succeeded in the
world, and made a fortune, mine would
not have been withheld from him. It
would have been given, if we had not
wanted it; but, now that we are reduced to L5v 154
to poverty, I have no hopes of assistance,
from any of my friends. Yet would I
thank you, for making a trial of an application
to them, if they were in town—
but they are not. They are all at
York, except one Aunt, who is, indeed,
very rich; she is also very religious and
very charitable, but makes it a rule,
never to give assistance to any, who are
not of her own sect.”

“Then,” cried Severan, with unusual
warmth, “whatever are her professions,
she is a stranger to the religion of Jesus
Christ
! But, you have not told me the
amount of the debt, for which your
husband is confined; is it not considerable?”

“Alas! yes,” returned the Lady. “It
is more than forty pounds, and, what
with the bailiff’s and the jailor’s fees, will L6r 155
will, I dare say, arise to little less than
fifty!”

“Fifty pounds!” repeated the philosopher.
“And fifty pounds would release
your husband from a jail. Fifty pounds
would restore a father to his infant family,
and make the heart of a virtuous
woman rejoice. It is the noblest of all
experiments!‒‒‒And detested be the
pursuit, that would stand in the way of
the happiness of a fellow-creature.
My good Madam,”
continued he, addressing
himself to the Lady, who looked
astonished at the incoherence of his expressions,
“you must know, that I this
morning made a mistake; I thought that
Providence had sent me fifty pounds, to
enable me to pursue a philosophical discovery,
on which I had vainly set my
heart; but I now find, it was for a nobler
purpose; it was to contribute to the
happiness of an unfortunate family; here it L6v 156
it is; and all I desire, is, that you would
consider me only as the agent, and keep
your thanks for him who sent it.”

The various emotions of astonishment,
doubt, gratitude, and joy, which took
possession of the poor Lady’s bosom,
struggled for utterance, and at length
found vent in tears.

The effect upon my feelings, was too
powerful to be supported. I left the
room, and when I returned, found my
friend advising with the Lady, on the
steps necessary to be taken for her husband’s
release. I had from the commencement
of our acquaintance, regarded
the philosopher as the first of human
beings. I now looked up to him as
something more. To help a fellow-
creature in distress, is the instinctive impulse
of benevolence; but to sacrifice for
the good of others, the darling pursuit of L7r 157
of one’s life! to give up on that account
the favourite, the cherished object of one’s
mind! this belongs only to the philosophy
of Jesus. It was now, that I understood
what cutting off the right hand,
and plucking out the right eye, truly
meant. But ah! my friend, if this is
really the religion of Christ, how falsely
are people often called Christians!

On the arrival of the man of the law,
whom the Doctor had sent for to conduct
the business, we all set out with the
Lady, for the place of her husband’s
confinement.

When we arrived at the great, gloomy
mansion, Doctor Severan, thinking it
indelicate to go immediately into the presence
of his friend, sent his lawyer with
the lady, to inform her husband of his
liberation, and in the mean time, indulged
my curiosity with a sight of the prison.

You L7v 158

You have seen the dungeons in which
the Mussulmans confine their malefactors,
and in which their prisoners of war are
often doomed to suffer the lingering torture
of despair; to inhale the noxious
vapours of pestilence, and to pine in all
the miseries of disease and famine. But
after what I have said of Christian charity,
you will, no doubt, think it impossible
that in a Christian country, similar
places should be found. This, indeed, at
first sight, appears very inexplicable; but
it only serves to confirm me in the truth
of my former conjecture, respecting a new
revelation
, a supplementary code of Christian
laws and Christian precepts, which,
in many respects, must very essentially
differ from the old one.

In this new gospel, I have every reason
to believe, from all that I have observed
since my abode in England, that poverty
is considered as one of the most heinous of crimes. L8r 159
crimes. It is accordingly by the Christians
of the new system
, not only stigmatised
with a degree of infamy, but by their very
laws, and under the immediate inspection
of their sage magistrates, it is punished
in the most exemplary manner. The
abhorence in which this crime is held by
those Christian legislators, is, indeed, evident
throughout the tenor of their laws.

Can a person contrive by villainy, to
possess himself of the estate of another,
provided it can be clearly proved, that
poverty had no share in instigating him to
the offence, the law is satisfied with
simple restitution. But, should a poor
starving wretch, put forth his audacious
hand to satisfy the calls of hunger, or still
the clamorous demands of an infant family,
he is condemned to death, or
doomed to everlasting wretchedness. You
who are prejudiced in favour of the
mild ordinances of our revered Pundits, will, L8v 160
will, perhaps, think it unjust, that to the
miserable mortal who steals the value of
twenty rupees, and to him who boldly
ventures on plundering the wealth of a
family, adding murder to the crime of
robbery, the same punishment should be
allotted; but, you will admire the principle
upon which the laws of these new
Christians in this case proceeds. It throws
the crime of poverty into the scale, which
instantly settles the balance.

Even when poverty constitutes the
sole offence, nothing is more equitable
than the punishments which proceed in
regular gradation, and correspond in exact
proportion to the degree in which the
crime exists, For instance, within the
massy walls of this prison, whose iron
gates open to receive the reeking murderer,
the midnight thief, and all those
miserable out casts of society, who, lost to
every principle of shame, every feeling of M1r 161
of humanity, have sunk into all the brutality
of vice; those guilty of the crime
of poverty, are likewise immersed. But
think not that they are all equally wretched.
No; those who can afford to defraud
their creditors, are suffered by
these wise legislators, to live in a degree
of luxury. Those who can save enough
from the wreck of former times, to pay
for their accommodation, may still enjoy
some comparative degree of comfort.
But, it is those wretches who have lost
their all, and are alike destitute of friends
and fortune—it is they who are doomed
to suffer the bitterness of confinement, in
all its horrors.

It is true, that some who follow the
old system of Christianity, as it was
taught by Jesus Christ and his Apostles,
by whom poverty is not considered as
so unpardonable a crime, have exerted
their endeavours for relieving the sufferingsVol. II. M ings M1v 162
of their fellow-creatures, who for
small sums, are shut up in these dreary
abodes of wretchedness. But notwithstanding
their endeavors, notwithstanding
the zealous efforts, the heart-touching
remonstrances of one of these Christians
of the old school, who devotes his
life to the children of misfortune;We suppose the Rajah points at the benevolent
exertions of Mr. Howard.
still
in these prisons, many thousands of the
inhabitants of this land of freedom, are
left to pine out a miserable existence,
alike useless to themselves and to society.
Many, at whose birth the voice of congratulation
has been raised, and over
whose infant forms, the tears of parental
tenderness have been fondly shed, are
here suffered to languish, unnoticed and
unknown.

As for those wretches who have committed
such offences against society, as all M2r 163
all nations upon earth have deemed criminal,
they are here held in such just
abhorrence, that it is not thought sufficient
to visit their sins with mere temporal
punishment
, but every possible pains is
taken to preserve them in such a state of
wickedness, as may give them every
possible chance of being, according to the
faith of the lawgivers, miserable to all
eternity
.

This, you may, perhaps, esteem rather
an unjustifiable degree of severity.—But
consider, O benevolent Maandaara, that
by the old Christian Shaster, none are
excluded from the hopes of mercy, who
seek it by sincere repentance. Now
nothing is more probable, than that many
of those miserable beings, who have been
unwittingly swept into the torrent of vice,
might, when they find themselves shipwrecked
on its barren shores, gladly
listen to the voice that would conduct M2 them M2v 164
them to the paths of peace and virtue.
If kept in a state of separation from the
bad, and favoured with means of instruction
from the good, this would, no doubt,
often be the case. But then consider
what might be the consequence: perhaps,
some of these vile felons might
come to have a higher seat in Heaven,
than some of the proud, and jealous guardians
of the laws, which had condemned
them upon earth. The idea is not to be
endured with patience! and to prevent
any possibility of its being realized, the
poor trembling wretch, new to vice, and
whose mind is not yet hardened in iniquity,
no sooner commits (or is said to have
committed) the most trifling offence,
that stands within the cognisance of the
law, than, hurled into the society of those
veterans in sin, of whose repentance there
is little reason to be afraid, the unfortunate
offender is gradually trained to an
equal degree of depravity.

Thus, M3r 165

Thus, the door of mercy is for ever
shut; the returning path to virtue is
barricaded, and so filled up by the
briers and the thorns, which these new
Christians have thrown in the way, that
it becomes quite invisible; and lest reflection
should point it out, intoxicating
liquors are allowed in all prisons to be
distributed in sufficient quantities, to prevent
the most distant apprehensions of
such an event. Thus do these enlightened
people, exert their endeavours to fill
the regions of Nareyka!!

As for the philosopher, who, I need
not tell you, is a Christian, according to
the old Gospel, he deprecates the whole
system, and was so much shocked at the
sight of the young victims, who are here
devoted to vice, in order that they may
be afterwards immolated on the altars of
justice; that no cordial less powerful M3 than M3v 166
than the sight of the happiness he had
himself created, would have had efficacy
to restore his mind to any degree of
composure.

Before I conclude this epistle, I must
entreat you, to send for the good and
pious Bramin Sheermaal;—tell him, that
my heart reproaches me, for the injustice
I was guilty of towards him; I implore
his pardon, for the incredulity with which
I regarded his account of the conduct of
Christians.—Experience has now taught
me, to acknowledge, that his words were
dictated by truth, and his observations
emanated from wisdom!

All that I have written, thou wilt not,
perhaps, think it proper to read to Zamarcanda;
many parts of it, she certainly
could not understand; but, I request, thou
wouldst assure her, that the love of her brother M4r 167
brother is undiminished.—I embrace my
son—and implore upon him, the blessing
of all the benignant Dewtahs!—May
the fortunes of Maandaara, be established
for ever!—What can I say more?

M4 Letter M4v 168

Letter XIV.

Since I last took up the reed of friendship,
my heart has been fretted with
vexation, and my soul chilled with
astonishment. Will the friend of Zaarmilla
believe it possible, that I should
have found fraud and falsehood, venality
and corruption, even in that court-
protected vehicle of public information,
that pure source of intelligence, called a
Newspaper?

The manner in which I made the disagreeable
discovery, was, to me, no less
extraordinary, than the discovery itself.
I went, as usual, yesterday morning, to
spend an hour at the neighbouring coffeehouse,
and, on entering it, was surprised
to find myself the object of universal attention.3 tention. M5r 169
Every eye was turned towards
me; some few seemed to regard me with
a look of contempt; but the general expression
was that of pity and compassion.
I had advanced to a box, and called for
a newspaper, but was hesitating whether
I should retire, or stay to peruse its contents;
when a gentleman, whom I observed
to eye me with particular eagerness,
approaching me with much formality,
begged leave to enquire, whether
I was indeed the Rajah of Almora, a
native Prince of Rohilcund? On being
answered in the affirmative, the gentleman,
again bowing to the ground, thus
proceeded: “I hope your highness will
not attribute it to any want of respect,
that I have thus presumed to intrude myself
into your presence. I entertain too
much respect, for whatever is illustrious
in birth, or honourable in rank, or dignified
in title, or exalted in authority, to
do any thing derogatary to its greateness. I am M5v 170
I am but too conscious of the prejudice
which your highness must inevitably entertain
against this nation, to hope that
you will look upon any individual
belonging to it, without suspicion
and abhorrence! But I hope to convince
you, in spite of the reasons you
have had to the contrary, that we are
not a nation of monsters. Some virtue
still remains among us, confined to me,
and my honourable friends, it is true;
but we, Sir, are Englishmen. Englishmen,
capable of blushing at the nefarious
practices of delegated authority. Englishmen,
who have not been completely
embowelled of our natural entrails; our
hearts, and galls, and spleens, and livers,
have not been forcibly torn from our
bodies, and their places supplied by
shawls and lacks, and nabob-ships, and
dewannes! We have real hearts of flesh
and blood, within our bosoms. Hearts,
which bleed at the recital of human misery, M6r 171
misery, and feel for the woes of your unhappy
country, with all the warmth of
unsophisticated virtue.”
Perceiving my
intention to speak, “I know, Sir, what
you would say,”
cried he, with vehememence:
“You would tell me, that your hatred
to the English race, was founded in
nature and in justice.‒‒‒You would tell
me, that it is we who have desolated your
Empire, who have turned the fruitful and
delicious garden of Rohilcund, into a
waste and howling wilderness.‒‒‒We, who
have extirpated the noble race of warriors,
who were your kind protectors! your indulgent
lords! your beneficent friends!—
to whom you paid a proud submission; a
dignified obedience; a subordination more
desirable than the tumultuous spirit of the
most exalted freedom!”
Again I attempted
to speak.—“Ah!” cried he, in
a still louder tone, “you need not describe
to me, the ravages you have seen
committed! the insults you have sustained!ed! M6v 172
You need not tell me, that your
friends have been slaughtered; your
country plundered; your houses burned;
your land laid waste; your Zenana dishonoured;
and the favourite, the lovely,
the virtuous wife of your affections, perhaps,
torn from your agonizing bosom!”

This was a chord not to be touched, even
by the rude hand of a stranger, without
exciting a visible emotion. “I see the
subject is too much for you,”
cried he,
“it is too fraught with horror, to be surveyed
with indifference. Nature sickens
at the recollection, but you need say no
more; depend upon it, I shall make
a proper representation of your case.
Through me, your wrongs shall find a
tongue. I will proclaim to the world,
all that I have heard you utter. That
mass of horrors, that system of iniquity,
which your highness would describe, shall
be laid open to the eye of day, and its
wicked, nefarious, abominable, and detestedtested M7r 173
author, exposed to the just indignation
of the congregated universe!”
—At
these words, again bowing to the ground,
he turned round, and departed. As I
had no doubt of the unhappy man’s
insanity, I exceedingly rejoiced at his departure,
and that he had done no mischief
to himself or others, during this
paroxysm of delirium.

Among the crowd, which the vociferation
of this unhappy maniac had attracted
round us, I perceived one of the gentlemen
I had met at Miss Ardent’s; and
was happy to take the opportunity of
renewing our acquaintance. From him I
learned, that the notice of the noisy orator,
had been drawn upon me, by a paragraph
inserted in a newspaper of that morning,
which, after mentioning my name, and
describing my person, falsely and wickedly
insinuated, “that I had come there on
behalf of the Hindoo inhabitants of Bengal,
to complain of the horrid cruelties, and M7v 174
and unexampled oppression, under which,
through the mal-administration of the
British governor of India, we were
made to groan.”

I was exceedingly shocked at the
idea of the consequences, that might
arise to the chosen servant of the
minister, the writer of the newspaper,
from having suffered himself to be thus
imposed upon. I did not know what
punishment might await the confidential
conductor of this vehicle of intelligence,
should his master discover that he had
suffered a falsehood to polute that pure
fountain of public instruction, in which
his care for the morals, the virtue, the
fortune, the health, and the beauty of all
the subjects of this extensive Empire, is
so fully evinced. The gentleman observing
my anxiety, told me, that the
best method of proceeding, was, to authorise
the publisher to contradict the
paragraph alluded to in the next paper. And M8r 175
And that he would, if I chose it, go then
with me to his house.

Eager to extricate the poor man
from the dilemma into which his ignorance
had thrown him, I gladly accepted
the friendly offer, and we proceeded
immediately to the office of
this prime minister of fame, who received
us with all the stateliness which
an idea of the consequence of situation
never fails to inspire. The gentleman
took upon himself to open the business;
which he did, by saying, “that he had
brought with him a stranger, of high
rank, who considered himself aggrieved
by a paragraph, which had been that
morning inserted in his paper;”
and then
pointing it out, he told him, “that I would
expect to see a contradiction of that part
of it, which related to the British governor
of India, for whom I entertained
sentiments of the most profound
respect.”
The conductor shrugged up his M8v 176
his shoulders, and said, “the paragraph
had been paid for.”
ThaThat is to say, the
contradiction of it must be paid for likewise,”
returned the gentleman. “I dare
say, the Rajah will have no objection.”

Observing the astonishment that was
painted in my countenance, he told me,
that nothing was more commonly practised.
“Yes,” added the news writer, “the
gentleman must certainly allow, that
when a falsehood has been paid for, it is
not reasonable to expect, that it can be
contradicted for nothing!—It would be
quite dishonourable!”
“What!” cried I,
with an emotion no longer to be suppressed,
“and is it then in the power of a
piece of gold, to procure circulation to
whatever untruths the base malignity
of envy or of hatred may choose to
dictate? Are these the articles of intelligence,
diffused at such vast expence,
over this Christian kingdom? Ah! ye
simple people! whom distance has happily
preserved in ignorance of the ways of N1r 177
of news writers, how little do ye know
the real value of what ye so liberally pay
for!”

So much was I disgusted, that if my
own character alone had been concerned,
I would rather have submitted to the
evil, than to the remedy.—As it was, I
threw down the guinea and departed,
with rather less reverence for the authenticity
of newspaper intelligence, than I
had entertained at my entrance.

The disagreeable consequences of this
affair, have not stopped here; I can no
longer stir abroad, without attracting the
gaze of observation.‒‒‒Places of public
entertainment are filled by the bare expectation
of beholding me; all those
of resort, in the out-skirts of the town,
have advertised me, as part of their bill
of fare; and I am this evening disappointed
of the pleasure I expected, at a Vol. II. N new N1v 178
new species of amusement, called a Masquerade,
from seeing in the newspaper,
that my intention is known to the public.
—In fine, I can no longer find happiness
in this metropolis, and would with
pleasure at this moment re-embark on
the bosom of that ocean, whose distant
waves now beat against the happy shores
of India. Some weeks must elapse, before
such an opportunity can be found.
I shall, therefore, in the interim, avail
myself of the polite and friendly invitation
of Lady Grey, and the family of the
Ardents, to go into the country.

If I can prevail upon the philosopher
to accompany me, I shall indeed be
happy. And let not Maandaara, too much
exult over the disappointment of his
friend, when I confess to him, that experience
has now convinced me, that,
though the novelty of manners and opinions
may produce amusement, and the 3 variety N2r 179
variety of human characters afford some
degree of instruction, it is the Society of
the friend we esteem, that can alone
solace and satisfy the heart!

When I vainly flattered myself, with
obtaining the company of Severan, I
had entirely forgot his experiments. He
has now engaged in them with renewed
ardour; and so deeply is he interested in
their success, that no motive, less powerful
than the possibility of relieving a fellow
creature in distress, would be sufficient
to make him quit his laboratory.
The morning after that in which we had
visited the building allotted to the reception
of the unfortunate people, whom
these good Christians have so piously N2 devoted N2v 180
devoted to Eemen,The Prince of Hell. I paid a visit to
the worthy family who had been rescued
from the punishment of poverty, and
after having done what was in my power
to preserve them from being found guilty
of a like crime in future, directed them
to return to Severan, the sum he had so
generously advanced.

But though I am thus deprived of his
company for the present, he promises to
join me, as soon as his scientific engagements
will admit. And in the mean
time, he tells me, I may expect amusement
(I wonder he did not rather say
instruction) from the characters I shall
meet at Sir Caprice Ardent’s. This man
of many minds, has left his temples
and his turrets, his pillars and pillasters,
his arcades and his colonades, to be
finished by the next lover of architecture, who N3r 181
who may chance to spring up in the
family; and has retired into the country,
to enjoy, without interruption, the calm
pleasures of philosophy. The philosophy
which at present engrosses the soul
of the Baronet, is, however, of a different
species from that which engages
the capacious mind of Doctor Severan.
It is a philosophy which disdains the
slow process of experiment, and chiefly
glories in contradicting common sense.
Its main object is, to shew that the things
which are, are not
, and the things which
are not, are
; and this is called Metaphysics.

As I understand the matter, the art of
these metaphysical champions lies in
puzzling each other, and the best puzzler
carries off the prize.

While these Christian-born philosophers
pique themselves in turning from N3 light, N3v 182
light, to walk in the darkness of their
own vain imaginations, may the words
that are written in the Ocean of Wisdom,
never escape from our remembrance!

“Though one should be intimately
acquainted with the whole circle of Sciences,
and master of the principles, on
which the most abstruse of them are
founded; yet, if this knowledge be unaccompanied
by the humble worship of
the Omniscient God, it shall prove altogether
vain, and unprofitable.”This passage appears to have been taken
from the Tervo-Vaulever Kuddel, a composition
which bears the marks of considerable antiquity,
and which, though written not by a Bramin, but a
Hindoo of the lowest order, is held in high estimation,
for the beauties of its poetry, and intrinsic
value of its precepts. Part of it has been lately
translated into English, by Mr. Kindersley.

I have heard of a conveyance, which, although N4r 183
although not eligible for my personal accommodation,
yet will serve to transmit
this letter to my friend.

May he who possesses the eight attributes,
receive your prayers! May you
walk in the shadow of Veeshnu! and
when by the favour of Varuna, this letter
shall reach the dwelling of Maandaara,
may he read its contents with the same
sentiments of friendship, as now beats in
the bosom of Zaarmilla. The brother
of Zamarcanda salutes the sister of his
heart, and weeps over the tender blossom
he entrusted to her bosom. O that by
her care, his mind may be nourished by
the refreshing dew of early virtue!
What can I say more?

N4 Letter N4v 184

Letter XV.

Praise to Ganesa!The God of Wisdom, whose symbol is the
Head of an Elephant.
How would
the God, whose symbol is an Elephant’s
Head, have been astonished, could he
have descended to have been a spectator
of the scene I have just now witnessed?
Had he beheld, in what a ridiculous light
he is represented by the Philosophers of
Europe, who pretend to be his worshippers,
I am afraid, he would have been more
than half ashamed of his votaries. But,
let me not anticipate. You must travel
the whole journey: and, according to
my plan of punctual and minute information,
you must be told, that I left London
the morning after that in which my
last epistle was concluded. And travelling,1 velling, N5r 185
after the manner of the country,
in a carriage drawn by four horses,
which were changed every six or eight
coss, at Choultries, replete with every
convenience, and occupied by the politest,
the civilest, and the most hospitable
people, I have, since my residence in
Europe, ever encountered.

Wherever I stopped, smiles of wellcome
sat on every brow, nor was the
benign suavity of their manners, confined
to myself alone; it extended even
to my domestics; and was particularly
evinced in the cordial looks, and kindly
greetings bestowed on my English Sircar,
who has the uncontrouled disbursement
of my money.

I had already travelled upwards of two
hundred miles (about one hundred of
our coss) without meeting with any adventure
worth notice; and had turned a few N5v 186
few miles out of the great road, into that
which leads to the Baronet’s, when on
stopping to change horses, at the Inn of
a paltry village, I met with an unexpected
delay. They had no horses at home. I
was, therefore, under the necessity of
waiting for the return of a pair, which
the landlord assured me, would be back
in less than half an hour, and should then
proceed with me immediately. I was a
little surprised, to hear him propose having
my carriage drawn by one pair, as my
English servant had assured me, it was a
thing impossible. And his judgment had
been confirmed, not only by the London
horse-hirer, but by the Master of every
Inn upon the road. But as the road was
now more broken, and more hilly, than
I had hitherto travelled, I found that
two horses would be sufficient. And
for these two, I resolved to wait with all
possible patience.—I do not know that
I have hitherto mentioned to you, that in N6r 187
in this country, there are various ways
of measuring time: and that, what is
with trades-people, inn-keepers, servants,
&c. called five minutes, is seldom less
than one hour, by the sun-dial. What
they call an hour, is a very undeterminate
period indeed; being sometimes two
hours, and as I have frequently known it,
with my English servant, sometimes the
length of a whole evening. Making up
my mind, therefore, to spend two or three
hours, at this sorry village, I was not a
little pleased, to hear, that I had the prospect
of some company; and that two
gentlemen from Sir Caprice Ardent’s,
were in the same house. They soon introduced
themselves to my acquaintance;
and it was not long before I discovered,
that these were two of the Philosophers,
mentioned to me by my friend Severan.

They informed me, that they had been
brought to the village on a disagreeable errand N6v 188
errand. They had, it seems, been stopped
and robbed in their way from London
to Ardent-Hall. The robber was now
in custody, but their evidence was necessary
for his commitment to prison.
On this account, they were desired to
appear before a Magistrate; and as I rejoice
in every new scene, from which I
can hope to acquire a new idea, I gladly
accompanied them thither. Little did I
know, what acquisitions were to be made
to my stock of knowledge! or, that in
the simple business of recognizing the
person of a robber, I was to be made
acquainted with a complete system of
Philosophy. Alas! ignorant that I was!
I knew not that to involve the simplest
question in perplexity, and to veil the
plain dictates of common sense, in the
thick mist of obscurity and doubt, is an
easy matter with metaphysical Philosophers!

We N7r 189

We were shewn into the Hall of Justice,
and found the Magistrate seated in
his chair. This portly personage, who in
figure very much resembled those images
of the Mandarines of China, which are
often to be seen both in Asia and Europe,
with due solemnity of voice, addressing
himself to the eldest of the two gentlemen,
desired him to examine the features
of the culprit, who now stood before him,
and say, whether he was satisfied as to
his identity. “Much may be said upon
the subject of identity,”
replied Mr. Puzzledorf;
“the greatest philosophers have
differed in their opinions concerning it,
and ill would it become me, to decide
upon a question of such vast importance.”

“You have but to look in the man’s
face, Sir,”
returned the Magistrate, “to
see whether he is the identical person,
by whom you have been robbed; and I
do not see, what any philosopher has to
say concerning it.”
“It would ill becomecome N7v 190
me to instruct your worship upon
this point,”
resumed Mr. Puzzledorf,
“but his being identically the same, is in
my opinion, altogether impossible. Nor
is my opinion singular; happily, it is
supported by the most respectable authorities.
Locke, indeed, makes identity
to consist in consciousness, but consciousness
exists in succession, it cannot be
the same in any two moments. His
Hypothesis, therefore, is not tenable; in
fact, Watts, Colins, Clarke, Butler,
Berkly, Price, Priestly, all have, in some
degree, differed from it.”
“Pray Sir,
were these gentlemen Justices of the
King’s Bench?”
interrupted the Magistrate;
“if they were not, I must take
the liberty of telling you, Sir, they were
very impertinent to interfere in such questions!
I am not to be taught the business
of a Justice of Peace, by any of them.—
And again ask you, whether, that man,
who calls himself Tobias, alias Timothy Trundle, N8r 191
Trundle
, be the very identical, person,
by whom you were robbed on
the 18th instant, on his Majesty’s highway?”
“I must again repeat it,” returned
the Philosopher, “the thing is
impossible; it is proved beyond a doubt,
that there is no such quality as permanent
identity, appertaining to any thing
whatever:—and that no one can any
more remain one and the same person
for two moments together, than that two
successive moments can be one, and the
same moment. And if you will give me
the honour of stating my arguments upon
the subject, which I shall do in a manner
truly philosophical, I make no doubt
of convincing you, of the truth of my
system. It is, indeed, a system so clear,
so plain, so unanswerable, that nothing
but the most willful blindness and obstinancy,
can resist its truth.”
“That I
deny,”
said Mr. AxiumAxiom, interrupting his
friend. “I agree with you, that consciousness,sciousness N8v 192
being frequently interrupted,
is not strictly continuous, and, therefore,
the continuity of consciousness cannot
constitute identity: I also allow, that
wherever there is a chemical combination,
there is a corresponding change of
properties, and that the majority of the
particles of which the man is composed,
are necessarily in succession changed.—
But, I assert, and will undertake to prove,
that there exists certain stamina which
are never carried off. Where this stamina
is situated, will, I know, admit of
dispute. In the heart, say some; in the
brain, say others: for my part, I think
it is most probable, that it is placed in
that part of the brain which approaches
the nearest possible to the very top
of the nose, which situation, is, undoubtedly,
the most convenient for receiving
the notices sent to it from the
organs of sight, hearing, smelling, &c.
and which may be more incontestably proved, O1r 193
proved, from the following arguments:
first”
“Fire, and fury!” exclaimed
the magistrate, “this is more than human
patience can bear! But do not
think, gentlemen, that I am to be made
a fool of in this way; I shall let you
know, that it is no such easy matter to
make a fool of me! And was it not for
the sake of my worthy friend, Sir Caprice
Ardent
, I should let you know the consequences
of insulting one of his Majesty’s
justices of the peace, in the exercise of
his duty. A vile misdemeanor! a high
breach of decorum! and not to be suffered
to pass with impunity. Once for
all, I desire you, Sir”
(to Axiom) “to examine
the countenance of the culprit,
and, without loss of time, to declare‒‒‒
whether he be actually the person guilty
of the alledged crime?”

“As for crime,” replied Mr. Axiom,
“I absolutely deny the existence of crime
in any case whatever. What is by the Vol. II. O vulgar O1v 194
vulgar erroneously called so, is, in the
enlightened eye of philosophy, nothing
more than an error in judgment. And,
indeed, according to my friend Doctor
Sceptic
(Tim Trundle’s former master)
we have no right to predicate this much.
—For what is right? what is wrong? what
is vice? what is virtue? but terms merely
relative, and which are to be applied by
the standard of a man’s own reason. If,
for instance, the reason of Mr. Timothy
Trundle
, leads him to revolt at the
unjust distribution of property, and to
think it virtue, to give his feeble aid towards
redressing that enormous abuse,
who shall dare to call it wrong?”
“I
can tell you, Sir,”
cried the Justice,
“that the law—will think it right, that
Mr. Timothy Trundle, should be hanged
for so doing.—Nor, would it be any
loss to the world, if all the promulgators
of such doctrines, the aiders and abettors
of such acts of atrocity, shared the same fate!” O2r 195
fate!”
“That Sir,” returned Axiom,
with great calmness, “I conceive to be
an error of judgment, on the part of your
worship.”
“You, however, declare, that
this is the person by whom you were
robbed?”
said the Justice. “Yes,” replied
Axiom, “I have no scruples on the
subject of his personal identity; identity
being, as I said before”
‒‒‒“O say no
more upon the subject, but let the clerk
read your affidavit, and have done with
it,”
cried the magistrate. The clerk proceeded,
and the solemn appeal to the
Deity‒‒‒an appeal which so nearly concerned
the life of a fellow-creature, was
made‒‒‒by the extraordinary, and, to me,
incomprehensible ceremony of kissing a
little dirty-looking book!

The prisoner, who had hitherto maintained
a strict silence, now addressed himself
to Mr. Axiom, to whom, it seems, he
was well known, having long been servantO2 vant O2v 196
to his particular friend. He began
in a sullen tone, as follows:

“I did not think as how it would
have been your honour, that would have
had the heart to turn so against me at
last. Many a time and oft, have I heard
you, and my master, Doctor Sceptic, say,
that all mankind were equal, and that
the poor had as good a right to property
as the rich. You said, moreover,
that they were all fools, that would not
make the most they could of this world,
seeing as how there was no other; for
that religion was all a hum, and the Parson
a rogue, who did not himself believe
a word of it.‒‒‒Nay, the very last day
that ever I attended you at dinner, did
not you say, again and again, that Kings,
Princes, and Prime Ministers, were all
worse than pick-pockets? And yet now
you would go for to hang me, for having
only civilly asked a few guineas, to make O3r 197
make up a little matter of loss, I had had
in the Lottery. I wonder you a’nt
ashamed to turn so against your own
words.”
“No, Timothy,” returned the
philosopher; “my opinions are not so
easily changed. No man, ever yet convinced
me, of being in an error. You
have only to regret your having lived in
a dark age, when vulgar prejudices so
far prevail, as to consider laws as necessary
to the well-being of society.—But
be comforted, Timothy! The age of
reason approaches. That glorious æra
is fast advancing, in which every man
shall do that which is right in his own
eyes, and the fear of the gallows shall
have as little influence, as the fear of
hell.”

“Ah! that I had kept to my good
grandmother’s wholesome doctrine of hell
and damnation!”
(exclaimed the poor
wretch, whom the Justice’s men were
now dragging back to prison)‒‒‒“I should O3 not O3v 198
not now be at the mercy of a false friend,
who laughed me out of the fear of God—
and now leaves me to the mercy of the
gallows!”
‒‒‒He continued to speak, but
we could no longer hear. He was dragged
to his prison, and we having made
our obedience to the Magistrate, departed.
I have been enabled thus circumstantially,
to detail the particulars of
this curious conversation, from the politeness
of the Magistrate’s nephew, who
was so kind as to furnish me with a copy
of his notes, taken down in, what is
called, Short Hand.

It is possible, that much of it may appear
to you unintelligible; but be not
discouraged. How should our uninlightened
minds, expect to understand
the language of philosophers, since from
all I can learn, they seldom throroughlythoroughly
understand themselves?

On O4r 199

On returning to the Inn, I found the
horses in waiting, the gentlemen’s were
also in readiness, and we proceeded in
in company to Ardent Hall. My reception
from the Baronet, was very cordial.
That of his Lady, was most frigidly polite.
Her daughter, did not seem to
remember ever having seen me before;
but the elder Miss Ardent, shook
me by the hand, with a degree of frankness,
as masculine as her understanding.

The conversation of the evening, turned
upon the same topics, that had been
discussed before the Magistrate, Mr.
Axiom
and Mr. Puzzledorf doing little
more than support the opinions they
had formerly advanced. Sir Caprice
Ardent
, seemed, in general, disposed to
agree with the last speaker; and Doctor
Sceptic
, who made one of the party,
made a point of agreeing with none.—
Miss Ardent retired to write letters, O4 and O4v 200
and her Ladyship and her daughter, remained
as silent as did the friend of
Maandaara.

O Sheermaal!—Wise and learned
Bramin!—May thy meek and generous
spirit, pardon the presumption of my
ignorance, which refusing to confide in
thy experience, persisted in cherishing
the ill-founded notion, that all the people
of England were Christians!‒‒‒With all
humility, I now retract my error: and
confess‒‒‒that of the many religions prevalent
in this strange country, Christianity
(as it is set forth in the Shaster) has the
smallest number of votaries: and, according
to the accounts of my new friend,
is fast journeying to oblivion.

Much O5r 201

Much do the Philosophers exult, in exposing
the weakness and wickedness of
its authors. These artful and designing
men, who having entered into a combination
to lead the most virtuous lives,
having bound themselves to the practice
of fortitude and forbearance, meekness
and magnanimity, piety towards God, and
benevolence to all mankind, weakly and
foolishly, refused to take to themselves
any merit for their conduct; and renouncing
all worldly honours and interests,
resigned themselves to persecution,
pains, tortures, and death, in support
of the truth of their doctrines.

All this appears very foolish in the
eyes of the Philosophers; who, judging
of others by themselves, pronounce so
much self-denial, fortitude, and forbearance,
to be utterly impossible. The God
of the Christians, appears in their eyes,
as very unreasonable, in exacting purity 2 of O5v 202
of heart‒‒‒and humility from his votaries.
They therefore, think it is doing much
service to mankind, to free them from
these uneasy restraints, and to lead them
to the worship of Dewtah, that are not
quite so unreasonable.

To make the attempt, is all that is necessary,
towards obtaining the appellation
of Philosopher.

On examining the Cosha,Dictionary. I found,
indeed, that the word “Philosopher”, was
said to signify, “a man deep in knowledge,
either moral or natural”
—but,
from my own experience, I can pronounce
the definition to be nugatory:
and that those who usually call themselves
such, are men, who, without much knowledge,
either moral or natural, entertain
a high idea of their own superiority, from
having the temerity to reject whatever has O6r 203
has the sanction of experience, and common
sense.

The poojah of Philosophers is performed
to certain Idols, called “Systems”.
The faith of each system has been promulgated
by the priest, who either first
formed the Idol, or first set it up to receive
the poojah of the credulous. This
faith, is received by the votary of the
system with undoubting confidence, and
defended with the fervency of pious
zeal. It must be confessed, that this
zeal, sometimes carries the Philosophers
to a pitch of intolerance, that is repugnant
to the feelings of a Hindoo. Never
did the most bigoted derveishThe antipathy of the Mussulmans to every
species of Idolatry, is still the occasion of frequent
disturbance to the Hindoos, in the performance of
the superstitious ceremonies of their religion.
of the
Mussulmans, betray more abhorrence
at the sight of the Idols of the Pagoda, than O6v 204
than is evinced by the worshipper of
system towards a Christian priest! And
yet, so far are the latter from returning
any portion of this dislike, that the majority
of them are very careful not to
offend the Philosophers, by too rigid an
adherance to the precepts of that Shaster,
to which they know their adversaries
have such an insuperable antipathy.

All the Philosophers now at Ardent-
Hall
, perform poojah to different systems:
and seem to have no opinion in common,
except the expectation of the return of the
Suttee Jogue, which they distinguish by
the name of The Age of Reason.

In this blessed æra of purity and perfection,
it is believed by each of the
Philosophers, that the worship of his
Idol shall be established; and the doctrines
of his priest, be the faith of the
world.

“Then,” O7r 205

“Then,” says Mr. Puzzledorf, “will be
evinced the dignity of man,”
for this is
the Idol to which Mr. Puzzledorf, professes
the performance of poojah. You
are, perhaps, curious to know in what
this dignity consists? Know, then, that it
appears, from the researches of the priest
of Mr. Puzzledorf—that some difference
in point of organization, doth actually
exist between him and a Bamboo, or a
Bramble-bush: no brain having as yet
been discovered in any of the vegetable
tribes. Should such a discovery crown
the labours of some future Philosopher,
what a sad stroke will it be to the dignity
of Man! He will then be reduced
to a level, not only with the beasts of the
field, but with the very trees of the forest!
The similarity is already too conspicuous.
Like them, he is doomed slowly to advance
to maturity; shortly to flourish,
and quickly to decay. Like them too,
according to the faith of Mr. Puzzledorf,dorf, O7v 206
he is doomed to moulder into dust,
from which, there is no hopes of resuscitation,
no prospect of revival!‒‒‒Such in
the eyes of the adherents of this system;
is the vaunted dignity of Man!

The Idol of Mr. Axiom, is the little
stamina at the top of the nose. This, he
declares to be imperishable, and that it
must of necessity exist to all eternity.‒‒‒
To the faith of Mr. Axiom, Mr. Puzzledorf
opposes an argument, that is
frequently made use of by the biggoted
of all sects, against the opinions of their
adversaries:—viz. That it is nonsense.
He says, moreover, that in the age of
reason, it will incontestably appear, that
every particle is alike liable to the decomposition
which these poor bodies of
our’s must undergo in the laboratory of
death, who is too good a chemist to
suffer the little favourite Stamina of Mr.
Axiom
, to escape him. Both Philosophersphers O8r 207
appeal for the truth of their systems,
to the experiments of Doctor Severan.
Alas! little does the good Doctor think,
that the existence of a future state,
depends upon the management of his
crucible!

I have not been able to discover the
name of the system, to which Doctor
Sceptic
pays his vows, the only thing
I have ever heard him attempt to prove,
is, that nothing ever was, will, or can be
proved. All religions being, in his
opinion, equally false, ridiculous, and
absurd. But, though he performs not
poojah to the Idols of any of his brother
Philosophers, it is the religion of Christianity,
against which, the arrows of his
sarcasm are chiefly pointed. When an
opportunity occurs of venting the overflowings
of his zeal, in a sneer at any of
the opinions or practices of the Christians,
his rigid features relax into a
smile of triumph, which, for a moment, dispels O8v 208
dispels from his countenance the gloom
of discontent. It seems to have been the
endeavour of his life, to eradicate from
his bosom, those social feelings and affections,
which form so great a part of
the felicity of common mortals.—A
stranger to the animating glow of friendship,
and the tender confidence of esteem;
he considers all attachments, as a proof
of weakness‒‒‒into which, if he has ever
in any degree relaxed‒‒‒it is in the favour of
a nephew, a hopeful youth, whom he
piques himself upon having freed from
the prejudices he had contracted from a
pious father, at whose piety, and whose
prejudices, the young man now laughs
in a very becoming manner!

The Idol to whose service this young
man hath devoted himself, is called Atheism.
From all that I have been able to
learn, Atheism is an infernal deity, who
demands of his votaries, such cruel sacrifices
—that every one initiated into the mysteries P1r 209
mysteries of this faith, must make a solemn
and absolute renunciation of the
use of his senses‒shut his eyes upon
the fair volume of Nature—and deny
to his heart, the pleasurable emotions of
admiration and gratitude!

Such are the sacrifices required by
this Idol, even from its speculative votaries.
The zeal of its practical proselytes,
carries them still farther.‒‒‒I am told, that
the female converts seldom fail to make
an offering to Atheism of their peace, purity,
and good fame; and that of its worshippers,
among the lower orders of
men, numbers every year suffer martyrdom,
at a place called Newgate; which
I suppose to be a temple dedicated to
this superstition.

What are the posthumous honours,
which the martyrs of Atheism, receive
from their brethren, the philosophers, I Vol. II. P have P1v 210
have not been able to discover, as it is
a subject on which the philosophers modestly
decline to expatiate.

From the conversations that I have
overheard, between the nephew of Doctor
Sceptic
, and Mr. Vapour, who is one
of the most renowned teachers of this
faith; I find, that its adherents perform
poojah to certain inferior Dewtah, called
Existing, or External, circumstances,
energies, and powers, of whom, I am not
yet sufficiently prepared to speak.

Mr. Vapour is particularly tenacious
of his faith, which is, indeed, of a
very extraordinary nature. Rejecting
all the received opinions that have hitherto
prevailed in the world, and utterly
discrediting the circumstances upon which
they have been founded; he reserves his
whole stock of credulity for futurity.
Here his faith is so strong, as to bound over P2r 211
over the barriers of probability, to unite
all that is discordant in nature, and to believe
in things impossible.

The age of reason, is thought, by
Mr. Vapour, to be very near at hand.
Nothing, he says, is so easy, as to bring it
about immediately. It is only to persuade
the people in power to resign its exercise;
the rich to part with their property;
and with one consent, to abolish all laws,
and put an end to all government: “Then,”
says this credulous philosopher, shall we
see the perfection of virtue!”
Not such
virtue, it is true, as has heretofore passed
current in the world. Benevolence will
not then be heard of; gratitude will be
considered as a crime, and punished with
the contempt it so justly deserves. Filial
affection would, no doubt, be treated
as a crime of a still deeper dye, but that,
to prevent the possibility of such a breach
of virtue, no man, in the age of reason, P2 shall P2v 212
shall be able to guess who his father is;
nor any woman to say to her husband,
“behold your son”. Chastity, shall then be
considered as a weakness, and the virtue
of a female estimated according as she has
had sufficient energy to break its mean
restraints. “To what sublime heights,”
exclaims this sapient philosopher, “may
we not expect that virtue will then be
seen to soar!‒‒‒By destroying the domestic
affections, what an addition will be
made to human happiness! And when
man is no longer corrupted by the tender
and endearing ties of brother, sister, wife,
and child, how greatly will his dispositions
be meliorated! The fear of punishment
too, that ignoble bondage, which,
at present, restrains the energies of so
many great men, will no longer damp
the noble ardour of the daring robber,
or the midnight thief. Nor will any
man then be degraded by working for
another. The divine energies of the soul P3r 213
soul will not then be stifled by labouring
for support. What is necessary,
every individual may, without difficulty,
do for himself. Every man shall then
till his own field, and cultivate his own
garden.”
“And pray how are the Ladies
to be clothed in the age of reason?”
asked
Miss Ardent.—“Any Lady,” replied
the philosopher, “who chooses to wear
clothes, which, in this cold climate, may
by some be considered as a matter of
necessity, must herself pluck the wool
from the back of the sheep, and spin it
on a distaff, of her own making.”
“But,
she cannot weave it,”
rejoined Miss Ardent,
“without a loom; a loom cannot
well be made without iron tools, and
iron tools can have no existence without
the aggregated labours of many individuals.”
“True,” returned Mr. Vapour;
“and it is therefore probable, that in
the glorious æra I speak of, men will
again have recourse to the skins of beasts P3 for P3v 214
for covering; and these will be procured
according to the strength and capacity
of the individual. A summer’s dress,
may be made of the skins of mice, and
such animals; while those of sheep, hares,
horses, dogs, &c. may be worn in winter.
Such things may, for a time, take
place. But as the human mind advances
to that perfection, at which, when
deprived of religion, laws, and government,
it is destined to arrive, men will,
no doubt, possess sufficient energy, to resist
the effects of cold; and to exist, not
only without clothing, but without food
also. When reason is thus far advanced,
an effort of the mind will be sufficient to
prevent the approach of disease, and stop
the progress of decay. People will not
then be so foolish as to die.”
“I can
believe, that in the age of reason, women
won’t be troubled with the vapours,”

replied Miss Ardent, “but, that they
should be able to live without food and 2 clothing, P4r 215
clothing, is another affair.”
“Women!”
repeated Mr. Vapour, with a contemptuous
smile; “we shall not then be
troubled with—women. In the age of
reason, the world shall contain only a
race of men!!”

Nothing could be more repugnant
to the opinions of Miss Ardent, than this
assertion.—This worthy daughter of Serraswatti
is firmly persuaded, that, in the
age of reason, a very different doctrine
will be established. It is her opinion,
that the perfection of the female understanding
will then be universally acknowledged.

She pants for that blessed period, when
the eyes of men shall no longer be attracted
by the charms of youth and
beauty; when mind, and mind alone,
shall be thought worthy the attention of
a philosopher.

P4 In P4v 216

In that wished-for æra, the talents of
women, she says, shall not be debased by
household drudgery, or their noble spirits
broken by base submission, to usurped
authority. The reins will then be put
into the hands of wisdom; and as women
will, in the age of reason, probably be
found to have the largest share, it is they
who will then drive the chariot of state,
and guide the steeds of war!

Mr. Axiom, whose deference to the
opinions of Miss Ardent is implicit and
unvariable, perfectly coincides in her
opinion.‒‒‒“Who,” said he, the other
evening, in discoursing upon this subject;
“who would look for mind, in the
insipid features of a girl? It is when the
countenance has acquired a character,
which it never can do under the period
of forty, that it becomes an object of admiration,
to a man of sense. Ah! how
different is the sentiment which it then inspires!” P5r 217
inspires!”
The tender sigh, which was
heaved by Mr. Axiom, at the conclusion
of this sentence, in vibrating on the ears
of Miss Ardent, seemed to touch some
pleasant unison, that overspread her countenance
with a smile. You, my friend,
will, I doubt not, smile also, at hearing of
these glad tidings for grandmothers; and
divert yourself with thinking, when this
empire of reason shall be extended to
the regions of the east, what curious
revolutions it will make in the Zenanas
of Hindoostan!—May the Gods of our
fathers preserve thee from the spirits of
the deep—and the systems of philosophers!
—What can I say more?

Letter P5v 218

Letter XVI.

May He, who at all times claims preference
in adoration, preserve thee!!

The day after that in which I last took
up the reed of instruction, some strangers
arrived at Ardent Hall, who had come
into the country on purpose to see a celebrated
water-fall—on whose beauties,
they poured out such encomiums, as kindled
the flame of curiosity in my bosom.

I no sooner expressed my desire of
visiting this scene of wonders, than Sir
Caprice
, with great politeness, ordered
the chief officer of his household to attend
me thither.‒‒‒It was natural to expect,
that some of the philosophers might
have felt an inclination to view a scene, to P6r 219
to the description of which, it appeared,
they were no strangers.‒‒‒But, alas! to
the worshipper of systems, the fair face
of Nature has no charms!‒‒‒In vain, for
him, does the appearance of Arjoon
tinge the cheeks of the cup-bearers of
the sky,An appellation for the Clouds, which frequently
occurs in Asiatic Poetry.
with the crimson blush of gladness!
In vain, for him, do the robes of the
seasons, wove in the changeful looms of
Nature, present the ceaseless charm of
variety! In vain, for him, smiles the soft
beauties of the blooming valley, when the
linnet, sitting on his rose-bush, sings forth
the praises of the spring! And equally in
vain, for him, doth Nature expose to view
the terrors of her wonder-working arm,
in the scenes of sublimity and grandeur!
Midst all the beauties of creation, a
philosopher sees nothing beautiful, but
the system which he worships!

Happily P6v 220

Happily for me, Mr. Trueman, the
steward of Sir Caprice, was a stranger to
systems; but had cultivated so much
taste for the beauties of the rural landscape,
as enabled him to point out to my
observation, a thousand charms, which
might otherwise have escaped my notice.
Nor was this the only benefit I
derived from his society. From his
plain good sense, I received more real
and useful information; in our ride of
four hours, than I had gained in nearly
as many weeks, in the company of the
philosophers.

For the distance of many miles round
Ardent-Hall, the country is irregular and
undulating. It abounds in trees, which,
though they boast not the height of the
Mango, or the vast circumference of the
Banyan, are neither destitute of grandeur,
nor of beauty. These are not clumped
together in solemn groves, or gloomy jungles; P7r 221
jungles; but are so planted, as to surround
the small fields into which the
country is divided; each of which small
enclosures, now fraught with the riches of
the yellow harvest, appears like a “Topaz
in a setting of Emeralds.”
The chearful
aspect of the peasants, busily employed
in cutting down the grain, while their
fancies seemed to revel in the scene of
plenty, excited the most pleasurable emotions
in my heart; for who but a philosopher,
can “breathe the air of hilarity,
and not partake of the intoxication of
delight?”In several passages in this Letter, the Rajah
seems to have adopted the imagery of the Persian
Poet Inatulla of Delhi—with whose writings, he
was, doubtless, well acquainted.

The scene, however, soon changed: an
extensive plain opened before us, where
no yellow harvest waved its golden head
—where no tall trees afforded shelter to the P7v 222
the traveller—all was waste and barren.
Upon inquiring of my intelligent companion,
the reason of this wonderful
change, he could only inform me, that
this was called “a Common”, and that it
could not be cultivated, without a solemn
act of the Legislature. I now perceived,
that it was from reasons of state, that
these great portions of land (for Commons
occur very frequently in England)
were suffered to remain desolate; but,
in vain did I endeavour to discover the
motives, which could induce the government
to lay this restraint on cultivation.

As geese appeared to have here an exclusive
right to pasturage, I was inclined
to think, that they might, perhaps, be
the objects of superstitious veneration to
the English court; but on applying to
my guide, I found, that geese were not
of the number of protected animals; and
that far from being honoured in the mannerner P8r 223
of those which are called “Game”, the
murder of a goose might be performed
without ceremony, by the most ignoble
hands. Perhaps, thought I, it is from
the benevolent regard of the minister
towards the old women, who keep these
noisy flocks; but, alas! a little reflection
convinced me, that the age of reason, is
not yet sufficiently established, to countenance
the supposition. It must, then,
be from the pious apprehension of endangering
the virtue of the people, by
an overflow of plenty.—If this be really
the case—it must be confessed, that a
more effectual method could not be
taken to bring about the desired end.

Having passed the commons, we entered
into a deep and narrow valley, overhung
with frowning rocks; these seemed
frequently to close upon us, and
sternly to deny all access to the interior
scene. A silver stream, which alternately kissed P8v 224
kissed the feet of the precipices on each
side, encouraged us to proceed, and
gently conducted us to the furthermost
end of the valley. It was here, that the
glories of the cataract burst upon our
senses.—But how shall my feeble hands,
do justice to such a scene? Can I, by
description, stun the ears of Maandaara,
with the thunder of the falling waters; or
present to his imagination, the grotesque
figures of the rocks, surrounding the
magnificent bason into which they fell?
Can I bring terror to his bosom, by
the mention of the over-jutting crags,
which, on one side, topped the precipice;
or produce in his mind, the sensation of
delight, by a minute description of the
various trees and shrubs, whose thick
foliage ornamented the opposite bank?—
Ah no! The task is impossible; or
possible only to the magic pen of poetry.
By Zaarmilla, it must be passed over in
silence!

We Q1r 225

We returned to Ardent-Hall, as the
chariot of Surraya was sinking behind the
distant hills. On approaching the house,
we beheld a scene of extraordinary commotion.
All was hurry and confusion.—
Men and boys, household servants and
labourers, all seemed engaged in the
pursuit of some invisible object. At
one part of the lawn, we beheld Doctor
Sceptic
and Mr. Puzzledorf, cautiously
stepping along, and carefully peeping
into every bush they passed; at another
place, we saw Sir Caprice, attended by
the rest of the philosophers, carrying a
large net—which, with much care, they
softly spread upon a hedge, and then began
to beat the roots of the shrubs
that composed it, in the most furious
manner.

“What is the matter?” cried my
companion, to a lad who was running
past us. “What is the occasion of all Vol. II. Q this Q1v 226
this bustle? What, in the name of goodness,
are you all about?”
“Catching
Sparrows, Sir,”
returned the lad, in
breathless hurry. “Catching Sparrows!”
repeated the good Steward. “Philosophers,
catching Sparrows! That is doing some
good with their learning, indeed!—If
they had begun to this work sooner, the
early corn in the South field would have
been the better for it!”

As my mind has not yet been sufficiently
contaminated by the practices of
Christians, to take pleasure in beholding
misery inflicted upon any part of the
animated creation, I hastened from this
cruel scene, and took refuge in my own
apartment. After some time spent in
meditating on the cruel dispositions of
Europeans, and in performing poojah
to the benignant Dewtah of our fathers
—I descended, to pay my respects to
Miss Ardent, whose voice I heard in the Q2r 227
the Hall. “How happy it is, that you
have returned to-night!”
exclaimed she,
on perceiving me. “You have come
in time, to assist at the most wonderful
of all discoveries! What will your friends
in India think, when you tell them, that
sparrows may be changed into honeybees?”

“It is a subject, on which none of my
friends could possibly entertain a doubt,”

returned I; “the transmigration of soul,
from body to body, is evidently necessary
for its purification.—It is the doctrine of
the Vedas‒‒‒and its authority is unquestionable.”
“But the change I speak of, has
nothing to do with the doctrine of transmigration,”
rejoined Miss Ardent. “Our
sparrows are still to continue good and real
sparrows: it is only their instincts, that are
to undergo a change, from the power of
external circumstances. So young Sceptic
declared this morning at breakfast, and Q2 my Q2v 228
my brother, whose imagination takes fire
at every new idea, declared instantly,
that the experiment should be made.
It is true,”
continued Miss Ardent,
“this theory is not confined to sparrows
‒‒‒The reasoning faculties, of which we
poor two-legged animals are so proud—
and the various instincts, which mark
each tribe of the brute creation, all
equally originate in a combination of
external circumstances. And, according to
the arguments of the young philosopher,
I see no reason, why, by a proper course
of education, a monkey may not be a
Minister of State, or a goose, Lord Chancellor,
of England.”

Here a stop was put to our conversation,
by the entrance of the gentlemen,
each of whom was so full of his deeds of
prowess, in the engagement with the
sparrows, that he could talk of nothing
else. One hundred sparrows, were alreadyready Q3r 229
taken prisoners:‒‒‒but as this was
only one third of the number declared
necessary to form a hive, a reward was
offered by the Baronet, for each live
sparrow that should be brought to the
Hall in the course of the succeeding
day:—a measure which was crowned
with such success, that, before sun-set on
the following evening, the number was
declared complete.

Another tedious day elapsed, before
the hut destined for their future residence,
could be finished; this was made exactly
after the model of those of the domestic
bees, which, in this country, are built of
straw, made into small bundles, and
bound together by the fibres of an
aquatic plant. This hut, or hive, as it is
called, bore the same proportion to its
model, as the size of a sparrow does to
that of a bee; it was furnished with cross
sticks for the support of the combs, and Q3 that Q3v 230
that the sparrows might have no apology
for not beginning immediately to work,
great care was taken that no convenience
usually afforded to the bees, should
be wanting.‒‒‒After undergoing a careful
examination by the philosophers, this
huge sparrow-hive was placed upon a
platform, that had been reared for its
reception; and the sparrows having been
brought in baskets to the spot, Sir
Caprice Ardent
, in presence of all the
philosophers, with his own hand, pair by
pair, deposited them in their new abode.
The apparent satisfaction with which
they entered their hive, gave such a convincing
proof of the power of external
circumstances, as already rendered Sir
Caprice
a complete convert to the
system. At the conclusion of the ceremony,
he cordially shook hands with the
young philosopher, and requesting the
rest of the party would excuse him for
the evening, he retired to his study, to 1 begin Q4r 231
begin a journal of these important proceedings,
with which he intended to illuminate
the world.

At the first indication of the dawn of
morning, I went, as in my constant practice,
to the river side, and after the performance
of the accustomary poojah, and
having bathed in the refreshing stream, I
strolled into that part of the garden, where
the honey-making sparrows were placed.

It was at an hour when my meditations
have here never been disturbed by
the appearance of a fellow mortal. Judge
then of my surprise, at beholding the
Baronet, who, wrapped in his night-
robes, stood at the side of the new erected
hut, listening with eager ears, to catch
the first sound that should emanate from
its precincts‒‒‒on perceiving me, he
made the signal of silence, and then
beckoning me to approach‒‒‒enquired,
in a soft whisper, whether I did not hear Q4 the Q4v 232
the sparrows hum? I told him, that I
did indeed hear a humming noise; but
believed, that it proceeded from a solitary
bee, which was hovering over the
adjoining shrubs. Chagrined at my discovery,
the Baronet turned from me, in
displeasure, and went into the house.

Many were the visits, which, in the
course of this day, were made to the new
hive. It was soon discovered, that the
sparrows had been so far impelled by
the pressure of existing circumstances, as
to go abroad in the morning, in quest of
necessary food; and it was hoped by the
philosophers, that, as is the custom of
bees, they would return before the decline
of day, to deposit their yellow
spoils. But, alas! fallacious is the hope
of mortals! The shades of evening arrived,
and night succeeded, spreading
her dark mantle over the face of Nature,
but not a sparrow appeared!

Miss Q5r 233

Miss Ardent, whose knowledge extends
to all the particulars of rural economy,
on perceiving the vexation of her
brother, suggested the idea, that the sparrows
had probably swarmed on some tree
in the neighbourhood, where they might
remain in safety till the following day;
“and then,” continued she, “if they
shew any inclination to fly off, they may
easily be fixed, by beating the frying-
pans, as they do to a swarm of bees.”

This hint from Miss Ardent, re-kindled
the expiring flame of hope in the breasts
of the philosophers.—Next morning,
which proved a very rainy one, word was
brought, that a number of the fugitives
were seen in the hawthorn-tree, at the
bottom of the lawn—thither the philosophers
instantly repaired, each armed with
some culinary instrument, which, as soon
as they reached the place, they began to
beat, in such a manner as might have arrested Q5v 234
arrested the Sun in the entrance of the
jaws of the Crocodile!

Lost was the labour of the philosophers!
who, in this instance, exerted
their talents in vain. Instead of gathering
together in a cluster, as was expected,
no sooner did the discordant sounds
from the instruments of the philosophers
reach the hearing of the sparrows, than
away they flew to another tree. Thither
they were again pursued, but still the
more noise that was made, the less did
the sparrows seem inclined to listen. The
master of the bees, declared, that he had
never seen a swarm so unmanageable!

Wet, and wearied, Sir Caprice and his
learned guests, at length returned into
the house. Miss Ardent, and Mr. Axiom,
thought it a good opportunity to laugh
at the system of the young philosopher; who, Q6r 235
who, on his part, defended the infallibility
of his Idol, by declaring, that the experiment
had not been fully made:‒‒‒that
the habits of old sparrows were not
easily conquered;‒‒‒but that young ones,
or young birds of any kind, he was still
convinced, if taken before their habits
were sufficiently formed, would be found
to obey the necessity of existing circumstances,
exactly as did the little useful
insects, of whose instinctive sagacity,
ignorance had said so much.

The hint was not lost upon the Baronet.
A reward for nestlings, of every description,
was again offered: and again attended
with the wished-for success.—
Ah! how many loving pairs among the
feathered tribes, were, for the sake of
this experiment, bereft of their infant
families! The groves resounded with
the plaints of woe! But little pain did
the sorrows of the mourners give to the heart Q6v 236
heart of the young systemist. By his
advice, the little birds, after having
had their bills rubbed with honey, were
shut up in the hive, with a portion
of the same sweet food, for their subsistance.

On the evening of the third day, which
was the conclusion of their destined term
of probation, the entrance to the hive was
opened, but not a bird came forth; every
method was taken to entice them abroad—
but in vain. At length, by the assistance
of the servants, their habitation was
so far raised, as to enable the philosophers
to take a peep within. Sight of horrors!
and smell, still worse than the sight!
The lifeless corsescorpses of the three hundred
half-fledged nestlings lay at the bottom
of their hive, in a promiscuous heap.‒‒‒
“They have effectually swarmed at last!”
said Mr. Axiom.‒‒‒Neither the Baronet,
nor the young philosopher, staid to make 3 any Q7r 237
any remark‒‒‒but every one putting his
fingers to his nose‒‒‒impelled by the necessity
of existing circumstances, hurried
from the dismal scene.

Such, Maandaara, are the illusive phantoms
which the all-pervading spirit, the
sovereign Maya, presents to the perception
of metaphysical Philosophers!

May Ganesa, averting calamity, preserve
to thee the use of thy senses! And
may the poojah performed for thy friend,
by the holy Bramins of Almora, preserve
his mind from the contamination of
systems! What can I say more?

Letter Q7v 238

Letter XVII.

My time, for these two past days, has
been occupied in a manner, that, I hope,
will give pleasure to Maandaara.

I have been engaged in translating for
your perusal, the greatest part of a very
long epistle, with which Doctor Severan
has had the goodness to favour his unworthy
servant.

According to previous agreement, I
transmitted to him, all that I had written
to you since my arrival at Ardent-Hall;
intreating him to favour me with such
strictures upon it, as he thought might
be necessary, towards giving me more
just ideas upon the subjects of which I
had treated.

In Q8r 239

In his observations, the Doctor does
not follow me through the particular
systems of the philosophers; but speaks,
in general terms, of the effects produced,
by what he calls “Scepticism”; which, according
to the great English Cosha, is
the art of doubting. But you shall
have it, as nearly as the different idioms
of the two languages will permit, in his
own words.‒‒‒After opening his letter
with the usual exordium, he thus proceeds:

“Knowing the ardour with which
you pursue knowledge, and the strong
inclination that impels you to investigate
the causes of the different phenomena
which presents themselves to your
observation, I cheerfully comply with
your request.
The history of Literature is intimately
connected with the revolutions of Q8v 240
of Empires; and among all the rude
storms which have assailed it, in none
did it suffer more, than in that which it
endured, together with the government,
of ancient Rome. Literature was, by
this event, effectually driven from those
countries where it had formerly flourished;
and, during a long period (emphatically
distinguished by our historians, by the
epithet of dark) learning was almost
completely obliterated. In this æra of
ignorance, superstition established her
gloomy reign: and when the attention
of men was once more turned to
literary pursuits, the objects they had
to surmount were new and numerous,
and of a nature not very easily to be
subdued.
Instead of that free communication,
which had formerly been permitted to
men, they were now fettered by the
tyrannical edicts of King’s and Priests; the R1r 241
the investigation of truth being equally
hostile to the interests of both. While
freedom of discussion was thus restrained,
the faculties of the human mind were
benumbed, and truth and falsehood were
confounded together. Crude speculations
were ushered into the world, with
the authority of truths; and not only was
scepticism propagated by means of the
promulgation of opinions, nurtured in
ignorance, but encreased from that propensity
which the mind has, when newly
freed from restrictions, to rush from one
extreme to another.
From the nature of our constitution
(whose spirit is toleration) and from the
freedom of our religion from superstition,
scepticism has made little progress
here, in comparison of what it has done
upon the Continent. There, its triumph
has been in proportion to the blind obedience
exacted to the national superstition,Vol. II R tion, R1v 242
to which men of sense and observation
could not, contrary to the dictates
of their reason, subscribe; and from that
propensity of the human mind, which
I have just mentioned, these formed
systems for themselves, as distant from
the truth, as the doctrines of the high
priests of the country were from the
pure precepts of Christianity.
The only species of sceptics that
abound in this kingdom, are not thinking,
but may be called talking sceptics.
These are men of shallow understandings,
and cold hearts; who, feeling their
incapacity to attract attention, by going
on in the ordinary path, endeavour to
gain it by stating opinions which may
astonish their hearers, and acquire them
some degree of applause, for their ingenuity
and boldness. It may, indeed, be
observed of this class, that they take
special care never to utter their oracles 1 before R2r 243
before those who are capable of entering
into argument with them, though
they deliver themselves with dogmatical
assurance before the ignorant and illiterate.
But let not my noble friend imagine
from this account of scepticism, or from
his own penetrating observation on the
conduct of the gentlemen at Ardent-
Hall
, that metaphysical enquiry is without
its use. Such enquiry expands the
powers of the human mind, enlarges the
understanding, and, by placing the science
of morals on a true foundation, tends to
encrease the happiness of society.
Would its professors pursue the same
plan of investigation that has been so
successfully adopted by natural philosophers,
that of first making themselves
well acquainted with facts, and thoroughly
investigating them, before they draw R2 conclusions, R2v 244
conclusions, they would perceive the necessity
of allowing first principles, which
are so self-evident as not to admit of any
direct proof. Indeed, I do not hesitate
to assert, that almost all the errors of metaphysicians
have arisen from their neglect
of natural philosophy.—The extreme
accuracy, and exact precision, that
is requisite in the investigation of the
phenomona of the material world, would
induce like habits of reasoning in regard
to that of the mental: while that Colossus
of Scepticism, I mean Atheism,
would, by an acquaintance with the works
of Nature, be utterly annihilated.
I have endeavoured to explain myself
to my noble friend as clearly as possible
on the subject of his letter; and shall
only add, that true philosophy is never
the companion of arrogance and vanity.
While it investigates with assiduity,
and pronounces with diffidence; they assert R3r 245
assert with boldness and gives the crude
conjectures of fancy, for the sound
deductions of truth.
The natural turn of my mind, and
still more the objects which have for the
greatest part of my life occupied my
attention, have effectually precluded me
from sceptical opinions, and rendered
me callous to the sophistry of their promoters
—but it has always appeared to
me, that where freedom of discussion is
permitted, there scepticism and infidelity
will be but little known. ”

Such, Maandaara, are the opinions of
the natural Philosopher. The Philosophers
at Ardent-Hall declare, that it is
a pity so good a man should have so
many odd prejudices. I confess, that,
to me, who have been accustomed to
behold with reverence, the self-inflicted
torture of holy men—the noble enthusiasmR3 siasm R3v 246
of the worshippers of System is
object of more veneration. It is true,
these philosophers hold it not necessary
to mortify the body, or to bring the irregular
passions under subjection. But
what is the severest penance of the most
pious Yogee, compared to the utter dereliction
of eternal happiness? By hope,
a man is supported through many sorrows,
but, on the shrine of his Idol, the
philosophic Sannaszee, makes a voluntary
sacrifice of even Hope itself.—On
the system that he worships, his thoughts
for ever dwell; on it, his tongue for
ever runs: and while it exclusively occupies
every avenue to his soul, he, with
a superlative degree of modesty, bestows
the epithet of prejudiced enthusiast, on the
votary of Christianity. How amiable is
this condescension!

Shall I confess to my friend—that to
my weak mind, the enlightening conversationversation R4r 247
of the philosophers had become
so tiresome, as to render the arrival
of Lady Grey, and her blooming
party, a considerable relief to my wearied
spirits? Till then, I was destitute of all
resource: Miss Ardent, being too fond
of disputing with the philosophers, and
too much engaged by them to attend to
me; and her Ladyship so entirely engrossed
by her darling boy, as to be incapable
of attending to any other object.
This boy, is suffered to become so
troublesome, that it entirely eradicates
that benevolent complacency which one
is accustomed to feel at the sight of infant
innocence. His parents behold the
capriciousness of his desires increase
with gratification, and the irrascibility of
his temper receive fuel from satiety;
yet do they continue to pamper the
over-pampered appetite, and to indulge
each caprice of the wayward fancy, in
full expectation, that, in the age of reason, R4 he R4v 248
he will be able to exercise the virtue of
self-controul!—Yes, Maandaara, when
from the pressure of existing circumstances,
sparrows are taught to make honey, then
shall the passions, which have been fanned
into a flame by the breath of indulgence,
listen to the voice of Moderation!

You may, perhaps, imagine, that the
society of a young and lovely female,
such as is Miss Julia Ardent, would be
a dangerous trial to a man of my sensibility.
But, alas! my friend, you know
not how effectually the mixture of insipidity
and haughtiness can blunt the
arrows of Cama! It is, perhaps, for this
reason, and to preserve the hearts of
young men from the influence of female
charms, that these qualities are so carefully
instilled at the seminaries of female
education, which were described in such
true colours by the good Bramin Sheermaal.
I was, at that time, too much blinded R5r 249
blinded by the mists of ignorance, to give
credit to his report.—I had read the
Christian Shaster, and was it not natural
for me to suppose, that all who called
themselves Christians, were guided by its
precepts? From it I learned, that Christian
women were not prohibited from
the cultivation of their understandings;
and how could I conceive, that fashion
should lead them to relinquish so glorious
a privilege? How could I imagine, that
Christian parents should be so much
afraid of the improvement of their female
offspring, as to give encouragement
to seminaries formed on purpose
for the exclusion of knowledge? It is
true, the information of Sheermaal, might
have instructed me in these things, but to
the heart that is filled with prejudice,
Wisdom lifteth up her voice in vain.

Nothing but experience could have
convinced me, that the cultivation of the R5v 250
the rational faculties, should, among the
Christian women of England, be so rare,
that no sooner can one of them emerge
from the depths of ignorance, than she
is suspected of assuming the airs of self-
importance and conceit. If she has the
knowledge of a school-boy, she is thought
vain of her learning. Nor are there
many men of sense among the Christians,
who would not prefer to the conversation
of such a woman, the impertinent
tattle of the frivolous, the capricious, and
the ignorant. Nor is this much to be
wondered at, when we consider, that, by
the pains taken, from the earliest infancy,
to sap the foundation of every solid improvement,
the imagination becomes
so much stronger than the judgement, that
of the small number of females who,
under all the disadvantages of custom
and prejudice, dare to distinguish themselves
by the cultivation of their talents,
few should do more than exchange one folly R6r 251
folly for another:—substitute the love of
theory, for the love of dress‒‒‒or an
admiration of the mental gewgaws of
flimsy sentiment, and high sounding declamation,
for that of trifles of another
kind.

But though I confess my error, and
acknowledge, that I deceived myself in
extending my notions of Christianity to
every Christian, and of excellence to every
female, of England, I still see some who
amply justify the expectations that were
formed by my sanguine mind. In Lady
Grey
and her daughters, I find all that
I had expected from the females of their
country; all that my friend Severan had
described.

With them, arrived the two youngest
daughters of Sir Caprice Ardent, one of
whom has received her education under
the care of Lady Grey, while the other
has to her Aunt, Miss Ardent, been indebteddebted R6v 252
for her instruction. At first sight,
one is struck with the similarity of their
features. They are both beauteous as the
opening rose-bud, when the dew of morning
trembles on its leaf. The eyes of each,
sparkling with vivacity, are dazzling as a
bright dagger suddenly unsheathed. They
are both shaped by the hand of elegance,
and both move with the same degree of
grace. Yet, notwithstanding this similarity,
the opposite characters impressed
by education is visible in each.—While
over the graces of Miss Caroline, is
thrown the bewitching veil of timidity,
and her every action is bound in the silken
fetters of decorum; the adopted daughter
of Miss Ardent speaks her sentiments
with an energy that has never known
restraint. Though open to conviction,
and ready to confess error with the candor
of a noble mind, she yields less to
the authority of persons, than to that
of reason; and it is easy to perceive, has R7r 253
has been early taught, that to be weak,
and to be amiable, are two very different
things.

An incident which occured to the
three sisters, in the course of their morning’s
walk, will serve to illustrate these
observations upon their characters.

It appears, that having strayed into a
narrow lane, they were frightened at the
appearance of a horse and cart, coming
towards them so quickly, as to leave
them no other method of escaping, than
to climb a steep bank, and get over the
pailing into their father’s park. Miss
Olivia
, with the activity of an Antelope,
led the way, and, with some difficulty,
assisted her sisters to follow her example.
Just as she had prevailed upon the terrified
Miss Julia, who long insisted upon
the impossibility of her making the attempt,
they beheld near them an old 4 man, R7v 254
man, who, excited by the screams and
promised rewards of Miss Julia, attempted
to lay hold of the horses. To stop them,
his feeble efforts were ineffectual; the
animals were too strong, and too spirited,
to be managed by his aged arm. After
a short struggle, the horses sprung over
him, and in a moment the mangled and
bleeding body was discovered lying, to
all appearance, lifeless, in the track which
the cart had passed.

Miss Julia redoubled her efforts to
escape; she succeeded, and flew to the
house, which she no sooner reached,
than, as is customary with young ladies
upon such occasions, she fainted away.
When she had fainted for a decent length
of time, she screamed, laughed, and cried
alternately, and continued long enough in
the second stage of fright, called “An Hysteric
Fit”
, to draw round her the greatest
part of the family. Indeed, there was full employment R8r 255
employment for them all. One held to her
nose a bunch of burnt feathers; another
chafed her temples with a drug, called
Hartshorn; a third held to her lips drops
and cordials, while the rest ran about
the room, opening the windows, ringing
the bells, and giving directions to the
servants.

While we were thus engaged, in flew
Miss Olivia. But what a figure! The
few tattered remnants of her muslin robe,
besmeared with blood, streamed in the
air; eagerness sparkled in her eyes, and
an unspeakable glow of ardour animated
her countenance. Totally unconcerned
for her sister, on whom, indeed, she seemed
to dart a look of contempt, she
hastily snatched the hartshorn, and the
cordials, and desiring, with a tone of
authority, all the men to follow her, she
again flew off, with the swiftness of a bird R8v 256
bird of Paradice, who has been frightened
by the voice of the hunter.

Miss Julia was left to recover as she
could. Every soul deserted her. Men
and maids, philosophers and footmen,
all hurried after the fair Olivia; who,
like the meteor which floats on the
dark-bosomed cloud of evening, was
seen gliding before us. At length we
reached the lane, and there, seated on the
ground, we beheld the twin-sister of
Olivia. Her fair arms supported the unfortunate
old man, whose wounded head,
reclined upon her lap. His wounds
were, however, bound up. The robe of
Olivia, having been torn in pieces for
the purpose. And now, with a tenderness
which equalled her activity, she
knelt at the old man’s side, and carried
to his pale lips the cordials she had, with
so little ceremony, snatched from her sister. S1r 257
sister. The old man at length so far
revived, as to pronounce, with feeble
but impressive accents, the blessings of
his God on the angel-forms who had
saved his life. He was with all possible
care, by the direction of the two Ladies,
carried up to the house. A surgeon was
immediately sent for, who, on examining
his wounds, declared them to be of such
a nature, that if he had not received the
assistance bestowed upon him by the two
Ladies, he must inevitably have perished.
“Then,” cried the lovely Caroline, “it
is to my sister Olivia, that he owes his
life!—But for her, I should have followed
my sister Julia into the house,
to call for help; it was Olivia alone,
who had the courage to return to him,
and the presence of mind to afford him
relief.”
“No, Caroline;” replied Olivia,
“without you, I could have done nothing.
When I looked back, and saw how
the poor man bled, I knew he could not Vol. II. S live, S1v 258
live, without assistance; but it was you,
by whome the assistance was principally
bestowed.”
“Don’t speak any more
about it, for Heaven’s sake!”
cried Miss
Julia
; “the very thoughts of it makes
me sick. I would not have looked at
him, for a thousand worlds! I wonder how
you could have so little sensibility!”

“Sensibility, my dear neice,” said
Lady Grey, “is but too often another
word for selfishness. Believe me, that
that sensibility which turns with disgust
from the sight of misery it has the
power to relieve, is not of the right
kind. To weep at the imaginary tale
of sorrow exhibited in a Novel or
a Tragedy, is to indulge a feeling, in
which there is neither vice nor virtue:
but when the compassion which touches
the heart, leads the hands to afford relief,
and benevolence becomes a principle
of action; it is then, and then only, that S2r 259
that it is truly commendable.”
“I perceive
that your Ladyship has studied Mr.
Hume’s
Principles of General Utility,”

said Mr. Axiom. “No,” said Mr. Puzzledorf;
“it is evident, her Ladyship
has taken her opinions from my Essay on
the Eternal and Necessary Fitness and Congruity
of Things
.”
“I have taken them,”
said her Ladyship, “from the doctrines
and examples of Jesus Christ and his
Apostles.”

In this life, “composed of good and
bad,”
this younger sister of the Baronet
has had her share of calamity. Her
marriage with Sir Philip Grey, was an
union of mutual affection, founded on
mutual esteem, and productive of mutual
felicity.

Though a Baronet, his estate was not
extensive; and from it, a numerous
family of brothers and sisters were to be S2 provided S2v 260
provided with fortunes, suited to their
birth. Sir Philip and his Lady, having
the same views and opinions, easily settled
the plan of their future life. They
took the management of their estate into
their own hands: taste and elegance became
a substitute for splendor: and the
propriety of domestic arrangement, amply
compensated for the absence of a few
articles of superfluous luxury. But though
they retrenched in ostentation, they decreased
not in hospitality; their house was
the refuge of the distressed, the home of
merit, and the central point of all the
genius and the talent which the surrounding
country could boast. In addition to
the care of their fortune, they took upon
themselves the sole care of the education
of their children.—But, notwithstanding
all these avocations, they still found
time for the pursuit of literature, for
which their taste remained undiminished.
Lady Grey was not only (as is universallysally S3r 261
the custom in this country)It is by some of the Hindoo authors, mentioned
as one of the indispensible qualities of a
good wife—“that she never presumes to eat, until
her husband has finished.”
the
companion of her husband’s table—but
the partner of his studies; and by him,
her opinions were as much respected, as
her person was beloved.

Years rolled on, and each returning
season saw an increase of the happiness
of this well-matched pair. But who can
give stability to the felicity of mortals?
While yet in the prime of life, this
amiable and happy husband was seized
by the ruthless hand of disease, in whose
rude grasp, the vigour of life was blasted,
and the gay hopes of future enjoyment
dashed on the rocks of disappointment.
His senses, of which he suffered a temporary
deprivation, were gradually restored;
but the wheels of life were clogged; S3 the S3v 262
the vital fluid stagnated in the veins, or
moved with such lingering and unequal
pace, as was unequal to the re-animation
of the palsied limbs: nor did
he ever recover a sufficient degree of
strength, to enable him to quit his apartment.
In such a situation, in vain would
a man have looked for consolation to
the pretty face of a fool. In vain would
he have expected it from the trifling accomplishments,
to the acquirement of
which, the most precious years of life
are commonly devoted. Alas! though
Lady Grey could have spoken French,
with the fluency of a Parisian; though
she could have danced with the grace of
an angel; though she could have painted
a flower, or a butterfly, even without the
assistance of her drawing-master, and run
over the keys of her harpsichord with
the most astonishing rapidity—little comfort
would it have given to the heart of
her sick husband.

In S4r 263

In an understanding enriched by the
accumulations of Wisdom, a temper regulated
by the precepts of Christianity,
and a heart replete with tenderness, Sir
Philip
found a more solid resource. By
these endowments, was his Lady enabled
to manage the affairs of her family, and
the concerns of his estate; to watch over
the education of her children; and, by
the unremitting attentions of endearing
affection, to cheer the spirits that were
broken by confinement, and soothe the
sufferings of a bed of pain. Nor was
the performance of these multifarious
duties the sudden effect of a short-lived
energy. During the six years in which
her husband lingered under the partial
dominion of death, the fortitude of his
Lady remained unshaken, her perseverance
unabated, and when at length
his soul was suffered to depart from the
decayed mansion of mortality, though
her heart was possessed with too much S4 sensibility, S4v 264
sensibility, not to feel with sorrow the
stroke of separation, the assured hope
of a re-union with the object of her
affections, in the regions of immortality,
afforded consolation to her wounded
mind.—Yes, Maandaara, notwithstanding
all I have said in favour of this excellent
woman, truth obliges me to confess, that
the powers of her mind are not sufficiently
enlarged to embrace the doctrines
of Atheism! She is blind enough, not
to perceive the evident superiority of
any of the systems of the philosophers
to the Christian faith; and weakly
asserts, that if all that was taught by
Jesus Christ and his Apostles, was generally
practised, it would be no great injury
to the happiness of society.—She
takes great pleasure in the contemplation
of a future state, and carries her prejudices
so far, as to declare, that she considers
the account of it, as given in Scripture,
as little less easy of belief, than the S5r 265
the system of Mr. Puzzledorf; and
that she finds it more satisfactory to rest
her hopes on the promises of her Saviour,
than on the permanent existence
of the little imperishable stamina at the
top of the nose!!

Not contented with making the precepts
and doctrines of Christianity the
guide of her own conduct, she has
endeavoured to instill them into the
minds of her children; and so well has
she succeeded, that her eldest son, at the
age of nineteen, though possessed of an
uncommon degree of learning, sense,
and spirit–––is not ashamed to confess
that he is a Christian!

Alas! S5v 266

Alas! my friend, how shall I inform
you of the events of this morning?—
The number of philosophers is diminished!
The promising sprout of Infidelity,
whose early genius gave such hopes of
future greatness—he, by the prowess of
whose pen, it was expected that religion
should be routed from the world—the
nephew of Doctor Sceptic—this morning,
took the privilege of a philosopher,
and shot himself through the head!

As I find upon enquiry, that this is a
privilege which is often claimed, and a
practice, that is very common with the
philosophers of England, I suppose it is
found to be conducive to general utility,
and agreeable to the eternal and necessary
congruity and fitness of things.

The existing circumstances which impelled
this young man to make so philosophicalsophical S6r 267
an exit, have been, to all appearance,
fully explained; and as you may
have some curiosity concerning them,
I shall briefly state them for your perusal.

It appears that his father, a man of
rigid morals and austere devotion, who
lived in the exercise of much piety towards
God, and much charity to his
fellow-creatures, some years ago, received
into his family the orphan neice
of his wife. She was educated with his
own children, and shared with them the
benefit of his instructions and the tenderness
of his paternal love. Her beauty
made an early impression upon the heart of
her cousin, and such was her merit in the
eyes of the old man, that, preferring the
happiness of his son, to the aggrandizement
of his family, he consented that their
union should take place, as soon as the
young man should have attained his one and S6v 268
and twentieth year. It was agreed, that
he should employ the interval in what is
called an Attendance upon the Temple;
and, according to a previous invitation
from his uncle, Doctor Sceptic, should
during that period take up his residence
at his house, in the capital.–––There the
young man had not long resided, till a
new light burst upon his eyes; he saw
things as he had never seen them before:
saw that religion was a bug-bear, made
to keep the vulgar in awe:—saw that his
father was a fool; and, as I have before
mentioned, learnt to laugh at his prejudices
and his piety, in a very edifying
manner.

In the summer, he returned into the
country; found his cousin lovely and
affectionate as ever, and had no great
difficulty in initiating her into all the
mysteries of Scepticism. They both found
it a charming thing to be so much wiser 1 than S7r 269
than their instructors; and wondered
they could so long have been blinded by
prejudices, whose absurdities were so
obvious. The young man went again
to town, became every day more enlightened,
and soon discovered that
marriage was a piece of priest-craft—an
ignoble bondage—a chain, which no man
of honour
should submit to wear.

He hastened to return to the country,
to communicate to his cousin this important
discovery. Finding some difficulty
in convincing her understanding
of the truth of this new doctrine, he applied
to the softness of her heart; he pretended
to doubt of her affection, appealed
to her generosity, and—completed
her ruin.

Still the poor girl was not sufficiently
convinced of the propriety of her conduct,
not to entertain some doubts and apprehensions S7v 270
apprehensions, which the young philosopher
soon grew tired of hearing. Finding
that their connection could not be
much longer concealed, she grew more
importunate, and he listened to her importunity
with increased indifference.
At length, to avoid her remonstrances,
he came to Ardent Hall, where he had
been introduced by his Uncle, who made
the offer of his services to assist Sir Caprice
in writing his Book upon the Supremacy
of Reason
, with which the Baronet
is soon to enlighten the world.—
The young man willingly engaged in
the task. But fatal are the effects of
early prejudices to the peace of a philosopher!
His thoughts became gloomy;
his speech has often of late been incoherent;
and every action betrayed the
restlessness of a mind at war with itself.
Even his zeal against the advocates of
Christianity, had in it a degree of bitterness
which shewed that they still retainedtained S8r 271
an authority over his mind, at
which, though his pride revolted, his
understanding could not conquer.

For the last few days, he had appeared
to exert more than usual spirits. He
laughed, when he had no occasion;
talked, when he had nothing to say;
and sedulously sought the company of
the Ladies, whom he had before neglected
with the frigidity of indifference.
Yesterday evening, his spirits were raised
to a pitch which gave reason to suspect
intoxication. When he retired to his
chamber, it appears that he did not go
to bed, but employed himself in writing
letters to his father, all of which he had
again torn, and scattered about the room.
At four o’clock in the morning, the report
of a pistol was heard: the family
were instantly alarmed; the door of his
chamber was broken open; and, on entering
it, the first object that presented itself S8v 272
itself to view, was the lifeless corse of
the young philosopher, extended on the
floor.

On the table at which he had been
writing, lay two letters. The first was
from his father, and feelingly descriptive
of the agony of a parent’s heart, on
the first discovery of a son’s unworthiness.
The other was from his cousin.
It pourtrayed the picture of a virtuous
mind, struggling with the dread of infamy,
bitterly regretting the loss of
peace and self-respect, and gently reproaching
the author of its calamities,
for depriving her of that hope which is
the resource of the wretched, the comfort
of the penitent, and the sovereign balm
for the evils of life! “To her,” she said,
“hope was a shadow, which had passed
away. Once, there was a time, when
she could have smiled at calamity, endured
the severity of pain with unshrinkinging T1r 273
resignation, and, supported by faith,
have cheerfully resigned her soul into the
bosom of her Creator. Now, doubt and
darkness sat upon the realm of death;
she feared to die, but she had not courage
to live.—Death,”
she said, “was the only
refuge of despair; to it she fled, to save
her from the reproaches of the world,
and the torments of her own perturbed
mind”
—and with an affecting apostrophe
to the days of unspotted innocence,
this unhappy creature concludes
her melancholy epistle; which, it seems,
she had no sooner written, than she put
an end to her existence, by plunging into
the sea!

Such has been the effects of performing
poojah to System, in the family of
the Sceptics!

Ah! how little do the Christians of
this country consider the nature and Vol. II. T extent T1v 274
extent of the obligations they are under
to those enlightened men, whose indefatigable
endeavour it is, to free them from
the narrow prejudices of their religion!
O, ye incomparable moralists, who so
freely blow out your own brains, from a
sense of general utility, little doth the
world consider how much it is indebted
to your labours!

Reverence to Ganesa!

The previous arguments of the philosophers
in praise of suicide, had not sufficiently
enlightened the minds of the
family of Ardent-Hall, to prevent their
regarding the death of young Sceptic
as a melancholy catastrophe! Though
the difference of character gave a variety
to the expression of their feelings, all appeared T2r 275
appeared to feel. The shock was universal.

The worshippers of System, and the
votaries of Christianity, appeared, indeed,
to be affected in a very opposite manner.
The former, who had, till this event, been
so clamorous in support of the pretensions
of their Idols, were all at once struck
dumb. Not one appeal was now made
to existing circumstances. Not one ray of
hope darted from the the age of reason. Nor
did either general utility, or the fitness of
things
, appear in this juncture, to afford
any comfort to their votaries. But while
the lips of the philosophers were sealed
in silence, those of the Christian religionists
were opened. Their prejudices,
indeed, appeared to have gained fresh
strength: these prejudices, which are calculated
to foster the sensibility of the
tender heart, and to encrease the feelings
of sympathy, seemed likewise endowed T2 with T2v 276
with power to support their votaries in
the hour of affliction, to soften the rigour
of anguish, and to preserve from the
tyranny of despair.

It must be confessed, that Lady Grey,
amiable as she is, had not sufficient greatness
of mind to applaud the heroism of
the young philosopher, or to speak of
his last action—but with a mixture of
pity, horror, and regret. With much
feeling, did she deplore his having ever
imbibed the liberal opinions that led to
the destruction of his wife; the murder
of his child; his own death, and the
misery of his family.

The consolation of that unhappy family
was the first object of her concern.
Having seen Lady Ardent and the young
Ladies set off for the house of a friend,
to which they had been invited on the
first accounts of the melancholy event; she T3r 277
she hastened to the house of affliction;
there to mingle the tears of sympathy;
to speak comfort to the wounded heart;
and, by sharing in its sorrows, to lessen
their severity.–––Such, Maandaara, are
the offices pointed out by the prejudices
of Christianity!

Deeming it improper at such a juncture,
to incommode the family by the
presence of a stranger, I took my leave
of Sir Caprice Ardent, and left the Hall,
impressed with a deep sense of the kindness
and hospitality I had experienced
beneath its roof.

Full of melancholy, I proceeded, without
having fully determined on the route
I was to pursue. To London, I was
averse to return, and yet knew not how
otherwise to dispose of myself. As I was
debating this point with myself, while
the horses were putting to my carriage, T3 at T3v 278
at the third stage of my journey, a
chaise drove up to the Inn. From it
alighted a gentleman—but, O ye Gods
of my fathers! what was my surprize,
on beholding, in this gentleman, my former
guest Mr. Denbeigh, the friend of
PiercyPercy! He, who had at Chunar, loaded
me with so many marks of kindness
and affection! Soon as the flutter of
spirits which always accompanies an unexpected
meeting, was a little subsided,
he took from his port-folio a packet, on
which I soon recognized the hand-writing
of Maandaara. How did my heart beat
at the sight! I tear open the seals—I
read. I hear of the welfare of my friend,
of the health of my child. Ah! my son!
my son! What tender emotions does
the mention of thy name raise in my
bosom! When shall the soft cheek of my
child, be patted by his father’s hand?
When shall my ears be gratified by the
delicious music of my darling’s gentle voice? T4r 279
voice? Detested spirit of curiosity! too
long have I sacrificed to thee the truest,
sweetest joys, that gem the period of
existence!

My heart is too full to proceed. May
He, who is Lord of the Keepers of the
eight corners of the World, preserve
thee! May the adored wife of Veeshnu
be the friend of my child!!

Denbeigh, at the time I met him,
was on his way to the place of his nativity.
He requested me to accompany
him to his father’s house; and found in
me no disposition to reject a proposal so
agreeable to my inclination. We proceeded
together in the same carriage.
Conversed of India–––of our friends at T4 Calcutta. T4v 280
Calcutta:—talked of all the little incidents
that had occurred during my residence
in that city; the most trivial of
which, appeared interesting to the memory,
on account of the pleasing ideas
with which it was associated. Swiftly
flew the wheels of our chariot, but more
swiftly flew the rolling hours, which were
occupied by this sort of conversation.

About noon, on the second day of
our journey, we, by the direction of
Denbeigh, struck into a narrow bye-road,
which following the course of a clear
stream, winded through the midst of a
narrow valley. As we entered upon this
road, the agitation of my companion became
apparent. Every object that we
passed, caused his heart to heave with
tender emotion. In every shrub he recognized
an old acquaintance, and in
every tree he seemed to discover a long
lost friend. “Let us stop here,” said he, T5r 281
he, at a turn of the road: “the bridge
for carriages is half a mile off, but I can
take you a nearer way.”
So saying, he
leaped out of the carriage, and I followed
his example. My friend surveyed the
scene around, and the soft tear of delight
glistened in his eyes. “There,” said he,
stands the old thorn, which, at the close
of evening, I used to pass with such hasty
steps, not daring to look behind, from
terror of the fairies, who were said to
hold their nightly revels beneath its
boughs. Ah! there is the wood, whose
filberts were so tempting. There the
pool, where I first ventured to beat the
wave with my feeble arm. On the outstretched
branch of yonder beach, was
suspended the swing, in which I have so
often tossed my little sisters, who, half
pleased and half afraid, squalled and
laughed by turns, as they were made to
fly through the yielding air.”

We T5v 282

We had now reached a little rustic
gate leading into an orchard, in one of
the broad walks of which, we beheld an
aged pair, enjoying the smiles of the
meridian Sun. A little boy and girl
sported beside them, joyously picking
up the apples, that lay hidden in the
grass.

Our approach was at length perceived.
The old gentleman paused, and leaning
on his staff, endeavoured to recognize
us. The emotion of {Handwritten deletion: Douglas} end of handwritten deletion {Handwritten addition: Denbeigh} end of handwritten addition encreased.
—He bounded forward—and taking
a hand of each—while the bursting
sensations of his heart choaked his utterance
—gazed for a moment on the revered
faces of his parents, and in the next, was
in their arms. His poor mother could
not, for a few minutes, reconcile herself
to the darkness of his complexion, which
fourteen years spent beneath the lustre of
an Indian sky had changed from the fair red T6r 283
red and white, such as now adorns the
face of his little nephew, to the deep
brown shade, that marks the European
Asiatic. The good Lady gently pushed
him from her, to examine more minutely
the features whose more delicate lines
were engraven on her memory. He
smiled.—In that smile, she recognized
the peculiar expression of her darling’s
face, and fondly pressed him to her maternal
bosom.

During this scene, I stood a silent and
unobserved spectator; nor was it till after
a considerable length of time, that Denbeigh
sufficiently recollected himself to
introduce me to his parents. To be called
the friend of their son, ensured my welcome;
but, that I might not be any restraint
on their conversation, I attached
myself to the little folks, to whom Uncle
Henry
was no more than any other
stranger.

As T6v 284

As we approached the house, I observed,
at an open window which
fronts the orchard, a lovely girl, who
seemed to view the party with a greater
degree of interest, than curiosity alone
could possibly inspire. Twice she came
to the door, and twice returned irresolute.
At length, she was observed by
one of my little companions, who running
towards her, called out, “Uncle Henry
is come! Uncle Henry is come!”
the
words gave wings to her willing feet,
she flew down the walk, and in a minute
her beauteous face was hid in the bosom
of her brother.

The shrill voice of my little friend,
had reached farther than the parlour.
By the time we entered the Hall, the
servants were assembled.–––The old nurse
was the first who pressed forward to
salute the stranger—by whom she was
received with the kindness due to her
affection and fidelity. Two other domestic2 mestic T7r 285
companions of his youth still remained
in the family: tears spoke the
sincerity of the many welcomes they
bestowed on the traveller; while the
hearty good-will with which he received
their salutations, gave a convincing proof,
that neither time nor distance had changed
the dispositions of his heart.

Mr. Denbeigh, with that delicacy of attention
which is peculiar to a few chosen
minds, provided for me an apartment
in a detached house, where my Hindoo
servants were furnished with every requisite
for preparing our simple meals
according to the religion and customs
of our country. To this apartment I
retired during the dining hour of the
family; and by the time I returned, I
found that an acquisition had been made
to the happy party of united friends, by
the arrival of the two married daughters
of Mr. Denbeigh, accompanied by the husband T7v 286
husband of the eldest. The countenance
of this gentleman justified the character
given him by Denbeigh, of worth and
good-nature. He was bred to business,
and has by instustryindustry and application, obtained
an ample share of the gifts of fortune,
which he enjoys with cheerfulness,
and bestows with the frankness of a generous
heart. His wife seems happy in
his affection, and in the enjoyment of a
degree of good temper equal to his
own.

The countenance of the second sister
bears a stronger resemblance to that of
my friend; it speaks a soul endowed with
superior powers; a more refined sensibility,
a more lively perception, a more
cultivated taste. When the arrival of
her husband (who had been detained by
the business of his profession, which is
that of a Physician) was announced, I
marked the emotion of her spirits. She presented T8r 287
presented him to her brother, with an
air that seemed to demand his approbation
of her choice; nor was she disappointed:
the appearance of the young
man was too prepossessing to fail of
making an immediate interest in the
favour of my friend, whose sentiments
were no sooner perceived by his sister,
who eagerly watched them in the expression
of his countenance, than her eyes
sparkled with delight.–––In a few minutes
more, my friend had the pleasure of embracing
his two brothers: the eldest, who
is a year his senior, is now priest of the
neighbouring village. A man of mild
aspect, and gentle manners. At an early
age, he made a sacrifice of ambition to
love, and married a young woman, whose
dower was made up of beauty and good
temper.

Of the numerous offspring with which
she has presented him, the two eldest reside T8v 288
reside with their grandfather–––the youngest
has but two days seen the light; and
all the others their uncles have promised
to provide for. So that the good man
looks with a smiling aspect upon futurity.

The youngest brother of my friend, is
a Professor of the Art of Surgery. A
dapper little gentleman, with a smart
wit, and perfumed handkerchief. His
brother Henry says, he is a little affected
by a disorder called Puppyism, but that he
has sufficient stamina in his constitution
to conquer the disease; which, it seems, is
a very common one at his time of life.

Never did Calli,Time. in the progress of
his eventful journey, behold a happier
circle than that which now surrounded
the hearth of Mr. Denbeigh. When I
saw them sit down at the supper-table,
I began to think the custom of social meals U1r 289
meals not altogether so ridiculous as I
had hitherto considered it. At the conclusion
of the repast, the cordial wish of
health was mutually exchanged; and a
glass filled with generous wine, was
pressed to the lips of each, in token of
sincerity. The cheerful song went round:
every voice was in unison to strains of
joy, and every countenance was irradiated
with the smile of satisfaction. Before
they parted for the night, the old gentleman,
according to a very strange custom
of his own, knelt down in the middle
of his own family, and while the tear of joy
strayed down his venerable cheeks, offered
up the sacrifice of thanksgiving to the
throne of the Eternal!

Alas! this poor gentleman is not
sufficiently enlightened to perform poojah
to System. He has never been
convinced, that vice and virtue are only
qualities of imagination; and is deplorablyVol. II. U plorably U1v 290
ignorant of all theories, save
that of a good conscience.—Nor has his
wife advanced one step farther than himself,
towards throwing off the prejudices
of Christianity.–––And what is still worse
–––the manner in which they have rivetted
these prejudices in the minds of their
children, scarcely admits a hope, that any
of them will ever become converts to
Atheism, or have sufficient spirit to exchange
the morality of their Shaster, for
the doctrine of external circumstances.
On making enquiry of my friend concerning
the cause of this phenomena, he
informed me, that his father and mother,
who were of different sects of Christians,
agreed, that the religion taught their
children should not be indebted for its
support to the peculiar dogmas of either;
but should chiefly rest on the authority
of that Shaster, which has so deeply incurred
the displeasure of the philosophers.
–––His mother was the daughter of U2r 291
of a priest of the sect of Dissenters, who
had bestowed such particular pains on the
cultivation of her understanding, actually
qualified her for conducting the education
of her own children.

It is, perhaps, to this uncommon and
extraordinary circumstance, that the children
of Mr. Denbeigh are indebted for
many of those peculiarities which at present
distinguish their characters. It is
from this cause, that the daughters have
become learned, without losing their humility:
that they are gay, without being
frivolous: that in conversation, their
sprightliness is free from the lightness of
vanity, and their seriousness from the
arrogance of self-conceit. Mrs. Denbeigh,
not considering the preservation of
ignorance absolutely necessary towards
the perfection of the female character,
never sent her daughters to the seminaries
that are established for that purpose, but U2 suffered U2v 292
suffered them from infancy to partake
with their brothers in every advantage
of solid instruction.—Being early taught
to make a just estimate of things, they
learned how to value the performance
of every duty; nor was their attention
towards those annexed by custom to their
situation, lessened from a consideration
of their simplicity. In their minds the
torch of knowledge was too fully lit, to
lead to the dangerous path of singularity,
into which unwary females have by its
feeble glimmering, been so oft betrayed.
I can almost venture to assert, that the
blooming Emma, at this moment manages
the domestic economy of her father’s
house, with as much prudence and
activity as could be expected from the
most ignorant and accomplished female
that ever issued from a genteel boarding-
school
. That she is as dutiful, as affectionate,
as obedient to her parents, as if
she had never looked into any book but a Novel; U3r 293
Novel; and will regard their memory with
as much filial veneration, as if they had
never furnished her mind with an idea,
or taught her any other duty, save how
to dress and play at cards!!

The week that has elapsed since my
arrival at Violet-Dale, has been spent in
alternate visits to the sons, and sons-in-
law of Mr. Denbeigh. As the most beautiful
symmetry of feature eludes the skill
of the painter, so do the quiet satisfactions
of life, though sources of the
truest pleasure, bid defiance to the powers
of description: I shall therefore of
this week only mention one little incident,
which pleased, in spite of its simplicity.

U3 On U3v 294

On the second day after our arrival,
while Mr. and Mrs. Denbeigh, and the
lovely Emma, were listening, with looks
of complacency and delight, to the recital
made by my friend of some of his
adventures in India, Mr. Denbeigh was
informed, that a person wanted to speak
with him.–––It was a country-man, who
being by universal consent, admitted into
the parlour, declared his business. It
was, to pay to the old gentleman a small
sum of money, which, it appeared, had
been lent, with little prospect of return.
He received for his punctuality, the encouragement
of praise; and Emma, unbidden,
arose from her embroidery, to
present him some wine for himself, and
sweet-cake to take home to his children.
The poor man was, by this kindness, emboldened
to loquacity. “Yes,” said he to
Mr. Denbeigh, “I defy the whole world to
say, that Gilbert Grub ever remained one
hour in any man’s debt, after he was able to U4r 295
to get out of it. And as your honour
was so good to me in my necessity, and
lent to me when no one else would, it
was good reason to pay your honour first.
But, perhaps, you have not heard of the
strange behaviour of Mr. Darnley?”

“Mr. Darnley!” repeated Emma,
suspending her work to listen.

“What of Mr. Darnley?” said Mr.
Denbeigh
.

“Why, Sir, you must know,” said the
peasant, “that Old Benjamin Grub, who
lived in one of Mr. Darnley’s free cottages,
to whom, I am sure, both your
honour and these two good ladies have
given many and many a shilling, died on
Friday was eight days; and on opening
his will, who do you think he should have
left his sole heir, but Mr. Darnley?”

U4 “What U4v 296

“What could the poor creature have
to leave?”
said Mrs. Denbeigh. “He
was the very picture of wretchedness.”

“Ay, so he was,” returned the garrulous
old man; “and that was the very
way he took to scrape together such a
mine of wealth. Would you believe it,
Madam? In the very rags that covered
him, fifty golden guineas were concealed,
and a hundred more were found in his
house; but no matter for that, if it had
been ten times as much, it all went to
Mr. Darnley.—And though to be sure,
we could not blame him for taking it
—yet some of us thought it main hard,
that while so many of his own flesh and
blood were in a starving condition, all
this store of wealth should go to one who
had enough of his own.”

“But whilst his own relations left
him to starve, had he not been supported by U5r 297
by Mr. Darnley’s bounty?”
said Mr.
Denbeigh
.

“Aye, that is true,” said the peasant:
“but, as old Sam Grub of the Mill, says,
if any one of us had a-known of his
wealth, we would all have been as kind
to him as the ’Squire.”

“Mr. Darnley ought certainly to have
made some present to the old man’s relations,”
said Mr. Denbeigh. “Aye, Sir, I
thought he might ha’ given some small
thing among us,”
said the peasant; “but
never could have imagined, that he would
have behaved in the way he did.”

“Go on,” said Mr. Douglas, knitting
his brows.

The cheek of Emma grew pale: she
took up her needle, but remained in the attitude U5v 298
attitude of attention, while the peasant
proceeded.

“You must know, Sir, that after having
had a long confabulation with the
Sexton, who is himself a Grub, the first
thing the ’Squire did, was to send for all
the Grubs in the parish, man and woman,
to come to the funeral. Some of us were
so much stomached, that we did not much
like to go. But, says I, though Benjamin
had been unnatural to us, that is no
reason that we should be unnatural to
him. So we all went yesterday morning,
at the hour appointed, and found all
things prepared for the funeral–––and a
gallant funeral it was; it would have done
good to the heart of any of his friends to
have seen it. When we returned from the
church-yard, Mr. Darnley, who was himself
chief mourner, desired us all to go
back with him to Ben’s Cottage, where
wine was poured out for us by Mr. 3 Darnley’s U6r 299
Darnley’s
butler, who is himself a very
grand gentleman.—When we had drank
a glass, Mr. Darnley got up, and said—
‘My friends,’ says he, ‘I hope none of
you will have any cause to repent the
choice made by your kinsman of a
trustee, for the distribution of his property,
for I cannot look upon his Will in
any other light.—Here are twenty of
you present. Ten grand-children of his
brothers, and as many descendants from
his Uncles. To the first I have allotted
ten guineas each, to the latter five, which
disposes of the whole hundred and fifty
found in his possession–‒–and I hope it
is a division with which you will all be
satisfied.’
We all cried out with one
voice, that his honour was too good!
too generous! that he should at least,
keep one half to himself. ‘God forbid!’
said he, ‘that I should take a
farthing, that my conscience told me,
was the property of another!’
–––And he looked U6v 300
looked so pleased, and so good humoured!
and we were all so astounded with
delight! for your honour must know,
that ten guineas to a poor man, is a
mighty sum! Ah! your honour can have
no notion what it is, when a man has
been working from hand to mouth, now
scrambling to get out of debt, and then
falling back into poverty—what it is to
be at once, as I may say, set above the
world!”

The eyes of Emma glistened with delight,
and the sweet tint of the opening
rose-bud again mantled over her lovely
cheek.—The peasant continued—

“Well, Sir, we were scarcely come to
our senses, as I may say, when Farmer
Stubble’s
cart came to the door, with old
Martha Grub, who kept the penny-school
on the Green Common, and who broke
her leg last year on going up to the henroost.roost. U7r 301
We had every one of us forgotten
old Martha, but were all willing to club
her share, ‘No, no,’ said the ’Squire; ‘you
must all keep what you have got, it was
my fault, for not being better informed;
but Martha shall be no loser,’
said he;
‘will give her five guineas out of my own
pocket!’
—Who would have thought he
would have behaved in such a manner?”

“It was indeed acting very handsomely,”
said Mr. Denbeigh.

“Noble, generous Darnley!” said Emma.
“It is just what I would have expected
from him!”

The old man took his leave.—“And
pray,”
says my friend, as soon as he was
gone, “who is Mr. Darnley? Is it he
whom I well remember breaking down
your fences, in following his fox-hounds?”

“No, no,” returned Mr. Denbeigh, “that was U7v 302
was the elder brother of this Darnley, who
was then, in obedience to the will of his
father, preparing for the Bar. He was,
as you have just heard, too fond of Justice,
to be very partial to the practice of
the Law; and on the death of that elder
brother, who broke his neck one morning
in hunting, he came down to Darnley-Lodge,
where he has ever since
resided.

He was soon discovered to be a very
strange, whimsical sort of a creature, by
the neighbouring ’Squires.–––The sufferings
of a poor timorous animal, harassed
by fatigue, and tortured by the agonizing
sensations of excessive fear, were not necessary
for his amusement. He could
enjoy much pleasure in walking over a
fine country, without being the butcher
of either hare or partridge: and take
delight in rambling by the side of our
river, though his heart never felt the triumph U8r 303
triumph of beholding the dying struggles
of a poor trout, or exulted in its
writhing agony while tearing the barbed
dart from its lacerated entrails. His
mind sought for other objects of gratification.
The study of Mineralogy and
Botany, an exquisite relish for the beauties
of Nature, refined by an acquaintance
with the sister arts of Poetry and Painting,
gave sufficient interest to the rural
scenery, without any aid from the misery of
inoffensive animals. To the amusements
of elegant Literature, he has added those
of Agricultural improvement. He comes
here to take my advice about the latter;
and on the former, I believe, he comes
to consult Emma, who will give you
the best account of his taste.”

Emma at that moment very suddenly
recollected something she had left in her
own room, for which she went in great
haste, and the old Gentleman proceeded. “At U8v 304
“At the time that our acquaintance with
Mr. Darnley commenced, Emma was in
her seventeenth year. He found her mind
more cultivated than is common with
girls of that age, and took delight in improving
her already formed taste. His
conversation was far superior, in point of
elegance and information, to that of any
person she had ever met with: besides, it
must be confessed, that there is a charm
in the manners of a man who has
seen something of the world, and been
accustomed to move in the upper circles
of life, which is very captivating to a delicate
mind. I saw the impression that
was made on my poor Emma’s, and
trembled for the peace of my sweet child.
I feared, that by acquiring a taste for
that sort of refinement of sentiment and
manners, which is so rarely to be met
with in the country, she might injure her
future happiness. I know not if Darnley
perceived my uneasiness, but he soon took X1r 305
took an opportunity of speaking to me
on the subject. He told me, that his
affection for my daughter should long
ago have led him to make proposals to
me on her account, but that the disparity
of their ages had rendered him anxious
to make such an interest in her esteem,
as might supply the place of that romantic
passion, which, during the reign of
fancy, is deemed essential to nuptial happiness.
I approved of his conduct, and
told him, that in regard to my daughters,
I had laid down a rule to which I had
invariably adhered, and that was, never
to give my consent to their entering into
any engagement, before they had entered
their twentieth year.”

“Then you did not intend they should
marry Nabobs,”
said my friend. “Why,
we Indians, never think of any thing beyond
sixteen.”

Vol. II. X “Then X1v 306

“Then you do not think of the blessing
of mutual happiness,”
said his father.
“Why not?” returned my friend. “We
think of happiness in the possession of
youth and beauty; and our young wives
think of it in the enjoyment of our
fortunes.—Is not this being mutually
happy?”
“Short-lived happiness!”
rejoined his father, “which is certainly
extinguished by satiety, and probably
succeeded by disgust.–––The first sight
sympathy of souls,”
continued Mr. Denbeigh,
“is laughed at by any well educated
girl; but such an union of minds
as includes a similarity of taste and sentiment;
–––such a degree of esteem as is
essential to mutual confidence, is, in my
opinion, absolutely necessary between two
people, who are to be bound in partnership
for life. And is a girl of sixteen a
proper judge of the qualities necessary
for such an union?”
–––“But, if I mistake
not,”
returned my friend, “the age of Mr. X2r 307
Mr. Darnley very nearly doubles that
of my sister.”
“True,” replied the old
Gentleman; “but Mr. Darnley does not
marry Emma merely on account of her
pretty face. Neither does she bestow
her affections on his fortune. The tender
friendship that already subsists between
them, is cemented by esteem for
real virtues.–––If it had been otherwise,
it is not Mr. Darnley’s fortune (though
far beyond what a child of mine is by
any means entitled to) that should have
tempted me to witness the sacrifice of
her future peace.”

Here the good Gentleman was interrupted
by the entrance of this very Mr.
Darnley
, who had come to pay his compliments
to the family, on the arrival of
my friend. His noble aspect and graceful
manner, apparently justified all that
had been said in his favour; and the sweet
blushes that spread themselves over the X2 countenance X2v 308
countenance of the fair maiden, on
unexpectedly beholding him–––told, that
the old Gentleman had not been wrong
in his conjectures, concerning the state
of her heart.

But what does Maandaara think of
the doctrine of Mr. Denbeigh? Not
suffer a daughter to enter into an engagement
of marriage before she is twenty!
–––Twenty!–––why twenty is old enough
for a grandmother!––‒I fear the reasonings
of Mr. Denbeigh would make as
few converts in Hindoostan, as in the
English seminaries, where young Ladies
are genteelly educated.

We have just returned from spending
the day with the eldest daughter of Mr.
Denbeigh
.

The X3r 309

The company assembled were numerous
and gay, and the entertainment
given them by the Merchant, was at once
substantial and splendid.—I should not,
however, have thought of mentioning it,
but for the sake of one of the guests,
whose behaviour will give you some idea
of the manners and conversation of such
people of style as are suffered to go abroad
after the loss of their senses.—When such
people visit, they make use of the company
as their Chubdars; The servant whose business it is to proclaim
the titles.
and always
keep them waiting for their appearance
such a length of time, as may give them
sufficient opportunity for discussing their
birth, titles, and situation. This Lady
was accordingly announced, before her
appearance, to be the wise of a recruiting
officer, and fifteenth cousin to an Irish
Lord—a circumstance, of which we
might have remained in ignorance, had X3 she X3v 310
she arrived at the same time with the
rest of the company.

When she entered, the height of the
chowry that adorned her head; the
length of the train of silk which followed
her into the room, and which did not
disdain to wipe the feet of the gentlemen;
the scanty size of the veil of modesty,
which covered, or rather which
did not cover, her bosom; the quickness
of her step, the undaunted assurance of
her mein–––all spoke the consciousness of
her own superiority. I listened to her
conversation with the most respectful attention,
till she mentioned a circumstance,
that at once struck me with astonishment
and horror. “London,” she said,
“was now become quite a desert, not a
single being remained in town.”
“London!”
repeated I. “London! that populous
city, which was late the residence
of so many hundred thousand people; is it X4r 311
it possible, that it can so suddenly have
been rendered desolate?”
“Lard bless
me,”
returned the Lady, “every body
knows that there is not at this time a
single creature in London: and so I told
the Captain before we went, but he
would go, and staid whole ten days; you
never knew any thing so horrid! Not
one creature was to be seen.”

“Horrid, indeed,” repeated I. “Alas!
poor Doctor Severan, what, in the general
calamity, is become of him?”
A smile
which sat upon the faces of the company,
and a look of compassion with which the
benevolent Mr. Denbeigh at that moment
seemed to regard my informer, made
me suspect her of insanity, and she, indeed,
said enough afterwards fully to
confirm my suspicion.

Poor thing! she was so incapable of
concealing her misfortune–––that she X4 seemed X4v 312
seemed to pique herself on having fainted
at the sight of a red gown in the
month of July, a convincing proof that
she was not then in the possession of her
understanding.—The derangement of her
faculties, may, perhaps, be accounted
for from the many frights and shocks
she has met with in a country town, where
her husband is unfortunately quartered.

“The frights,” she said, “came to
visit her, and some of their heads were so
hideous, that she thought she would have
died at the sight.”
No wonder that such
a circumstance should have produced
fatal effects upon a feeble mind. Like
most people who labour under this sort
of delirium, she was altogether unconscious
of her unhappy situation, and
really seemed to enjoy a fancied preeminence
over the daughters of Mr.
Denbeigh
, and many other females of
sound mind, who were assembled upon 2 this X5r 313
this occasion. “Alas! poor lady,” said I
to myself, “how pitiable is thy situation!
How much more would it have been to
thy advantage, to have possessed one grain
of the good sense of these amiable females,
whom thy folly holds in such derision,
than to have been cousin to all
the Lords of Christendom! Had not
thy malady brought blindness to thine
eyes, thou mightest, doubtless, have beheld
in the streets of London, thousands,
and ten thousands of thy superiors in
the scale of human excellence!”
—But
thus it is, that the dust of folly which is
shaken into into the eyes by the hand of
affectation, produces the false perception
of objects.

May we have our eyes enlightened by
the Collyrium Collyrium. Crude Antimony, and sometimes
Lead ore, ground to an impalpable powder
, which the
the people of India put into their eyes, by means
of a polished wire. They fancy it clears the sight,
and encreases the lustre of the eye.
of judgment–––so shall we X5v 314
we be able to observe ourselves in the
Mirror of Truth!

I have had the unexpected satisfaction
of beholding the sister of my first
English friend. Yes, Maandaara, Charlotte
PiercyPercy
is now the guest of Mr.
Denbeigh
, and you may judge how much
such a circumstance has augmented the
pleasure of Zaarmilla.

I did not till lately discover, that Morley-farm
was in the neighbourhood of
Violet-dale, and not many hours elapsed
after the discovery, till, in company with
Denbeigh and his sister Emma, I went to X6r 315
to visit the late residence of the benevolent
old man, whose character is still
spoken of in this neighbourhood in terms
of respect, gratitude, and affection.
The weather was serene and temperate,
such as, at Almora, we frequently enjoy
in the depth of winter; it was what is
here called a fine autumnal morning.
The trees, which were so lately clothed
in the livery of the Mussulman Prophet,
have now assumed a greater variety of
colouring—while some have had their
green coats changed into the sober tint
of the cinnamon: and others have taken
the tawny hue of the orange. The leaves
of many, which like ungracious children,
had forsaken their parent stem, rustled
in our path. Of all the vocal inhabitants
of the woods, one little bird alone, like
the faithful friend, who reserves his services
for the hour of adversity, sitting
on the half-stripped boughs, raised the soft 4 X6v 316
soft note of consolation to the deserted
grove.

Emma, who was our conductress, said
she would take us by the private road,
which had been a few years ago made
by Mr. Morley and her father, to facilitate
the intercourse of their families.
We soon arrived where the wooden
bridge had stood; but, alas! it was now
no longer passable. A few of its planks
half floated on the stream—the rest had
been carried away by the farmer, to
make up a breach in the fence. “Ah!”
said Emma, “could poor Mr. Morley
now see that bridge!—but do not mention
it to my father. I know how it
would vex him to hear of it.”
We proceeded
on another road, and at the distance
of a few paces from the house, we
met with a second disappointment. Attempting
to open a small gate that led to
the front door of the house, a little boy came X7r 317
came out to tell us that it had been nailed
up, and that we must go through the
yard where the cattle were feeding.

Emma begged we might proceed no
farther, and we were about to comply
with her request, when the wife of the
person who now rents the farm came to
us. “Ah! how glad Miss Percy will be
to see you Miss!”
cried she. “I did
not think that my son could have been
back from the Dale so soon.”

“Miss Percy!” said Emma. “What
of Miss Percy? When did you hear of
her?”

“Did you not know that she came
here yesterday?”
returned the woman.
“She sent a letter to let you know that
she intended going over to the Dale tonight.”

“Sent X7v 318

“Sent a letter!” returned Emma.
“Charlotte used not to be so ceremonious.”

“Indeed she is not what she used to
be,”
returned the farmer’s wife. “She is
so melancholy, that I never saw the like.
Soon after she came yesterday evening,
she went out to the garden, and, would
you believe it? the sight of the potatoes
my husband planted in the place my old
master used to call his Velvet Walk, and
which he used to have mown every week
(though the grass was good for nothing,
to be sure, but to be swept away as if it
had been rubbish) and where he used to
sit of an evening in the queer-looking
chair, that now, when it is turned upside
down, does so well for a hay-rack for the
young calves; would you believe it? her
eyes filled with tears at the very sight of
it. Now what could make any one cry
at the sight of a good crop of potatoes, is more X8r 319
more than I can imagine. But, says my
husband, don’t you see that it is being so
very lonely that makes Miss so melancholy?
So I went to her, and though she
said she liked to be lonely, I would not
leave her to herself the whole evening.”

“Your company would be a great relief
to her spirits, to be sure,”
said Denbeigh.

“Yes, for certain,” returned the good
woman; “though she took on a little
still. And when she went into the paddock,
where the little poney that Mr.
Morley
used to ride about the farm now
runs, ‘La! see Miss,’ says I, ‘if there is
not your uncle’s poney, I dare to say
it knows you.’
She held out her hand,
and called it by its name, and, would you
believe it? it no sooner heard her voice,
than it came scampering up.—‘Poor Mopsy,’
said she, as she stroaked its ears, and again X8v 320
again the tears came into her eyes. She
turned away, but the beast still followed
her, neighing, till we came to the gate.
She then so begged me to leave her for a
few minutes, that I went on the other
side of the hedge, and saw her go back
to poor Mopsy, and laying her hand upon
its head, as it held it out for her to
stroak—she burst into tears. ‘Dear heart,’
says I, ‘Miss, don’t take on so; my husband
will buy you a surer-footed beast
than Mopsy, at any market in the country,
for five pounds.’”

“Poor Charlotte!” said Emma: “but
why did she expose herself to this
torture?”
The good woman stared at
Emma, who declined listening to any
more of her conversation; but demanding
which way her cousin had walked,
she hastily requested us to follow.

“How Y1r 321

“How nicely this gravel walk used to
be kept!”
said Emma (as we walked
along) “and see how it is now destroyed.
These shrubs too, so broken down by
the cattle, how the good old Mr. Morley
used to delight himself in taking care
of them! He is gone! and, alas! how
quickly are the favourite objects of his attention
likely to perish!—But the remembrance
of his virtues shall not thus
fall into oblivion.—No!”
continued the
lovely Moralist: “the trees he has
planted may be cut down by sordid avarice;
and the hand of brutish stupidity
may root out the flowers of his garden;
but his deeds of benevolence and charity
shall be held in everlasting remembrance!”

We were now arrived at the gate of a
meadow, which was almost encircled by
the stream. A narrow path winded
through the plantation of young trees Vol. II. Y that Y1v 322
that ornamented its banks.—At the root
of one of these trees, I perceived a small
bright object glittering in the rays of the
sun. I approached it, and found some
leaves of ivory, fastened by a silver clasp,
which on touching it, flew open, and discovered
the hand writing of Miss Percy.
“It is Charlotte’s tablets,” cried Emma.
“It was in these she used to sketch the
effusions of her fancy, on any subject that
occurred.—It is still so,”
continued she,
turning over the leaves. “Here is some
poetry—she cannot think it any breach
of faith to read it.”
“Read it then,”
said her brother.

She complied, and read as follows— “Why, shades of Morley! will you not impart Some consolation to my grief-worn mind? ’Mid your delightful scenes, my sinking heart Had hoped the sweets of wonted peace to find. Dear Y2r 323 Dear scenes of sweet content, and careless ease, Where in unchanging bliss the seasons roll’d, Where Winter’s storm, or Summer’s genial breeze, Could some peculiar beauty still unfold. The charmer Hope then perch’d on every bough, And sung of Friendship true, and Love sincere; While Fancy twin’d her wreath round youth’s fair
brow,
And Mem’ry’s annals mark’d no transient tear.
But now—the charmer Hope is heard no more! Gone are my youth’s lov’d friends;—for ever
gone!
The dear delusive dreams of bliss are o’er, And all fair Fancy’s airy train is flown!
Sad Mem’ry now must these lov’d haunts invade With the dark forms of many a heart-felt grief, With bosom’d sorrows, silent as this shade, Sorrows from lenient Time that scorn relief. As to each well known object Mem’ry clings, She bids the tear of deep regret to slow; To every former scene of bliss she brings The throb of Anguish, and the sigh of Woe. Y2 As Y2v 324 As she retraces every blissful hour, Here spent with cheerful Hope, and youthful Joy, Hope lost! Joy gone for ever;― * * * * * * * * * * * *”

The tears which had fallen on the remaining
lines had rendered them totally
illegible. Those which suffused the blue
eyes of the gentle Emma, stopt her utterance,
she hastily put the tablets in her
pocket—and we proceeded in silence.

In a spot that was peculiarly sheltered
by a row of beeches, whose leaves have
now assumed the colour of the dried cinnamon,
stood the remains of an arbour,
which had once been covered with the
most beautiful creepers this ungenial climate
can produce, but which unsupported
now fell upon the ground: no bad
emblem of the mind of their former mistress,
who sat at the entrance of the arbour,
on the trunk of a fallen tree. Her
countenance wore the traces of melancholy,choly, Y3r 325
but the manner in which she received
the salutations of my friends, shewed
that her heart was still capable of the
most animated affection. Me too she
received with kindness; though the ideas
associated with my appearance gave a
perceptible emotion to her already agitated
spirits. She made an effort to
banish the melancholy ideas which had of
late been so familiar to her mind; and
having satisfied Emma as to the reasons
that induced her to stop at Morley-farm,
she cheerfully acquiesced in her proposal
of returning with us to Violet-dale,
where she was received with the cordial
welcome of sincere affection; and where,
in the happiness of her friends, her own
sorrows appear to be forgotten.

Y3 In Y3v 326

In this Temple of domestic bliss, the
flight of time has been so imperceptible,
that a whole week, which has elapsed
since I laid down my pen, appears but
as a day.

We know that one of the fourteen
precious things which were produced in
the churning of the ocean, was a learned
physician: but which of the sages of the
tribe of Vaidya ever contrived a remedy
of such approved efficacy, as the
conversation of a faithful and judicious
friend?

Such a one has Miss Percy experienced
in the father of Denbeigh. He has already
convinced her that the indulgence
of melancholy, instead of being an amiable
weakness, rather deserving of admiration
than censure, is, in reality, equally
selfish and sinful.—It is, he says, the
height of ingratitude to the Giver of all good, Y4r 327
good, peevishly to refuse the enjoyment
of the many blessings that are left us,
because we are deprived of a few, which
were in their very natures perishable.—
“But, alas!” replied Miss Percy, “what
is left to those whose earliest and dearest
friends have been snatched from them by
the hand of death?”

“Much is left to all,” replied Mr.
Denbeigh
. “No one, who enjoys the
blessings of health, and a peaceful conscience,
can, without ingratitude, repine.
The proper discharge of the duties
of life is a source of happiness to every
well regulated mind.”

“But how circumscribed are the limits
of those duties to a female, who has
no longer any parent to attend on: no
family to manage: no fortune to bestow
in deeds of charity: and who has it little Y4 in Y4v 328
in her power to be useful, even to a
friend?”

“And is the gift of reason then nothing?”
retorted Mr. Denbeigh. “And
are the powers of the mind to lie dormant,
because, forsooth, you have not now
the management of a family: or the exercise
of the benevolent affections to be
given up, because you have not a fortune
to build alms-houses? These are the
meer subterfuges of indolence. Believe
me, my dear Charlotte, that whoever
seriously resolves not to suffer any opportunity
of benefiting a fellow-creature to
pass unemployed, will find, that the
power of doing good is not circumscribed
within very narrow limits.

Why, (let me ask you father)
should your mind, cultivated as it has
been by education, and improved by listening
to the conversation of the enlightenedtened Y5r 329
and judicious; why should it not
exert its powers, not only for your own
entertainment, but for the instruction,
or innocent amusement of others?”

“Ah! Sir,” returned Charlotte, “you
know how female writers are looked
down upon. The women fear, and hate;
the men ridicule, and dislike them.”

“This may be the case with the mere
mob, who receive every prejudice upon
trust,”
rejoined Mr. Denbeigh; “but if
the simplicity of your character remains
unchanged—if the virtues of your heart
receive no alloy from the vanity of authorship;
trust me, my dear Charlotte,
you will not be the less dear to any friend
that is deserving of your love, for having
employed your leisure hours in a way
that is both innocent and rational.”

Thus Y5v 330

Thus did this venerable old man persuade
Miss Percy to reconcile her mind
to the evils of her destiny, and, by the
exertion of activity, to seek the road to
contentment. Nor has his attention been
confined to her. Me also, he has honoured
with much of his instructive conversation.
He has been particularly solicitous
to know my opinions concerning
all that I have seen in England; and expecting
to reap advantage from his observations,
I have put into his hands a
copy of all my letters to you. These it
was easy for me to give in English; it
having been my custom to write down
such conversations as I intended to recite
to you, in that language, and after having
given it to some English friend to translate,
have from the corrected copy made
the translations intended for your use.

Mr. Denbeigh was much entertained
with my account of the philosophers,phers, Y6r 331
but said, “if it was known in
England, people would think that I intended
to turn philosophy itself into ridicule.”
Thus it is that the designs of authors
are mistaken! Perhaps this is not
the only passage in my letters that might,
to an English reader, appear to be absurd.
—Happily they will never be exposed
to any eye, save that of my friend.—
It is therefore sufficient, if to him they
convey a picture of the truth, such as it
appears to the mind of Zaarmilla.

I have already hinted my astonishment
at the number of new books that are every
year produced in England; but now that
I know what these books have to encounter,
before they fight their way into the
world, my astonishment is increased tenfold!
Many and various are the evils
which these poor adventurers have to encounter.
Besides the smarting, though
superficial wounds, which they may expect to Y6v 332
to receive from the small-shot of the ladies
and gentlemen “genteely educated”, who call
every thing stupid” that is beyond the limits
of their slender comprehensions,
they have to sustain the heavy blows of
those who cut down every thing as “nonsense,”
that swerves from the beaten track
over which they have been accustomed
to trot. Should they be endowed with
sufficient strength to survive the attack
of both these adversaries, they have still
to pass before the formidable phalanx
of Reviewers, each of whom, like the
mighty Carticeya, The Hindoo God of War. He is represented
with six faces, and a number of hands, in each of
which he brandishes a weapon. He rides upon a
peacock, and is usually found in company with his
Mother Parvati, or the Mountain Goddess, one of
the characters of the consort of Seeva. See Asiatic
Researches
, vol. ii
.
brandishes in his
hundred arms a hundred instruments of
destruction. These terrible Genii are 4 said Y7r 333
said to judge of books by the smell, and
when that has happened to be offensive
to their nostrils, have been known, by
one well-aimed dart, to transfix an unfortunate
book to the shelves of the
booksellers shops for ever. But with the
powerful is found mercy. Instead of the
dread weapons of war, these imitators
of the sons of the Mountain-born Goddess,
sometimes condescend gently to
tickle the trembling adventurer with a
feather plucked from the plumage of the
Peacock.

Ah! if ever friend of Zaarmilla’s venture
to send forth a book into the world,
may it find these terrible Reviewers in
this favourable mood! May its perfume
be pleasing to their nostrils, and its form
find favour in their sight!!

I have Y7v 334

I have just received a letter from my
friend Severan, it contains the desirable
information, that a ship will in a few
weeks sail for India—the commander of
which, is his particular friend. In it I
shall take my passage—and if the powerful
Varuna is favourable to my prayers,
shall, in the progress of a few returning
moons, again behold the blessed shores
of Hindoostan. O thought replete with
extacy! How does the bosom of Zaarmilla
pant, for the period of thy realization!
—Yet shall I not purchase that
felicity, without having paid the debt of
anguish, in many a tear; before my
eyes can be solaced by beholding the
companions of my youth, they must have
been moistened with the sorrow of an
eternal separation from every English
friend.

From Y8r 335

From this amiable family, from the
worthy Denbeigh, and the excellent Severan,
I shall have been parted for
ever.—But the remembrance of their
virtues shall be the companions of my
life; and the idea of their happiness shall
solace every hour of my existence.

Nothing can equal the delight of my
friend Severan, at the success of his experiment;
which has opened a new field
for discovery, of which he will not be
slow to take possession. It is a peculiar
advantage attendant upon science, that
the gratification it affords is not more
delightful to the individual, than beneficial
to society; and it is this consideration
that enhances every enjoyment of
the scientific philosopher.

I cannot help thinking, that this sort
of philosophy is more favourable to the 3 happiness Y8v 336
happiness of its votaries, than that sort
professed at Ardent-Hall; but this may
be owing to the advantages enjoyed by
the former, of a happier method of conducting
their experiments. It certainly
does not arise in the latter from any
want to zeal, or from a backwardness to
repeat experiments, that have already
been found unsuccessful. As a proof of
this, my friend Severan informs me, that
Mr. Axiom, has persuaded Miss Ardent
to accompany him to the Continent, on
an experiment of abstract principle, which,
he says—should put a learned female
above the censure of the world.”
My
friend seems to doubt whether the result
of this experiment, will bring peace
to the poor Lady’s bosom; and adds,
“that it would be no less surprising, to
see the flame of the taper brighten, on
being plunged into mephitic air, than
that a female, who bids defiance to modestydesty Z1r 337
and decorum, should preserve her
honour, and her peace.”

Miss Ardent has resigned her charge
of the younger daughter of Sir Caprice,
to Lady Grey. The eldest daughter of
the Baronet, the Novel-reading Julia,
has, it seems, suffered much from the
unexpected metamorphosis of a charming
swain; who, soon after he had introduced
himself to her acquaintance, as a hero of
exalted sentiment and tender sensibility,
was unfortunately recognized by certain
sagacious men, from a place called Bowstreet,
to be one of the tribe of Swindlers
—the discovery gave such a shock
to the nerves of the young Lady, that
she has been ordered to a place called
Bath, for the recovery of her health.
Thither her father and mother have accompanied
her; and there the former,
at the instigation of a teacher of a sect Vol. II. Z called Z1v 338
called Methodists, has renounced the poojah
of System; and, instead of building a
house for sparrows to make honey, he
now intends to erect a church, for the
edification of the saints. Thus doth one
folly succeed to another, in the breast of
him who is void of all permanent principle!
–––May the mind of Maandaara
be furnished by Ganesa with the protecting
shield of judgment, and preserved
from the evils of instability!

As this letter will be sent by a small
vessel called a Packet, which carries dispatches
from this government to the
council of Calcutta, it will probably reach
the happy region of Almora some weeks
before thy friend.

4 I anticipate Z2r 339

I anticipate the comments which thou
wilt make upon its contents. Thou
wilt observe, that to extend our knowledge
of the world, is but to become
acquainted with new modes of pride,
vanity, and folly. Thou wilt perceive
that in Europe, as in Asia, an affected
singularity often passes for superior wisdom;
bold assertion for truth; and
sickly fastidiousness for true delicacy of
sentiment. Thou wilt see that the passions
of men are every where the same;
and that the variety made by the Idol of
Doctor Sceptic (existing circumstances)
is not in the passions themselves, but in the
complexion of the objects which excite
them. Thou wilt remark, that though
vice and folly have the appearance of
being every where prodominant, that it
is only the superficial observer, who will
from thence infer the non-existence of
Wisdom and Virtue. These have been Z2 traced Z2v 340
traced by Maandaara to the bosom of
retirement, where he will have observed
them employed in scattering the
sweet blossoms of domestic peace: and
though the torch of vanity glares not on
their dwelling, and the trump of fame
sounds not at their approach, he will
nevertheless have remarked with pleasure
the extent of their silent reign, and,
with Zaarmilla, will pity the man who
can form a doubt of their existence.

Of the various religions of the English,
I have given you a full and distinct
account. You will perceive by it, that
notwithstanding the progress of philosophy,
and the report of Sheermaal, that
that of Christianity is not yet entirely extinct;
but that, like Virtue and Wisdom,
it has still some adherents, in the retired
scenes of life.—You will, perhaps, not
have been able to discover how the practices Z3r 341
practices enjoined by its precepts can be
injurious to society; and inclined to think,
that the love of a Being of infinite wisdom
and goodness, and such a government
of the passions, as enables a man
to love his neighbour as himself, can do
no great harm to the world.—Obnoxious
as the precepts which command purity of
heart, unfeigned humility, sanctity of
morals, and simplicity of manners, may
be to the philosopher; you will conclude,
that they have, in reality, been found as
little detrimental to the repose of the individual,
as the expectation of everlasting
felicity has been to his happiness.
I am sorry, that the want of success attending
the experiments of the worshippers
of System, presents me with nothing
to oppose to your conclusions better than
assertion: but if you have half the complaisance
of the people of England, you
will think that ought to be sufficient to overturn Z3v 342
overturn the dictates of common sense,
though confirmed by the experience of
ages!—Such faith do these good people
put in the assertions of philosophers!

I am called from my pen to witness a
ceremony called Signing the Settlements,
which is preliminary to the marriage of
Mr. Darnley and the blooming Emma.
The day after to-morrow is fixed for their
nuptials, and on the day following, the
amiable bride departs with her husband,
loaded with paternal blessings. Though
every thing is to be conducted in common
form, and exactly in conformity to
Christian prejudices, I do not know but
this gentle and unassuming girl may have
as great a chance for happiness, as if she
had gone off with her lover on an experiment
of abstract principle.

“May the conduct of those who act
well, afford pleasure to the mind!—May “you, Z4r 343
you, ye good, find friends in this world!
May virtue be for ever to be found!”

In reading the letters of a friend, may
the goodness of his intention be put in
the ballance with his errors; and where
the former is found predominant, may
the latter be consigned to oblivion! What
can I say more?

Finis.

Z4v

Errata.

Page 11, Line 12, for “Marmoret” read Marmozet
46, 3, for “a cass” read one coss
49, 11, for “Inhors” read Mhors
50, 20, for “from the mid-daynoon-day read the mid-day
54, 3, for “depricate” read depreciate
60, 14, for “appearance” read assurance
61, 12, for “Andectya-war” read Audĕĕtyĕ-wār
63, 18, for “concealed” read conceal
73, 11, for “beneficient” read beneficent
98, 4, for “defeats” read defeat
118, between the 18th and 19th line, read your
127, 19, for “Zamonca” read Zamouca
139, 17, for “Mimora” read Mimosa
167161, 3, for “immersed” read immured
168, 1, for “friend” read fiend
224, 6, for “hands” read pen
239, 17, for “presents” read present
245, 1, for “gives” read give
246, 11, for “Sannaszee” read Sannassee
297, 15, for “Douglas” read Denbeigh
[Gap in transcription—library stampomitted]