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exquisite nicety of female discernment, on which every shade, and tint, and colour of character, primitive or mixed, never fails to be reflected. But more of her hereafter. With this exception, however, I have searched in vain the publications of residents and travellers in India, without stumbling upon one correct portrait of Anglo-Indian society; any thing that may be instructive as a lesson to young men, or may hold up to our young countrywomen, who are about to quit the shores of our “ fair, domestic stream,” for those which the Ganges washes with his mighty waters, a mirror of what they are hereafter to become, through the influence of climate, marriage, musquitoes, and the varied assemblage of causes likely to operate upon them, when they arrive in a country which is considered, I fear but too justly, as the grave of European beauty.

What a useful supplementary chapter to Dr. Fordyce, or Mrs. Chapone, would this furnish! Something of this kind is surely necessary, if on no other ground, on that of good taste, to give a little pleasing variety to the writings upon India, which the press is every day bringing into the world, and which weigh as heavily upon the forbearance of the general reader as upon the counters of the booksellers. For without something of the kind, “Ten Years' Residence in India," and “ Reminiscences" of I know not how many years of service, begin to be rather sickening; and no wonder, as they are for the most part refaccimentos of by-gone campaigns; the dregs and rinsings of old officers' memories; the scrapings of barrack-room conversations, where, over a cheerless bottle or two (the slowness of whose revolutions speaks whole volumes against the diminution of batta), some poor complaisant Sub is obliged with polite quiescence to listen to the endless narrative which "fights the battle o'er again"—the same prosy detail which is so soon to arrive in the propitious region of New Burlington Street, and after it has received its due share of pruning and polish at the maturing hands of Mr. Shuckburgh, to take its place in what is called by courtesy “the literature of the day.”

But the taste for this is going by. Who is there that can be interested at this time of day with an Indian battle fought twenty years ago? What reader is endued with such an overflowing sensibility as to spare one drop of it for the fate of a thousand polygars (if they had been so many Polly Carrs, the narrative might have some interest), whose only virtue seems to have been their hereditary hate to the Panjalum-choorchy race; or to weep the premature loss of Captain Trotter of the cavalry, who, by too quick a trot was carried into the hottest fire of the enemy; or the wound of Captain Hazard, who felt so cruelly the chances of war in his right arm; or the hair-breadth escape of Lieutenant Beard, whose chin was grazed by a ball, and who came off providentially, with the loss only of a third of his whisker (these are not puns, dear reader, but veracious facts *); or feast with delight upon pages filled with lists of the killed and wounded ? For heaven's sake, let us have something more than this. “Call a new cause!" Lord Mansfield used to say, with infinite complacency, when he was worn out with the one he had been trying. What we want is man, male or female, imported from England into India, with his English notions, English tastes, English antipathies, acted upon by the thousand influences that gradually modify him into a different animal, till, without knowing it,-for, whilst he is there, goitrelike, a host of similar examples prevent him from suspecting his own transformation,- he comes back again to his native land the finished “old Indian,” the consummate but interesting nondescript, which in common parlance has acquired that appellative.

See " Military Reminiscences of Forty Years' Service in India,” by Lieut.-Col. Welsh ; 1830.

But first, of woman. I hold most religiously, that the study of woman any where, but particularly in India, is the study of philosophy; nor would it be an exaggeration to say, that transcendental beauty furnishes more instruction than transcendental philosophy; for beauty is philosophy without the mysticism of Kant or Richter; philosophy written in plain and living characters, burnished by the hand of nature herself on bright complexions, inscribed in brilliant faces, and taught by eloquent eyes. In Anglo-Indian society, as in every other, woman is the most important and powerful of the social elements. Married women give the tone not to manners only, but to modes of thinking, in the English circles of India. Single ones have no perceptible influence, for they soon get married, and melt into the character of wives and mothers. No such thing as a regular set of unmarried women exists there; as for a knot of old maids, the forlorn bench of our coteries and ball-rooms, it was never so much as heard of. Judge then of the influence of this very circumstance upon those who move in those circles, and in particular on the female portion of them. A batch of new arrivals are like the hams and cheeses imported by the same vessels; they will not keep till another

If they do not meet with a suitable match

season.

12

SOCIETY AND MANNERS.

ENGLISH SOCIETY IN INDIA.

13

But first, of woman. I hold most religiously

, that the study of woman any where, but particularly in India, is the study of philosophy; nor would it be an exaggeration to say, that transcendental beauty furnishes more instruction than transcendental philosophy; for beauty is philosophy without the mysticism of Kant or Richter; philoso phy written in plain and living characters, burnished by the hand of nature herself on bright complexions, inscribed in brilliant faces, and taught by eloquent eyes. In Anglo-Indian society, as in every other, woman is the most important and powerful of the social elements. Married women give the tone not to manners only, but to modes of thinking, in the English circles of India. Single ones have no perceptible influence, for they soon get married, and melt into the character of wives and mothers. No such thing as a regular set of unmarried women exists there: as for a knot of old maids, the forlorn bench of our coteries and ball-rooms, it was never so much as heard of. Judge then of the influence of this very circumstance upon those who move in those circles, and in particular on the female portion of them. A batch of new arrivals are like the hams and cheeses imported by the same vessels; they will not keep till another

soon after they have lighted on the Indian soil, they must lower their hopes from the delightful dreams of a rapid fortune, shining liveries in Portland Place, and a mansion and park in Hampshire -hopes which a union with a civilian of rank can only realize, -to some lieutenant-colonel with a liver perforated like a sieve, or a colon almost brought to a full stop, and a pocket not much replenished by a twenty-five years' service. “If 'twere done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well it were done quickly," says Macbeth.

But, gracious heaven! what mistakes people run into, when they talk opprobriously of women going out to the Indian market to be married, and what absurd theories do they construct upon that foolish assumption and ridiculous prejudice! I maintain that, for conjugal love, conjugal happiness

, lasting, unbroken, undecaying attachments for that perfect identity of wishes, of fears, of griefs, of gladnesses,—that mutual amalgamation of tastes and sensibilities, which constitutes the highest bliss than can reign in that paradise of the affections -that which Horace in two words describes so beautifully to be the beatitude of the sexual union, the irrupta copula, the chain, at once bright as gold and strong as adamant, which clasps two hearts and souls together-there is nothing that

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season. If they do not meet with a suitable match

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