to tender impressions, I could not help inditing the effusions of a heart warmly interested in your welfare and happiness. I well knew how you would feel our separation. Those who remain on the spot alway suffer more than those who take their departure; whose attention is more or less engaged with a variety of new objects, as was our case in the journey to Surat. I therefore feel much for you, placed among such detestable characters, and compelled to witness distresses you cannot relieve; but the downy wings, and (allow me to say) the balmy comforts of religion, united to the active duties of a commercial career, to commence with the opening of the fair season, will I trust alleviate the miseries which now surround you. You must, my friend, look at the magnifying end of the telescope, the brilliant medium of the glass called Claud Lorraine behold the pleasing scenes that await you a few years hence in England. Call in the pleasures of imagination; remove the veil which obscures the bright prospect and enviable pleasures we have so lately talked of enjoying together in our native isle ; which ere long will I hope be realized. The lovely rose is often encompassed by thorns; and seldom does the cup of humanity. contain an unmingled potion. You must therefore consider your situation for two or three years to come, as a road, which, although a little rough and dreary, will ultimately lead you to all that is most desirable in this sublunary vale. "An elegant sufficiency, content, Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, Ease and alternate labour, useful life, Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven.” Now, my friend, let me not preach in vain; knowing you sometimes dwell too long on the sombre scene, and indulge a little too much of what is emphatically styled the English malady (happily not very common in this country), it is the duty of friendship to brighten the prospect; and I have no doubt when things are properly represented to Mhadajee Sindia, you will find your situation. more pleasant and advantageous. "I not only feel for you, but most sincerely do I pity the worthy Afsaram, Dowlat Roy Dessoy, and our former native friends; indeed the whole city and purgunna of Baroche claim our compassion; because when malice and rapacity, uncontrolled, unite hand in hand, as they do with your two great men, dreadful must be the consequences. At the same time that I iament the fall of Baroche, I cannot but exquisitely feel for my friends at Dhuboy now suffering under similar calamity. Should Assaram or the Dessoy be allowed to visit you, remember us to them in the kindest manner; not so to their oppressor, who I have no doubt will soon fall, and that too from a lofty pinnacle, to make his overthrow the more conspicuous. Such a fate to Lullabhy would not only correspond with the general system of Asiatic policy, but is frequently permitted by Providence for the punishment of the culprit, and an example to others. His cruelty to the unfortunate Rhaman indelibly marks his character. Nor can all his ostentatious charities, glittering pagodas, and magnificent wells, wipe off the stain of murder, cruelty, and oppression. The tears of the widows and orphans whom he has reduced to that calamity, mingling with the blood of Rhaman, form a different stream, and exhibit a sad con trast to the Persian inscription over his beautiful well, without the Jerasseer gate of Baroche, the very spot selected for poor Rhaman's catastrophe!" Bengal Cantonments, near Surat, 21st August, 1783. "MANY thanks, my dear Sir, for your favour of the 10th, and kind congratulations on my convalescence. Thank God, I am now nearly recovered from the severest fever I ever had in my life, in which I was for many days in great danger; and my trembling hand will still convince you of my weak state. I came about a week ago, by the physician's advice, for change of air to the Bengal camp, and have since been gradually gaining appetite and strength. Our four Baroche ladies, with their husbands, are also staying with their friends in camp; those from Surat are frequent visitors; and the only two Bengal ladies belonging to that establishment do every thing in their power to render it agreeable. "I know not the full meaning of the word cantonment, and a camp this singular place cannot well be termed; it more resembles a large town, being many miles in circumference. The officers' bungalos on the banks of the Tappee are large and convenient, generally consisting of three rooms and verandas; some of more : all built in wooden frames, filled up with bamboos or neat straw work, lined with coloured chintz or white calico, and the floors covered with cotton carpets. Each bungalo has its own garden, poultry-yard, stables, and out-houses. The soldiers' quarters and every part of the cantonment are equally neat and regular; without seeing it I should have formed a very imperfect idea of the com course. fort and luxury of a Bengal encampment. For, although I cannot much enter into it, I assure you here is a constant succession of amusements for morning, noon, and all night long. The former is occupied in hunting, shooting, cock-fighting, and dog-tighting. Feasting at dinner from one till three o'clock, when horseraces commence, quite in the English style, on a very good Between the heats, fighting-rams, dancing-bears, ladies running races on elephants, and more varieties than I can tell you of, fill up the intervals. When the horse-race finishes, the company leave the stage, to drink tea in an adjoining tent, from whence they retire to their respective bungalos, to dress for the ball; which is given every evening by subscription from the principal officers in the commandant's bungalo; a large mansion, excellently suited to the purpose. A concert sometimes precedes the dance before supper, an entertainment equally elegant and abundant. After which dancing, singing, music, and masques continue until four in the morning. These festivals have already lasted four days, they are to terminate to-morrow; a fortunate circumstance for the principal actors, who I should imagine would not hold out much longer. We purpose returning to Surat in a few days, and sailing from thence for Bombay about the beginning of September." Extracts on leaving Bombay. "THE enclosed, my dear Forbes, is the promised letter to my best friend, to whom you want no introduction. Take yours in your hand, and tell mine he is as worthy a man as ever left India; a character congenial to his own: that I sincerely wish Dalton and your sister all health and happiness, is most true; no wish rises nearer my heart than that for the welfare of you all. Keep me in remembrance as one who has a just sense of your worth and virtues, and who will esteem it as one of the first pleasures England can hereafter afford-the renewal of our intimacy in that happy isle, without the idea of another separation. "But when my destiny will lead me thither I dare not venture to pronounce; I hope however within four or five years. This side of India has now very few profitable situations in the company's service; and by the loss of Baroche, and all our valuable possessions, the prospect is altogether gloomy. We are weighed down by an enormous debt, unnecessary expenses, and a great scarcity of cash. No payments to any civil department of the service; the military swallow up our whole resources. Transfer is now at thirty-three per centum, with a prospect of being worse as soon as the army accounts are liquidated." 66 ACCEPT my sincere thanks for your beautiful painting of flowers, which I shall preserve until we have again the pleasure of meeting in England-yet I am almost sorry you are going to that happy country where we all so much wish to be; but that proceeds from too selfish a principle to be cherished: for believe me, my dear friend, there are not two persons in the world in whose success I more rejoice than yours and Dalton's. I am well assured neither of you will forget me, but on the contrary I shall frequently receive letters from you both. I have hinted to my sister that you have many volumes of drawings and descriptions of every part of India in which you have been, which would be very |