Whilst I was at Agra, a distinguished military officer of high rank, who had just been appointed as a member of the Council, passed through the station on his way to the seat of government, Calcutta. It was supposed that this general officer would, on the first vacancy, become Deputy-Governor of Bengal; and of course the society of Agra was resolved to do him honour. It would not do for anybody to hang back on an occasion like this; and, for the nonce, both the civilians and the military were of one mind, and actually met on an amicable and pleasant footing, to talk the matter over, and to decide upon what was to be done. After a friendly debate, which lasted for four hours, it was resolved that Sir Gunter and Lady Gallopaway should be invited to a ball and supper, and not to a dinner. It was further determined that the entertainment should take place, not at Government-house (that would be too Civil)—not at any mess-room (that would be too Military)—but at a good-sized hall called the Metcalfe Institution, this being perfectly neutral ground. My friend, the civilian with whom I had been staying, had a perfect contempt for these local squabbles—although he was really compelled to take a part therein; and, after the meeting was over, he sat down and wrote a metrical squib, ridiculing the whole affair, and sent it for publication to one of the newspapers, the Delhi Gazette. For this squib—seeing that it sneered at both the civilians and the military—I unfortunately got the credit, and the consequence was, that, when I made my appearance at the ball, several of the heads of the society who had formerly received me with extreme cordiality, answered me only in monosyllables when I addressed them. Indeed, I learnt afterwards, from my friend's wife, that a meeting had actually been called to consider the propriety of not inviting me, and that I had very narrowly escaped that punishment; for had it not been for the vote of her husband my name would have been omitted, as there were ten for and ten against me, when he held up his hand in my favour.

But to the ball. There were present some twenty civilians, all dressed in black with white cravats; and each had brought with him his wife, or a sister, or daughter. Of military men (all in full dress uniform) there were about forty-five or fifty; and the ladies who came with them may have numbered thirty. In all, say that there were present—including visitors and stragglers like myself—one hundred and forty. I was rather late, and, on entering the room, beheld one of the oddest sights that I ever witnessed: all the black coats were huddled together, and so were all the reds. They had been unanimous only so far as giving the entertainment was concerned; and it seemed to be distinctly understood by each party that there was to be no mixing; and so the civilians formed quadrilles and danced with the civil ladies, and the soldiers with the military ladies. Had there been a royal regiment in Agra, there would have been three parties, owing to the jealousy that existed formerly between the Queen's and the Company's officers. Besides myself, there were two "interlopers in the East" present at that ball. The one, a French gentleman; the other, a German Baron. They, too, were travelling about in search of the picturesque, and here they had it with a vengeance. The Frenchman could not comprehend this exclusiveness on the part of the blacks; but the German assured us that to him it was a very common sight, and to be witnessed at every ball in every garrison town in his country. "But there," said he, "the military look down on the civilians, while here, it seems to me, that the civilians look down on the military. See, see! See how disdainfully that old Mrs. Revenue Board scrutinizes the dress of Mrs. Lieutenant-Colonel DamzÈ!"

Sure enough such was the case. "But regard!" said the Frenchman; "how angry is that Mrs. Sudder Adawlut, because that little Mrs. Infantry (whose husband, I am told, is the younger son of a poor English lord) is contemplating her nez en l'air. Truly this is a magnificent spectacle! Is it always so, I wonder?"

I was enabled, from experience, to inform him, that in almost every large station—and at Agra especially—it universally occurs; but that in small stations seldom or never.

Here we were approached by Lieutenant-Colonel DamzÈ himself. After exchanging a few words with the foreign gentlemen on either side of me, he passed on, seemingly proud and happy at having had an opportunity of slighting me in public, on account of the doggerel for which I had the credit.

"Mais, monsieur," said the Frenchman to me, "who, in wonder's name, are all these DamzÈ gentlemen? There is one DamzÈ, colonel of such a regiment; another DamzÈ, major in another corps. There is a Deputy Commissary-General DamzÈ; there is a Mr. DamzÈ in the Indian navy; another DamzÈ is a military secretary; some half dozen DamzÈs are, I have perceived, on the staff of the Commander-in-Chief. Parbleu! C'est DamzÈ—toujours DamzÈ! for here, by Heaven, I meet with still another DamzÈ! Who are all these DamzÈs?"

I informed him that DamzÈ was the patronymic of a nobleman in power; and with this explanation he was thoroughly enlightened, and appeared to be perfectly satisfied.

"Let us move up towards the General," said the German Baron, who had been introduced to the old hero. "Let us go and say a few words to him."

It was not easy to do this; hemmed in as was the General by those who desired to make him remember them in the future. However, it was managed at last; and, somehow or other, we three interlopers contrived before long to monopolize his attention—we the only people in the room to whom he could not be of any service—for there was nothing that he could give, or get for us, if we had wanted his patronage. We, rather maliciously—so far as the crowd was concerned—stood about the distinguished old man and guarded him; and I have reason to know that he was grateful to us for so doing. Towards the hour of twelve, however, we had to stand back; for Mrs. Lieutenant-Colonel DamzÈ came and sat upon the sofa on the left side of the General, and talked to him in an animated but somewhat anxious manner, which became even more anxious when Mrs. Revenue Board approached, and taking a seat on the General's right (eyeing Mrs. Lieutenant-Colonel DamzÈ with a somewhat haughty expression), congratulated the General on his recent good fortune. At this advanced stage of the evening also, Lady Gallopaway was flanked right and left by old Mr. Revenue Board and Lieutenant-Colonel DamzÈ, C.B. The reader is requested to note that these two letters—C.B.—were DamzÈ's by right; or, at all events, that he had been recommended for the order, and that the recommendation had been instantly attended to; albeit DamzÈ had never been within range of an enemy's cannon in the whole course of his life. Lady Gallopaway yawned.

At length a gong sounded, and the band struck up that usual signal that supper is ready, "O, the Roast Beef of Old England, O, the Old English Roast Beef."

The anxiety of the ladies who sat on either side of the General was now at it height. They fanned themselves with fearful vigour; and we, the three interlopers, fancied that we could hear the palpitation of their hearts. Meanwhile their husbands, respectively, by their looks, evinced a corresponding anxiety. Each stood ready to offer his arm to Lady Gallopaway as soon as the General had made his election—of the lady he would lead to the supper table. Each party was equally confident but equally nervous, like the parties to a lawsuit. For weeks past this question of precedence had been debated in Agra, and very warmly debated—namely, whether Mrs. Revenue Board, of the Civil Service, or Mrs. Lieutenant-Colonel DamzÈ, C.B., was entitled to the pas. Now was the moment for a decision, or at all events an authority in support of either position or argument. The old General (upon whom both Mr. Revenue Board and Lieutenant-Colonel DamzÈ, C.B., had their anxious eyes) rose, smiled, bowed to the ladies who had flanked him, left them, and wandered about the ball-room, looking to the right and left, as if searching for some one. Presently he stopped short before little Mrs. Infantry, who was talking to a cornet of the 17th Light Cavalry. The General offered her his arm. She took it very graciously, and was led away. But before leaving the room she halted, turned round, and stared very significantly at the two elderly ladies who were still seated on the sofa, overwhelmed in surprise, horror, and indignation. Infantry, who was only a lieutenant in his regiment, observing that the General had recognised the social right of his wife, which she had derived solely from him, instantly rushed up to Lady Gallopaway, and offered her an arm (which she took), led her away in triumph, leaving his own Colonel (DamzÈ) and old Mr. Revenue Board gasping and gaping at each other in mutual disgust and consternation. Had a shell burst in the building, had the powder magazine exploded and shattered all the windows, the commotion could scarcely have been greater than it was at that moment. No one could account for this extraordinary conduct, or caprice, as it was termed, on the part of the old General. DamzÈ, who had just been flattering him concerning his wonderful achievements, now declared that "the old fool had become half-witted since eighteen hundred and forty-seven," while Revenue Board, who a quarter of an hour previously had, to the General's face, held forth on the unflinching independence which had marked his character through life, now protested—openly protested—that he had been a time-server throughout his entire career, and had some object in thus truckling before the son of an influential peer! The ladies on the sofa stared at each other; now commiseratingly and in silence for at least two minutes, then simultaneously ejaculated: "What can it mean!"

"I thought it would have been me," said Mrs. Revenue Board.

"You?" said Mrs. DamzÈ.

"Yes; why not? My husband is a civilian of twenty years' standing."

"Is not my husband a Lieutenant-Colonel and a C.B.? If he were only a Major and a C.B. he would take precedence of Mr. Revenue Board."

"You are quite mistaken."

"Indeed not. Do you suppose a C.B. goes for nothing?"

"No; but——"

Here Lieutenant-Colonel DamzÈ and Mr. Revenue Board, who had been discussing the same question, but in a calmer spirit than their wives, approached, and, making common cause against the upstart enemy (Infantry and his wife), formed a quartette and went into the supper room; where, to their intense mortification, they heard little Mrs. Infantry talking loudly, on purpose to attract the notice of all present. What was even more mortifying still, the old General was paying her marked attention.

The red party, that is to say, the military, were in very high spirits; the black, the civilians, correspondingly depressed. The quartette, consisting of DamzÈ and Revenue Board, and their wives, ate voraciously, but evidently without appetite. They sipped their wine with an absent formality, which was very entertaining to lookers-on, who were in no way interested in the momentous question which was preying on their very souls.

"It shall not end here," said DamzÈ, moodily fixing his eyes on the chandelier.

"Not, indeed!" said Mr. Revenue Board.

"I shall put my case to the Governor-General direct," said DamzÈ. "His Lordship is a near connexion of mine."

"I am perfectly aware of that," said Mr. Revenue Board; "but it is my intention to submit my case to his Lordship through Mr. Bommerson, the Lieutenant-Governor of these provinces, officially; and, if his Lordship's opinion should be adverse, I shall have my appeal to the Court of Directors, amongst whom, thank Heaven! I have several relations and warm friends."

"And you will write, I hope, my dear," said Mrs. Revenue Board, "to Sir John Bobgrouse, who is the President of the Board of Control, and whose secretary married your first cousin—recollect!"

"We can write, too," said Mrs. Lieutenant-Colonel DamzÈ.

"You may write to anybody you please," said Mrs. Revenue Board, defiantly and contemptuously; "but you will remember that the point between us is this—that even if your husband, in consequence of having got, no matter how, a C.B.ship, has the right to precede my husband, a civilian of twenty years' standing—whether you have the right to precede me? That is the question; and I hope, Revenue dear, you will not fail to raise it."

Reader, the question was submitted in all its bearings for the consideration of the Most Noble the Governor-General of India, who, declining to take upon himself so fearful a responsibility, referred the matter to the Home Government. Leadenhall-street had something to say to it, and so had the Board of Control. While the case was pending, the newspapers in every part of India literally teemed with letters on the subject, and their editors were invited to give their opinions thereon. Only one of the number was weak enough to do this, and bitterly did he repent of his rashness; for, having decided in favour of the C.B. and of Mrs. C.B., he lost (so he confessed to me) no less than six-and-twenty civilians (each of twenty years' standing) in his subscription-list. For more than eighteen months this precedence question formed a leading topic, not only in the public prints, but in private circles. It became, in short, a perfect nuisance. At length the decision of the Home Government came out to India; but, alas! they had only half done their work. They had given C.B. the precedence over the civilian of twenty years' standing, but had been silent about their wives! So, the matter was "referred back." A clerk in the Private Secretary's office told me that he was occupied for three hours in copying only the Governor-General's minute on the Court's despatch, which was a very lengthy one, and signed by the chairman for himself and the other directors, whose names were given in full. He further informed me that the whole of the documents connected with this weighty affair would, if put into type, form a volume five times as bulky as Sir William Napier's Conquest of Scinde!

How the matter was settled eventually I do not know; for, when I left India, the question had not been decided. On the great point, when it was referred for a second time to the Home Authorities, there was a difference of opinion between the Court of Directors and the Board of Control, and a long correspondence ensued on the subject, between each of these departments of the Indian Government and the Governor-General, who was required to have the case laid before the Advocates-General of the Supreme Courts at the various Presidencies. These gentlemen differed one with the other in their views of the case, each alleging that the point lay in a nutshell, and was as clear as possible. For all I know to the contrary, it may be in the nutshell at this moment. Both Lieutenant-Colonel DamzÈ and Mr. Revenue Board laid "cases" before the Calcutta barristers, who pocketed their fees, and laconically expressed their opinions respectively, that the parties who consulted them were in the right—"there could be no doubt on the point," they said. DamzÈ sent a copy of his case, and the opinion of his barrister thereon, to Revenue Board, who rather triumphantly returned the compliment. I regret to say, that this contest engendered in Agra a great deal of what is called bad blood, and induced many ladies to descend to very unseemly personalities. For instance, Mrs. DamzÈ one evening, at the band-stand, told Mrs. Revenue Board, that when she (Mrs. R. B.) returned to England, she would have no rank at all, as her husband was not an esquire even—but a "mister" in his own country. To which Mrs. Revenue Board replied:—

"And you, pray? Is not your husband in the Company's service?"

"Yes," rejoined Mrs. DamzÈ; "but you forget the C.B.!"

Let us now return to the Honourable Lieutenant Infantry. When that officer came up, and led away Lady Gallopaway to supper, DamzÈ was overheard to say, "I'll take the shine out of that young gentleman." And, if taking the shine meant constantly bullying the subaltern, DamzÈ certainly kept his word. And when the next hot weather came, and the Lieutenant wished to accompany his sick wife to the Hills, DamzÈ, when he forwarded the application for six months' leave of absence, wrote privately to the Assistant Adjutant-General, and recommended that it should not be granted. The honourable subaltern, however, was rather too strong for his colonel, in the way of interest. Presuming on the acquaintance which existed between his father and the Commander-in-Chief, he wrote a letter to that functionary, and a few days afterwards found himself in general orders. The wrath of DamzÈ may be easily imagined, especially as he had boasted to several of his officers of having put a spoke in the Lieutenant's wheel. And by way of throwing salt upon the Colonel's wounds, the Lieutenant called upon him, and, in the politest manner possible, inquired if there was anything he could do for him at head-quarters.

While at Agra, a Bengalee Baboo called upon me. Judging from his appearance, I should have guessed his age to be about fifty years; but he was upwards of seventy. He spoke English with marvellous fluency and accuracy, and could read and write the language as well and as elegantly as any educated European. He was, perhaps, the cleverest Hindoo whom I encountered during my sojourn in the East. His manners were peculiarly courteous and winning, and there was an air of penitence about the man, which, apart from his abilities, induced me to treat him with kindness and consideration. His name was—let us say—Nobinkissen.

The history of Nobinkissen was simply this. He was a Brahmin of the highest caste, and, at the age of eighteen, was a writer in the service of the government, on a salary of ten rupees per month. He ingratiated himself with every civilian under whom he served, and gradually rose, step by step, until he became the Sheristadar, or head clerk, of a circuit-judge of a court of appeal. In this office he acquired riches, and was still adding to his store, when his official career was brought prematurely to a close.

I must here inform the reader that not one civilian in a hundred, no matter what his rank or grade, can read and write Hindostanee or Persian, although the majority of them have some colloquial knowledge of both those languages. Yet, as a matter of course, they append their signatures to every document of which, on hearing it read aloud to them by their native officials, they approve. Their orders they dictate orally; those orders are transcribed by the Sheristadar, who gives them to a native writer to copy. This done, they are read aloud for correction or approval, and then signed in English by the covenanted civilian. Before leaving office every day, such civilian may have to sign fifty, sixty, or a hundred documents; for the rule is, not to sign each of them when read, but to sign them in a mass at the breaking-up of the court. Here Nobinkissen invented his means of money making. Whenever the judge gave a decree in any case of importance, he made a counterpart of such decree, and when the signing time came, obtained, without any sort of trouble or inquiry, the signature of the Sahib and the seal of the Court to both documents. He was thus, to all intents and purposes—or, at all events, for his own—in possession of something tantamount to the fee-simple of the lands in dispute. He could arm either the appellant or the respondent with the final decree of the Court, under the hand and official seal of the judge. The only question with him now was, which of the litigants would give the most money, and to each, in private, and in the Sahib's name, he exhibited the documents. The highest bidder, of course, gained the day, whereupon Nobinkissen took the coin, handed over one of the decrees, and burnt the other.

It fell out that Nobinkissen was attacked with fever, and, in a state bordering on delirium, he parted with, that is to say, sold, to both respondent and appellant, a decree, under the hand and seal of the judge, such decree arming the holder with the power to take possession of a very large estate in Bengal. Each party, fearful of a disturbance, which often occurs when possession of an estate is sought for, applied to the magistrate of a district, under a certain regulation of government, for assistance, in order to enable him to carry out the judge's decree, which each, as a matter of course, produced. The magistrate was naturally much perplexed, and made a reference to the judge, who could only say he had signed but one decree. There was then a report made to the government by the magistrate. An investigation ensued, and the judge was, meanwhile, suspended, for great suspicion lurked in the minds of many that he was not so innocent as he affected to be. When Nobinkissen recovered from his sickness, and saw the dilemma in which his superior, the judge, was placed, he made a clean breast of it, and confessed that the guilt was his, and his alone. Nobinkissen was tried, convicted, and sentenced to be imprisoned in irons for the term of his natural life. For nine years he was in the gaol at Alipore, near Calcutta. At the expiration of that period he was called upon to furnish some information of which he was possessed, in relation to certain public affairs. He was brought from the prison, confronted with several officials, amongst whom was a member of the council. His altered appearance, his emaciated form, his attitude of despair, and the intelligence and readiness with which he responded to the questions put to him, touched the hearts of those by whom he was examined, and the member of council, who has been since a director of the East India Company, spoke to the Governor-General, and eventually obtained Nobinkissen's pardon and release. The Hindoos and Mussulmans in India (like the Arabs) do not regard being guilty of a fraud or theft as a disgrace. The degrading part of the business is, being convicted, and Nobinkissen, on being set at liberty, could not face his countrymen in Bengal, and therefore retired to the Upper Provinces, where he lived in comparative obscurity, and in easy circumstances, for he had not disgorged his ill-gotten gains. His wife had taken care of them during his captivity.

At the time that Nobinkissen called upon me, the government of India were in considerable difficulty in respect to finance. A new loan had been opened, but it did not fill, and the government had very wisely determined upon closing it. Nobinkissen made this a topic of conversation, and his views—albeit they came from a man who had been convicted of a fraud—are, at the present time especially, entitled to the very gravest consideration.

"Ah, sir!" he remarked, "it is a pitiful thing that the government of a great empire like this should ever be in pecuniary difficulties and put to their wits' end for a few millions annually, in order to make the receipts square with the expenditure."

"But how can it be helped?" I asked.

"Easily, sir," he replied. "Why not make it expedient to do away with the perpetual settlement of Lord Cornwallis, and resettle the whole of Bengal? That is by far the most fertile province in the East; but it is taxed lighter than even these poor lands of the Upper Provinces. Look at the Durbungah Rajah. Nearly the whole of Tirhoot, the garden of India, belongs to him, and he does not pay into the government treasury half a lac (five thousand pounds) per annum, while his collections amount to upwards of twenty lacs. These are the men who get hold of the money and bury it, and keep it from circulating."

"But all zemindarees (lands) are not so profitable in Bengal?"

"No; many are not worth holding—especially the smaller ones, although the land is just as good, and just as well cultivated."

"But how is that?"

"They are so heavily taxed. You must know, sir, that in those days—the days of Lord Cornwallis—the greatest frauds were committed, in respect to the perpetual settlement. The natives who were about, and under, the settlement officers all made immense fortunes, and the zemindars from whom they took their bribes, have profited ever since to the cost of the poorer zemindars, who could not or would not bribe, and to the cost of the British government. It is a great mistake to suppose that the whole of the landholders in Bengal would cry out against a resettlement of that province. Only men holding vast tracts of country, at a comparatively nominal rent, would cry out."

"And tax the British government with a breach of faith?"

"Yes. But what need the government care for that cry, especially when its act is not only expedient, but would be just withal? In Bengal, all the great zemindars are rich, very rich men. In these provinces, with very, very few exceptions, they are poor, so that the whole of Upper India would be glad to see the perpetual settlement done away with, and the land resettled."

"Why so?"

"That is only human—and, certainly, Asiatic—nature. Few of us like to behold our neighbours better off than ourselves; so that the cry of faith-breaking would not meet with a response in this part of the world."

"Yes; but in Europe the cry would be too powerful to contend against. The Exeter Hall orators and the spouters at the Court of Proprietors would—"

"Ah, sir! India should either be governed in India or in England. It is the number of wheels in the government that clogs the movement of the machine."

"Very true."

"But who are these men—these zemindars with whom you are required to keep an implicit faith? Are they your friends? If so, why do they never come forward to assist you in your difficulties? Did a single zemindar, when, after the battle of Ferozeshah, the empire was shaking in the balance, lift a finger to help the government of India? And, to-morrow, if your rule were at stake, and dependent on their assistance, think you they would render it? Think you they would furnish money if your treasury was exhausted? Not one pice! Think you they would furnish men to protect your stations denuded of troops? No! Although hundreds of them can each turn out a thousand or two of followers, armed with iron-bound bludgeons, swords, and shields, when they desire to intimidate an European indigo-planter, or to fight a battle between themselves about a boundary question. These are the men who, in your greatest need, would remain neutral until, if it so happened, you were brought to your last gasp, when, as one man, they would not fail to rise and give you the final blow."

"Do you believe that? I do not."

"Sir, I know my own countrymen better than you do."

"If such a state of affairs were to come about, and these zemindars remained neutral, of course the cry of breaking faith would be absurd in the extreme. Neutrality, in such a case, would be almost as bad as hostility."

[Nobinkissen's prophecy has been fulfilled to the letter. Our rule has been at stake, in imminent peril, and not one of these men has offered to assist us with men or money. The Rajahs of Durbungah and Burdwan alone, to say nothing of the Newab of Moorshedabad, between them could have furnished an army of, at the very least, five thousand stalwart fighting-men, whereas they have looked upon our difficulties in perfect apathy. It is from the coffers of men of this stamp that large sums should be extracted annually towards keeping up a vast—an overwhelming—European force in India. Faith with such men as these! What claim have they to our faintest consideration! What right to expect that we shall any longer forego the collection of several extra millions annually—several extra millions which, to every intent and purpose, is our just due?]

"There is a line in Shakespeare, sir," Nobinkissen continued, "which the government of India should adopt as its motto, and act up to consistently—

'CÆsar never does wrong without just cause.'"

Our conversation was here interrupted by a noise in the road. I went to the window, and observing a great crowd, inquired of one of my servants who was standing in the verandah:—

"What is the matter?"

"A bullock has fallen down, and they are trying to get him up—that is all, Sahib," was the reply.

I rushed to the spot, followed by Nobinkissen, and there beheld a scene which in no other country would have been tolerated by the crowd assembled.

One of a pair of bullocks, drawing an over-laden cart, had from weakness and fatigue, sank beneath the burden. The driver of the animals (a Hindoo) had broken, by twisting it violently, the tail of the poor beast, which was nothing but skin and bone, and was covered with wounds from ill-treatment. Heavy blows and the tail breaking having failed to make the jaded ox stand upon his legs, the driver—heedless of my remonstrance—collected some straw and sticks and lighted a fire all round him. The poor beast now struggled very hard, but was unable to rise, and presently he resigned himself to be scorched to death.

"I always thought that the cow was a sacred animal with Hindoos?" said I to Nobinkissen.

"Yes," said he.

"And here is a Hindoo who works one of his gods till he drops down with sheer fatigue, and then cruelly puts him to death!"

"Yes, that often happens," said Nobinkissen, smiling.

"Then, what an absurdity and inconsistency for the Hindoos at Benares, and other holy places, to make such a noise if an European only strikes a sacred animal with a whip! Why, it was only the other day that a mob collected around the house of the magistrate and set the authorities at defiance: all because the magistrate had ordered that one of the bulls which crowd the streets should be shut up, on the ground that he had gored several people."

"That is the doing of the Brahmins, who incite the people to such acts; and every concession on the part of the government leads those Brahmins to believe that they have great power, and leads the people also to believe it. If a Mahommedan finds one of those bulls in the way, and gives him a thrashing with a thick stick, or probes him in the side with a sword, the Brahmins say nothing, nor do the people of Benares."

"Why is that?"

"Because it would not be worth while. The strife would be profitless; for, you see, sir, the Mahommedans are not the rulers of this country, but the Sahibs are; and hence the jealousy with which they are watched. In time, the Government of India will see the necessity of forbidding Hindoo festivals in the public streets—abolishing them—just as Suttee was abolished. It is only the dissolute rich and the rabble who take any delight in these festivals, many of which are indecent and disgusting. Sensible and respectable Hindoos take no part in them; on the contrary, they avoid them, and think them a nuisance. Hindooism will never become extinct, so long as this world lasts; but the British Government has the power of doing away with those obnoxious observances in the public thoroughfares, which only disfigure the religion."

"Well, in that case, you would have to do away with the Mahommedan festivals?"

"Most certainly—in the public streets. In private, the Mahommedans as well as the Hindoos might be permitted to keep their festivals in whatever way they thought proper. Do you suppose that the Mahommedans, when in power, suffered the Hindoos to block up the streets continually with their processions, as they do now? Think you that they entertained the same consideration for the bulls and the monkeys at Benares as the British now entertain? And when, in turn, the Mahrattas overran this part of the country, think you that Agra was ever deafened, as it now is, with the din of the Buckree Ede and the Mohurrum?"

"Perhaps not. But then you see, Nobinkissen, we are a tolerant people, and wish to convince both creeds that we have no desire to interfere with their religious prejudices in any way whatsoever."

"Yes; but then you are inconsistent, and the consequence is, that you not only get the credit of being insincere, but are imposed upon to the utmost."

"How, inconsistent!"

"Why, you declare that you have no desire to interfere with the religious prejudices of the Hindoo and the Mahommedan; but you, nevertheless, encourage missionary gentlemen to go from station to station to preach in the open air concerning the superiority of your religion over all others. Believe me, sir, this does a great deal of harm."

"Ah! but we make converts!"

"How many do you suppose?"

"I cannot say."

"I can. Take India from one end to the other, and you make, annually, one out of fifty thousand."

"No more?"

"No more, sir! That is the result of preaching in the open air, all over the country, and the distribution of thousands and hundreds of thousands of tracts printed in the Hindostanee and Bengalee languages.

"Well, that is something, Nobinkissen."

"And of what class of people are your converts?"

"Respectable men of all classes, I suppose."

"The dregs of both Hindoos and Mussulmans. The most debased and degraded of Indians—men who only assume Christianity in the hope of temporal advantage and preferment—and who fling aside their newly put-on faith, and laugh and scoff at your credulity the moment they find their hope frustrated. I could give you at least one hundred instances; but one will suffice. Not long ago a Mussulman, named Ally Khan, was converted by Mr. Jones, a missionary in Calcutta, and, shortly after his conversion, obtained an appointment with a salary of one hundred rupees a month, in the Baptist Missionary Society. Here he contrived to embezzle sixteen hundred rupees, for which offence he was indicted in the Supreme Court, found guilty, and sentenced to a year's imprisonment in the Calcutta gaol. On hearing the sentence he exclaimed: 'In the name of the devil, is this the reward of renouncing my religion? Farewell, Christianity! From this hour I am a Moslem again!'

"Another very flagrant case occurred in this very station. A civilian took into his service a recently converted Hindoo, as a sirdar-bearer. The fellow had charge of a money-bag, and ran off with it. And where and how do you suppose he was apprehended? At Hurdwar, taking an active part in the Hoolee Festival! The Roman Catholic priests have long since left off asking the natives of India to become Christians. Those who voluntarily present themselves, are, after a strict examination, and a due warning that they must hope for no temporal advantage, admitted into the Church."

"And do they have any applications?"

"Very very few, indeed; but those whom they admit do, really and truly, become Christians."

These last words of Nobinkissen were scarcely pronounced, when a palkee was brought up to my door, and out of it stepped a Roman Catholic priest—an Italian gentleman, a Jesuit—whom I had met a few evenings previously at the house of a mutual friend. Nobinkissen, who appeared to know the reverend father intimately, related to him the substance of the conversation we had just held, or rather the latter part thereof, and the priest corroborated every allegation that Nobinkissen had made.

"Yea," he added, "we now devote our attention, exclusively, to the spiritual wants of the white man who requires our aid—convinced, as we are, of the hopelessness of the task of converting the Hindoo and the Mussulman to Christianity." And, in addition to the instances of false converts afforded by Nobinkissen, he did not scruple to detail several others of an equally atrocious character and complexion.