The Brahmin gives Atterley a history of his life.

"I have already informed you that I was born at Benares, which, as you know, is a populous city on the banks of the Ganges, and the most celebrated seat of Hindoo science and literature. My father was a priest of Vishun, of a high rank; and as his functions required him to live within the precincts of the Pagoda, he was liberally maintained out of its ample revenues. I was his only son, and according to the usage of our country, was destined to the same holy calling. At an early age I was put under a private tutor, and then sent to one of the schools attached to the Pagoda. Upon what little matters, my dear Atterley, do our fortunes, and even our characters depend! Had I been sent to another school, the whole destiny of my life would have been changed.

"I was in my twelfth year when I entered this school, which contained from thirty to forty boys about my age. The cleverest of these was Balty Mahu, who, like myself, belonged to the higher order of Brahmins. He took the lead, not only in the exercises within the school, but in all the sports and pastimes out of it. Nature, however, had not been equally kind to him in temper and disposition. He was restless, ambitious, proud, vindictive, and implacable. He could occasionally, too, practise cunning and deception; although anger and violence were more congenial to his nature.

"It soon appeared that I was to be his rival in the school, and from that moment he cordially hated me. The praises that had previously been lavished on him by the teacher, were now shared by me, and most of the boys secretly rejoiced to see his proud spirit humbled. In our sports I was also his successful competitor. Nature had given me an excellent constitution; and though I had not a very robust frame, I could boast of great agility and flexibility of limbs. When the sun had descended behind the mountain which screened our play-ground from his evening rays, we commonly amused ourselves in foot-races, and other pastimes, of which running was an important part. In this exercise I had no equal. I could also jump higher and farther than any boy in school, except one, and that one was not Balty Mahu.

"His ill-will was not slow in manifesting itself. He took every occasion of contradicting me: sometimes indulged in sly sneers at my expense, and now and then even attempted to turn me into open ridicule. I always replied with spirit; but I found such contests as disagreeable to me as they were new. One evening, under the pretext that I had purposely jostled him in running, he struck me, and we fought. Although he was probably stronger than I, as he was heavier and older, my suppleness enabled me to get the better of him in a wrestle; and I got him under me, when the master, attracted by the shouts of the boys, made his appearance. He separated and reproved us, and sent us off in disgrace to our respective rooms. From that time Balty Mahu treated me with more outward respect than before; but I believe he hated me with more rancour than ever.

"I had now become the general favourite of the boys. The school was, indeed, divided into parties, but mine was much the strongest; and of those who adhered to my rival, very few seemed cordially to dislike me. Though this state of things was very annoying to me, it proved advantageous in one respect, as it made me more diligent in my studies, lest I should furnish my rival with an occasion of triumphing ever me; so that I owe a part of what I gained to the enmity of my rival.

"When I had reached my sixteenth year, I was removed to the college in Benares. This is commonly a very interesting event in the life of a youth, as it reminds him that he is drawing near the period of manhood, and leaves him more a master of his actions. But on the present occasion my pleasure had two drawbacks: I could not but feel the contrast between the warm and confiding attachment of my late school-fellows, and the coldness and reserve of my new companions. Yet the most disagreeable circumstance was, that I here met with my former rival, Balty Mahu. He had entered the college about a month before me, and, aware of my intention, had spared no pains, as I afterwards learnt, of prejudicing the students against me.

"After a few months, however, our relative standing was the same here as it had been at the school. I gradually overcame the prejudices of the students, and gained their good will, while he was always giving offence by his meddlesome disposition and overbearing manners: yet his talents and force of character always procured him a few followers, whom he managed as he pleased. Of their aid he made use to gratify his malevolence towards me, for this feeling had grown with his growth, and now seemed to be the master passion of his breast. I was able to trace the result of their machinations every where. Sometimes it was intimated to the teachers that I had been assisted in my exercises; at others, that I had infringed the college rules, or had put false reports in circulation, or had neglected some of the many ceremonies required by our religion. This was their favourite, as well as the most efficient mode of attack, as in these respects there was some colour for their accusation.

"In my early childhood I had been spared, by the tenderest of mothers, from many of the ablutions practised by the Hindoos, under the belief that they would be injurious to my constitution, which, though healthy, had never been robust. A foundation was thus laid with me for habitual remissness in these ceremonies; and after I grew up, I persuaded myself that they were of less importance than they were deemed by my countrymen. My chief delight had ever been in books; and although, when engaged in active pursuits, I took a lively interest in them for the time, I always returned to my first love with unabated ardour.

"Some of these accusations, being utterly groundless, I was able to disprove; but the few that were true I endeavoured to excuse, and thus, by their admission, credit was procured for their most unfounded calumny. These petty transgressions, (for I cannot even now regard them as sins,) industriously reported and artfully exaggerated, did me lasting injury with all the most pious of our caste. The charitable portion, indeed, were merely estranged from me; but the more bigoted part began to regard me with aversion and horror.

"In one of our vacations, my father allowed me to visit a brother of his, who lived in the country, about thirty miles from Benares. My uncle had two sons, of nearly my own age, and several daughters. With the former I rode, played chess, and engaged in such sports as are not forbidden to my profession; but my female cousins I seldom saw, as they rarely left their Zenana, into which I was not permitted to enter. I was of an age to be desirous of becoming better acquainted with my female cousins, especially after I learnt that they then had as guests, a lady and her daughter, who had come to pass some weeks here during the absence of her husband, then employed in some public mission to Calcutta. But it was only now and then that I had been able to catch a transient and distant view of these females, during the first week after my arrival; and the little I saw, served but to increase my curiosity. Chance, however, soon afforded me the means of gratifying it.

"An important festival in our calendar was now approaching, and preparations were made to celebrate it in various modes, and, amongst others, by a fight between a royal tiger and an elephant. For several days all was bustle and confusion in my uncle's family. Howdahs, newly gilded and painted, were provided for the elephants—new caparisons for the horses—new liveries for the attendants—cloth and silk, of the richest dyes and hues, united with a profusion of gold and silver ornaments, to dazzle the eye with their varied splendour. This was one of those exhibitions, which those who were intended for the priesthood, were prohibited from attending. I confess, when I witnessed these showy and costly preparations, and pictured to myself the magnificent scene for which they were intended—those formidable animals contending in mortal conflict—the thousands of gaily dressed spectators, gazing in breathless anxiety,—I repined at my lot, and regretted I had not been born in a condition which, though of less dignity, would not have cut me off from some of the most exquisite pleasures of life. At length the important day arrived, and I found my mortification so acute, that I determined to withdraw myself, as much as I could, from a scene that I could not witness without pain. Among my acquirements at college, was a knowledge of your language; and I had now begun to take the liveliest interest in its beautiful fictions, which I greatly preferred to ours, as being more true to nature, and as exhibiting women in characters at once lovely, pure, and elevated. I was then reading "The Vicar of Wakefield," and had reached the middle of that interesting tale, on the morning of the festival, when my tranquillity was interrupted in the way I have mentioned. Accordingly, taking my book and English dictionary, I retired to a small summer-house at the foot of the garden, and determined to remain there till the cavalcade had set out. It was some time before I could fix my attention on what I read; but after a while, the interest the book had previously excited returned, and I became at length so engrossed by the incidents of the story, as to forget the festival, the procession, the tiger, and the elephant, as much as if they had never before entered my head.

"After some hours passed in this intellectual banquet, I waked from my day dream, and I thought again of the spectacle with a feeling bordering on indifference. I walked towards the house, where all appeared to be still and silent as a desert. I entered it, and of the forty or fifty menials belonging to it, not one was to be seen. Those who were not in attendance on the family, had sought some respite from their ordinary labours. The Zenana then caught my eye, and I felt irresistibly impelled to enter it. I used great caution, however, looking around me in every direction as I proceeded there. I found the same silence and desertion as in the other parts of the mansion. I passed through a sitting-room into a long gallery, with which the bed-chambers of the ladies communicated. The doors were all open, and the whole interior of their apartments exhibited so strange a medley of unseemly objects, and such utter disorder, as materially to affect my opinion of female delicacy, and to damp my desire of becoming acquainted with my cousins. I passed on, with a feeling of disappointment bordering on disgust, when I came to a room which went far to redeem the character of the sex in my estimation. Here all was neatness and propriety: every thing was either in place, or only enough out of it to indicate the recent occupation of the room, or to show the taste or talent of the occupant; such as a book left half open at one end of an ottoman, and a piece of embroidery at the other. The flowers too, which decorated the room, showed by their freshness that they had not long left their beds. I could not help stopping to survey a scene which accorded so well with my previous notions of female refinement. At the end of the gallery was a veranda, facing the east, and surrounded by lattices. In this were a number of flower-pots, arranged with the same air of neatness and taste as had been conspicuous in the chamber. I entered it, for the purpose of looking into the flower-garden, with which it communicated; and on approaching the lattice, I saw, seated in an alcove not far from the veranda, a face and form that struck me as being the most beautiful I had ever beheld. I remained for some time riveted to the spot, but soon found myself irresistibly impelled to get a nearer view of the lovely object. With as light a step and as little noise as possible, I descended into the garden from the veranda, and approaching the alcove on the side where its foliage was thickest, I found that the beauty, of which I had before thought so highly, did not appear less on a closer survey. The vision on which I gazed in silent rapture, a maiden, who, though she had apparently attained her full stature, did not seem to be more than thirteen or fourteen years of age. Her eyes had the brightness and fulness of the antelope's, but, owing to their long silken lashes, were yet more expressive of softness than of spirit; and at this time they evinced more than usual languor. She was in a rich undress, and was apparently an invalid. Her long raven locks hung with careless grace, partly behind, and partly over, a neck that might have served as a model for the sculptor. She was looking wistfully on a bunch of flowers in her hand, which I felt pleasure in recognising to be the same I had seen on the piece of embroidery. I feared to advance, lest I should give offence; but I felt also unable to retreat. I fancied I saw one of those lovely and dignified females which the writers in your language describe so well. But a sudden movement of the fair damsel to get up, bringing me full in her view, she started back with alarm and surprise, and in a moment afterwards her cheek, which had been before pale, almost to European whiteness, was deeply suffused. I respectfully approached her, and inquired if she was one of my cousins. She answered in the negative; said she was on a visit to the family, to whom she was related: added that she had not expected to see any one in the garden; but this was said as if she meant rather to apologise for her undress, than to reproach me for my intrusion. These remarks were uttered with a propriety and sweetness that won upon me yet more than her beauty. I then, in return, assured her that I had not supposed any of the family had remained at home, when I strolled to this part of the mansion. I begged she would not regard me with the formality of a stranger; and insisted that, as she was the cousin of my relation, she was also mine. To this ingenious argument she answered with so much good sense, and at the same time, so much gentleness and artlessness, that I thought I could have listened to her for ever. While I spoke, she continued to move on. I entreated to know if she was satisfied with my apology; repeated that I had not meant to intrude on her privacy. She mildly replied that she was. I then asked permission to call her cousin. She said she should not object, if it would gave me pleasure. It was, my dear Atterley, her ineffable sweetness of disposition, and of manners so entirely free from pride, coquetry, or affectation, in which this lovely creature excelled all other women, yet more than in beauty and grace. I then inquired when I should again see my lovely cousin. She replied, "I walk in the great garden sometimes with my companions, when their brothers are away; but the girls will not think it proper to walk when you are there." Perceiving that I looked chagrined, she added: "It is said, you know, that the light from mens' eyes is yet worse for womens' faces than the light of the sun;" and she blushed as if she had said something wrong. I stammered out I know not what extravagant compliment in reply, and entreated that I might have an opportunity of seeing and conversing with her sometimes: to which she promptly answered that she should not object, if her mother approved it. I inquired why she had not attended the exhibition; when I learnt from her, that, as she had been slightly indisposed the day before, and her mother being unwilling she should expose herself to the heat of the weather and the crowd, she had been left under the care of her nurse; but that finding herself better, she had permitted her attendants to walk over the grounds, while she amused herself in embroidery; and that she had come into the garden to get a fresh supply of the flowers she was working.

"She had by this time approached a small gate, which communicated with the apartments on the ground-floor of the Zenana; when, turning to me, she said, "You can return the way you came, but I must leave you here;" and, making a slight bow, she sprung like a young fawn through the gate, and was out of sight in a moment.

"You may wonder, my dear Atterley, that I should remember all these minute circumstances, after the lapse of more than forty years; but every incident of that day is as fresh in my memory as the occurrence of yesterday. To this single green spot in my existence, my mind is never tired of returning.

"I continued for some time in a sort of dreaming ecstasy; but as soon as I collected my thoughts, I began to devise some scheme by which I could again have the happiness of seeing and conversing with the lovely Veenah. My brain had before that time teemed with ambitious projects of distinguishing myself; sometimes as a priest—sometimes as a writer; and occasionally I thought I would bend all my efforts to rouse my countrymen to throw off the ignominious yoke of Great Britain. But this short interview had changed the whole current of my thoughts. I had now a new set of feelings, opinions, and wishes. My mind dwelt solely upon the pleasures of domestic life—the surpassing bliss of loving and of being beloved.

"When the cavalcade returned in the evening, its gaudy magnificence, which I would not permit myself even to see in the morning, I now regarded with cold indifference; nay, more, I congratulated myself on having missed the exhibition, though a few hours before I had deemed this privation one of the misfortunes of my life.

"The next day I went to the garden betimes; and as it communicated with the shrubbery and grounds attached to the Zenana, and the males of the family occasionally entered it when the ladies were not present, I prevailed on the gardener to grant me admission, under the pretext of gathering some uncommonly fine mangoes, which were then ripe. I went to the several spots where I had first seen Veenah—where I had conversed with her—where I had parted from her; and they each had some secret and indescribable charm for me. I fear, Atterley, I fatigue you. The feelings of which I speak, are fully known only to the natives of warm climates, and to those but once in their lives."

I assured him that he was mistaken; that the emotions he described, were the same in all countries, and at all times, and begged him to proceed.

"I repeated my visit," he continued, "several times the same day, under any pretext I could invent—to gather an orange, or other fruit—to pluck a rose—to frighten away mischievous birds—to catch the unobstructed breeze, or sit in a cooler shade; in which artifices I played a part that had before been foreign to my nature. I was disappointed, however, in my wishes. I thought, indeed, I once saw some one in the veranda, looking through the lattice into the garden, but the figure soon disappeared.

"On the following day I had the satisfaction to hear my young companions propose to go on a fishing party, an amusement in which, by the rules of my caste, I was not allowed to partake. They had scarcely left the house before I flew to the garden with a book in my hand, and passing as before to the shrubbery, I buried myself in a close thicket at one end of it. I remained there from the morning till late in the afternoon, without refreshment of any kind; and such was the intensity of my emotion, that I did not feel the want of it. At length, a little before sunset, I saw Veenah and her three cousins enter the garden. I soon contrived to show myself, with my book in my hand. I approached, bowed to them all, but to Veenah last; and although my cousins showed surprise at seeing me in their garden, at this time, they did not seem displeased. I felt very desirous, I could not tell why, to conceal my feelings from every person except her who was the object of them. I forced a conversation with my two eldest cousins, who were modest pleasing girls, and then with an embarrassed air addressed a few words to Veenah and her companion, the youngest of my cousins. Occasionally I would stray off from them as if I was about to leave them, and then suddenly return. In one of these movements, I perceived that Veenah and her associate had separated from the others, and strolled to a distant part of the garden. I soon joined them as if it were by accident, entered into conversation with them alternately, and of course only one half of that which I either heard or said proceeded from the heart or found its way thither. I know not if Veenah expected to see me, but she was dressed with unusual care. We had not been conversing many minutes before the eldest sister beckoning to them, they bid me good night and returned to the house.

"To the same sort of management I had recourse every day, and seldom failed to see and converse with Veenah, sometimes in company with all her cousins, but oftener with Fatima, the youngest. By dividing my attentions among them all, I succeeded for a while in concealing from them the object of my preference; but the sex are too sharp-sighted to be long deceived in these matters. As soon as I perceived that my secret was discovered, I endeavoured to make a friend of Fatima, in which I was successful. After this our meetings were more frequent, and what was of greater importance, they were uninterrupted. Fatima, who was one of the most generous and amiable girls in the world, would often take Veenah out to walk, when her sisters were otherwise engaged; at which times she was perpetually contriving, under some little pretext, to leave us alone. We were not long in understanding each other; and when I urged our early marriage, she ingenuously replied, that I had her consent whenever I had her father's, and that she hoped I could obtain that; but added, (and she trembled while she spoke) she did not know his views respecting her. In the first raptures of requited affection, what lover thinks of difficulties? In obtaining Veenah's heart I believed that all mine were at an end, and my time was passed in one dream of unmixed delight. Oh! what happiness I enjoyed in these interviews—in seeing Veenah—in gazing on her lovely features—in listening to her sentiments, that were sometimes gay and thoughtless, sometimes serious and melancholy, but always tender and affectionate,—and now and then, when not perceived, in venturing to take her hand. These fleeting joys are ever recurring to my imagination, to show me what my lot might have been, and to contrast it with its sad reverse!

"The time now approached for Veenah and her mother to return to Benares. On the evening before they set out, Fatima contrived for us a longer interview than usual. It was as melancholy as it was tender. But in the midst of my grief, at the prospect of our separation, I recollected that we were soon to meet again in the city; while Veenah's tears, for she did not attempt to disguise or suppress her feelings, seemed already to forebode that our happiness was here to terminate.

"When about to part, we exchanged amaranths I took her hand to bid her adieu, and, without seeming to intend it, our lips met, and the first kiss of love was moistened with a tear. Pardon me, Atterley, nature will have her way."—And here the venerable man wept aloud.

I availed myself of this interruption to the narrative, to propose to my venerable friend to take some refreshment. Having partaken of a frugal repast, and invigorated ourselves, each with about four hours sleep, the Brahmin thus resumed his story.