ANGLO-INDIAN MANNERS.*

In a former number of 'The Oriental Herald,' we inserted a short notice of a work, from the perusal of which we had derived great pleasure, intitled, "The Bengalee, or Sketches of Society in India.' A press of matter more important, with reference to the main object of our labours, prevented us at that time from selecting passages, confirmatory of the high opinion we expressed of its merits, and of the principles and talents of its author. Like most other productions, illustrative of the state and condition of India, The Bengalee' is an anonymous publication. In this instance, however, the concealment of the writer's name must, we imagine, have been suggested more by whim than precaution. There surely can be no party, either in England or India, who could possibly take offence at the good humoured criticism of Eastern manners, by which this Asiatic Spectator' is distinguished, and there is no more reason why 'The Bengalee' should appear in mask, than there was for the incognito of the author of Waverley.' We promise him golden opinions from all who read his instructive and entertaining sketches; whether they be proprietors of India stock, or profligate interlopers; and though by no means anxious to disparage the utility and interest of enquiries into the Zemindarry and Ryotwarry tenures; the policy of European colonization, or the tea, opium, and salt monopolies, we must candidly acknowledge that a few Indian reminiscences and reflections, from which these, no doubt, very important topics are altogether excluded, are to us peculiarly animating and refreshing.

Indeed, when we reflect on the extraordinary relation which exists between English society and Indian associations, we are inclined to consider The Bengalee' as a much more important character, than the mere narrator of interesting tales. Among these, whom birth or accident have placed within the spheres of competence or affluence, who can read a description of life in India, its hopes and pleasures, its dangers and disappointments, without awakening the remembrance of the associates of early youth, the more intimate connections of kindred, the friends of mature age, or the companions in peril and adventure? Life in India is, for the most part, an honourable retreat, in which the pride and luxury of the superior ranks, seek for their dependent relatives, a refuge from the hard struggle of life in England. To India, numbers are taught to look as to a certain provision, for the attainment of which, childhood, if not infancy, is to be for ever severed from the closest and most endearing ties. Whole families grow up, reconciled to distant separation, by the prospect of early fortune, and the delusive hope of

"The Bengalee, or Sketches of Society and Manners in the East. Loudon Smith and Elder. 1824.'

speedy return. Every resource of influence and patronage, is exerted to obtain appointments to a service, which secures mediocrity from the contingency of want, in which the eager rivalry of competitors is unknown, and talent and industry may expect munificent reward; but how few there are who admit into their calculations, the dangers of inexperience, the probabilities of happiness, the chances of health; or who venture into one calm, deliberate inquiry into the real recommendations of a career, in which the first step is solicited with so much eagerness, and conferred with such parade and ostentation.

It certainly is desirable that correct notions should prevail on a subject, in which so many are interested, and that the actual advantages of going out' and staying at home,' should be accurately understood. Reference being had to the chance of gaining Indian preferment, and of living to enjoy its fruits, to the privations to be undergone in the pursuit, and the actual value when obtained, is a writership, or a cadetship, really so eligible a provision as is commonly supposed? Is the power of disposing of them a reasonable object of the highest ambition?" What proportion of the young men at Addiscombe and Haileybury, would remain in Europe, if they knew what they must encounter when they arrive in Asia? Would it not be better that a class of emigrants, more moderate in their hopes, expecting less, and therefore less easily disappointed, should, for the future, maintain our power and influence in India ? Is it desirable that all the European employés of the Hon. Company, should be chosen from the rank of gentlemen; or would the more fortunate orders of society have much reason to regret the sacrifice of some portion of the patronage now distributed among them? Dr. Johnson is accused of having infused too much of his own melancholy and gloom into the pages of his 'Rasselas' and 'Rambler. This cannot be said of The Bengalee.' He is, beyond question, a cheerful companion; and all the agrémens of life, as it is in India, will be found skilfully depicted in his book; but the temptations, annoyances, vexations, and disgusts, are also faithfully described, and we leave it to our readers to determine which preponderate.

For this purpose, we select 'Life in India,' 'Life in the Mofussil,' and Leaving India,' from which a very clear conception may be formed of the prospects of a youth who enters into the military or civil service of the East India Company. There are many other references in the list of 'contents,' which may lead the reader to sketches equally entertaining, and perhaps better calculated to exhibit the talent of the author; but these are more to our purpose, because in them amusement and instruction are agreeably combined.

'Life in India.'

"Life in India !"-'tis a strange misnomer; there is no life there, it is mere existence, as we all know: but such is the title

of a chapter in more books than one, de Nobis et Nostris, and we must take it as it is. Many wise men of the West profess to give our friends in that part of the world a notion of our social and domestic manners, and to trace the influence which the climate and customs of the East have upon an Englishman, when submitted to that ordeal. The picture I have sometimes seen drawn in a lively, if not a very deep, manner; and at every turn I have been called upon to make allowance for errors, which are to be ascribed to prepossessions so firmly fixed, that even ocular demonstration, I fear, could not eradicate them, The general sketches necessarily exhibit some features to which we are no strangers; but they overlook traits, and commit errors, which it is a part of 'The Bengalee's' business to supply and to correct.

'Nothing can be more erroneous than the notion, once entertained at home, of "Life in India." I believe that, now-a-days, fewer errors find their way into our countrymen's estimate of the extent of comfort, happiness, and luxury, which we enjoy, who toil away in these regions of sun and superstition. The communication between England and India is now too general, and too easy and frequent, to permit many of the absurd conceptions formerly entertained, finding room for belief; and the greatness, the riches, splendour and luxuries enjoyed by us East Indians, are pretty correctly appreciated over England at large. When, indeed, a wealthy Nabob returns to his native country, and sits him down, and acts the great man in the parish, where, perhaps, he once herded sheep, he does not fail to create such conceptions as to the great fortunes to be acquired in India, and the sure road that leads to them, as conduct to some practical results very much to be deplored. The youth, just about to step into life at home, and to follow the humble occupation of his father, where he would be happy, is seized with the ambition to go to India, where he is sure to be miserable. The father remembers the Nabob, a poor man's son like his own; he argues, naturally enough, why may not my boy also obtain a carriage and a retinue of servants. He sends him to try, and soon, too soon, has to weep and wail over "Life in India."

"Life in India" is, however, fairly to be estimated, as found in the different avocations that it presents-the civil and military services of the Honourable Company, and the mere adventurer. So far as rank and consequence are concerned, the first of these holds out the great prizes of the Honourable Company, and is the great object of ambition. These prizes are necessarily limited to a few lucky sons of fortune, and they are, therefore, the higher esteemed. With a writership in his pocket, the child of the first man in England, even at this day, fancies his fortune made; looks to a short and merry "Life in India;" a long and wealthy one in England. Out he comes, always what I should call a genteellooking boy; somewhat slightly built in general, for encountering

any of the rude blasts of the world, and having a goodly smattering of his mother's drawing-room hanging about him. His mannersI speak of the general race of young writers always please me; there is something very English about him-by which I do not mean very rough, but a happy mixture of that independence of mind and amenity of manner, which constitute the true English character. When these embryo rulers are collected together, before merging from the Buildings, there is, no doubt, to be seen also not a few of an Englishman's peculiar faults and weaknesses; but these are such raræ aves over the service in general, that there is nothing I enjoy more than an evening in the Buildings. “Life in India" is, then, with my old recollections and feelings, something like to what I remember was-Life in England. There are good manners, and honourable and high feeling; articles, however, which, I must warn their young possessors, require the utmost care to preserve in this climate, and which are always best just on importation. It may appear finical, when I add, that there is an English way of putting on his clothes about a young writer, before he is launched to rusticate in the Mofussil, which I like; as in the company of a dozen of these dandies, I am reminded of the respect, in this particular, which I once,- once alas! paid myself to the article of dress, when I was glad at the idea of pleasing a mother, a sister, or still dearer creature- a sweetheart. In short, the only scene in the drama of “Life in India," that is like Old England, is to be found in the Buildings. Once out of them,— once banished to a country station, where Englishmen are scattered some hundred miles distant from each other, or where, if they cougregate, it is on the artificial graduated scale of Judge, Magistrate, Collector, Register, Assistant ditto, Doctor, and all that is English, is found to be on the wane. By the time the Writer comes back to the Presidency a Judge, or something greater, he has been converted into the most anomalous of all human beings. There is still something English about him, it is true; he is generally proud enough; but it is an Asiatic, not a European, bearing of consequence. He seems to expect that all that are in his way should hurry out of it, that the path may be left for him alone. He has been so long accustomed to measure his own humanity by the standard of a conquered and degraded race around him, he fancies he has risen proportionably above every other class of mankind, with whom he may afterwards chance to come in contact, as above his Omlahs and his Chobedars; and his own countrymen are but Hindoos in his estimation, however much they may transcend him in every thing like intelligence, honour, and common sense. I remember, when I was a youngster, once encountering one of these Burra Sahibs in company; the conversation turned on the nature of landed tenure in India, and having at that time been reading Paton, Colebrooke, Rous, and a host of other writers on the subject, I fancied myself qualified to say a word on it. Accordingly

I ventured, with all the diffidence an Assistant, in the presence of a Member of the Board of Revenue, may be expected to feel, to say something in opposition to the great man's views of the matter, about the sovereign having allodial possession of the soil.

**Allodial!" exclaimed the Burra Sahib, with a look of ineffable contempt and triumph, “allodial! there is no such word in the regulations!"

* If those at home, who are so ambitious of sending out a son in the service of the Honourable Company, would look at the few who live to return to their native country, and remark the change that has come over them, I cannot help thinking that they would feel less anxious about procuring a writer-ship or a cadetship for Master Edward, and Master Tom. I was long ago a sojourner in Old England, and had an opportunity of comparing some old folks, who had started from school together-the one to rough it through life at Home-the other to plod his weary way through « Life in India." Comparison there was none between the manliness, tentedness, and good-humour of the home-bred Englishman, and the hauteur, restlessness, and discontented demeanour of the old Koce-Hy. Unhappy and displeased at every turn he took, the old Indian found every corner sharp enough to ruffle his temper and destroy his happiness: while the honest English Squire swore a big oath at the hinderance, brushed past it, and thought no more of it. I make all manner of allowance for bile and bad liver, which rewards the toils of a Life in India,” but these evils would be surmounted, were it only possible to avoid the moral contamination, arising from cohabiting with a race, between whom and an Englishman there is no sympathy; and I am borne out in my theory, if it please the reader to call it so, by the fact, that this moral comtamination is found to exist most unequivocally, and to the greatest extent, among those who have been most withdrawn from European society, and who have spent the greater part of their “ Life in India," amidst the native population.

*I am not, however, contending that there are no exceptions to the general picture I have drawn. I have known some few men, so happily constituted, that amidst all the temptations by which they have been surrounded, they have returned to the Presidency almost, if not altogether, as much English, as when they left the Buildings. It is, therefore, possible to preserve in this country the feelings, and habits, and prejudices, if you will, without which Life in England, when « Life in India" is over, will present but a dreary blank; and as I write more especially for the benefit of my young friends in the Buildings, I hope they will keep this possibility in mind. They cannot look forward, even by the help of their pension, to getting home again very soon; but they may contrive, I think, to keep alive the habits, that are to render that home a happy one, when at length they reach it. And, I believe, there is