Barripore, November 28, 1843.

SOLITUDE.

How extraordinary does this utter solitude appear! I have just been outside the bungalow: there is none of that confused murmuring sound which is almost universal in England. Every noise is distinctly heard: a child's voice, or a dove's coo, appears to break the intensity of the silence. And then, the thought that, excepting a few barbarians, there is not a human being within a day's journey! The whole feeling is exciting, but oppressive. Millions of black heathens interpose between me and a single European; and yet, with one brace of pistols and a good thick stick, I feel myself perfectly secure. But I will give an instance of the power which each European possesses over these people.

When I went to Balasore with the L.'s, we had four palanquins, and consequently forty bearers. At one place, where we stopped to change men, Mrs. L. sent a man to my palanquin to say that she wanted to speak to me. I at once walked across to the spot where her palanquin stood. The night was as dark as pitch, with a nasty drizzling rain. The red flaming torches disclosed a group of from eighty to a hundred natives, with their long black hair and immense mustachios, naked, except a cloth round their loins.

As we changed bearers here, there was of course a double set present. We had four palanquins—one containing a native nurse and three of Captain L.'s children; another, Captain L. and one child; another, Mrs. L.; and the fourth was my own. On one side of the road was a dense thicket, or jungle; on the other, a deep canal, called by the natives a "nullah;" and these, as well as the dusky group, were flittingly lighted by the torches of the mussalchees. Every man, as is the custom, had a long stick in his hand. We were many hours' journey from any European; Captain L. was totally enfeebled by sickness; and, in short, I was the only person who could have attempted to knock a man down.

SOCIAL RELATION OF EUROPEANS AND NATIVES.

But mark the power of white skin (not but that mine is getting somewhat mahogany colour): when I bent down to learn what Mrs. L. wanted, she was too faint and weak to speak loud, and the abominable babbling of the hundred men about us prevented the possibility of my hearing what she said.

"Choop ruho!" (keep quiet) I called out, but to no effect. "Choop ruho!" I bawled, but still to no avail; I could not hear what Mrs. L. said. Suddenly I snatched the stick out of the hand of the man next me, just gave it a little flourish, and jumped into the middle of the crowd. "You want the whip, eh?" I shouted. "Choop ruho, will you?" (for a word or two of English generally slips in either at the beginning or the end of a hasty sentence). In one instant there was a dead silence: not a word of resistance, or even insolence. Mrs. L. was weak and faint, and it seemed she wanted a glass of wine-and-water; this detained us a little time, but as long as we remained there I found that, even if a whisper arose, the single word "Choop" was sufficient to quiet it directly.

Now, some people may say, here is a long story about nothing, or rather about getting a glass of wine-and-water; but I wish you to observe everything that takes place. Now, the nullah and the jungles, and the torches and the palanquins, are no great wonders in themselves, but together they make a pretty picture, or rather a striking one; and so through life you will find that every half-dozen things that you observe will either form, or assist in forming, some picture in your minds, which will certainly prove amusing or useful, or both.

Then, again, suppose I had told you that I desired the men to be quiet, and they obeyed me: that would have been much shorter, but it would not have led the mind on to any other train of thought; whereas the narrative, as I have related it, suggests many ideas which, if followed up, would fill whole pages; for instance—

1st. Why did the men dread the whip, when they were equally well armed?

2nd. Are they accustomed to feel it?

3rd. Are they generally oppressed, and in what way; and would a native government be an advantage to them?

4th. In what does that superiority consist which makes one hundred Hindus afraid of one European?

5th. What is civilization? What is the difference between real civilization, and that knowledge of arts and sciences, of railroads and balloons, which is commonly dignified with the name? And also what is the connexion between real, true civilization and religion?

Here are a few out of numberless trains of thought and questions which might arise, and do naturally arise, from the little anecdote I have given. Now, suppose I had said, "At one stage Mrs. L. said something to me which I could not well make out on account of the noise the men made; however, I soon quieted them, and then found that she wanted some wine-and-water." That description would have given no idea of what actually took place, neither would it have afforded any subject for after consideration.

It was bitterly cold last night. I had on cloak, trowsers, a flannel jacket next my skin, a thick coat buttoned up to my neck, a double blanket over me, and both doors of my palkee shut. Yet I awoke about four o'clock this morning shivering with the cold, and was glad to get out and have a good run of two or three miles, flapping my arms against my sides, to restore the warmth. Mrs. Acland has complained of the cold for the last two days, even at twelve o'clock at noon. The fact is, people here become so accustomed to intense heat that they often find the cold weather very trying, and the hot season is notoriously the most healthy part of the year, though I fancy it is now as warm as an English summer.

Poor Mr. B., with whom we stayed while at Pooree, has had an attack of the terrible jungle-fever, and will, I fear, be obliged to return to England. A sick person, at least in my district, is quite a rarity: all the diseases are so rapid in their operation, that a week's illness is considered a long time. If it is violent, the patient generally dies in a few hours, or at most in two or three days; if slight, he is by that time convalescent, and generally proceeds at once either to the Cape of Good Hope or to England.