Impressed, from the moment at which we begin to think, with many gratuitous notions; bred up with local prejudices; accustomed to respect certain institutions, and to confound acquired habits with natural instincts; we view at a maturer age, without surprise, the complex structure of refined society. It becomes difficult to disentangle the perplexity of its combinations; to separate that which is essential to its existence, from what is added by caprice; and that which is conducive to our happiness, from what is illusive or pernicious. An ingenious device practised for this purpose, by the learned, has been the introduction of individuals of a distant nation, unacquainted with our opinions, and untainted with our prejudices, but imbued with other opinions and other prejudices of a contrary tendency; the opposition of which furnishes us at once with an agreeable entertainment, and an instructive moral lesson. By the illusion of fine writing, we can place ourselves in the situation of this stranger; admire and wonder at objects which we have before viewed without either wonder or admiration; and possibly withdraw our reverence from others which we have hitherto considered with respect. A Persian, a Turk, a Chinese, and a Jew, have each taken the trouble of publishing their remarks for our edification; and we are now introduced to a Hindoo Rajah, who is come to laugh at our follies, to condemn our vices, and to contrast the capricious fluctuation of our modes and sentiments with the perennial simplicity of eastern manners.

It is, indeed, scarcely necessary to inform our readers that this is a work of fiction and fancy, designed to place before the view of the English reader a picture of the prevalent manners and customs of his country, in the novel colours of a supposed Hindoo painter. It may be more acceptable, because the circumstance is less apparent, to acquaint them that the actual delineator of this sketch is sister of the late Capt. Charles Hamilton, translator of the History of the Rohillas, and of the Hedaya; of which works the reader will find accounts in our 77th vol. p. 395. and vol. vii. N.S. p. 417. The chief point to which we shall direct our attention will naturally be the keeping preserved by the fair artist, in handling her oriental pencil.

The prefixed dissertation is designed for an epitome of the religious and political opinions of the Hindoos, in order to familiarize the reader with the allusions and images introduced in the work. From the perusal of it, we derive no addition to our stock of information collected from the same recent publications which have supplied this lady with her materials: but such works are not yet sufficiently numerous, nor are the antiquities of which they treat sufficiently explored, to permit us to rely, with much confidence, on many curious conjectures which they seem to authorize, relative to the antient state of the nation which now inhabits the fertile region washed and enriched by the Ganges. Our knowledge is confined to a few isolated facts; while all around is buried in “darkness visible.” In proportion, however, to the accumulation of these facts, and the degree of critical acumen and philosophic research with which they may be investigated and appreciated, we shall gradually be enabled to tread with a firmer step, among the antiquities of this singular people: to whom, perhaps, much of the mythology, much of the science, and many of the arts, cultivated by the western nations, may ultimately be traced:—but, with the scanty materials which could be drawn from English authors, it will not appear surprising if our fair writer herself should sometimes fall, and sometimes lead her Rajah, into mistakes, which a moderate degree of local knowledge would have enabled her to avoid. In assigning the Barampooter as the eastern limit of Hindostan, she cuts off some of its richest provinces; in bestowing on its antient government a federative form, she has embraced too readily a most questionable hypothesis; and in exempting the Hindoos from all hatred or contempt of other nations, she has totally mistaken the genius and character of the sons of Bramha, in whom a contempt of foreigners is inculcated and excused by the precepts of their religion. A less venial error occurs in the passage where Genesa is said to be the ‘Janus of the Grecian mythology,’ in which this Italian deity had no place.

The dissertation is in general well written, though we must except the following ungrammatical sentence: ‘those religious prejudices which kept them in a state of perpetual separation from their conquerors has tended,’ &c. ‘A pathetic indifference,’ too, is an expression to which we cannot reconcile ourselves.

We now come to the fable of the work. When the arms of the late vizier, assisted by his European auxiliaries, wrested the province of Rohilcund from that tribe of Afghans to which it owed its name, a party of the fugitives sought refuge in the mountains of Almora, and carried with them a young captive, an English officer named Percy. Zaarmilla, Rajah of Almora, received them with that hospitality which is the characteristic of a liberal mind and a feeling heart. This prince had already attained a degree of general knowledge which was very uncommon in Hindostan; and during a long confinement, in consequence of an accidental fracture, young Percy found leisure to instruct him in the English language, as well as in many particulars of our manners and political institutions. The pure precepts of the gospel, which, he did not doubt, were literally practised, impressed him with the highest ideas of our morals; and a letter to Percy from his sister inspired him with an equal respect for the talents and sensibility of the fair; when the death of his guest deprived him of this intellectual entertainment. It was then that he conceived the design of visiting England: but the dissuasion of his friend Maandaara, corroborated by the narrative of Sheermaal, who had lately returned from this country, and who gave a representation of our manners which was very different from the ideal perfection figured by the Rajah, succeeded in deterring him from executing his design. The friendship between our hero and Maandaara is now farther cemented by the interchange of sisters: but the Rajah losing his wife soon afterward by a premature death, he quits a scene in which every object reminds him of his loss, intrusting the education of his son to the superintendence of his friend, to whom the letters are addressed. He visits Allahabad and Benares, and presents us with an account of his voyage down the Ganges, enlivened by occasional descriptions of the rich and romantic scenery; as well as by the portraits of his companions, the friends of Percy, who accompanied him to Calcutta. During his residence in that city, he discovers that the conduct of his new associates was not so uniformly modelled on the examples furnished by the sacred writings, as might be wished: yet he sees more to applaud than to condemn; and he determines to prosecute his design of visiting England. The novelty of many scenes and characters which occur in Calcutta, and the surprise which they afford to our traveller,—particularly, the astonishment excited by seeing our ladies so far forget the modesty of their sex, as even—to dance at a ball,—are amusing and well described.

The second volume commences with the Rajah's embarkation: but, for the portraits of his ship-mates, the incidents of the voyage, and the characters of those with whom he becomes acquainted in England, we must refer to the work itself. Suffice it to say that he too soon learned to appreciate the difference between the practice of Christians, and their professions.

Although this publication is well supported throughout, and affords much entertainment, and many just and pointed remarks respecting the present state of our own country, we must acknowledge our opinion that the portion of the work which is evidently most laboured is the least deserving of commendation; and that Miss H. is less happy in her descriptions of Hindoo manners, than in her delineations of scenes at home, where she is better acquainted. It might seem fastidious to object to the impossibility of a Hindoo partaking of our tables, since that is a difficulty inherent to the subject; but we perceive other incongruities, which a more perfect knowledge of that people would have taught her to avoid. A party at cards is mistaken by the Rajah for a poojah, or act of adoration: but cards are well known though not frequently used in Hindostan; and they are mentioned by Abul Fazil as one of the amusements at the court of Akbar. The names of the hero and his sister, (Zaarmilla and Zamarcanda,) are such as a Hindoo could not pronounce without difficulty. The letter Z is not to be found in the Shanscrit alphabet, nor in any of the dialects derived from that source; and in the pronunciation of those Persic words in which that letter occurs, it is converted by the Hindoos into J; as Jemindar for Zemindar. The Ganges we find in one passage styled the ‘king of rivers;’ though elsewhere, indeed, the goddess is restored to her real sex. Angels and genii are both improperly mentioned in this work, being equally foreign from the Hindoo mythology. The term of Faquir cannot be applied, with propriety, to any but Mohammedan mendicants. A correct taste should have led this ingenious lady to reject the frequent recurrence of Persic or Moorish words, where both the sound and the sense would gain by a translation. ‘The sparkling chubdar of intellect,’ applied to the eye, is an expression too remote from common sense to be agreeable.

We feel no pleasure, however, in pointing out defects, particularly where there is much to approve; and we will now proceed to offer a specimen of the performance to our readers, which shall be the beginning of the fourteenth Letter. A paragraph inserted in a newspaper at Calcutta, after having mentioned the Rajah's name, and described his person, falsely and wickedly insinuated that he had come there on behalf of the Hindoo inhabitants of Bengal, to complain of the horrid cruelties and unexampled oppression, under which, through the maladministration of the British governor of India, the natives were made to groan.

LETTER XIV.

Since I last took up the reed of friendship, my heart has been fretted with vexation, and my soul chilled with astonishment. Will the friend of Zaarmilla believe it possible, that I should have found fraud and falsehood, venality and corruption, even in that court-protected vehicle of public information, that pure source of intelligence, called a newspaper.

The manner in which I made the disagreeable discovery, was, to me, no less extraordinary than the discovery itself. I went, as usual, yesterday morning, to spend an hour at the neighbouring coffee-house, and, on entering it, was surprised to find myself the object of universal attention. Every eye was turned towards me; some few seemed to regard me with a look of contempt; but the general expression was that of pity and compassion. I had advanced to a box, and called for a newspaper, but was hesitating whether I should retire, or stay to peruse its contents; when a gentleman, whom I observed to eye me with particular eagerness, approaching me with much formality, begged leave to enquire, whether I was indeed the Rajah of Almora, a native prince of Rohilcund? On being answered in the affirmative, the gentleman, again bowing to the ground, thus proceeded: “I hope your highness will not attribute it to any want of respect, that I have thus presumed to intrude myself into your presence. I entertain too much respect, for whatever is illustrious in birth, or honourable in rank, or dignified in title, or exalted in authority, to do any thing derogatory to its greatness. I am but too conscious of the prejudice which your highness must inevitably entertain against this nation, to hope that you will look on any individual belonging to it, without suspicion and abhorrence! But I hope to convince you, in spite of the reasons you have had to the contrary, that we are not a nation of monsters. Some virtue still remains among us, confined to me, and my honorable friend, it is true; but we, sir, are Englishmen. Englishmen, capable of blushing at the nefarious practices of delegated authority. Englishmen, who have not been completely embowelled of our natural entrails; our hearts, and galls, and spleens, and livers, have not been forcibly torn from our bodies, and their places supplied by shawls and lacks, and nabob-ships and Dewanees. We have real hearts of flesh and blood within our bosoms. Hearts which bleed at the recital of human misery, and feel for the woes of your unhappy country, with all the warmth of unsophisticated virtue.” Perceiving my intention to speak, “I know, sir, what you would say,” cried he, with vehemence: “you would tell me, that your hatred to the English race was founded in nature and justice. You would tell me, that it is we who have desolated your Empire, who have turned the fruitful and delicious garden of Rohilcund into a waste and howling wilderness. We, who have extirpated the noble race of warriors, who were your kind protectors! your indulgent lords! your beneficent friends!—to whom you paid a proud submission; a dignified obedience; a subordination more desirable than the tumultuous spirit of the most exalted freedom!” Again I attempted to speak.—“Ah!” cried he, in a still louder tone, “you need not describe to me, the ravages you have seen committed, the insults you have sustained! You need not tell me, that your friends have been slaughtered; your country plundered; your houses burned; your land laid waste; your Zenana dishonoured; and the favourite, the lovely, the virtuous wife of your affections, perhaps, torn from your agonizing bosom.” This was a chord not to be touched, even by the rude hand of a stranger, without exciting a visible emotion. “I see the subject is too much for you,” cried he, “it is too much fraught with horror to be viewed with indifference. Nature sickens at the recollection, but you need say no more; depend upon it, I shall make a proper representation of your case. Through me, your wrongs shall find a tongue. I will proclaim to the world, all that I have heard you utter. That mass of horrors, that system of iniquity, which your highness would describe, shall be laid open to the eye of day, and its wicked, nefarious, abominable, and detested author, exposed to the just indignation of the congregated universe.” At these words, again bowing to the ground, he turned round, and departed.

A number of mistakes occur in the orthography, which we imagine to be typographical; comparitive, frivilous, infallable, phenomona, prodominant, imposter, &c.

The original hymns addressed to the Hindoo deities by Sir William Jones are here termed translations: an error which we think it necessary to notice, because sublimity of invention, and an ingenious display of appropriate imagery, constitute a principal beauty of those poems.