religion, nevertheless, which every where else creates mortal enmities, does not here occasion any trouble. There exists between the sects serving under the same colours, a real but peaceable jealousy of each of them, which, in fact, forms the true security of the English power. If any conspiracy is plotted, one of these two parties immediately give the warning, and prevent its happening. The difference of their worship is also a greater guarantee; I had a proof of it during my stay in India. The Government of Madras thought it necessary, in 1809, to reduce certain pecuniary advantages. This reduction was disapproved of. The European officers whom it affected concerted together to get it revoked: the authorities persisted. They commenced an open insurrection, and refused all service. They tried a negociation through the European regiment at Madras; they would hear nothing, and declared that they would not take any part in the expedition which they were about to prepare at Masulipatam, against the Dutch possessions in the Moluccas. They then addressed themselves to the sepoys; but the officers having had intelligence from the Europeans, refused to obey, and placed the Government in an awkward situation. Happily, all their efforts failed against the fidelity of the soldiers, who constantly repelled their seductions, and gave notice of all their movements before they took place. The king's troops were in consequence sent for, and their presence impressed the mutineers with respect.

The Company's officers were in many instances arrested, and their places filled up by others taken from among the king's troops. All this took place without the sepoy ever failing in his duty to the Government which paid him. Some few acts of severity soon brought back these officers to good order. All was at length calm; and an insurrection, which at first threatened to overturn the Government, served, on the contrary, only to strengthen it a result due entirely to the care which it takes of its Native soldiers, and the wise policy which it imposes on itself, of not abandoning the families of their defenders, whenever they are called out of their territory.

Nothing can equal the beauty of the fortifications of the towns of India, and the cleanliness with which they are kept. Large, wellshaped, solid, and elegant, they embrace every thing which can facilitate their defence, and contribute to the well-being of the soldiers. Madras, above all, is a model of this kind. Protected by a succession of works, which follow one another, commanded by forts well garrisoned, they could withstand the most lively attacks, and defy the most numerous armies; the Black Town, situated on the border of the sea, half a league from it, serves also to place it out of the danger of insult. At the least signal, its immense population would be in movement, and render the situation of the enemy very perilous. Nature herself seems to have taken pleasure in multiplying the obstacles which defend it; she has rendered the shore

difficult of approach, and has prevented the European boats from having access to it. They are obliged to stop a quarter of a league at least from the beach; it is from this distance that the surf commences, which rises three times before it arrives at the beach, where it breaks with violence. If European boats attempted a disem barkation, they would be dashed to pieces. Their frames are not sufficiently flexible, they could not resist the shock; so that they do not employ anything but peculiarly built boats, weakly put together, which yield to the violence of the surf without being destroyed, These boats are large enough to carry from forty to forty-five persons; they are besides light, and skilfully managed by the Natives, who cry, sing, and row together, and are very careful in not presenting their sides to the surf which menaces them; they are always prepared with rafts, in case these boats should upset. The surf is frequently of a prodigious height; it commences, as I before said, about a quarter of a mile from the shore: to the first wave succeeds another, which pushes you impetuously towards the coast; then a third, and so on in succession, until the boat is thrown on the sand. Immediately a crowd of Natives who are waiting for it, seize hold of it and draw it to the shore.

The rafts are composed of two thick planks of six or eight feet in length, attached together. One or two Indians place themselves on this, and rapidly convey themselves where danger requires it. Many of these Indians wear round their necks a chain of silver, to which is attached a medal of the same metal, which has been awarded to them for having saved the lives of Europeans. They are perfectly naked, having only a small turban of palm-leaves, which serves them as a head-dress. It is in this turban that they place their despatches, and hide their papers, to prevent their being wetted, or meeting with any other injury. Mounted on their rafts, they are not afraid to leave the coast, and frequently gain the open sea. During the war, Government itself made use of them with success, to expedite to Colombo its orders to the troops which were sent there to suppress an insurrection.

Madras is peopled with Europeans, Armenians, and Portuguese. There are also seen here a great number of Pariahs, who meet, as throughout the rest of India, with all the contempt and ill-treatment with which their countrymen overwhelm them. The surrounding country is interspersed with charming fields, superb roads, planted on either side with trees. It is in this neighbourhood that the Nabob of Arcot resides. This prince possesses the appearance of power, but every thing ends there. He has given up his rights and his sovereignty, which have passed into the hands of the Company, from whom he receives, in return, an annual fixed sum. The honours of the salute are paid to him; they fire a volley of twentyone guns on occasions of visits, &c.

The buildings in India are generally of an elegant structure.

colonnade surrounds the country-houses,' and affords an agreeable walk during the heat of the day. Between the intervals of the columns are suspended tatties, or mats, made of a peculiar grass of India, which are kept constantly wetted; the air, passing through them, produces in the interior a delightful freshness. It is the great luxury of this country, where really such means are necessary to enable one to sustain the heat of so burning a climate.

The lime which the masons of India use in their buildings is of the finest quality; it is generally a mixture of lime and oystershells; it is mixed with a certain quantity of the sugar of the palmtree, jaggary, to form a kind of stucco, which has the polish and durability of marble. The Indians possess an extraordinary talent in making architectural ornaments of this material.

The bay, or road-stead of Madras, is filled with ships from the month of January to the middle of October, when the bad season commences. All the vessels then leave it; it is considered too much exposed, and maritime insurance ceases for those which remain after that time.

We learned, on our arrival, (in the beginning of April,) that the Government had become alarmed at the formal preparations which Tippoo Saib was making. They discovered that he was holding secret communication with the Isle of France; that many Frenchmen were even attached to his fortune, by entering into his service; and that it was the Governor who had furnished him with these reinforcements. The Governor-General considered his presence necessary at Madras; he went as far as Mysore, in order to be at hand to watch Tippoo's movements, and to take effectual measures to prevent the execution of his projects. Before leaving Calcutta, he ordered the Bengal army to be put in motion; and, on his arrival at Madras, the troops of that Presidency, and those of Bombay, received the same orders. The Governor-General, the Earl of Mornington, since the Marquis of Wellesley, thought it necessary, before he commenced hostilities, to demand an explanation of Tippoo. That Prince's reply was evasive; he still continued his preparations, and the Governor-General marched on with his troops. The army moved ▾ forward, fell upon Mysore, and took possession of it. The strong places on the frontier scarcely made any defence, and were taken almost as soon as they were attacked. They then advanced towards Seringapatam; they laid siege to this capital; the garrison was numerous and well-trained, and the resistance was obstinate. The 33d regiment, which was commanded by Colonel Wellesley, now the Duke of Wellington, attempted an attack by night; but it was repulsed with loss. Its chief, since become so celebrated, made a complete failure. A few days after, (the commencement of May, 1799,) Seringapatam was taken by assault.

This was a happy period for England. She now saw herself freed

from the most formidable enemy which she had ever had in India. The death of the Sultan terminated, at the same moment, his dynasty and the war. His sons fell into the hands of the conquerors; and a young descendant of the former King of Mysore, deposed by Hyder Ali, was replaced on the throne of his ancestors, and charged with the care of the people, while the English guarded all the strong forts. A singular fact, and one which proves on what slight things the success of war depends, is, that on the day of the capture of Seringapatam, the river which washes it being nearly dry in the morning, rose in the evening so high, that an elephant could scarcely pass it. The rainy season commenced, and, a day later, the English would have been obliged to raise the siege and retire.

A great deal is now said about the projects which Russia entertained towards India, and of the success she would obtain, were she to carry her arms there. On looking at the map, there may appear to be some chance for her, but in the country there is none. Surrounded on the north by steep mountains, Hindoostan presents to the army which shall have passed there, nothing but deserts, impassable defiles without roads, where no means of subsistence could be found, and where it would be necessary to transport the artillery by men. Surrounded with difficulties, they would be obliged to march from defile to defile, to force them, one after the other, and would find themselves exposed to perish, if they should fail in any one of their attacks ; add to this, that they would find opposed to them numerous and brave troops; abundantly provided, and who would have at their command all the resources of the fertile provinces which they would leave behind them. Every thing, then, would be in favour of the defence, and nothing in favour of the attack. To the east and to the west, they would meet with the same chances and with the same difficulties; every where devoted troops, deserts, and obstacles without number. If we examine, now, what maritime forces protect the coasts, and the weight which they would have in the scale, it will be clear, that every project of assault would be folly; they would not even have the resource which is so frequently made use of in war, that of insurrections and open revolts. How, in fact, could you excite the population? By the allurement of interest? They are already in possession; they have lost nothing; and in this respect they are as well off as they were formerly under Aurengzebe. Tranquil and happy, they are without regret, as they are without ambition. The son succeeds to the father, and every one lives contented with the condition which has been bequeathed to him by his parents. It is his destiny to remain there, and he follows it. The same customs, the same manners, the same resignation; nothing in the world would make him change either his religion or his habits. India will, therefore, always resist every effort to render it civilized and free.

248

THE CAPTIVE TO HIS HARP.

THOUGH my dreams of loved freedom are o'er,
Though Hope on my soul shall dawn never,
Yet thy tones are as soft as of yore,

And thy voice as unbroken as ever ;

To my desolate heart thou alone dost remain,
For thine accents of love are for ever the same.

Though the voice of thy comforter 's dead,

Yet to soothe my lone horrors thou seekest,— In the language of days that are fled,

'Mid my loneliness often thou speakest ;

And the strains which I loved when my visions were bright, In their melody pierce the deep shadows of night.

The invisible Spirit of Song

In thy whispering chords hath his dwelling;

Yet hushed is his voice, erst so strong,

When thy tones in soft murmurs are swelling,

To brighten the gloom of my lone house of woe :-
"Tis the sweetest of boons the lorn captive may know.

When, chafed unto madness, my blood
Hath rush'd in hot agony boiling

To my brain in a torturing flood,—

When my soul was in sickness recoiling

From the horrible doom of a sepulchred life,

And my bosom hath heav'd like the ocean in strife,—

Thy strains on my anguish have sunk,

Breathing peace,—and the turmoil was hush'd;

My ears have thy melody drunk

Till the fountains in mercy have gush'd

From their parch'd-up abodes,—with strange transport I wept, Then in passionless calm hath my worn spirit slept.

When from my loved home I was riven

When the blackness of night smote my day—

When the freshening breezes of heaven

On my brow were forbidden to play,—

Still they left me my harp, with its soft soothing breath,
That captivity's curse might not bruise me to death.

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