"Well, sir—in the words of the Eton
Latin Grammar—I may reply:

Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas.

But where have you come from ?"

"From Seharry something or other; but
confound these nores, and pores, and bores!
There's no recollecting the name of any place,
for an hour together. The magistrate—I
forget his name just now; but it was Radley,
Bradley, Bagley, Ragley, or Cragley, or some
such name—told me he would push me
on to Meerut, and here am I, it seems,
forty miles out of my road! Well, look here.
I am Lord Jamleigh."

"Indeed! Well, you are welcome to some
refreshment and repose in my home, in
common with your friend; and whenever you
desire to be 'pushed on,' I will exert my
authority to the utmost to further your
views."

"O, thank you. My friend is my valet.
Here, Mexton, jump out and take my things
into a room."

While Mexton is obeying this order, and
while his lordship is following his host, let us
inform the reader who his lordship was,
and what was the object of his mission to
India.

His lordship was a young nobleman, who
was about to enter Parliament, and, being
desirous of acquiring information concerning
India in order to be very strong when the
question for renewing the charter came
on in eighteen hundred and fifty-two or
'fifty-three, he resolved on travelling in
the country for a few months: the entire
period of his absence from home, including
the journey overland, not to exceed half a
year. After a passage of thirty-four days—
having already seen the Island of Ceylon, and
approved of it—his lordship landed at Madras,
was carried up to Government house where
he took a hasty tiffin, and was then carried
back to the beach, whence he re-embarked
on board the steamer, and was, three days
afterwards, landed at the Ghaut in Calcutta,
where he found a carriage ready to convey
him to the vice-regal dwelling. After two
days' stay, he was "pushed on," at his own
request, to the Upper Provinces: his destination
being Lahore. The newspapers got hold
of his name, and came out with something of
this kind: "Amongst the passengers by the
Bentinck is Lord Jamleigh, eldest son of the
Right Honourable the Earl of Dapperleigh.
His lordship leaves Calcutta this evening,
and will pass through the following stations."
Then came a list of these stations. At many
of these stations he was met—officiously met
by gentlemen in authority, who dragged—
literally dragged—him, in their anxiety to
have a lord for a guest, to their houses, and
kept him there as long as they could: taking
care to have the north-west journals informed
of where and with whom his lordship had
put up. He was not allowed to stay at a
dâk bungalow for an hour or two, and then
proceed, taking—in the strictest sense of the
phrase—his bird's-eye view of India, its
people, its institutions, and so forth. Some
of them threw obstacles in the way of his
getting bearers, so that he might remain with
them for four-and-twenty hours, and thus
thoroughly impregnate and air their houses
with an aristocratical atmosphere. Others
lugged him to their courts and collectorates,
albeit he had seen one of each at Burdwan
in Bengal, and consequently had seen the
working of the Indian judicial and revenue
departments, and knew all about them. This
sycophantic importunity of a few government
officials soured his lordship's temper,
which imparted to his manners a rudeness
which was perhaps foreign to his nature.
His lordship was led to believe that all Indian
officials were a parcel of sycophants—
progress-impeding sycophants—and hence he
grew to treat them all alike: and he did not
scruple, at last, to extract his information
from them much in the same way that a
petulant judge who has lost all patience with
a rambling witness, takes him out of the
hands of counsel, and brings him sharply to
the point. For instance, "I know all about
that, but tell me this,"—note-book in hand—
would Lord Jamleigh in suchwise frequently
interrogate his civil hosts, who insisted on
doing themselves the honour of entertaining
his lordship. The fact was that, in his own
opinion, he knew all about India and its
affairs long before he touched the soil, for he
had read a good deal in blue books and
newspapers. His object, as we have before hinted,
was simply to see the country and travel in
it, or through it, and thus arm himself with
a tremendous and telling weapon in a
contested debate, should he take part therein.
And therefore when his lordship asked
questions it was not so much with a view to
obtain information as to test the accuracy of
that already acquired by reading, over the
fireside in the library, of his father's mansion
in Bagdad Square. Thus, the entries in his
lordship's note-book were, after all, merely a
matter of form.

Having divested himself of the dust with
which he was covered, and having restored
himself to his personal comforts, his lordship
joined our little party, and partook of some
dinner which the khansamah had prepared
for him. His repast concluded, his lordship
moistened his throat with a glass of cool claret,
and proceeded, in his own manner, to interrogate
his host, who was not only an accomplished
scholar, but a ready and refined wit. It was
thus that the dialogue was commenced and
continued:

"What is the number of inhabitants in
this district?" asked the noble guest.

"Upon my word I don't know, I have
never counted them."

"But have you no idea? Can't you give
a guess?"