CALCUTTA SOCIETY.

It seems to me, that the severest cynic could hardly do injustice to the general character of Society in Calcutta, however bitterly and contemptuously he might chuse to speak of it. I do not mean to say, that there are not many individuals, and even whole familes, who would be exceptions to the truth of his remarks, but these persons form a comparatively small proportion to the rest, and are not sufficiently important, with reference to their numbers, to give a character to the Community. I feel a little apprehensive, that in the observations, which I am about to hazard on this subject, some people may imagine certain personal applications are intended, and I therefore caution the reader beforehand, that if he makes the cap fit on either himself or his friend, it is more his fault than mine. I entirely disclaim all personal allusion.

I never enter into Society, in this City of Palaces, without reverting to that of England, the recollection of which is mingled with a thousand domestic associations and pleasant dreams. The contrast brings tears into my eyes, and makes me feel, that I am in a land of exile. Comparisons, however, according to the vulgar proverb, are always odious, and it is perhaps, not to be expected that we should form a very impartial opinion of a Society like that of India, while we come to the consideration of it, with a host of tender retrospections.

Old Indians, who revisit their far father Jand, are generally cruelly disappointed in their dreams of domestic felicity and often find the Society of London little more agreeable than that of Calcutta. There are many reasons to be assigned for this melancholy fact. When we return, after a long absence, to our native country, the old familiar faces are departed,-the unsuspicious fervor of youth that shed an etherial lustre around every object and filled us with love and admiration, has been chilled and dissipated by a rough contact with the world,-experience has sharpened our penetration, and increased our mistrust, and we feel ourselves solitary in the midst of crowds.

If therefore prejudiced as we must be in favor of our own country, we still judge harshly of it when we miss our personal associations and connections, how much more likely are we to take an uncharitable view of a society like that of India, distinguished as it is, by habits, tastes and feelings so different from those to which we have been accustomed in happier years, and unhallowed by a single pleasing recollection. But allowing this argument its full weight, and guarding my

self as much as possible against a hasty and partial judgment, I cannot help regarding the society of Calcutta with something like contempt and detestation. It is haughty, heartless, illiberal and malignant. The petty conventional distinctions, the hypocritical compliments, the cold formalities, the mean inquisitorial searchings into private histories, the eager scandal and invidious personal criticisms that characterize this community, deserve the castigation of a far more powerful pen than I can pretend to wield. We require an Indian Juvenal to lash its vices and its frivolities.

The greatest curse of Indian Society is, the utter absence of all domestic enjoyment, and, though this is to be attributed to the destruction of those nearest and dearest ties inseparable from the fate of such as leave their native country at an early age, and regard themselves as wanderers and adventurers, it is not the less lamentable, because we can reasonably account for it. In the same way it is easy to explain the causes of the prevalence of a miserable selfishness, and the rarity of genuine friendship. People feel that this is not their abiding place, and soon find that there are such continual and rapid changes in society, that in most cases acquaintances have not sufficient time to ripen into friends, even were they so disposed. Generally speaking, I think, persons who are much in society are little inclined to that concentration of feeling which, is necessary to friendship. By scattering their sympathies over a wider sphere, they become indifferent to individual attachments, and, this may be another reason, why so little warmth and cordiality are evinced in our social intercourse in Calcutta, where the circle of each man's acquaintance is of an extent that would, surprize even the fashionable denizen of St. James'. I will endeavour to explain also, the reason of the love of scandal and the haughtiness of demeanor, that I have already alluded to. BritishIndian Society is at once the best and worst educated in the world. That is to say, in no other community is a certain share of education so equally diffused, and no where else, are there so few instances of great learning or superior accomplishments. The education, however, so common amongst us is of a very ordinary kind, being confined entirely to what lads usually acquire before leaving School, a superficial knowledge of languages and a smattering of Geography and Arithmetic. Literature, in the liberal sense of the word, and the science of thought, are utterly unknown. As the Servants of the East India Company are therefore little better than overgrown boys deprived by the custom of society of the simple amusements of boyhood, and have more holiday leisure than they know how to employ, they would be the victims of ennui and discontent if

they were not allowed to busy themselves continually with each other's affairs. As they cannot always be whistling for want of thought, they are compelled to resort to a more stirring but less innocent recreation. In England the daily Newspapers afford sufficient topics of conversation to persons whose heads are utterly unconscious of a single original idea, but in this country the journals are as barren as the people. In the absence of public news to prevent a mental famine, the most secret places are unceremoniously searched for private scandal, and the food thus obtained is circulated with greater rapidity than the contents of the newspaper itself. An attempt to supply the place of scandal with reasonable or philosophical conversation would be not only nugatory but ludicrous. No man who did not wish to be hated for his superiority or laughed at as a very odd sort of fellow, would venture the introduction of any thing so abstruse and unfashionable as a thought. All this will sufficiently account for the love of scandal, which arises in fact from a positive necessity. The haughtiness we have spoken of may be accounted for in much the same manner. A person who is conscious of a mental superiority to the crowd about him, is as easy on the score of his personal dignity as a gentleman in a mob. He assumes no airs of any kind. The generality of Indians in their poverty of mental resources are obliged to rest their claims to respect entirely on extraneous advantages and therefore feel in their own persons the force of the old proverb of " familiarity breeds contempt." You must look up-not to them-but to their appointments. You must not consider the person but the situation, the pedestal and not the statue. If they were to stand on the same ground as others they would be no taller. These kind of people therefore are very scrupulous about their station in society and are apt to look with peculiar distrust at clever men who see through the folly of their pretensions. The feeling that they have really no personal superiority makes them hesitate to admit those in less elevated stations to a local equality with themselves. Push them from their platforms and they are nothing.

After these general remarks it will be as well perhaps to be a little more particular and I shall endeavour to offer a few illustrations. I must inform my readers that I am a married man and that my wife after an absence of two years in England on account of her health, has lately returned to India. During the time that she has been separated from me I have enjoyed much literary leisure and have mixed very little in society. For the last two months, however, my wife who is fond of gaiety has taken me to almost every party in Calcutta, and I have thus lost sixty mornings, that would otherwise have been devoted to pleasant studies, in paying or receiving visits. This has occasioned me

so much disgust and vexation that I have determined to gratify my spleen by the publication of my feelings and opinions, and I shall probably write a series of papers on Life in India. The reader may perhaps think that it would be better to exercise a little wholesome authority over my better half, and compel her to limit her engagements, than allow myself to be thus annoyed. But to confess the truth I know not how to refuse any indulgence to a woman whom I love, and I am the less peremptory in this particular because I feel that I can turn my experience, bitter as it is, to some advantage. There is no employment more gratifying to one who has been disgusted by vice and folly than that of holding them up to the scorn and hatred of mankind. Instead of giving a general account of my visiting and dining adventures during the last two months I shall take a single day, and detail its actual occurrences. The reader must understand that I am a Civilian and though a married man, a young one. Though not a Big Wig my situation entitles me to an admission into the best circles.

46

My Dear," said my wife to me at Breakfast yesterday morning in a coaxing tone, "we really must call at the Anton's, and the Westons too, will think we wish to cut them. Mr. Weston's bow on the Strand last night was more than usually formal, and you know we told Mrs. Anton, that she might expect us this morning." It was to no purpose that I talked to her for some time of the jaded horses, the heat of the weather and the comforts of quiet. She had soon the best of the argument and I reluctantly obeyed. We drove first to the Anton's. The husband though a little man in every sense, has a high appointment, and though laughed at for his stupidity and hated for his malice, is visited by every one who can obtain the honor of his acquaintance. His łady is coarse and vulgar in her manners and appearance but has a good deal of low cunning and natural wit. When we entered the Drawing Room Mr. Anton, favored us with a patronizing nod and his lady greeted us with an air at once condescending and familiar. We found several visitors male and female seated for mally round the table and the following conversation ensued. Mrs. Anton.-How very sultry it is to-day!

My Wife.-Very!

Mrs. Anton. I think this is one of the warmest days we have had this season.

My Wife.-Why I really think it is.

Mrs. Anton.-I hope you don't find this weather disagree with you.

My Wife.-O, not at all-I never was better in my life.

After this very interesting dialogue had passed there was a sudden and uncomfortable pause for some minutes; at length it

was broken by an abrupt enquiry addressed to my wife of whe ther she had heard of the very strange intended match between Major Eltale and Miss Sackville. (Several of the company now joined in the conversation with much eagerness. I have distinguished the visitors-according to their local arrangement, the one nearest Mrs. Anton, is called the first visitor, the one next her the second visitor, and so on.)

My Wife.-Yes-I heard of it at Mrs. Rattle's yesterday morning, but you know there is no trusting her information-is it really true?

Mrs. Anton.--Quite true! The Major I understand has already had four wives and perhaps would have had but one had he not shortened the life of his first by the most shameful tyranny. He is said to have beaten her in a brutal manner with the soles of his shoes. He served her three successors in the same way and sent them out of the world before their time, with broken hearts, and as is said with respect to the two last, with broken bones also.

My Wife.-Good heavens! you dont mean to affirm that like another Blue-beard he positively killed his wives.

First Visitor.-(A Lady.) Mrs. Anton is right. He did not suddenly dispatch them, nor in a way cognizable by the law, but morally and truly speaking he did destroy them; for the illnesses of which they died were occasioned by his atrocious cruelties.

My Wife.-Well this is the more surprising to me because I knew his last wife and she always spoke of him as the best of husbands and the most amiable of men. He had an occasional roughness of manner but not of heart-at least I thought so.

Third Visitor (a Lady.)-Well this is very strange! But I can positively inform you that whatever may have been his treatment of his last wife, her immediate predecessor was the most unhappy creature in the world. He used to beat her on the face and neck until she was quite an object, and then would confine her to her room until the disappearance of her bruises. Her Ayah is now in my service and she has told me this repeatedly.

First Visitor.-You see there can be no mistake-it is all perfectly true.

Second Visitor (a Gentleman.)-I cannot say of my own knowledge that these reports are true but I think they are more than probable, for a bully and a coward is always ungenerous to the women, and that the Major deserves the application of these epithets is clear from his conduct at-pore about 15 years ago. Mr. Anton.-Pray let us hear it all, for the more his character is made known the better. It may be the means of breaking off this unfortunate connection. I sincerely hope poor Miss