amount, they oblige you to ensure your life, and in this ticklish country the rate of insurance is very high.
In the third place, which to us is the argumentum ad hominem, many and many are the lives that have been sacrificed, because poor miserable invalids have been unable from their debts to leave India. Interest—horrible interest—soon doubles the original sum, and a man is thus obliged to pay the debt three or four times over, and after that he may put by a fortune to support him in his native land.
Do not suppose I am painting; this is the plain fact, of which almost every month furnishes an example.
A man on first arrival (a griffin) cannot or will not comprehend that "one and one make eleven[1]."
Sept. 7th.—Since our arrival we have been annoyed with constant robbery in the house. Seventy rupees were stolen one day, and now they have carried off about eighteen silver covers that are used to put over tumblers and wine-glasses to keep out the flies; in consequence we have discharged our Ooriah bearers, who we suspect are the thieves, and have taken a set of up country men.
Oct. 1st.—We have had a singular visitor, Shahzadah Zahan-*geer Zaman Jamh o Deen Mahomud, Prince of Mysore, the son of Tippoo Sāhib, and one of the two hostages.
He resides in a house near us, and sent us word he would honour us with a visit. The next morning he called, and sat two hours. He had studied English for twelve months. Seeing a bird in a cage, he said, "Pretty bird that, little yellow bird, what you call?"—"A canary bird." "Yes, canary bird, pretty bird, make fine noise, they not grow here." In this style we conversed, and I thought my visitor would never depart. I was ignorant of the oriental saying, "Coming is voluntary, but departing depends upon permission[2];" his politesse made him remain awaiting my permission for his departure, whilst I was doubting if the visit would ever terminate. At last he arose, saying, "I take leave now, come gen soon." The next day he sent
