The Sun.
London, England, 1858-04-10 00:00:00

sufficient circulation of air to allow European lungs to
perform their vital functions. The whole clay is °can-
picci by hearing native OritnesBe3 for various cues, who
are all, you &flaw, striving to prevaricate, intrigue, and
tell untruths to the best of their power.
*

" My brother used to leave home about eleven (hav-
ing generally got through a number of audiences in his
private office), and remain bearing eanqe3 in Kutch, -
Y
till about seven, without the slightest interin:s-non for'
t:ffin or rest. Sometimes he would be much later, and
when I asked him what had detained him, the usual
reply was, "Oh, such a busy day, and even now I hare
left seventy witnesses unheard, who must go on in addi-
tion to to-morrow's woik." I am sure the whole time
we were in India, Keith did not accompany us six times
on our evening drive. After Kutchery, he bad always
to go down and visit his prisoners in gaol; at the close
of this day's work, was it any wonder he should be too
tired to read, almost too exhausted to eat his dinner, or
too languid to converse.

"Of course, in cold weather, all miseries are more
endurable ; but after some years of this kind of life you
meet with depressed and saddened men, with earnest
hollow eyes, who tell you they know they have given
the best energies and years of their lives to a land that
can repay them nothing, and that for all these long,
weary years of patient toil, they can never hope at home
for even a word of credit, much less fame ; the mot
enviable lot they can look forward to is respectable on-
vion. You may strive to answer these moody thoughts
with some old stereotyped consolation as `du'y is its
own reward,' but the common-place truism dies on
your lips, for the man does not complain, he only
states an undeniable fact ; and though, doubtless,
every man should do his duty without hope of re-
ward, still, who has not sometimes dreamed that the
sweet breath of Fame had touched his name and
made it glorious ! Aud then their appa:ently high
salaries are far more so in name than iu reality.
Nearly every civilian I saw was in debt—perhaps a
debt contrac'ed during his griffinage, and which, like
an incubus, follows him throughout his career ; be-
sides, a civilian has to keep up a better establishment
than a military man, and, as he gots on its the
service, lee pays proportionately more for every article
he requires. Many civilians' wives have told me,
when their husbands rose to higher positions, their
increased salaries were in reality no saving, for their
utmost efforts only showed them more fully how en-
tirely they were in the hands of their servante, who
always expect increased wages, and succeed in making
the Louse-bills increase in proportion ; and what cau
one helpless Englishwoman do, when opposed to a
whole brotherhood of natives 'My coachman left
me when my husband was made joint ruagi,trate,'
said one lady, 'because I refused to raise his wages ;
but he is a very good coachman, and I advise you to
t,ka him ; but as your brother is collector, of course
you must give him more.

On their return route the travellers visited D. lhi
and Agra. At the latter p!aco they, of course,
directed their !steps to the Taj Muhal, which they
describe in the following terms :
Who may attempt to describe the TAj I It is
utterly hopeless, and no picture, unfortunately, can
approach it either—ltalian refinement grafted on Ori-
ental imagination. It is certain that many Italians,
probably prisoners, were carried up here by the great
Shah Jehan, and either compelled, or bribed, to aid in
decorating this colossal gift to posterity. The exqui-
site inlaid work—of flowers in their natural colours—
which decorates the whole building inside and out, is
precisely like the Florentine work of to-day ; and the
marble ornaments now manufactured in Agra are very
similar in character to those of Italy. After all, it is
the grandest monument in the world of a love which
death could not subdue. Offerings of fresh flowers are
daily laid on the tomb of Murntitz, and I gathered
some fading rose-leaves from her last resting-place with
more reverence, and treasured with far more care, than
I did a flower from the tomb of Abelard and Heloise
at Pere la Chaise. We visited the Taj again at night,
and saw it under all aspects, brilliantly illuminated with
pink and blue lights, when it looked very like the clos-
ing scene of an extravaganza at home, and you felt dis-
appointed that the little fairies in silver tissue did not
appear; then the tall minarets at the sides were lighted
up with different coloured fires, and flsn; weird effect.;
of light over the building, till at last the natives had
exhausted all their devices, and the moon was allowed
unchecked to pour her glorious radiance over everything,
and made the Taj appear softer and larger, till it looked
like a vast pearl, whose glowing hues every inctaut
grew more lovely and transparent, its exquisite outline
every moment more unearthly and ethereal; the broad
river sleeping quietly by, with its banks doted by nu-
merous Musjids (temples), and fairylike pavilions close
at hand, where happy people who have time to spare
may live for weeks under the shadow of the Tdj, and
imbue their souls with the spirit of its beauty. Such
was not our favoured lot ? we were to return home to
dream intoxicating dreams, and wake next morning to
have our devotion to yesterday's idol shaken by a visit
to the Motee Musjtd (Temple of Pearl), a numberless
collection of arches, firmed entirely of white marble,
the effect of which it is impossible to describe ; and the
only picture I saw doing it a shadow of justice is one I
have by a Delhi artist, in which the intricacy of detail
has been followed with a faithful earnestness and a
laborious patience that would an Englishman sorely
to imitate.

After undergoing all sorts of miseries during their
overland route home, they brought their adven-
turous expedition to a successful cloie, barely in
tim-, for within a month after their return
the mutiny broke out. The author has pur-
posely avoided alluding to any of the recent
tragedies enacted in the spots they so cheerfuly
visited, wishing to give a picture of what India
once was, before the storm of desolatio❑ and mutiny
had swept over the land. The recollection of those
dreadful scenes are present with the reader, and
throw a mournful shadow over the lively pages ;
but ho cannot do otherwise that peruse with plea-
sure a record so unpretending and so animated.

The Netherwoods of Otterpool. 3 vols. Bentley.
This novel is evidently the production of a young
and unpractised writer. There is considerable in-
genuity in the plot, and the characters are diver-
sified, and occasionally well drawn. Its chief
defect is die great number of events and characters,
which are so crowded into its pages, and follow
each other in such rapid succession, that the reader
becomes almost confused by the profusion of inci-
dents and intricacy of motives. The earlier portion
of the work is more successful than the latter
volume. The chief point of the story is the rival
claims to the succession to a large estate, claims
not in law but in equiy. Philip Netherwood,
is the owner of the extensive property of
Otterpool. He is a widower, with a son and a
daughter. The son forms an attachment to the
daughter of a neighbouring baronet, between whom
and his father a feud existed. After various inop-
portune occurrences, Philip Netherwood disin-
herits his son, who immediately marries his be-
loved Lucy, and after some years of difficulty and
struggle, succeeds to his uncle's property and be-
comes independent. Meanwhile Philip Nether-
wood's intention of making his daughter his heiress
is frustrated by the determined opposition of her-
self and her husband, and is finally pr3vented by
their early deaths, his daughter not long surviving
her husband's fall at Waterloo. They leave one child,
a daughter, Annie, who becomes her grandf ither's
idol and intended heiress. She is very fond of her
uncle, whom she often meets at the house of her
father's sister, and is still more so of her cousin
Philip. She grows up a thoughtful and high-
principled girl, and is much distressed when she is
told of her uncle's exclusion from the family estate.
Her impressions are still further confirmed by a
letter from her dead mother, who charges her to
follow in her footsteps. Henceforth the great aim
of her life is to see Otterpool restored to her uncle ;
and after many endeavours and much persuasion,
her grandfather at last consents to receive Philip
into his favour, though he obstinately refuses to be
reconciled to Philip's father. Annie is obliged to
be contented with this for some time, and her
grandfather devises what he thinks an excellent
plan for setting all to rights—the marriage of
Philip and Annie, when thelatter is eighteen. Annie
would have preferred the restitution of her uncle, but
she is much attached to Philip, so agrees to the plan.
Philip, however, thoegh outwardly consenting, has
taken an unreasonable dislike to Annie through
her unintentionally supplanting his father. Affairs
proceed in this manner till a severe illness re-
duces Mr. Netherwood to the brink of the
grave. After a long period, he at length agrees to
see his son and forgive him, signing at the same
time a revocation of all his former wills. This
Frank Netherwood keeps secret, not wishing to
deprive his niece of her property. Me inwhile
Annie is miserable enough, being convinced that
Philip does not like her, and yet not daring to
draw back from her engagement, thinking that the
only way in which justice can be done. Her dis-
tress at length induces her uncle to brine forward
the testament that restores the estate to him.
Annie is delighted, and immediately dissolves her
engagement with her cousin, who, however,changes his mind as soon as he finds he is rejectaend,
Annie, however, is deaf to his persuasioLiz her
finally, that she may not be persuaded
better judgment, leaves her uncle
situation
and comes to London, where she obtains
and his
as governess. Meanwhile, lter's 11799a:secretly,
and commence a
family are distracted with anxiety
nYnie he
lrs of their
fruitless search. Whence-I:
eor leaves her situa-
, approach, she changes hoeurfora;:
considerable period.
tion, and so matters go
ppi:iyarranged, with the trifling
shot on the barricades of
At length all is ha
drawback of Philip bergvolutiou of 1830. However,
Paris during
"'and a merry wedding closes the
seen that part of the story is very
he finally f t rweicioltelliers,
worh•
impro-s•
ble• If the author had Contented herself
•
Ivith the development of the story as regarded
Frank and his father, or Philip and his bride, it
would have been better. The flight and pursuit of
Annie would have been better omitted, and a gra-
dual or eventual reconciliation with Philip substi-
tuted. The great crowd of minor characters should
also have been diminished, and the episode of Lady
Elizabeth is, to say the least, not very likely. Some