spear pointed at his bosom; two other Bedouins stood by, and his horse had disappeared. Not understanding the menacing injunction to lie still, he tried to rise, and was instantly pinned to the ground by the Arab's lance. Seeing that resistance was hopeless, he submitted to his fate, and the two Bedouins approached with the request, "Cousin, undress thyself, thy aunt is without a garment." This is the usual form in the desert, in whose slang the word "aunt" seems to figure in somewhat of the same capacity that "uncle" does in ours; but the "balls" are of lead, not brass.

As Mr. G. displayed considerable reluctance in assisting the wants of his unknown relative, the Bedouins stripped him with wonderful despatch. They soon left him a state of utter nudity, and in reply to all his remonstrances, only returned him his hat, which they looked upon with contempt, and as useless even to his unscrupulous "aunt." They even took away the hatband, and then left him to return as best he might to the crowded metropolis, clothed only in a narrow-brimmed beaver.

We regret that it is out of our power to follow Mr. Warburton through his visits to Damascus, the Lebanon, Baalbec, &c., till, retracing his steps, he finally embarks at Beyrout for Constantinople, or from that gorgeous capital to the "Isles of Greece," in one of which he at length takes leave of us. We part from him, however, with cordial good will, recommending, in honest sincerity, a careful perusal of his volumes, and especially of the "Hints to Travellers in the East," with which the work concludes, to all such "Wandering Boys" as fashion, or better motives, may attract to those magnificent and mystic piles, where Cheops lies as yet entombed, quietly awaiting his "unrolling," or those scenes of higher and holier interest amidst which Paradise was lost and regained.

Mr. Warburton, with great propriety, dedicates his work to his friend and kindred spirit, Mr. Monkton Milnes, apologising, somewhat unnecessarily for the title he has given it, and still more unnecessarily for using the old familiar mode of spelling, in "viziers, sultans," &c., with which modern orthography has so cruelly interfered of late to the confusion of our most cherished reminiscences; the "Arabian Nights" are "tabooed" to the euphuist, and if the venerated worthies who made them accessible to us in our boyhood, have been guided rather by the eye than the ear in the transcription, what matters it? A Cauzee has long been a Cadi by prescription, the mode of spelling his office is hallowed by associations, and we may well say of those who have so "written it down," malim cum illis errare, quam cum aliis recte sentire.

ADVENTURES OF AN OFFICER IN THE SERVICE OF RUNJIT
SINGH.*

THOSE narratives which, though dealing with true circumstances and states of things, are avowedly half fiction, often bring us nearer to the truth than those which profess to be nothing else. And such, if we mistake not, is eminently the case with the singular work which Major Lawrence has given to us under the title of "Adventures of an Officer in the service of Runjit Singh." We have within the last few years had several highly interesting narratives relating to the late ruler of Lahore; some of them (like the Hon. Mr. Osborne "Court and Camp of

* Adventures of an Officer in the Service of Runjit Singh. By Major Lawrence, British Resident at the court of Nepaul, &c. 2 vols.

TU

Runjit Singh"), devoted almost entirely to that extraordinary man; others (like Mr. G. Vigne's "Travels in Kashmere") treating of these incidentally, in connexion with other matters. All of these writers have minutely described Runjit Singh and his "court and camp" precisely as they saw and knew them; they have described faithfully and well, and have furnished us with admirable pictures of people and conditions of society that excite the strongest interest and curiosity, and are worth the most earnest attention. Yet we more than doubt whether any one of these bonâ fide accounts of what the respective writers saw and experienced during their visits to Lahore and their journeyings through the Punjaub, can compare in truth and reality with what we meet with of a similar kind in these avowedly fictitious" Adventures of an Officer in the service of Runjit Singh ;" and for this simple and sufficing reason-that in his personal intercourse with European travellers, as well as on every occasion of his allowing the machinery of his government to be examined by them, every thing was carefully prepared and got up for the occasion; every official was (at the peril of his head) bound to be at his post, and in the most point-de-vice order and condition; and even the Maharajah himself contrived to be "on his good behaviour"--always provided the visit did not last too long, for if it did the cloven foot was sure to peep out; whereas in the narrative of Major Lawrence-or rather of his imaginary hero-Colonel Bellasis-w -we have every thing and every body as they really were and are during the daily movements of their daily life-all, including the extraordinary head and ruler of all, not exactly en deshabille, but simply as they were when there was no immediate motive for playing a part; so that, together with all the "barbaric pomp and gold" which lend so brilliant and imposing a character to Eastern courts and camps and their denizens, we have all the cunning, aping wisdom, all the intrigue and cabal which render real merit an obstacle rather than an aid to its possessor, and that all-pervading corruption which either generates or includes every other vice to which humanity is heir.

66

We learn from the preface to this work a fact, which, while it confirms the impression received from the narrative itself, gives to it a tenfold value over that which would have attached to it in the absence of such assurance, namely, that every character in it bearing a real name is a portrait of the individual depicted, and that "many of the incidents in which they are made to figure are also real, though they may not have occurred exactly at the times and places assigned to them." It is added that 'many of the conversations with Runjit Singh's confidential adviser, Azizudin, also took place." Now coming as this does from a British officer who has filled an official political station at the court of Runjit Singh, as well as at the court of Nepaul-who has passed twenty years of his life in India-and who, conscious of the integrity of the pictures he presents to public notice, dares to put his name in the title-page of his work,-nothing can be stronger than the interest and curiosity those pictures must excite, and we shall need no excuse for presenting some of them to our readers. The following portrait of General Avitabili is drawn with a bold and discriminating pencil, and will be read with eager interest.

Of Avitabili the most lenient view that can be taken is, to consider him as set in authority over savage animals-not as a ruler over reasonable beings-as one appointed to grind down a race, who bear the yoke with about as good a grace as

66 'a wild bull in a net," and who, catching their ruler for one moment asleep, would soon cease to be governed. But the ground of complaint alleged against him is, that he "acts as a savage among savage men," instead of showing them that a Christian can never wield the iron sceptre without staining it by needless cruelty -without following some of the worst fashions of his worst neighbours. Under this rule, summary hangings have been added to the native catalogue of punishments, and not a bad one either, when properly used; but the ostentation of adding two or three to the string suspended from the gibbet, on special days and festivals, added to a very evident habitual carelessness of life, lead one to fear that small pains are taken to distinguish between innocence and guilt, and that many a man, ignorant of the alleged crime, pays with his life the price of blood. It is the general's system, when, as often happens, a sikh, or any other of his own men, appears at or near any village in the Peshawur territory, to fine that village, or to make it give up the murderer or murderers. The latter is the cheapest plan; a victim or victims are given up, and justice is satisfied. He might be as energetic and summary as he pleased, and no one would object to his dealing with a lawless people in such a way as to restrain their evil practices; but such scenes as frequently occur in the streets of Peshawur, equally revolting to humanity and decency, might be dispensed with.

dis

Still, General Avitabili has many of the attributes of a good ruler; he is bold, active, and intelligent, seeing every thing with his own eyes; up early and late. He has, at the expense of his own character for humanity, by the terror of his name, sared much life. It is but just to state, that the peaceful and well-disposed inhabitants of Peshawur, both Hindoo and Mahomedan, united in praise of his administration, though all with one voice declared that mercy seldom mingled in his decrees. Believed to fear neither man nor devil, Avitabili keeps down by grim fear what nothing else would keep down-the unruly spirits around him, who, if let slip, would riot in carnage; his severity may therefore be extenuated, as the least of two evils.

Avitabili's whole system of morals is oriental, avowedly eschewing force, when artifice can gain the point, and looking on subjects as made to be squeezed. In person he is tall and stout, with bushy beard, whiskers and moustache; marked with the small-pox, and with a countenance exhibiting at times the workings of human passion, but again lighted up into even a pleasing expression. With little education, but strong natural sense and ability, he has acquired a good knowledge of Persian, and of the Punjabi dialect. Strangely influencing those around him, and influenced by them, his history is a curious study, and, when his own generation has passed away, will hardly be believed.

Nothing can be more spirited and characteristic than the first introduction of the hero, Bellasis, to Runjit Singh.

The next day but one was fixed for my appearance at court; attired and attended as when I entered Lahor, I proceeded to the palace. Before arriving there, I met Runjit himself, returning from his morning's ride; and, much as I had heard of the insignificance of his first appearance, it startled me; the more so, perhaps, from the contrast it presented to the wiry and athletic forms that surrounded him. He rode gracefully, on a handsome, active horse, and was followed by his principal Sirdars, each with his silken chatha carried by a running footman, and the whole cortège, followed by an escort of five hundred well-mounted horsemen, and as many foot. They consisted of all tribes and castes, Sikhs, Pathāns, Hindus, Ghurkhās, &c., all gaily attired in scarlet and yellow silk, the cavalry, sitting in high-peaked saddles, and armed to the teeth with matchlock, pistol, blunderbuss, sword, and spear; the others more lightly, but still efficiently armed. Some few Akālis too were present, conspicuous by their high blue turbans, girdled with quoits; but more so by their wild maniac look, and insolent gestures. On seeing me approach, some of these hailed me with curses and abuse, but Azizūdin sent one of his orderlies to withdraw me.

As the train approached the entrance to the Shalimar gardens, the cavalry filed off, leaving the Maharajah, with his train, followed by the running footmen, to pass through a lane, formed by a regiment of his newly-raised infantry, who received him with presented arms. I was kept at the gate for some minutes after the Maharajah had entered; and while thus detained, many of the soldiers broke their ranks and crowded round me; some gazed respectfully at my train and accoutrements.

but more remarked, with a sneer, on my want of beard, and my half-European cos

tunie.

Some of the horsemen also drew up, and were more especially insolent; one of them, Nand Singh, second in command of one of the newly-raised cavalry corps (a scoundrel with whom I soon became better acquainted), was the most forward; he was a smart, active young man, with a bold and dissolute cast of countenance. He commenced caracolling his spirited little nag in circles closer and closer round me, half-muttering, half-chanting a ribald song. As he neared me, I warned him that my horse kicked; to this he deigned no answer, but, after a little, rode tilt by, grazing me, as if accidentally, with his steel-clad shoulder. I touched the rein of my good steed, gave him half a turn, pressed him with my sword-hand the veriest trifle on the loins, and, with one tremendous kick, he sent Nand Singh, horse and all, head over heels.

A dozen swords were instantly drawn, and as many matchlocks presented at me, but my four stout followers closed around; and, without affecting to believe my adversaries in earnest, I calmly expressed a hope that the fallen man was not hurt, regretting that he should not have taken my caution, and avoided my horse's heels. Whether owing to our firm aspect, or to the royal vicinity, I know not; but the bystanders held off, and treated us with vastly more civility during the few remaining minutes that I was kept waiting: and they looked with much curiosity when an orderly of the prince's came to tell me I was summoned to the durbar.

When ushered in, I found the monarch seated in a golden chair, surrounded by about a dozen of his ministers; several reporters were in the distance, catching every word, and noting it in the "court circular" for transmission to every corner of the empire. As I entered, the Maharajah half arose, and greeted me with much courtesy; my nazar of a hundred-and-one rupees was removed, and I was told to be seated on the fursh, or carpet, near his majesty. My own name and my father's, my place of birth, and my age, were asked and told; and it was explained that, though a wilayati, I was not an Englishman. I was then asked what I knew, what I could do, and what I wanted-all in a breath: and my reply was to the effect that I could do any thing, was ignorant of nothing, and, having heard the fame of the king, was come from a far country to offer my services.

"You speak Persian?"

"Yes, I have been some time in Persia."

"Can you build a fort? Can you cure a long-standing disease?

Can you

cast a gun? Can you shoe a horse? Can you mend my watch, which has stopped?"

All, through your highness's iqbal, is in the reach of mortal; and what other men have done, what should prevent Bellasis from doing?"

66

Shahbash, faqir, he is a bold jawan, this friend of yours!"

"He is, your highness, but try him, and you will find his merits exceed his words; the King of Rum, the Shah of Persia, the Amirs of Scinde, all asked him to join them as a brother; but he would devote his sword to none but the lion of the Punjab."

During this flourish in my behalf, two nearly naked wretches were dragged in, caught in the act of pilfering at the garden gate: they did not deny the charge; and the nose of one and ears of the other were sentenced to be cut off. In as short a time as I can write it the sentence was executed, and the culprits, bleeding as they were, were driven out.

66

Sharp work, Bellasis," observed the king, as I looked after the mutilated thieves: 61 we do not take life, but we punish."

My heart sickened, and I ventured to remark, that perhaps they were led on by hunger. A dozen voices stirred to hush me, and the faqir gave me an admonitory look. "Let him alone," said Runjit, "I like plain speaking, and he is but a nyajawan. You ride well, I hear, friend?"

"I have strode a horse from my youth, your highness."

Well, you faringis leap your horses. There is a fellow just entering who will show you the way over that fence."

I looked at the man pointed out, and recognised Nand Singh, who as an acknowledged favourite, had been allowed to force his way in, probably to ascertain whether mention had been made of the fracas at the door. I saluted him gravely, but politely; he returned the salam with a half-surly, half-defying air; and we were all forthwith, vazirs, scribes, omedwars, plaintiffs, defendants, and prisoners, bundled out to the garden.

The sikhs are indubitably bad horsemen, however common report may say to the contrary; their horses are so hard worked, so scantily fed, and so badly bred, that they have no spirit for the rider to quell: however, Nand Singh was by profession a chabuk sowār, and at Ladiana had followed the hounds in the train of some European he had there served.

Delighted at the opportunity of showing off against me, he urged his horse towards the fence pointed out by the Maharajah; but the animal, being tightly curbed and bitted, failed to clear it, insignificant as it was, and fell heavily with his rider. I took the signal, gently touched Chanda with my heel, and springing over the barricade, wheeled round, and, on my return, cleared both it and the body of my prostrate foe. In another instant, I was at the feet of the Maharajah.

"Shahbash, Bellasis, you shall teach my lancers. You are a colonel now in my service, and shall have a khilat on the spot. If you are but as bold in the field as in the garden, we shall soon be good friends."

The result of this interview is that Bellasis becomes a great favourite with the Maharajah, and, consequently, the object of all sorts of jealousies and intrigues on the part of the native officials, and the incidents of the narrative arise chiefly out of these intrigues, and their results on the movements of Bellasis and his friends and followers-among the former of whom is a beautiful young girl, the daughter of one of the hill chiefs who had been dispossessed by Runjit, and whom Bellasis afterwards marries. This latter incident, and the fatal catastrophe attending it, give rise to many highly characteristic scenes, which afford the reader a better, because a more life-like insight into the social condition of the country in question than any professedly true narratives with which we are acquainted.

But we must abstain from further detail regarding this original and novel production. We should, however, be doing it injustice not to state that it contains many important and well considered views on the political condition and prospects of the Punjaub, which, coming from such a quarter, must be read with strong interest, and deserve the deepest consideration; and that the historical portions of the work are more comprehensive, and, consequently, more available to the superficial and ordinary inquirer, than are to be found within the same space in any other produc

tion that has arisen out of our Indian rule.

HILLINGDON HALL.*

AMONG the few rarities that are to be met with in this age of nonnovelty, when all the world are trying to play at "follow-the-leader," and the leaders themselves are content to follow one another, the rarest of all is an original book: and here is one in the strictest sense of the phrase. The characteristic of the entire bulk of our modern literature is, that taking any individual case, any body having an equal amount of talent and knowledge with the actual author, could have written the book. But in the case of "Hillingdon Hall," nobody living could have written it except the author of "Handley Cross."

But a book may be original without being any thing else at any rate without having any other valuable quality; and, among the few original books that we have, not a few are of this description: nobody but the

Hillingdon Hall; or, the Cockney Squire. A Tale of Country Life. By the author of "Handley Cross," &c. 3 vols.