it in his power to reward you for bringing so
good an estate to the Court, by granting an
immediate first-class certificate.

WANDERINGS IN INDIA.

THE house of a civilian (a magistrate and
collector) in the heart of a district, such as
Bijnore, is really worthy of contemplation.*
With the exception of a bungalow, which is
usually occupied by the assistant, and which
may, therefore, be said to belong to the
magistrate's house, there is no other Christian
abode within five-and-thirty or forty miles.
The house is usually well, but not
extravagantly, furnished; the walls are adorned
with prints and pictures, and the shelves
well-stored with books. In a word, if the
punkalees and the Venetian blinds, the
thermantidotes, and sundry other Indian peculiarities
were removed, you might fancy yourself
in some large country-house in England.
* See page 179.

There was at Bjinore a native moonshee
who was a very good scholar; and, as I was
anxious to read Hindostanee and Persian
with him (the more especially as I much
enjoyed the society of mine host and his assistant),
I was induced to accept an invitation to
remain for a month. During this period I
studied for several hours a-day, besides
attending the Court House regularly, to listen
to the proceedings, and acquire some
knowledge of a most extraordinary jargon,
composed of a little Hindostanee, a little Persian,
and a good deal of Arabic. This jargon is
known in India as the language of the courts.
A good Persian and Hindostanee scholar cannot
understand it, unless he is accustomed to
it. Many magistrates and judges have insisted
upon having pure Hindostanee spoken; but
to no purpose. Up to a recent period, Persian
mixed with Arabic was the language in
which legal proceedings were conducted,—
Persian and Arabic being as foreign languages
to the people of India as English, German, or
French. And, when the order went forth
that Hindostanee was to be used, the native
officers of the courts, and the native lawyers
who practised therein, complied with it by
putting a Hindostanee verb at the end of
each sentence, and using the Hindostanee
pronouns, retaining in all their integrity (or
rascality) the Persian and Arabic adverbs,
prepositions, nouns, adjectives, and
conjunctions. An indigo planter in Tahoot,
who spoke Hindostanee perfectly, having
lived amongst the natives for upwards of
twenty years, assured me that he did not
comprehend a single sentence of a decree
in court Hindostanee, that he heard read out
to him,—a decree in a case to which he was
a party. What is even more absurd, each
court has its own peculiar jargon, so that
the magistrate or judge, who from long
experience has acquired a thorough
knowledge of the jargon of his own court, has
very great difficulty in comprehending the
jargon of another court. This might be
altered by fining any officer of court, or
native lawyer, who, in matters connected
with a suit, used words and phrases unintelligible
to the mass of the people; but the
order would have to emanate from Government.
No magistrate or judge would
venture on even an attempt to bring about so
desirable a reform.

Whilst at Bijnore, I was seized with an
attack of tic-doloreux, and suffered all its
extreme agonies. One of my host's servants
informed me that there was a very clever
native doctor in the village, who could
immediately assuage any pain,—tooth-ache for
instance,—and he begged permission to bring
him to see me. I consented.

The native doctor was a tall, thin Mussulman,
with a lofty forehead, small black eyes,
long aquiline nose, and finely chiselled mouth
and chin. His hair, eyebrows, and long
beard were of a yellowish white, or cream
colour. Standing before me in his skull-cap,
he was about the most singular-looking person
I ever beheld. His age did not exceed
forty-four or forty-five years. He put several
questions to me, but I was in too great pain
to give him any replies. He begged of me to
sit down. I obeyed him, mechanically.
Seating himself in a chair immediately opposite
to me, he looked very intently into my
eyes. After a little while, his gaze became
disagreeable, and I endeavoured to turn my
head aside, but I was unable to do so. I
now felt that I was being mesmerised.
Observing, I suppose, an expression of anxiety,
if not of fear, on my features, he bade me
not be alarmed. I longed to order him to
cease; but, as the pain was becoming less
and less acute, and as I retained my
consciousuess intact, I suffered him to proceed.
To tell the truth, I doubt whether I could
have uttered a sound. At all events, I did
not make the attempt. Presently, that is to
say, after two or three minutes, the pain had
entirely left me, and I felt what is commonly
called, all in a glow. The native doctor now
removed his eyes from off mine, and inquired
if I were better. My reply, which I had no
difficulty in giving at once, was in the
affirmative; in short, that I was completely
cured. Observing that, he placed his hands
over his head, and pressed his skull, I asked
him if he were suffering.

"Yes, slightly," was his reply. "But, I
am so accustomed to it; it gives me but little
inconvenience."

I then begged of him to explain to me how
it was that he had the power to afford me
such miraculous relief. That, he said, he
was unable to do. He did not know. I
then talked to him of mesmerism and of the
wonderful performances of Doctor Esdaile in
the Calcutta hospital. He had lately heard
of mesmerism, he said; but, years before he
heard of it, he was in the habit of curing