countrymen, he promptly resisted every
censure of mine. It was easy, indeed, to see that he secretly cherished
a hope that the day would come, when the whole of Hindostan would be
emancipated from its European masters, and assume that rank among nations
to which the genius of its inhabitants entitled it. He admitted that the
dominion of the English was less oppressive than that of their native
princes; but said, that there was this great difference between foreign
and domestic despotism,--that the former completely extinguished all
national pride, which is as much the cause as the effect of national
greatness.

I asked him whether he thought if his countrymen were to shake off the
yoke of the English, they could maintain their independence?

"Undoubtedly," said he. "Who would be able to conquer us?"

I suggested to him that they might tempt the ambition of Russia; and
cautiously inquired, whether the abstinence from animal food might not
render his country much less capable of resistance; and whether it might
not serve to explain why India had so often been the prey of foreign
conquest? Of this, however, he would hear nothing; but replied, with
more impatience than was usual with him--

"It is true, Hindostan was invaded by Alexander--but not conquered; and
that it has since submitted, in succession, to the Arabians, to the
Tartars, under Genghis Khan, and under Tamerlane; to the Persians, under
Nadir Shah, and, finally, to the British. But there are few countries
of Europe which have not been conquered as often. That nation from which
you are descended, and to which mine is now subject, furnishes no
exception, as it has been subjugated, in succession, by the Romans, the
Danes, the Saxons, the Normans. And, as to courage, we see no difference
between those Asiatics who eat animal food as you do, and those who
abstain from it as I do. I am told that the Scotch peasantry eat much
less animal food than the English, and the Irish far less than they; and
yet, that these rank among the best troops of the British. But surely a
nation ought not to be suspected of fearing death, whose very women show
a contempt of life which no other people have exhibited."

This led us to talk of that strange custom of his country, which impels
the widow to throw herself on the funeral pile of her husband, and to be
consumed with him. I told him that it had often been represented as
compulsory--or, in other words, that it was said that ever