We had a large congregation yesterday, and an excellent sermon from Mr. Y., whose health, however, does not improve. I have made such a collection of drawings for the fancy sale—really very good. I am sorry to say it, for it may sound vain, perhaps is vain; but I persist in thinking them good drawings, and I cannot help thinking you would buy some of them.
Mrs. Chance, with her twins, came to visit Chance père to-day. He was very polite to his wife, but could not endure the young puppies. I am not surprised, for they are nearly quite black, with a little white, but no tan, and with vulgar, greasy, smooth hair. However, they are only ten days old, and babies, as you know, alter rapidly.
Thursday, Sept. 13.
We had such a nice expedition yesterday afternoon; just the sort of thing your children would have enjoyed (only you never let them come out with me now). It was to see two waterfalls, and in Simla, where water is bought at great expense, we make much of a few pailfulls that fall gratis over a rock. The valley is about 3,000 feet below our house, very Swiss, and quite different from the hills—such large cedars, and here and there a little Swiss-looking cottage, with one door and no window. I always wonder how ignorant of the ways of the world the inhabitants of these solitary valleys can be, and how such ignorance feels. No ‘crafty boys,’ no fashions, no politics, and, I suppose, a primitive religion that satisfies them. There are temples of great age in all these places. I imagine half these people must be a sort of vulgar Adams and Eves—not so refined, but nearly as innocent.
F. and I were carried down, and rode part of the way up, and when there, we clambered about some wonderful places, and I have not laughed so much for ages. There was a cave to go to, and a smooth rock to descend. G. and Captain J. got me safely to the bottom of the rock, and there we stopped to see Major U., Dr. D., and F. follow. They got half-way, clinging on, by a chain of the servants, to a tree at the top, and then they could get no further. The waterfall made such a noise, that we could not make them hear that there was nothing, in fact, to come for; and their hesitations, and scramblings back again, very nearly killed me. Luckily there was nobody left below to laugh at my return. The jonpaunees made steps of themselves, and I ran up a flight of jonpaunee-stairs very decorously. We are all so stiff to-day, not having walked so much for three years. ‘My bones, girl, my bones!’ (see ‘Romeo and Juliet.’) I wonder whether old Mrs. Davenport has died since we left England. What an actress she was!
Monday, Sept. 17.
There! I skip three entire days, for my whole soul is in England, and this letter must go to-day. This morning there came a knock at the door at seven, and Rosina brought me your July letters, with E.’s enclosed. I had scarcely digested those, when the Calcutta dâk came in, bringing to me your June despatch, which ought to have come with the other June letters exactly one fortnight ago—but never mind! How pleasant it is to have them both! The Coronation seems to have gone off wonderfully well, and must have been a beautiful sight. I suppose we shall have our English papers in two days: I am insatiable for more details. To be sure, if that little Queen’s head were quite turned, and she became the most affected and consequential of beings, it would not be surprising. A young creature of nineteen to be the occasion of such a splendid ceremony, and to have brought together all the great people from all the great nations to do her honour, is enough to intoxicate her. She must have great good sense to be so entirely guiltless of nonsense.
Letter to the Countess of B.
Simla, Sept. 8, 1838.
My dearest Sister,—There was no letter from you by the last overland (June). Odd! Can you account for it? Perhaps you did not write, which might be one reason (though a very insufficient one) why the letter did not come, but still it was a pity.