The circular temple above the well, to which there is a grating, contains either the gosāin’s money or zenāna, or both: he would not allow us to take a view of the interior. On the outside, at the foot of the temple, is a neglected and broken image, in stone, of Varaha, the avatār of Vishnoo with the head of a boar.
Whilst sketching the temple, we remarked its strong resemblance to the temple of the Sibyl, and were greatly surprised at its Ionic style of architecture.
On my return to England, a gentleman, seeing the sketch, said, “You must have painted from imagination, no such architecture is in the East.” This remark annoyed me. I defended the truth and faithfulness of my pencil, and determined, should fate ever carry me back to the ancient city of Prāg, to pay most particular attention to the architecture, and to re-sketch the temple. The mystery of its similarity to that of the Sibyl will be explained hereafter.
I must give a specimen of the natives. I asked the man who has the charge of the rabbits, why a remarkably handsome buck was missing, and a white doe was in its place?
The man vowed that “the day being extremely hot, the sun had turned the black buck white, and had altered the sex also!” I called a chaprāsī, desired him to pay the man’s wages, deducting the value of the buck, and turn him out of my service: his penitence and recantation were in vain. “I wish you would give me a beating, and let me remain in your service,” said the man. “You may have a beating if you wish it,” said I, “but unless it changes your sex, you shall not remain in my service.”
“THE DIVER WHO THINKS ON THE JAWS OF THE CROCODILE, WILL NEVER GATHER PRECIOUS PEARLS[45].”
This saying is very applicable to Europeans in India: the climate is worse than the jaws of the crocodile; and as for the pearls—when large appointments, in the hope of attaining which men have been slaving upon small allowances, fall vacant, the shears are applied, and a reduction of one-third or more follows. It is rumoured, but upon doubtful evidence, that the Governor-general and members of Council determined to sacrifice part of their allowances to contribute to the general exigencies of the state, but found they were restricted from receiving less by the Act of Parliament, by which their salaries are fixed. The Governor-general, in common parlance, is called “the clipper.”
It is to be hoped the Half Batta measure will be abandoned; if it is insisted upon, the experiment will be somewhat perilous. Let the Board of Control look at the numbers carried off by the climate, and they must acknowledge their pay is blood-money. The sipahīs are deserting from different stations, eight and nine a day, and some regiments are almost in a state of mutiny. The men desert to Runjeet Singh; and I understand the officers of many regiments will not dine at the Government-house, and only make their appearance when obliged by order. Heaven help those poor fellows who have wives and children to starve on half batta!
