Although it appears, that the general sickness prevailing throughout Bengal at the above season, is induced by nearly the same causes that, according to our best informations, engender the yellow fever in America, yet no symptom of that alarming complaint has ever been known in India, nor does the bilious, or putrid fever, of Bengal at all assimilate in regard to symptoms with the American fatality. Certainly it is common to see whole villages in a state of jaundice, and in some years the ravages of the disease are truly formidable; but, though it may be classed as epidemic, we may, at the same time, annex an endemic distinction in regard to each village separately. Except in cases of putrid accession, or of obvious typhus, there does not seem any danger of infection; and it has been proved, that the malady might, by proper care, be wholly averted. It is a fact, that, at several civil stations, and at some of the principal military cantonments, which were formerly considered the emporium of fever, the inhabitants have been preserved in an ordinary state of health merely by cutting a few drains, or by banking up such places as formerly proved inlets to inundate plains that now remain sufficiently free from water to allow of pasturage during the whole of the rainy season.

The confinement occasioned by a long term of rain, must necessarily alter the habit, while the incumbent atmosphere, being laden with moisture, must, at the same moment, dispose the system to the reception, or to the generation, of disease. The poor native does not change his diet, and very probably retains the same damp cloaths for many days. His temperate system of living seems to be his greatest aid in case of illness; those medicines that in him effect a great change being found comparatively feeble when administered either to one of a debauched conduct, or to Europeans; who, being accustomed to a more substantial and more stimulant mode of living, are not to be acted upon but by the more potent of the materia medica.

It has often been asked, as a matter of surprize, how it happens that Bengal has never been visited by the plague. The question has been founded on the supposed affinity between that country and Egypt, in regard to the annual inundations; and to the narrowness, as well as the filth, of the streets in the great cities; which would, if the conjecture were correct, induce pestilence, as the same causes are said to do in Turkey.

The case is widely different. In Egypt, although the lands are inundated, rain is scarcely ever known to fall; the floods coming from the southerly mountains. Hence, the inhabitants are under all the disadvantages attendant upon a hot atmosphere, during eight months in the year, and are, for the remaining four, exposed to the insalubrity arising from the inundation, especially when it is draining off.

In regard to the narrowness of the streets, and the filth they contain, something may be said in alleviation. The houses in Turkey are much higher, are built of more solid materials, and the inhabitants being wholly of one religion, viz. followers of Mahomed, but partaking of some of the bad habits of the neighbouring countries, being also in a more variable climate, more pointed attention is paid to durability and to closeness in the edifices, than is commonly shewn in India. In the latter country, the utmost jealousy subsists between the Mussulmans and the Hindus, but the latter are most numerous in every place, even in the cities where Mussulman princes hold their durbars, or courts. This jealousy occasions the Hindus to look upon every vestige of a Mussulman as a contamination; and, as ablutions are enjoined even more by the Hindu law than by the Koran, which is the Mussulman’s book of faith, we may consider the person of a Hindu to be as clean and wholesome as repeated washings can make it. He wears only a small lock of hair, growing from a spot about the size of a dollar on the crown of his head. His cloaths are washed as often as his body, and, on the whole, it should appear almost impossible for him to carry any disease arising from, or communicated through, a deficiency of individual cleanliness.

The houses of the natives throughout India, if we except about one-third of Benares, about a twentieth of Patna, the same of Moorshadabad, and a mere trifle of the Black Town of Calcutta, are built of mats, bamboos, and straw; in the latter, they have been, under late regulations, tiled. The generality of village-huts are built with mud walls. On the whole, however, whether owing to cracks in the walls, or intervals between them and the thatches, windows, &c., the air finds a free course throughout. Add to this, that the natives do not sleep on feather beds, flock, &c., but generally on mats made of reeds. This, of itself, may be considered a preventive against infection.

The fires kept up in the houses of the natives of Turkey are in fixed stoves, or under chimnies, which do not answer the purposes of fumigation. Whereas, the Indian, by means of a moveable stove, unintentionally fumigates the whole house; making the eyes of all smart with the smoke. This fuel is not bituminous; but, in every situation, is either wood, or the dried dung of cattle. Besides, the floor of a Hindu’s house is, perhaps daily, washed with a thick solution of cow-dung, whence a freshness is diffused, not perhaps very gratifying, in point of savour, to an European’s nostrils, but assuredly anti-septic, and answering various good purposes; especially as the walls are, to the height of, perhaps, three or four feet, smeared with the same mixture. The use of tobacco is common to both Turkey and India, and may be considered as contributary to a resistance against the damps during the rainy season, as well as against infection.

With regard to the apprehensions arising from filth, fortunately, they are not better founded than those just noticed as dependant on the narrowness of the streets. This lucky evasion of disease is not, however, to be attributed to any attention on the part of the natives individually, or to the fostering care of the native governments. Few towns of any importance but are built on the borders of some navigable river, of which there are abundance throughout the country. The swarms of vultures, kites, crows, and of a large kind of butcher bird, standing at least six feet high, called the argeelah, added to the immense numbers of pariah dogs, generally roving at liberty, and unacknowledged by any particular owner; together with the multitude of jackalls, that patrol through the cities, as well as the plains, during the night, all contribute to remove whatever carrion, or putrescent matter, may be exposed to their researches.

It would not, perhaps, be so easy to keep cities in a state of tolerable cleanliness in such a hot climate, if the inhabitants subsisted on butchers’ meat. The shambles alone would prove highly offensive: it is therefore fortunate that the natives make rice and vegetables their principal food. There being no privies attached to houses in general, is an additional benefit; though accompanied with some small inconvenience, it being requisite to walk to the outskirts of the city, or, eventually, among some ruins, on all occasions. The privies of the higher orders of natives, and of Europeans in general, are built on a plan which admits of instantly removing the filth; a practice never neglected by a servant, whose office consists only in that duty, and in sweeping the house at various times of the day.

The argeelah, or butcher bird, before mentioned, is to be seen partially all the year round; but, generally speaking, comes with the first showers in June, and stays until the cold season is far advanced; when it retires into the heavy covers on the borders of the large unfrequented lakes, near the mountains, to breed. This bird has been fully described in the representation of the Ganges breaking its Banks, in my work entitled the ‘Wild Sports of India,’ published by Mr. Orme, of New Bond-street, and by Messrs. Black, Parry, and Kingsbury, of Leadenhall-street. It is by some called the bone-eater, from its peculiarity of digestion; it having the power of swallowing whole joints, such as a leg of lamb, and of returning the bone after the meat has been digested: when thus rejected, it appears as clean as though it had been boiled for a whole day. I cannot give a better idea of the fitness of this bird to eat of the most putrid substances, than by stating, that I have frequently rubbed an ounce, or more, of emetic tartar into a piece of meat, which an argeelah has swallowed, without shewing symptoms of uneasiness on the occasion, though very closely watched for hours after. From this, it may be inferred, that ordinary stimulants do not disagree with the stomach of this unsightly, but innocent, and useful, animal.