CHAPTER X.
* * * * *
BOMBAY - (Continued).
* * * * *
Bombay the rising Presidency - Probability of its becoming the Seat of
Government - The Anglo-Indian Society of Bombay - Style of Living - The
Gardens inferior to those of Bengal - Interiors of the Houses more
embellished - Absence of Glass-windows an evil - The Bungalows - The
Encamping-ground - Facility and despatch of a change of
residence - Visit to a tent entertainment - Inconveniences attending a
residence in tents - Want of Hotels and Boarding-houses - Deficiency of
public Amusements in Bombay - Lectures and Conversaziones suggested,
as means of bringing the native community into more frequent
intercourse with Europeans - English spoken by the superior classes
of natives - Natives form a very large portion of the wealth and
intelligence of Bombay - Nothing approaching the idea of a City to be
seen - The climate more salubrious than that of Bengal - Wind blows hot
and cold at the same time - Convenience a stranger finds in so many
domestic servants speaking English - Their peculiar mode of speaking
it - Dress of servants - Their wages - The Cooks - Improved by Lord
Clare - Appointments of the tables - The Ramoosee Watchmen - Their
vociferations during the night - Fidelity of the natives - Controversy
concerning their disregard of truth.
Comparisons are so frequently both unfair and invidious, that I had
determined, upon my arrival at Bombay, to abstain from making them,
and to judge of it according to its own merits, without reference to
those of the rival presidency. It was impossible, however, to adhere
to this resolution, and being called upon continually to give an
opinion concerning its claims to superiority over Calcutta, I was
reluctantly compelled to consider it in a less favourable point of
view than I should have done had the City of Palaces been left out of
the question.
That Bombay is the rising presidency there can be no doubt, and there
seems to be every probability of its becoming the seat of the Supreme
Government; nothing short of a rail-road between the two presidencies
can avert this catastrophe; the number of days which elapse before
important news reaching Bombay can be known and acted upon by the
authorities of Calcutta rendering the measure almost imperative.
Bengal, too proudly triumphing in her greatness, has now to bear
the mortifications to which she delighted to subject Bombay, a
place contemptuously designated as "a fishing village," while its
inhabitants, in consequence of their isolated situation, were called
"the Benighted."
Steam-communication brought the news to Bombay of the accession of
Queen Victoria to the throne of England, and this event was celebrated
at the same time that the Bengallees were toasting the health of
William the Fourth at a dinner given in honour of his birth-day. "Who
are the Benighted now?" was the universal cry; and the story is told
with great glee to all new arrivals.
Concerning the Anglo-Indian society of Bombay, I do not pretend
to know any thing, or to give opinions which must necessarily be
premature and presumptuous. A round of dinner parties affords little
opportunity of making acquaintance; they are much the same everywhere,
and when a large company is assembled, their agreeability must
entirely depend upon the persons who occupy the neighbouring chairs.
Bombay is accused, with what degree of justice I cannot determine, of
being a place much addicted to scandal and gossip. If this charge be
well founded, it is one which it must share in common with all limited
circles. The love of detraction is unhappily a thoroughly English
vice, flourishing under all circumstances, and quite as prevalent,
though not, perhaps, equally hurtful, in great cities as in the
smallest village. The same people who in London delight in the perusal
of newspapers of the most libellous description, and who read with
avidity every publication which attacks private character, will, when
removed into a congenial sphere, pick their neighbours to pieces; an
amusement which cannot be enjoyed in the metropolis, where happily we
do not know the names of the parties who occupy the adjoining houses.
We are proud of our virtues, not unjustly giving ourselves credit for
many that elevate and refine the human character; but even the most
solid and the most dazzling can scarcely compensate for that one
universal sin, that want of charity, which leads English people
upon all occasions to undervalue and disparage their most intimate
acquaintance. How few will scruple to point out to others the follies
and foibles of their dearest friends, weaknesses which they have
discovered during long and familiar intercourse; and how few will
hesitate to impute the very worst motives for actions which may spring
from a laudable source, or be merely the result of thoughtlessness!
In our most Christian country, the spirit of the Christian religion is
still to be sought, and until we see stronger proofs of its influence
than can at present be shown throughout the United Kingdom, we must
not single out a remote colony as a specimen of the indulgence of a
vice common to us all.
The great evil, which Bombay must share with other communities
similarly constituted, is the want of family ties, and the consequent
loss of all the gentle affections which spring amid a wide domestic
circle. Neither the very old nor the very young are to be found in an
Indian colony; there are few connecting links to bind the sojourners
of a foreign land together; each has a separate interest, and the
result is seen in a general want of sympathy; no one seems to enter
into the views, feelings, hopes, or objects of another.
