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JOURNALS, AND JOURNAL-KEEPERS.

Ir may be said of the Journalist, as it has been said of the Poet, that "nascitur non fit"-he is born, he is not to be made. We do not mean by Journalists, writers in the Journals-i.e. members of the fourth estate. We speak of writers, or "keepers " of journals-people who write down, from day to day, in a manuscript volume, all that they see, all that they do, and very much of what they think. It may seem to be the easiest thing in the world to accomplish so commonplace a literary feat. But there is nothing, in truth, so difficult. We do not speak with reference to the question of quality. We do not say that it is difficult to keep a good journal; but that it is difficult to keep any journal at all. Hundreds try; and hundreds fail. They who succeed are but the rari nantes in the gurgite vasto of overwhelming failure. It is very easy to begin-but, in nineteen cases out of twenty, the beginning is also the end. How many "monuments of an unaccomplished purpose" may be found among the papers of literary men-journals begun, and carried on for a week or a fortnight-fragments of great works, unaccomplished promises-edifices, of which only the foundation is laid the superstructure, left to itself, for want of the literary capital of perseverance! An interesting chapter might be written on the subject. It would be no small thing, indeed, to enquire whether Society is the gainer or the loser by the difficulty of which we speak. It is certain that any man of good intelligence, jotting down from day to day all that he sees, all that he does, and much of what he thinks, can hardly fail to create in the end a mass of literary matter both instructive and amusing. But then on the other hand, much would be recorded which it would be better not to record, and many revelations would be made of matters before which it would be better that the veil should remain closely drawn. Perhaps, in the end, the balance of evil, between omission and commission, would be pretty equally struck. The ablest men are, for the most part, the busiest. They who see much, and do much, are those who have little time to record what they see and do. Hence it is that journals are commenced, and not finished--that the intention outruns the performance, and that men seeing and doing much, and profoundly impressed with the conviction, that a record of what they see and do would be both diverting and instructive-seldom get beyond the good intention. There is nothing, indeed, beyond the brave resolution but the useless regret. Thousands of men have lamented that they never kept a journal, and thousands will continue to utter the same vain lamentations. There is no help for it. Perseverance is a rare quality, and journal-keeping is very difficult. Lord Bacon has somewhere said, that a sea-voyage, by reason

of its weariness and monotony, is provocative of journal-keeping. In other words, that people are well-disposed to keep journals when there is nothing to enter in them. This, indeed, is a fact; and one in which the whole philosophy of the matter is contained. It is almost impossible to keep a journal when one has very much to enter in it. It is for this reason that women are better journalists than men. They have not so much to do. Whether they are by nature more stable and persevering we do not pretend to say. The few men who really keep journals are, as we have said, born journalists. We mean by this, that they have certain inherent qualities which enable them to triumph over the antagonistic circumstances of which we speak. Circumstances are against journal-keeping; but men, born journalkeepers, are greater than circumstances. Now women are often born journal-keepers, and circumstances are seldom against them. Wherefore it is that they more frequently shine in this department of literature than men.

We have been thinking of these things, as we hurried over the pages of Mrs. Colin Mackenzie's Indian Journal. Some important books on the subject of India and its government have been published during the present Session. There is not one of them which Mrs. Mackenzie's Journal* does not in some manner illustrate. The record of the every-day life of an intelligent English lady in the " Mission, the Camp, and the Zenana," must have a suggestiveness very valuable at a time when everything that relates to the condition of the natives of India, and to our connection with the country, has a peculiar claim to public attention. This Journal, as the name implies, is extremely varied. It relates to military affairs-to missionary matters-and to the domesticities of native Indian life. Although that which relates to the Camp and the Zenana may be more interesting to the general reader, we cannot help thinking that the portion of the work illustrative of the Mission is both the most important and the most novel. Mrs. Mackenzie is a Presbyterian, and a member of the Free Kirk. The information which she gives us respecting the educational and missionary proceedings of Dr. Duff and his colleagues is of the highest interest. When at Calcutta, she visited the Free Church institutions, and those subsidiary to it in the suburbs. Of a visit to one of these branch schools, she gives the following account.

"C. could not afford the time, but Dr. Duff offered to take me with his daughter to Baranagar, where an examination of the Branch School was to be held. On our way he showed us the new Mission House, and buildings for converts, now just on the point of occupation, and pointed out the old Institution, which was full of scholars, his former house, and the trees which he himself had planted. We also passed the Leper Asylum, where these unfortunate people have a maintenance on condition of not going out of the compound; and the Mahratta ditch, made to defend Calcutta from those dreaded invaders. We had a very pretty drive; Baranagar itself is a sequestered rural spot, like an illustration in Paul and Virginia.'

"Life in the Mission, the Camp, and the Zenana; or, Six Years in India." By Mrs. Colin Mackenzie. 3 vols. 1853.

"Mr. Smith, the missionary, lives in a very pretty one-storied native house, with a tank before it, and the school is a thatched bamboo Bangalow, close by. There are about two hundred pupils. Mahendra once taught there. They have at present an excellent half-caste Christian master, and a very clever Hindu teacher, brought up at the Assembly's Institution. Mrs. Hutton, the wife of the good English chaplain at Dumdum (who, on the Staples objecting to the English baptismal service, himself brought a Free Church Missionary to baptize their child, and was present at the holy ordinance), was the only other lady present; but Dr. Clark of Dumdum, Mr. Ewart, and Mr. McKail were there, and all examined the boys. They answered extremely well in mental arithmetic, geography, Roman and English history, geometry, and Scripture history, &c. The eldest class read and explained a long passage, taken at random, from Paradise Lost,' book second, describing Satan's flight. Dr. Duff asked what was meant by Satan putting on his wings. One answered, he put them into practice' (meaning use). This was the only mistake that I remember. On English history, Mr. Ewart asked about the civil wars, and then inquired which was best, war or peace ?-they all answered 'peace,' with great zeal. Mr. Ewart observed, there might be some just wars, adding, suppose an enemy were to burst into this country, plundering and destroying everything, would you not fight?' 'No, no,' said they. Mr. Ewart, who is a very fine powerful man, and gives one the idea of being full of manly determination and courage, was so astonished that he paused for a moment, and then said, 'but would you not fight for your homes-your own families?' No,' said they, 'the Bengalis would not fight-they are all cowards.' I am not quite sure if he asked whether they themselves would not fight, or if their countrymen would not do so, but the answer was as above; and Mr. Ewart remained dumb and amazed."

There is very much more, and of equal interest, relating to these institutions, but we wish to show the varied contents of these charming volumes. We can not, however, whilst on missionary subjects, refrain from quoting the following:

"Dr. Duff gave me a most interesting account of good Dr. Carey's death. He was with him a short time previously when he was in perfect health. The last sheet of his Bengáli Testament' was brought in. He burst out into thanksgiving, saying, with tears, he had prayed to be permitted to finish that work before he was summoned hence, and that he was now ready to depart. After this he began gradually to decline, and the next time Dr. Duff visited him with his loved colleague, Dr. Marshman, he was very near death, very feeble, and just gliding away from earth. Dr. Duff reminded him of the circumstance of their last interview, and added that he thought if any man could use the language of St. Paul, I have fought a good fight,' &c., it was Dr. Carey. The venerable man raised himself up in bed, and said, 'Oh no, I dare not use such very strong language as that, but I have a strong hope, strong hope,' repeating it three times with the greatest energy and fervour: he fell back exhausted, and when a little revived his friends took their leave. As they were going, he called, 'Brother Marshman.' On Dr. Marshman returning, he said, 'You will preach my funeral sermon, and let the text be, By grace ye are saved.' As Dr. Duff observed, the humility yet confidence of this aged saint were very beautiful."

After this, we have a translation of a letter which Akbar Khan, the famous Cabool sirdar, addressed to Captain Mackenzie-a letter full of expressions of kindness and friendship, complaining that the English officer had not written to him. On this Mrs. Mackenzie observes:

"As the last injunction he gave, on sending the hostages and captives to Bamián was to cut the throats of all who could not march; and as he knew full well that my husband was, from extreme illness, incapable of walking a hundred yards, you may judge how far this loving epistle accords with such a parting benediction. His intention in writing was to endeavour, through the medium of my husband, to establish a good understanding with the British Government."

This appears to us to be-unintentionally-unjust. The Cabul prisoners were told that Akbar Khan had sent the instructions referred to by Mrs. Mackenzie-but it was subsequently ascertained that no such instructions had been really sent. The chiefs, in whose custody these prisoners were, employed this ruse as a means of enhancing the price of their liberation.

From the chiefs of Caubul the transition is not very abrupt to the Ameers of Sindh. So much has been said lately about these fallen princes, that the following passage-part of an account of Mrs. Mackenzie's interview with the Ameers-will be read with no common interest :-

"I offered the necklace to Muhammad Khan for his intended bride, whom he expects to join him, the brooch to Shah Muhammad for his wife, and the earrings to the fat Yár Muhammad, as an encouragement to him to marry. The idea seemed to divert him extremely. The chief Amir held out his hand to his kinsmen, to examine their presents, and then made me a speech, saying that his gratidude was not transitory, but would last as long as his life, and quoted a Persian verse to this effect :-'I have made a covenant with my beloved friends, that our friendship shall last while the soul remains in the body,'-this was quite in the style of Canning's heroine-' A sudden thought strikes me, let us swear eternal friendship.' So here I am, the sworn friend of a Sind Amir. I had a strong inclination to laugh, but it would have been monstrous to have done so; so I expressed the gratification I really felt at their reception of a small mark of kindness.

ner.

"It would be difficult to give you an idea of their high-bred courteous manI asked them for their autographs, which they each gave me, and in return requested mine, which I wrote on three sheets of paper, and added one of those pretty little coloured wafers with our arms, the meaning of which Dr. C. expounded to them. They had had long conversations with my husband previously, and were pleased at hearing that he and Colonel Outram were friends. We showed them Akbar Khan's letter, which the chief Amir read in the melodious chaunting way used by the Arabs and Persians, stopping every now and then with his mouth and eyes beaming with humour, at some outrageously barefaced expression of affection from such a personage. I have seldom seen a finer or more expressive face,-when quiet, it has a strong tinge of melancholy, but lights up with feeling and wit, so as almost to tell you what he is saying before the interpreter can repeat it.”

Mrs. Mackenzie also visited the Rajah of Sattarah. We had marked for insertion an account of the visit, but, in spite of the manifold attractions of the book, we are compelled to limit our quotations.

What little space is left us must be occupied with brief, suggestive pickings from this attractive journal. Here in a few words is a fact, which has arrested the attention, and provoked the meditations of all thoughtful dwellers in the East.

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*Innumerable passages of Scripture derive fresh force in this country; for instance, in reading the first Psalm the other morning, He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of waters,' &c., on raising my eyes I beheld every tree in the garden planted by a watercourse, without which, in this burning clime, it would not bring forth its fruit in due season, but its leaf would wither; and I felt how forcible an emblem it was of the absolute necessity of never failing supplies of the water of life, for the spiritual life and fruitfulness of the plants of the Lord's vineyard."

There is a hint in the following passage worth noting.

"I have found that a Mullah, in controversy with Mr. Pfander of Agra alleges the custom of 'kissing and putting their arms round the waists of other

men's grown-up daughters, sisters, and wives, as an argument against Christianity. The kissing' appears to have been added by the imaginative Mullah, but I do not see how a waltz or polka could possibly be defended in the eyes of an oriental. I hope Mr. Pfander explained to him that Christianity does not (as he alleges) sanction these practices, for it teaches us to 'abstain from all appearance of evil.""

It is not strange that the Moollah associated, kissing and waltzing. The idea is by no means a novel one. Byron, we think, has told us of the grave Mahomedans, who asked,

"If nothing followed all this palming work."

Mrs. Mackenzie's husband, Captain Colin Mackenzie, who distinguished himself so greatly throughout the entire period of our troubles in Afghanistan, was appointed to raise and command a new corps for service in the Punjaub. The constituents of the regiment were various, and among them were many Afghans. Mrs. Mackenzie was much struck by the characteristics of these men. "I do like these Afghans," she says in one place, with a naïve earnestness which is very refreshing. She gives us one anecdote of their good-heartedness-of their simple, kindly courtesy-which we cannot forbear from quoting. Mrs. Mackenzie had received from England the painful tidings of the death of her father. Her English friends enquired after her, but never named the subject of her loss. Her native friends were less reserved, and, it appeared to her, more sympathising. Of this we have a touching illustration:

"That huge burly Naib Rassaldar, Atta Muhammad, came here a few days ago; and on hearing of the loss I had sustained, he begged C. to tell me how grieved he was, and then opening his hands like the leaves of a book, said, 'Let us have a fatiha, or prayer.' C. put his hands in the same position, and, with his face quite red with emotion, and his eyes full of tears, Atta Muhammad prayed that God would bless and comfort me, and that the blessing of Jesus the Messiah might come upon me. Then they both stroked their beards. The heartiness and earnestness with which it was done quite touched me.”

With this we must reluctantly conclude our extracts. We should be almost afraid, indeed, to follow Mrs. Mackenzie far into the "Camp," she is so bold in her revelations. She speaks of ugly matters which will create discussion, and we are not compelled to meddle with the "hot iron" ourselves.

Altogether the journal is very interesting. Since Maria Graham's famous Letters, nothing better upon the pregnant subject of India has emanated from a female pen, much indebted as we are to lady-writers for their illustrations of Indian life. They see things behind the Purdah, which men cannot see; and can go further, therefore, into the domesticities of Indian life. What Mrs. Mackenzie has written about the Zenana she has written pleasantly and well. Indeed, the contents of her book amply fulfil the promise of the title. It was written with no design. It is really a collection of journal-letters written to friends in England; but if the three suggestive words on her title-page had been set before her at the outset, she could not have written a better work about THE MISSION, THE CAMP, and THE ZENANA.