Of the practical effects of criminal punishments, the colonel does not speak more highly. "In the real Hindoostanee view of the subject, a convict in chains is nearly a native gentleman--a little roué, perhaps--employed on especial duties in the Company's service, for which he is well fed, and has little labour. A jail-bird can easily be distinguished after the first six months, by his superior bodily condition. On his head maybe seen either a kinkhâb (brocade) or embroidered cap, or one of English flowered muslin, enriched with a border of gold or silver lace. Gros de Naples is coming into fashion, but slowly.... Was he low-spirited, he could, for a trifling present, send to the bazar, and enjoy a nautah from the hour the judge went to sleep till daybreak next morning--nay, under proper management, he might be gratified by the society of his wife and family.... See him at work, the burkandauze (policeman) is smoking _his_ chillum, while he and his friends are sound asleep, _sub tegmine fagi_. All of a sudden there is an alarm--the judge is coming! up they all start, and work like devils for ten or fifteen seconds, and then again to repose. This is working in chains on the roads! In fact, after a man is once used to the comforts of an Indian prison, there's no keeping him out!" All this, no doubt, is broad caricature--but "ridentem dicere verum quid vetat?" a motto which the colonel could not do better than adopt for any future edition of his eccentric lucubrations. And so Rookhsut! Colonel Sahib! may your favourite tomata sauce never pall upon your palate; and though perhaps you would hardly thank us for the usual oriental good wish, that your shadow may continue to increase, may it at least never be diminished by that worst of all fiends, indigestion! * * * * * BELFRONT CASTLE. A RETROSPECTIVE REVIEW.