His manner is graceful, bland, and polite--it is, indeed, more than gentleman-like--it is courtly; and I have not seen it equalled even by the Mahomedan noblemen, with many of whom I have associated. Any of my readers who may have been in India, and become acquainted with its nobles and men of rank, will estimate at once how high is the meed of praise on this score which I give to Ameer Ali. His language is pure and fluent, perhaps a little affected from his knowledge of Persian, which, though slight, is sufficient to enable him to introduce words and expressions in that language, often when they are not needed; but still it is pure Oordoo; he prides himself upon it, and holds in supreme contempt those who speak the corrupt patois of the Dukhun, or the still worse one of Hindostan. Altogether Ameer Ali is a character, and a man of immense importance in his own opinion, and that of every one else; and the swagger which he has now adopted in his gait, but which is evidently foreign to him, does not sit amiss on his now reduced condition. Reader, if you can embody these descriptions, you have Ameer Ali before you; and while you gaze on the picture in your imagination, and look on the mild and expressive face you may have fancied, you, as I was, would be the last person to think that he was a professed murderer, and one who in the course of his life has committed upwards of seven hundred murders. I mean by this, that he has been actively and personally engaged in the destruction of that number of human beings. * * * * * Now, Ameer Ali, said I, since I have finished describing your appearance, I hope you are ready to contribute more to the stock of adventures you have already related. Your slave is ready, Sahib, he replied, and Inshalla Ta-alla! he will not disappoint you. But why has my lord described my poor appearance, which is now miserable enough? But might your slave ask what you have written?--and the tone of his voice implied that he had concluded it could not be favourable. Listen, said I, and I will read it to you. At every sentence the expression of his face brightened. When I had concluded, he said:--It is a faithful picture, such as I behold myself when I look in a glass. You have omitted nothing, even to the most trifling particulars; nay, I may even say my lord has flattered me.--And he arose and made a profound salam. No, said I, I have not flattered your external appearance, which is prepossessing; but of your heart I fear those who read will judge for themselves; and their opinions will not be such as you could wish, but such as you deserve. You think my heart bad then, Sahib? Certainly I do.