I saw Mr. Cherry the day before I started. He is an admirable person, perfectly sincere in his creed and in his life; but how singularly illogical! I believe he thanks heaven for the loss of my papers, feeling convinced that it came about in answer to prayers of his own, for my salvation and guidance. He warns me, too, on scriptural authority, against spirits that peep and mutter. And yet, because I think that the curtain which hides the invisible from our senses has been once lifted for me, he calls me a mystic. 'My dear sir,' I could not help saying to him one day, 'I do believe that at this present moment you are far more a mystic than I am.' Mr. Cherry's keen head and clear judgment, when matters of business are in question, have, however, been exceedingly valuable to me. He has advised me concerning my correspondence with the Lieutenant-Governor, mapped out my route in India, and given me the names and addresses of those known to him in the East as the chief friends and associates of my cousin, the rajah. --I have just been up on deck seeing the last of the English coast. We are off the Isle of Wight, where we stopped, for a few moments, to put off the Channel pilot. It is late in the afternoon, the atmosphere misty and irradiated with the hues of sunset, so that we seem to be floating in a rosy haze, through which the pale green shores of the land we are leaving gleam faintly. There is scarcely any wind, and the sea is as smooth as a lake in midsummer. --I have been fortunate enough to find a person on board who can help me in my Persian and Sanskrit studies. He is, or seems to be, a pure Indian, by name Chunder Singh, such a handsome fellow, tall, well put together, with a face whose fine cast and quiet dignified expression, impress one at once! This afternoon I saw him looking at me with interest, whereupon I spoke, and finding he understood English well, talked with him for some time. I have spoken about him to the Captain, who says he is needy, and will, no doubt, be glad to give me lessons. --Chunder Singh has met my advances with a gentleness and benignity that have charmed me inexpressibly. He was so princely in his manners that I felt half ashamed of offering him money for the help which he seemed so ready to give me; but when, with English awkwardness, I blurted out that, if he gave me lessons he should be adequately paid for them, he accepted my offer with a grace and dignity that caused me to blush over my own hesitation. This morning we met for the first time over my books with the crabbed characters to which I am extraordinarily glad to return. Chunder Singh, I am sure, will prove an admirable teacher.