beyond him was Heera Singh, who has learnt a little English, and has a good idea of making topics, and when C. came and established himself behind the sofa I got on very well with Runjeet. After the conversation had lasted nearly an hour, there was, I suppose, a little pause between G. and him, for he turned round and said something which C. translated in his literal way, 'The Maharajah wishes your lordship would talk a little more _friendship_ to him.' G. solemnly declared he had talked an immense deal of friendship, but, of course, he began again. Another of Runjeet's topics was his constant praise of drinking, and he said he understood that there were books which contained objections to drunkenness, and he thought it better that there should be no books at all, than that they should contain such foolish notions. He is a very drunken old profligate, neither more nor less. Still he has made himself a great king; he has conquered a great many powerful enemies; he is remarkably just in his government; he has disciplined a large army; he hardly ever takes away life, which is wonderful in a despot; and he is excessively beloved by his people. I certainly should not guess any part of this from looking at him. After two hours' palaver he got up to go. I gave him a large emerald ring, and G. gave him a magnificent diamond aigrette. It only arrived from Calcutta yesterday on speculation, and was thought too expensive, but G. had a great fancy to give it to Runjeet, it was so beautifully set. After the Sikhs were all gone, we went back to our private tents, where there was a _souper-dinatoire_ for seventy people: and that is our final festivity. Thursday, Dec. 6. All the gentlemen went at daybreak yesterday to Runjeet's review, and came back rather discomfited. He had nearly as many troops out as Sir G. R. had; they were quite as well disciplined, rather better dressed, repeated the same military movements and several others much more complicated, and, in short, nobody knows what to say about it, so they say nothing, except that they are sure the Sikhs would run away in a real fight. It is a sad blow to our vanities! you won't mention it to the troops in London--we say nothing about it to those here. This morning we marched again, only just five miles, so as to get into the Punjâb; and G., who had more last words to say to Sir G. R. and the army, did not come till the afternoon. Saturday, Dec. 8. Shere Singh, Runjeet's son, is our _mehmander_, and takes care of us through the Punjâb. Runjeet feeds the whole camp while we are in his country, men and beasts--the men 15,000 (we thought it was only 10,000; but when every regiment we had sent in its full muster-roll, it came to 15,000).