“It is true, Hindostan was invaded by Alexander—­but not conquered; and that it has since submitted, in succession, to the Arabians, to the Tartars, under Genghis Khan, and under Tamerlane; to the Persians, under Nadir Shah, and, finally, to the British.  But there are few countries of Europe which have not been conquered as often.  That nation from which you are descended, and to which mine is now subject, furnishes no exception, as it has been subjugated, in succession, by the Romans, the Danes, the Saxons, the Normans.  And, as to courage, we see no difference between those Asiatics who eat animal food as you do, and those who abstain from it as I do.  I am told that the Scotch peasantry eat much less animal food than the English, and the Irish far less than they; and yet, that these rank among the best troops of the British.  But surely a nation ought not to be suspected of fearing death, whose very women show a contempt of life which no other people have exhibited.”

This led us to talk of that strange custom of his country, which impels the widow to throw herself on the funeral pile of her husband, and to be consumed with him.  I told him that it had often been represented as compulsory—­or, in other words, that it was said that every art and means were resorted to, for the purpose of working on the mind of the woman, by her relatives, aided by the priests, who would be naturally gratified by such signal triumphs of religion over the strongest feelings of nature.  He admitted that these engines were sometimes put in operation, and that they impelled to the sacrifice, some who were wavering; but insisted, that in a majority of instances the Suttee was voluntary.

“Women,” said he, “are brought up from their infancy, to regard our sex as their superiors, and to believe that their greatest merit consists in entire devotion to their husbands.  Under this feeling, and having, at the same time, their attention frequently turned to the chance of such a calamity, they are better prepared to meet it when it occurs.  How few of the officers in your western armies, ever hesitate to march, at the head of their men, on a forlorn hope? and how many even court the danger for the sake of the glory?  Nay, you tell me that, according to your code of honour, if one man insults another, he who gives the provocation, and he who receives it, rather than be disgraced in the eyes of their countrymen, will go out, and quietly shoot at each other with firearms, till one of them is killed or wounded; and this too, in many cases, when the injury has been merely nominal.  If you show such a contempt of death, in deference to a custom founded in mere caprice, can it be wondered that a woman should show it, in the first paroxysms of her grief for the loss of him to whom was devoted every thought, word, and action of her life, and who, next to her God, was the object of her idolatry?  My dear Atterley,” he continued, with emotion, “you little know the strength of woman’s love!”