Bhagulpore.—­August 25th.—­On Saturday, we made an expedition to a place called Monghyr, about forty-five miles from here, where there is a hot spring, and something like hills. (I am told also, that on a particularly clear day I can see from here the highest mountain in the world.) We did not leave this till 3 P.M., and were back again by 8 P.M., having travelled some ninety miles by rail, and driven in carriages about ten or twelve more,—­the fastest thing, I should think, ever done in India.  There has been a good deal of rain, and I still feel well here, but I suppose on the 29th I must return to the Calcutta steam-bath.  This forenoon I paid a visit to a school, one of the Government schools.  The boys (upwards of 200) are not of the lowest class.  They all read English very well and when asked the meaning of words, gave synonymes or explanatory phrases with remarkable readiness.  During their early years, I should certainly say that they are quicker than English children.  They fall off when they get older.

August 31st.—­Calcutta.—­We returned to this place on Thursday.  It is cooler than when I left, but I fear we have not done with the heat yet.  All agree that September is about the worst month in the year here.

Calcutta.—­September 8th.—­I do not think that Dr. M. is particularly proud of the way in which I am bearing up against this oppressive and depressing season....  I wish that we were going to the Neilgherries instead of to Simla.  The climate is, I believe, better, and the place more agreeable, but it is entirely out of the way of business for me now, whereas Simla is a natural stage to the most important part of my government.

September 17th.—...  I have given up my morning walks.  It is now always sultry before sunrise, and the dullness of pacing up and down my garden at that hour is intolerable.  So I walk till daylight in my verandah....

September 23rd.—...  It seems strange to think that this is one of the last letters which you will receive from me in England, but yet it is still a long time before I can hope to see you here.  The poor boys!  You will be preparing to part from them, and all will be sad.  Give them my love and blessing.

[Sidenote:  Business revived.]

In the month of November the sittings of the Legislative Council, which had been suspended during the hot weather, were resumed, and the monotonous routine of the autumn was exchanged for more active, though hardly more laborious, work in maturing legislative measures.  As President of this Council Lord Elgin threw himself with his usual zeal and assiduity into the discussion of the various administrative questions which demanded solution.

As the cold weather came on, he suffered much from the transition.  Writing on the 4th of November to Sir C. Wood, he says:  ’At the commencement of the cool season, on which we are now entering, we suffer from all manner of minor ailments; so I hope you will excuse a short letter.’  And again on the 9th:  ’I am half blind and rather shaky from fever still, so that again I shall be brief in my epistle to you.’  Soon, however, these ailments disappeared, and in the cooler temperature he regained to a great extent his usual health.