Summary

Portrait of James Payn James Payn Littell's Living Age — Volume 145…

To them alone—as modern India pays
Even to idiots—with horses, garden, hansom,
Clear two thousand every mensem.
In his intense indignation the poet really seems to take leave of sense and even sound, just as a very angry man is obliged to sputter instead of speak. It is quite a relief to come upon four consecutive lines—when he is thus moved—which are intelligible, or nearly so.
Oh, English, Scottish, Irish whites, that haunt
Our Indian soil and cling to it like leeches,
Remember, ere our humbleness you taunt,
That most of you when come had no whole breeches.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of James Payn James Payn Littell's Living Age — Volume 145…

Victor Hugo has been in England, I believe; yet what English writer, however inferior to him—nay, however crude and ignorant—could have portrayed the English so absurdly as he has done in "L’Homme qui Rit," for instance? Even in literary criticism, which to an alien is comparatively easy work, what mistakes have men like Guizot and Taine committed!
For a long time in India there have been efforts made by natives of position—chiefly Parsees—to become not only proficients in the English tongue, but to assimilate themselves to English habits and customs.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of James Payn James Payn Littell's Living Age — Volume 145…

How many look on woman’s death a boon!
(Here, it strikes one, there is need of a commentator. I think the poet means that if we really knew the fair sex as they are, we should wish them all in heaven.)
How many better do marry age—and wealth
And joys with others, husbands kept by stealth!
How many duchesses, countesses, misses,
Do pass in balls as veteran mistresses!
Here it is obvious that instead of "How many" the poet should have written "How few." But what a picture of society! Let us hope he does not draw it from his personal observations of Anglo-Indian life.
Source: Wikisource

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