ABSTRACT
Sir Charles Metcalfe was one of the loneliest men who ever went to India, and his natural introspection was deepened by the fact that he arrived desperately in love, his passion unreturned. The habit of Metcalfe's life was almost as studious as Elphinstone's, but his mind was not lit up by the imaginative brightness of genius or variegated by swift and eager delight in physical activity. In consequence, India abounded with Metcalfe's relations; his Journal shows that in almost every important settlement he could flush at least an aunt or godfather. The British Resident at Mahadji Sindhia's camp at Ujjain was Colonel John Collins, from his overbearing manner nicknamed 'King Collins'—a grotesque manikin who moved everywhere complete with zenana and batteries of artillery. Lord Wellesley was in sore trouble with the Directors, who resented his wars and expensiveness and his habitual contempt for them, and Metcalfe's father was one of his few supporters.
